Dead of Summer

by Sherry Knowlton

  “I heard that you arrested some guy while I was in Africa . . . that you thought he was the one who killed Cecily.” When he sat up at the sound of her voice, Alexa stroked Scout’s fur.

  “Detained for questioning. We had some evidence to suggest he had threatened Cecily. We also wanted to explore any connection he might have to the disappearances of women in the Carlisle area. Another one went missing last month.”

  “But you let him go?”

  “Yes. As the newspaper reported, Clyde Kahn is a registered sex offender, and someone who bears watching. But we couldn’t establish a firm connection to either Cecily’s death or the case involving the other women. In fact, we still aren’t sure if the missing women are the victims of foul play or just five women who all moved or disappeared on their own.”

  “That’s unlikely, isn’t it? Just like those young girls all running away is a pretty big coincidence.”

  “Young girls?”

  “Meg Wilson. Aurora Washington. I don’t know the other girl’s name. They’re teenagers from the Carlisle area. I was assisting Meg Wilson’s foster parents with her adoption before she disappeared.”

  “I know Troop H gets reports of missing children from all the local jurisdictions. I’ll have to look into this.”

  “The Carlisle police have investigated Meg Wilson’s disappearance. At this point, I think they’ve exhausted any leads and think she’s probably a runaway. Talk to Detective Hiram Miller.” Alexa continued to pump the trooper for information. “At one point, you mentioned that two Thai criminals could be suspects in killing Cecily. Were they cleared?”

  “Not exactly. We’ve confirmed that their organization has a beef with RESIST—although it’s not clear that RESIST does enough damage to their trafficking networks to precipitate an assassination of Ms. Townes. But both men have left the country, so it’s not possible to question them. Even though the U.S. has an extradition treaty with Thailand, we’d have to build a solid case first. And we just don’t have any evidence that they stepped foot in Pennsylvania, let alone killed Cecily. That’s still just a theory.”

  “What a mess.”

  John’s voice became resolute. “It can take a long time to investigate and build enough evidence to make an arrest. But we’re not going to give up.”

  The trooper sat forward in his chair, an earnest expression on his boyish face. Scout wandered over and placed his chin on the trooper’s knee, happy when John reached forward to scratch his ears.

  “Do you want another Coke?”

  “No thanks. You’ve answered my questions, and I should leave. But,” the trooper started, hesitantly. “I wondered about your trip to Africa.”

  “It was wonderful. Everybody should go on safari at least once in their lives. I haven’t organized my pictures yet, but I’ll show them to you when I finish. I got some great lions and a sweet shot of a leopard in a tree.”

  John dropped his voice so Alexa had to strain to hear the question. “And, Reese?”

  “I did spend a few days with Reese. It was wonderful to see him.”

  “Is he coming back to the States soon?”

  “Maybe someday, but I think he’s in Africa for the long haul. He loves Kenya and is totally excited about the big cat project he’s working on.”

  “So . . . you two are over?”

  Alexa gave the trooper an arch look. “Is this going into your report?”

  John blushed and stammered as he responded. “You know why I’m asking. It’s strictly personal.”

  Alexa stopped playing games. “Yes. Reese and I are over.”

  John rose from his chair and crossed the deck to where Alexa sat at the table. He grasped her shoulders and gently drew Alexa to her feet. She was surprised at the ease with which the lean policeman lifted her from her seat.

  “So will you go out with me when this case is finished?” His brown eyes gazed down at Alexa with compelling force. “You know I can’t date you now. You’re a key witness.”

  “I’m not going to make a binding commitment. It could be months—or years—before you close this case.”

  “Spoken like a lawyer.” John took a step back. “Never a straight answer.”

  Alexa rested her hand on his chest. “But, hypothetically speaking, I can state that I have no objection to going out to dinner or the movies some night.”

  John peeled Alexa’s hand from his chest and moved closer. “Hypothetically speaking, if I was free to date you, this is what I might suggest after that dinner or movie.”

