by Rena Leith
“Is that Ricardo’s boss?” Gillian asked.
Jack opened his door and Samantha turned around. This afternoon she was wearing a golden cowgirl outfit. On the top of her head sat a gold felt Stetson with a conch band in copper. Her pale yellow blouse flowed like silk. The suede skirt was dark gold, long, and fringed as was the vest. She even wore cowboy boots. Jack raised an eyebrow.
She smiled and walked toward the car. “Hello. I was about to go up on the hill. Want to come?”
Jack and Gillian shook their heads. “We’re headed for home in a little bit.”
Something inside me dropped when they said that, even though it had been my suggestion. But I was a big girl, and it was time I worked on building my new life by myself. I was grateful to them for staying so long. I’m not sure how I would have handled everything without them. Probably not well.
I didn’t think Samantha had really expected an affirmative answer, but her eyes saddened. I felt a kinship because I could identify with that lonely, bleak feeling that had invaded my life post-divorce and crept all the way down to my bones, paralyzing me at times.
“So okay. See you later.” Her voice as flat as a Kansas plain.
A few minutes later we saw her trudging up the hillside toward the picnic area at the top and the state park beyond.
“While we were working on Brendan’s plan, Ricardo told me a few things about her. Her family is dead. She’s an only child. A few years ago she met a wonderful man, and she finally thought she had what she wanted—another family. He was a widower with a young daughter. Samantha can’t have any children of her own. Anyway, last year he died slowly and painfully from cancer. He divided his money between Samantha and his daughter: a trust fund for college for his daughter and enough money to start a small business for Samantha. She opened Crystalline.”
Thor sauntered into the kitchen, stopped, and looked at me.
“Speak of the devil.” I looked down at the not-so-wee beastie.
Thor opened his mouth and uttered a cracked meow.
Jack scooped him up on one forearm, flipped him over, and stroked Thor’s belly until he got a good purr going.
I could tell he’d miss the beast, and I was glad Thor seemed to have forgiven him.
“Where’s the medication for Thor’s eyes?”
“It’s in the fridge. The directions said to keep it refrigerated, but you might want to warm it up a bit.” I chuckled. “He really jumped when I tried to put it in cold.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon stocking the shelves, stacking boxes, and cleaning up. Our efforts substantially reduced the clutter in the cottage.
I stepped back, hands on hips. “Job well done, guys. This is enormously helpful.”
“I need a beer. Want one?” Jack asked.
“I’ll take one.” Gillian washed her hands in the sink. “We can even make it home by suppertime.”
“Speaking of suppertime, I wonder why Samantha hasn’t returned?” I asked. “She usually doesn’t spend this much time photographing.”
“She probably just drove home without saying anything,” Jack said.
That hadn’t occurred to me. I went over to the door and looked out. “Nope. Her car is still sitting over by the road.”
Then we heard sirens and saw flashing red lights up on the ridge.
Ricardo ran toward us. Disheveled and out of breath, pale, and panting, he pulled to a stop at my steps. “It’s Samantha…”
“Is she all right?” I asked, alarmed. “I just saw that her car is still here.”
“No, she’s not. She’s… There’s blood everywhere. Is Mia here?”
“No, I haven’t seen her today. I thought we were getting together tomorrow to finish up Brendan’s web site. Why?”
“Hearing about Samantha made me worry about Mia. She’s not answering her cell.”
“Samantha. Is she…?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I think she’s dead.” He crossed himself and then bent over, head down, resting his hands on his knees, and caught his breath.
“The cops are questioning everyone in our group. They came to my mother’s house, yanked me away from dinner. My mother is really upset. I left with them before things got out of hand. A hiker said the ‘crystal lady’ was dead in the State park. Since I work for her, they took me along to…” He broke down. “Who would kill her?”
But I could think of a couple of people who might kill the woman who was filming all over town.
“Want a lift back home?”
Ricardo shook his head, not speaking, not looking up, and walked slowly to the gravel and the road beyond. I watched him go, my heart aching for him, then I closed the door and turned to Jack and Gillian.
“I feel so sorry for him. Ricardo is devastated.” The wooden chair scraped as I pulled it out and sat down, suddenly weak in the knees.
Jack and Gillian exchanged looks. Then Jack said, “You know, it’s getting late, and I’m really tired after putting up your shelves. If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend one more night.”
I smiled. “Jack, you are such a sweetie. I’d be very grateful.”
“Let’s order pizza now that Clem’s is delivering.”
Gillian started clearing the table. “Works for me. No anchovies.”
“Spoil sport. Let’s get two. I love leftovers. Meat lovers and veggie?”
“Go for it, Jack,” I said.
He called and then joined us at the trestle table. “We never did finish our little whodunit game.”
“True, but do you guys really feel up to it? I know you’re both tired.”
Gillian sighed. “Yes, but we’ll have pizza to replenish our flagging whatevers soon.”
“All righty,” I said. “Where were we?”
