Footprints in the Sand

by Mary Jane Clark

  “Watch out, you Ah-mo!” he yelled at Levi.

  Levi felt his face grow hot. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard the slur before. His dress, his hair, his differentness—they all caused some people to react in less than kind ways. But tonight he just couldn’t deal with what three days ago he would have taken in stride. He felt a tear roll down his cheek.

  He pedaled onward. When he got to the North Bridge, he stopped to watch the fishermen cast their lines over the side. He inspected their big plastic buckets, piled high with redfish and sheepshead.

  Finally he got to Ocean Boulevard. There were no streetlights, and the only illumination came from the headlights of passing cars and the lamps inside the houses and condominium complexes set back from the road. Levi came to a stop, got off the bike, and hid it in a hedge of sea grapes. He took the flashlight from his rear pocket and walked the rest of the way to the beach.

  As he listened to the rhythmic sound of the crashing waves hitting the shore again and again, he recalled all the times he had walked this beach. The happiness and excitement he’d found here. The summers spent keeping track of the turtle nests, watching in May, June, and July as the number of nests grew week by week. Waiting for them to hatch in August, September, and October. The year-round fun he had fishing with Uncle Isaac. The shells and sand dollars he’d collected with his sister.

  Miriam.

  If you tell anyone what you saw, I’ll kill your sister.

  The words reverberated in Levi’s head. He felt his throat tighten.

  He wanted to tell the police. Levi knew that was the right thing to do. But he couldn’t take the chance of putting Miriam in mortal danger.

  Levi reached the spot. His heart beat faster as he trained his flashlight on the sand. Three days of breezes and sea spray had erased all signs that a deep hole had been dug there.

  The last burial he’d been to had taken place three days after his aunt Rachel’s death. So many members of their Amish community had been involved. Some helped with preparing the body. Others built the plain wooden coffin. Some sat with the body while the grave was hand-dug as a sign of love and respect. Several hundred people had attended Aunt Rachel’s funeral.

  Shelley had missed that care and attention. Levi tried desperately to rationalize that at least Shelley’s grave had been hand-dug. Had that given her some small amount of dignity?

  He wished he could turn back the clock. He wished he had never gone out that night, that he hadn’t had those beers at the bar in Siesta Village, that he hadn’t gone for that walk on the beach to sober himself up. But the beach had always been his friend, the place he came to think things through and marvel at the wonder of nature.

  That night he’d been struggling with his decision about his future in the Amish world. Tonight Levi was struggling with something far more dangerous, far more sinister. He hoped that coming to the place where it had happened would help him decide what to do.

  Levi knelt beside the grave. As he prayed, his tears began to flow, building into racking sobs.

  Slowly he got to his feet. As he walked away, Levi reached into his pocket, pulled out his handkerchief, and mopped his face. He didn’t realize that his cell phone had slipped out as well and had fallen into the sand.

  If you tell anyone what you saw, I’ll kill your sister.

  The man who had killed Shelley Hart and stuffed her body into a sandy hole was clearly capable of carrying through on that threat.

  Chapter 11

  The evening’s festive atmosphere dissolved as the diners talked about the discovery of Shelley’s bloodstained car.

  “Shelley was sweet and generous and would do anything for you,” said Kathy, her voice trembling. “She was such a good friend to me.”

  “Honey, don’t talk in the past tense yet,” said Dan. “We don’t know what’s really happened.”

  “That’s right,” said Brad as he sat back in his chair and cracked his knuckles. “Under Shelley’s sweet exterior is a will of iron. Take it from somebody who knows—she’s a force to be reckoned with, and I’d never bet against her.”

  I feel like we should be doing something,” said Piper as she and her parents got into the car to return to the inn. “Maybe we should go down to the sheriff’s office.”

  Her father shook his head as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “Do you have anything to help the investigation?” he asked.

  “Not really,” answered Piper quietly.

  “Well, then you have to let them do their jobs,” said Vin.

  A few moments passed in an uncomfortable silence. Piper stared at the back of her father’s head, noting how white his hair had gotten. She wondered if it was genetic or due to all the worrying he did anticipating every possible disaster—and if she, too, was destined to go gray early.

  “I thought Walter seemed very nice, didn’t you?” asked Terri, changing the subject.

  “He was all right,” said Vin. “His handshake wasn’t the firmest—and neither was that wedding planner’s.”

  “Stop it, Vin. Don’t tell me that you’re going to judge Walter by his handshake,” said Terri. “Nora thinks he’s wonderful, and she’s always been a good judge of character. She told me that he’s so generous with local charities, always donating money or purchasing tables at fund-raisers. Nora is buying cocktail dresses for the first time since Frank died. If he makes her happy, I don’t care how weak his handshake is.”

  “Being generous to local charities is good business,” said Vin as they pulled out of the gravel driveway.

  “You are so cynical, Vin. Give the guy a break, will you?”

  “I’m not cynical,” protested Vin. “I’m just realistic. Some of these guys don’t give a rat’s ass about doing good. They only want the publicity and a chance to hobnob with others just like themselves.”