  He lowered his lips to Alexa’s mouth and kissed her with passionate intensity. After a moment’s hesitation, Alexa found herself rising to her tiptoes to meet John’s kiss with fervor. As if that first kiss had ignited a fuse, their passion exploded in crescendo of deeper, more satisfying kisses. Alexa melded her body into John’s, and he drew her closer still with the insistent pressure of his encircling arms. Finally, she broke away, breathless with surprise at the excitement coursing through her body.

  John’s eyes darkened with desire; arousal transformed his boyish features into those of a confident, sexy man. Alexa couldn’t believe she’d failed to notice how obviously hot this guy was.

  “Hypothetically, this kiss never happened,” John whispered in a voice still rough at the edges.

  “Hypothetically, this kiss will keep me awake tonight. It will remain between the two of us, but I sure as hell can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “Good.” John gave Alexa a crooked smile. “So, it’s a date? Time and place to be determined.”

  “It’s a date,” Alexa confirmed as the trooper picked up his jacket and, boyish again, bounded down the stairs toward his car.

  When the gray car melted into the gathering dusk, Alexa sat on the deck still reeling from what had just happened. She closed her eyes for a moment and touched her lips. They still burned from John’s kisses.

  “Scout, what is it with me and men? Reese and I finally bring closure to our relationship, and two weeks later, I’m jumping into another man’s arms—a state cop, no less. And where does Quinn Hutton fit into this picture?” She thought about that last restrained kiss with Quinn, just before she left for Africa. It hadn’t rung any bells or curled her toes.

  Before Tanzania and Kenya, that detached, arm’s-length type of companionship held a measure of appeal. But the sizzling kiss with John tonight obliterated the charm of a merely companionable relationship. Alexa moved Quinn Hutton firmly into the just friends category.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  August 16, 1969

  If it feels good, do it.

  “I heard the concert is going to start early.” Robbie raced headlong into camp.

  “Coffee?” At Robbie’s nod, Phil poured a cup from the pot on the Coleman stove.

  “Who told you that?” Sukie looked up from her little box of cold cereal. “I thought it was scheduled for four this afternoon.”

  “Some guy. He had on one of those shirts with the guitar and dove—a concert guy. It’s got something to do with the weather. Now, the first band is going to play at one o’clock.”

  Sukie looked at the Timex on her wrist. “That’s only two hours away. If we’re going to be there at the start, we need to make sandwiches and stuff.”

  “We’ve got to stay for the whole concert today, rain or shine. Janis Joplin and the Airplane are both scheduled.” Ben leapt to his feet and strummed an air guitar. In a high-pitched falsetto, he sang an off-key chorus from “Piece of My Heart.”

  Phil and Nina groaned. “Look, we’re going to see the real thing today. Don’t ruin Janis for me, please,” Phil pleaded.

  “I was just joking around. I love Janis.” Ben stopped screeching his imitation of the rock legend.

  Robbie’s voice became dreamy. “I love Grace Slick. That woman is pure perfection.”

  Sukie swallowed a laugh when she saw the glare Cheryl aimed at her boyfriend. She knew from his immediate about-face that Robbie must have caught the look.
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  “I mean rock and roll perfection, of course. Not like I would want to date her or anything.”

  The entire group howled at Robbie’s lame attempt to dig out of the hole he’d created with Cheryl.

  Sukie took pity on the guy. “So where are the peyote twins this morning? Still in the sack?”

  “Nope. I looked in their tent when I got up, and they weren’t there.” Phil twisted the corner of his mouth in a half-grin. “Maybe they’re off trying to locate that shaman dude from New Mexico.”

  “What band is this?” Sukie leapt to her feet next to Nina and began to weave to the sultry rhythm.

  “Santana, I think he said. Never heard of them before.”

  “This music is so cool. Like Latin music and rock all blended into one.” Sukie leaned her head back and gave herself up to the music.

  When the final Santana song ended, Sukie collapsed next to Ben on their muddy blanket. He flashed her a smile then took a long hit on a joint.

  Coughing a little, he held out the roach. “Want a toke, babe?”

  “Not right now. I’m high on the music.”