“We were going to consider that Brendan may have killed Alan for profit or jealousy. Now I think we have to consider that he might have murdered Samantha because he found out she’d been filming him,” Jack said.
“No, I don’t have to consider that. Not when he’s a paying customer.” But my head was spinning. “Besides, I’m still planning to go have dinner at his house and pump him for local information for Doris.”
“You certainly picked an interesting town to move to.” Gillian laughed.
It was a thought that had been running through my own head. Pleasanton was never like this.
“We need to find out exactly what happened to her…” Gillian sat staring at nothing.
“Gill?” he said gently.
“Who her?” I asked. “Samantha or Doris?”
“I was thinking that you seem to be a focal point, Cass.” Gillian started ticking things off on her fingers. “If Samantha was murdered, then two murders have taken place within yards of your house. Three if you count Doris.”
“You should always count Doris,” Doris said, joining us.
“Hey, Doris,” I said.
Gillian continued. “Now you know everyone involved and most of the suspects.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch. I didn’t know them before I moved here. I don’t think this has anything to do with me. If it did, this place wouldn’t be called Murder Beach.”
“But,” Jack added, “if the videos go online for all to see, it’s fairly obvious that many were taken on your beach or nearby.”
“Oh, great!” My mouth went dry.
“Cass, relax. Gillian’s not accusing you of anything, but are all those things true of your next door neighbor?”
“She may not be accusing me, but she’s scaring me, nonetheless.”
Gillian put her hand on mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, but Jack has a point. Is there anyone, such as your next door neighbor, for whom all these events would be as related as they are for you?”
“Dave? Sort of. I think. Maybe. Oh, I don’t know.” I couldn’t think.
Jack persisted. “Did he know Alan?”
“Yes.”
“Samantha?”
“No, I don’t think so. M
aybe. Lots of people who weren’t into that stuff went in there for scented candles, crystals, and aromatherapy oils. But I don’t think Dave has anything to hide that Samantha could reveal.”
“You don’t know him well enough to determine that.” Gillian added gently, “You said that Dave said he didn’t do Internet gaming.”
“If the murders are linked, this would seem to let Sara off the hook. No motive for Samantha’s murder,” Jack said, “unless she really hated Samantha’s crystals.”
“Let’s see if we can get up on the hill. I want to see for myself.”
“Where Samantha was killed?” Gillian asked. “Why?”
Jack shook his head. “That whole area will be sealed off. It’s a crime scene.”
“I know, but I’d like to see how close I can get. Maybe something will make sense up there. I’ve wondered if Alan was thrown off the cliff.”
“Cass, we don’t know if the two murders are linked. For all we know, Samantha may have been mugged.”
“Too coincidental.” I started to get up.
“Nope.” Jack put his hand on my arm. “Pizza.”
“Oh, yeah.” I sat back down.
“Don’t worry. We’ll go with you tomorrow to keep you out of trouble, but let’s at least wait for the excitement to die down,” Gillian said. “Personally, I’d rather you didn’t become a victim.”
“Not after all the work we’ve done around here,” Jack said.
“Gee, thanks, Jack,” I said.
“Back on track, kids,” Gillian said. “Tonight we can haul out our lists to see if there’s any similarity between our suspects for the two murders.”
“After pizza,” Jack reiterated.
****
The parking lot at the top of the hill by the picnic area was deserted the next morning. We pulled into the parking area as close as we could get to the picnic tables and the built-in grills that hadn’t been adequately cleaned. Bits of tin foil and unrecognizable burnt flesh beaded the rods like an infernal necklace suspended over the fire pits.
Jack was wrong. There was no sign of crime scene tape or barricades. At least we wouldn’t be breaking the law. The wind whipped up the hill, thrashing my hair and whipping the ends of my scarf as I climbed out of the car slowly.
“Cass, I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”
“There’s no tape up.” I gestured at the picnic area.
“Yeah, I noticed that. I guess they’re through with the area.”
I couldn’t ask them to do something that ran counter to their consciences. “Look, guys. I really have to do this for my own peace of mind because when you go I’ll still be here, but you two can stay with the car. If the cops come along… I don’t know. Tell them I became hysterical or something and dragged you up here against your will.”
Jack laughed.
Gillian glanced down and picked a piece of lint from her crisp gray wool trousers.
Jack closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Really.”
Jack came to a decision. “No. We’ll help you.” He looked at Gillian.
She nodded reluctantly. “It feels creepy to me.”
Once committed, they got into it, helping me look around. Gillian and Jack moved on ahead deeper into the trees. I followed slowly, looking around for any signs or belongings that the police missed around the tables and grills. I expected a certain amount of detritus but didn’t see any.
As I moved into the woods on the other side of the picnic area, I noticed stains on the trees. I reached up to touch one, but stopped myself. What if it were blood? Is this what Ricardo meant when he said there was blood everywhere? I followed the trail of stains, and it led me to the edge of the cliff. I looked down at the waves swirling over the rocks below and started to lose my balance. Strong hands grabbed me from behind.
“You almost went over! What are you doing?”