  “How did she meet Walter anyway?” asked Piper absentmindedly from the backseat. She was still thinking about Kathy’s missing friend. What if that old lady really saw what she claimed? Can there be some sort of connection?

  “Actually, she met him through Shelley,” said Terri. “Shelley knocked on her door one day, introduced herself as Walter’s representative, and asked if Nora would consider selling her town house,” said Terri. “Apparently Walter’s interested in buying all ten of the condos in the development, since the property adjoins his. He has big plans for the inn. Shelley would make the initial contact, and then Walter was the closer.”

  “So Nora’s going to sell to him?” asked Vin.

  “At first she thought absolutely not,” answered Terri. “But now I think she’s seriously considering it. Between the three of us, I think Nora is hoping that she and Walter will get married.”

  “And then she’d live with him somewhere else?” asked Piper.

  “Mm-hmm. Apparently he’s building a house for himself at the other end of the Whispering Sands property.”

  Vin steered the rental car into the inn’s parking lot. As they got out of the sedan, a clap of thunder resounded through the night air.

  Piper shivered involuntarily as she looked toward the dark vegetation that separated the inn from the condominiums.

  Did somebody really carry a woman’s body in there?

  Chapter 12

  After the dinner party, Isaac Goode drove off Siesta Key and headed toward downtown Sarasota. A few raindrops hit the windshield as he parked his car in the condominium’s parking lot.

  When Isaac entered his apartment, he carefully placed his keys on the small table just inside the front door, trying to make as little noise as possible. He didn’t want to wake up Elliott.

  Without turning o
n the lights, Isaac tiptoed across the living room, slid open the glass door, and stepped onto the balcony. He stared up into the dark sky, waiting to see the flickering of lightning bolts. So far there were none. Just the sound of rumbling in the distance. But weather systems moved fast in Florida. The forecaster on the radio had said that the storm would be traveling west, out into the Gulf. That meant it was coming their way.

  There was nothing Isaac liked more than a good storm. The demonstration of nature’s power excited him. It was the ultimate show, too vast for any human being to orchestrate. Isaac appreciated all the elements that had come together: hot air drawn into the atmosphere; fierce, gusting winds; storm clouds rolling and tumbling high above the earth; jagged lightning cutting through the sky; and the booming thunder that punctuated the display. Isaac was in awe of the Supreme Being who’d designed all that.

  The lights flipped on behind him, and he spun around.

  “Elliott! You scared me to death!” he exclaimed when he saw who it was.

  “I could say the same thing, Isaac. I heard the sliding door and thought we were being robbed.”

  “I’m sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

  “That’s okay. I really couldn’t sleep with all this thunder.”

  Where Isaac was dark and of average height, Elliott was fair and tall. They were both in their late thirties and had been together for almost five years. From the moment they’d met, they’d found it easy to talk to each other.

  “How was dinner, by the way?” Elliott asked.

  “Oh, it was fine, I guess. My niece was there,” Isaac said as he turned and took a few steps toward the railing. With his back to Elliott, he spoke into the darkness. “She’s still shunning me.”

  Wrapping his bathrobe closer to his chest, Elliott stepped up behind his partner. “I’m so sorry, Isaac. I know how hurtful that all is.”

  In spite of everything that had happened—or maybe because of it—Isaac still believed in God. Rejecting an Amish life and failing to be a walking billboard for religion didn’t mean he loved God any less. It was God who had seen him through. Until he’d met Elliott, there was nothing to rely on, no family to assist when times were hard and jobs got scarce. Isaac had known he would be shunned; he just didn’t realize how cruel and painful it would actually be. Tonight’s conversation with Miriam had been a prime example of that.

  “It would have been better if I’d just walked away after my rumspringa. But I didn’t have the courage.”

  “Isaac, it was way more complicated than you let on. You didn’t want to leave your family and friends. It was natural for you to fear leaving behind the only world you knew. And you had your parents to think of.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Isaac said.

  Twenty years ago, when he was Levi’s age, Isaac had gone ahead with the formal religious-instruction classes and eliminated all the trappings of rumspringa from his life. He’d stopped going to parties. He’d sold the used car, donated his video games to Goodwill, and gotten rid of the T-shirts he’d collected while he navigated and enjoyed the outside world. Despite his misgivings, he’d prepared to be baptized into the Amish faith.

  “Even as the bishop was placing his hands on my head, I knew I was making a mistake. I wanted to yell and run away. But what did I do? I kept silent.”

  “And you tried to make the best of it, Isaac.” Elliott hugged his partner. “You tried as hard as anyone could, but you had to leave in order to be yourself.”

  If Isaac had just rejected baptism, it would have been much better. Those who refused to become part of the church were allowed to go and create a new life of their own. But, once baptized, members were bound to the Amish faith for the rest of their lives. Breaking the vow he’d made meant that Isaac had to be shunned by the entire community.

  No one could eat with him. No one could accept gifts from him. No one could do business with him. His parents, sister, and four brothers hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left, nor had any of his old friends. They didn’t want to associate with someone who hadn’t followed the rules.