  “Those guys are far out. I hope they have an album. I’m going to look for one at the record store when we get back home.”

  After a rambling speech, a folk singer named John Sebastian sang on stage. With the electric excitement of Santana still coursing through her veins, Sukie couldn’t quite warm to Sebastian.

  Bored, she took a drink from her canteen and reached into the cooler. “I’m tired of sandwiches—especially Lebanon bologna.”

  “At least we brought food. I heard they’re almost out of food up at the top of the hill. Soon, the Hog Farm is going to be feeding half of this crowd.” Nina accepted half of Sukie’s sandwich.

  Several hours and another rainstorm later, darkness had fallen and the crowds had thinned considerably. Robbie suggested the group move closer to the stage. “We’ve seen a ton of people leave. There’s got to be some space down front now.”

  With Phil and Ben dragging their muddy blanket and cooler, the group made their way through the crowd, inching closer and closer to the stage. Sukie followed, several steps behind, fighting a pounding headache. The level of moisture in the air dampened her clothes and plastered her braids against her neck.

  “Up there.” Robbie pointed to a space just in front of the stage.

  When they sat down, Sukie couldn’t believe the fantastic spot. “I feel like I could reach out and touch the Creedence Clearwater Revival. Far out.”

  When Phil passed around a bowl of hash, Sukie took several hits, hoping the high would erase her worsening headache. A short time later, floating, she tried to read her watch in the light streaming from the stage. “My God, it’s past one in the morning,” she mumbled. The rest of the group was grooving to “Proud Mary” and ignored her.

  In her excitement, Sukie almost forgot her aching head when Janis Joplin took the stage. She was so close Sukie could read the Southern Comfort label on the bottle Janis swigged from between songs. When Janis broke into “Summertime,” Sukie closed her eyes for a moment. “This must be a dream,” she muttered. But when she opened her eyes, Janis was gripping the microphone only a few yards away, giving every note of the classic song her bluesy, gravelly nuance.

  Several songs later, Janis sang Ben’s favorite, “A Piece of My Heart.” He reached out and hugged Sukie with a huge smile.

  A few more songs, and Janis was gone. During the long break before the next act, Sukie’s headache roared back in full force. “Hey, guys. I need to get back to camp for some aspirin. I really, really want to hear the Airplane, but I don’t think I can make it that long. My head is killing me.”

  Ben looked concerned. “I’ll take you back, babe.”

  Robbie spoke to Ben. “I’ll go with you. We can come back here after she’s in the tent.”

  “No. I can make it back on my own. The Airplane could come on after the next band. I can’t ask any of you to miss them for me.”

  Ben looked up the hill with a worried expression. “That’s a hell of a climb if you’re sick.”

  “I have an idea.” Robbie looked toward the stage.

  A few minutes later, supported by Ben and Robbie, Sukie approached a door in the wall below the stage. Robbie pounded on the door until it opened. Two guys wearing Woodstock t-shirts stood there.

  “What do you want? This space is off limits.”

  “We don’t know what to do. My girlfriend is sick.” Ben’s tone verged on panic. “I think she needs some air. Maybe she’s dehydrated or something.”

  “Did she drop acid?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Sukie got into the spirit of things and sagged toward the ground. Rob and Ben struggled to hold her upright.

  “OK,” the security guy said. “Give her to us. We’ll make sure she gets help.” He pushed the boys back out the door and into the crowd.

  The man with a long braid guided Sukie to a chair and brought her a glass of water. “Drink this. I’ll get someone to take you to the medical tent. Can you walk?”

  Sukie downed the whole glass of water before she nodded. “I can walk. I think it’s just a terrible migraine. I’ve got medicine in my tent. I’ll be OK.”

  “I get that you want to do your own thing, but are you sure?” The kind guard looked doubtful. “You seem pretty wasted.”

  Sukie wondered just how bad she must look. She hadn’t seen a real mirror in days. “I’m sure. Can you get me to the road? Thanks for your help. I just need aspirin and some sleep.”