When the vertigo subsided, I said, “Jack, look at the trees, the bark. I think that might be a trail of blood from the picnic area to there.” I pointed at the cliff.
“Samantha wasn’t attacked here.”
That stopped me. “How do you know?”
“Because we found the crime scene tape. It’s down below on the other side. She was close to the public beach when she was attacked. Gillian took one look and headed back for the car. I came to find you.”
“What if this is where Alan was attacked?”
Jack bent down to check the stains, which had gotten progressively closer to the ground as the trail approached the cliff. Then he straightened. “Cass, how tall was Alan?”
“If I’m remembering correctly, according to the autopsy report, a couple of inches taller than me. Shorter than you.”
“That wound was in his neck.”
I nodded.
“The stains closest to the picnic area are about the right height for a neck wound on someone his height, but we don’t know if these are blood stains. Kids could have been out here marking the trees with paint. We know the gamers use these woods.”
“They do, and they are vampire gamers. Maybe they were trying to simulate blood,” I said.
“Or using animal blood. You can buy dried blood at gardening supply stores to keep pests out of your garden.”
“Maybe we ought to tell the police. Let them test the stains.”
“Cass, I’m sure they’ve seen all this and taken samples. Seriously. They do this for a living.” He put an arm around me. “Let’s go back to the car. Are you satisfied? Have you seen what you needed to see?”
I nodded. I really didn’t know what I was expecting. Jack was right. Of course the police would have checked all this. They were trained, had equipment, and knew the sorts of things they should look for. I may have felt as though I should be doing something, but now I knew there was no point. It was going to take a cooler head than mine to sort all this out.
Chapter 17
The message light on the landline blinked at me when we got back. I pressed the play button as Jack and Gillian followed me into the kitchen.
George’s noncommittal voice said, “Got your message. Nice to hear from you. What made you think Samantha Ross was murdered? She’s at County General recovering from a beating. Listen. I’m heading out to rehearsal. I’ll call you later. Next time, leave your cell number, and I’ll text you. Check with the hospital. She may be seeing visitors.”
I’d left the landline number precisely because the cell somehow felt more immediate and intimate. I had such mixed feelings about George, but I immediately texted my cell number to George, knowing he wouldn’t be able to answer right away.
“Thank goodness!” Gillian said.
The second message was from Brendan. “I hate leaving messages. Talk to Ricardo.”
Jack laughed.
So much for putting my landline on our flyer. “I’m going to call the hospital.” I looked up the hospital on my phone.
“Let’s get some flowers and go visit if they’ll let us in.” Gillian set out the mugs and put the kettle on.
“Great idea.” I called the hospital. When reception answered, I asked, “Do you have a patient by the name of Samantha Ross? She would have been admitted late yesterday, the victim of a beating.”
The woman asked if I was a relative.
“No, just a friend. She parked her car at my house. She was doing some filming in the woods above my place. I was wondering if she’s there and if I could see her.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.” Then she put me on hold.
The woman came back on the line. “I talked to your friend. She regained consciousness an hour ago. They’ll have her in a room where you can visit her shortly. I’m listing you on her chart. Visiting hours are over for the morning and she’s already been given a sedative, so you couldn’t see her right away even if they get her settled. Why don’t you come down after lunch?”
****
We entered the hospital lobb
y at 1:30 in the afternoon. When it comes to hospitals, I always prefer coming in the front door on my own two feet.
Hospitals smell funny. There’s no way around it. Anyone who’s spent any time in one associates that smell with illness and death. After all, you only come here if you’re sick, dying, or visiting someone who is. If you’re the one who’s sick or dying, you don’t much care what the place smells like.
Samantha had formally added all of us, including Ricardo, to her accepted list of visitors although the receptionist told us that they only checked if they had been alerted to a problem, such as a rowdy ex-husband or ex-girlfriend. I fought hard to keep the smile on my face when I saw Samantha. The bandage on her nose tented outward like a bird’s beak. Her eyes were bloodshot and set in a raccoon’s dark mask.
“Hey, Samantha, how’re you doing? I brought Jack and Gillian, but if we tire you out, let me know.”
Samantha adjusted her position slightly and winced. “Everything hurts. I feel as though I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“Tell the nurse. They’ll give you something stronger.”
“Blocks the vibes.”
“Samantha,” I said in exasperation. “Take the meds.”
Her grin was lopsided and swollen.
“You can joke about this?”
“What else can I do? Someone just tried to kill me. If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.” Her voice was nasal through the bandages.
“Have you talked to the police?” I looked around for a chair.
“Apparently they’ve had someone here since they brought me in. They talked to me as soon as I woke up.”
I scooted the chair up close to her bedside and sat. “What do you remember about yesterday?”
“I’d rather not remember it.”
“We know,” Gillian said. “It must have been horrible. All alone with no one to help you. You must have been terrified.”
Jack added, “We thought if you could remember, perhaps we could go back and look at the site. Maybe find something the police had missed.”
That surprised me after his comments to me, but I appreciated his attempts to support Samantha.