  “After all these years, the only one who’s dared to have a relationship with me is Levi. And he’s had to sneak around, meeting me on the beach to go fishing. It was so awful hearing his sister, Miriam, tell me that she plans on shunning me forever.”

  Staring down at the silhouettes of pleasure boats bobbing in the marina, Isaac said a silent prayer of thanks. He’d built a successful career through creativity and hard work. He had Elliott and friends, a nice place to live, and some money in the bank.

  “Let’s turn in,” Elliott coaxed.

  As they walked through the living room, Elliott looked over at the long expanse above the sofa. Sea turtles made up of tiny pieces of polished stone shimmered in the lamplight.

  “God, I love that mosaic.”

  Chapter 13

  Piper let herself into the room and immediately went to the window and opened it. She loved hearing the waves of the Gulf of Mexico relentlessly rushing in and out. Though the occasional pounding thunder interrupted, the steady roar of the surf was soothing.

  She unpacked the contents of her rolling duffel bag and hung her clothes in the closet. Then she undressed, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Climbing into bed, she took out her iPhone and listened to her messages. There was only one she wanted to return right away. It was Jack Lombardi’s.

  “Hey, Pipe. It’s me. Just thinking of you and wondering if you got down there all right. Give me a call when you can. Miss you already.”

  As she called the New York number, Piper realized she was smiling. Jack answered after the second ring. She could hear the enthusiasm and pleasure in his voice.

  “Hi, you! How’s it going down there?”

  “So far, so good,” said Piper. “We got here in one piece. The weather was beautiful today—sunny, although a little too cool for the beach. But a storm is starting now.”

  “And your parents?”

  “They’re my parents, Jack. You know how they are.”

  “Not really, Pipe. I only know what you’ve told me about them.”

  “Well, lucky you. That’s about to change, isn’t it?”

  “Can’t wait,” said Jack. “I’m gonna catch that flight on Friday.”

  “I’ll be at the airport to pick you up. I think you’re going to love it here, Jack. The hotel is beautiful. Kathy has booked you a room.”

  “Next to yours, I hope.”

  She smiled. “Having my parents right down the hall complicates things.”

  “I love a challenge,” answered Jack. “Remember, I’m professionally trained in undercover operations.”

  They chatted for few more minutes. Jack told her what he could about a case he was working on. It wasn’t much. He was careful not to reveal anything sensitive or confidential about his counterterrorism work at the FBI. Finally Piper told him about the dinner at her aunt’s place and her cousin’s missing friend.

  “Why are you just telling me this now?” asked Jack incredulously.

  “Because I didn’t want you going into Agent Mulder mode and start worrying about me,” said Piper.

  “You’re dating yourself with the X-Files thing, and I’m not worried,” said Jack. “I just find it really strange, of course, that when there’s trouble to be found, you’re all over it.”

  “I don’t find it,” Piper protested. “It finds me.”

  “Well, I’ll make a few calls and let you know if I have anything to report,” said Jack. “What’s the name?”

  “Hart. Shelley Hart.”

  When they ended their call, Piper checked her Facebook page. She posted the picture of the gorgeous sunset she’d taken earlier with the caption “Just another night in paradise.” Afterward she was surprised to find a friend request from Brad O’Hara. She had deliberately avoided him at the dinner party, but obvious
ly he hadn’t taken the hint.

  Sometimes people she didn’t really know tried to “friend her” on Facebook because they had mutual friends. Sometimes, people with no connection at all requested friendship; most were fans who had watched her on A Little Rain Must Fall. Piper not so secretly treasured those people. They were always posting comments about how good she was and how much they enjoyed her work. She had gotten into the habit of sharing a few of the details of her continuing quest to land some new gigs. She could actually feel the enthusiasm and affection that her fans had for her as they supported and consoled her. They believed in her even when she herself had doubts.

  Since posting the picture of the first wedding cake she’d made for A Little Rain Must Fall star Glenna Brooks’s marriage on Christmas Eve, and after some of the specifics about the part Piper had played in the capture of another Little Rain star’s murderer appeared in the press, Piper’s Facebook-friend base had grown even larger. She had started to share some of her mother’s recipes from The Icing on the Cupcake, the family bakery. That, too, had received a warm welcome, and recently Piper had created an Icing on the Cupcake fan page on Facebook. On both pages Piper took pains to point out that it was her mother who ran the bakery and that Piper was taking on wedding-cake assignments only between acting jobs.

  She had just returned from Los Angeles, where last month she’d completed her second wedding cake. The initial contract for a large cake had ended up being substantially downsized when the bride and groom decided they wanted a small and very private ceremony instead of the one they had previously planned. A big wedding seemed inappropriate when death had come to people surrounding the bride.

  While Piper was in the City of Angels, her agent, Gabe Leonard, had sent her on an audition for a dog-food commercial. Though she was sure she’d blown the callback audition, she had amazingly gotten the part. Getting that part had been a much-needed morale booster. If it ran often enough, the commercial would also be a welcome boost to her bank account. Her financial situation was embarrassing.