  Sukie didn’t remember much of the walk back to the campsite. Although the water had helped settle her stomach, the pounding in her head had only increased. Sukie knew from experience that the intermittent flashes of light in the corner of one eye only boded more intense pain. Stoned from the hash, she felt like her body was drifting in slow, undulating waves of pain. She nearly tripped several times as she crossed the rough fields.

  Surprised when she stumbled into the circle of tents, Sukie sighed in relief. She massaged her temple as the aura from her migraine increased. Then she realized that the light was coming from JJ and Eskimo’s tent; it wasn’t flashes from the migraine. In a daze, she peered through their open tent flap.

  “Willow? What are you doing here?” Sukie stepped inside to talk to the young girl, who was lying on a sleeping bag, gossamer hair fanned around her head like a halo.

  Sukie stopped when she caught sight of JJ and Eskimo stretched out on either side of Willow. The thick haze of kerosene and weed created a sulfurous stench that made Sukie cough in the airless tent. “Oh . . . I didn’t see you.”

  A burning joint dangled from Eskimo’s mouth. “Where are Ben and the rest of the gang?” Eskimo asked as he passed the joint to JJ. The lantern cast Eskimo in an unsettling red glow as the preppie sat up. Since he hadn’t used his hands to push off the ground, it seemed like he’d levitated into a sitting position.

  For a moment, Sukie thought he had floated right off the ground. She lurched against the side of the tent.

  “Are you alone?” Eskimo raised his voice. In the dim red light, his eyes appeared eerie in their intensity.

  “What? Alone? Um, yes. They stayed to watch the Airplane. But I have a terrible migraine, so I came back on my own.”

  Sukie tried to focus on the conversation but could only think about getting to her own tent for an aspirin. She started to sway on her feet; the tent walls felt like they were closing in.

  Eskimo jumped up. “You don’t look so good. Hey, I’ve got something here that works great for migraines. My doctor says it’s the best thing to cure a headache. It will help you sleep.” He held out two large white pills.

  “JJ, toss me that canteen.” JJ threw a canteen, and Eskimo snagged in it midair. “Here. You swallow these pills with some water and get a good night’s sleep. You’ll be right as rain.”

  “This isn’t acid or mescaline, is it?” Sukie knew that both Eskimo and JJ were flying high on
some drug, not just grass.

  “Absolutely not. Just medicine for your migraine.” Eskimo assured her.

  The pounding in her temples made it hard to concentrate. Sukie swallowed one pill and took a long drink of water. She was so thirsty.

  “I’m going to bed now.” Sukie started to back out of the tent, but something made her hesitate. “ Is something wrong, Willow?” The girl’s eyes were glassy.

  JJ prodded the teenager, who shook her head left, then right, almost like a mechanical doll.

  Eskimo steered Sukie toward the door. Behind them, she heard Willow’s plaintive voice, “Do you want to hang out with us?”

  A wave of dizziness struck Sukie, and Eskimo steadied her. By the time they reached her tent, Sukie could barely stand. Eskimo unfastened the tent flap for her. Oblivious to the blast of stale heat that rushed out, Sukie sank to her knees and crawled like a baby toward her sleeping bag. As her eyes drooped closed, she still saw red shadows on the inside of her eyelids. Sukie tried to focus. But all she could muster was a vague sense of apprehension before she passed out, dead to the world.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “DETECTIVE MILLER ON THE phone for you,” Melinda announced when she buzzed Alexa.

  “Oh, good. I was going to call him today. Send the call through, please.”

  “Ms. Williams, I have some bad news for you about Meg Wilson. Her body was found today near one of the truck stops out at the Middlesex interchange.” The detective’s tone was grim as he got right to the point.

  “Meg is dead? What happened?” Alexa’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Middlesex Township Police have taken jurisdiction of the case now, but cause of death is unclear. There are no signs of trauma. The coroner suspects a possible drug overdose.”

  “Meg didn’t use drugs.”

  “Maybe she didn’t . . . maybe the parents just didn’t know about it.”

  Her parents. Alexa cringed to think about the painful impact that Meg’s death would have on Ed and Toni. What a tragedy. “Has the family been informed?”