by Lynn Cahoon
“You’re talking about the missing boy? Thad?” I closed the box and handed her a napkin. “I thought they declared him dead?”
“Courts don’t know everything.” She took the napkin and stared at it like she didn’t know what it was. Then she placed it under the cookie. “The spirits know when someone joins them. And that boy is still alive. Somewhere.”
“That’s why you’ve been watching the ocean. If he was washed to sea, there’s no way he’s still alive.” I wanted to tell her she was giving the parents false hope, but that seemed just a little mean. “Maybe they have it wrong this time.”
The phone rang and Esmeralda’s hand dropped to the switchboard. “The spirits never have it wrong.”
I watched as she picked up the call. I was clearly dismissed. I thought about waiting for her to finish, but then I heard my name.
“Jill? What are you doing here?” Greg and Nathan were standing by the door that led into the interrogation rooms.
I opened the box and push it in front of me as I went to greet them. “I brought cookies.”
“Oh, I’m so hungry. I suppose I missed breakfast over at the B&B.” Nathan took two cookies, then flushed as he looked at Greg. “I mean, your coffee and donut from the vending machine was nice, but I’m used to a big breakfast.”
Greg set his jaw and I knew he was trying not to tell Nathan that murder suspects didn’t really rate the five-star treatment. “This was nice of you. Just on the way home with a random box of cookies?”
Now I flushed, hoping the red on my face wasn’t as visible as the heat felt. “Actually, I am on my way home. We had our business-to-business meeting this morning and I just wanted to clear out the leftovers. You know anything I put in your breakroom disappears quick.”
“You had leftovers?” Greg wasn’t buying my excuse.
Turning to Nathan, I tried to change the subject. “How are you? This must have been quite a shock.”
Nathan wiped the crumbs off his mouth. One of the cookies was gone and he was eyeing another. “Oh, it’s been amazing. I needed this to increase the authenticity of my writing. I mean, I know it’s only a small police station, and I’m sure Greg was being as kind as possible, but it’s been great.”
“You’re happy you were questioned?” I would have been bawling my eyes out, confessing to every evil thought I’d had in my life. I didn’t do well under stress.
“Don’t get me wrong, I feel bad for the guy. But I didn’t kill him. We’ve proven that already. Your boyfriend is a great interrogator.” Nathan slapped Greg on the back. “So I’m heading back to the B&B to get a shower and some writing in. This has really jumpstarted my muse.”
I watched as he took a third cookie from my box and whistling, strode out the door.
“That guy is either a psycho-killer or just freaking clueless. I haven’t decided which. You should have seen how calm he was during the entire process. He even asked for pen and paper to write down everything that was happening. I thought it was for his lawyer, but he never called one.” Greg grabbed a couple of cookies. “I’m so glad he had an alibi. If I had to have him in my jail until trial, I would just shoot him and tell everyone he tried to escape.”
I tried to keep my lips from curling into a smile, but I was unsuccessful. “You wouldn’t.”
“Have you spent more than an hour with the guy?” Greg ran his hand through his hair. “I’m going to tell him he has to ride with Toby for the next couple of nights. Maybe that will keep him out of my hair while I try to find the killer.”
“Bill told me it was Walter was that was killed. I just saw him at the reception.” I could see the weariness on Greg’s face. “Have you slept at all?”
He put his hand on my arm. “A little. I’m going into my office for a quick power nap before I go out to the farm and start interviewing the staff. Someone had to see this guy. And I need to think of who would have known about Nathan’s scene. I’m sure that’s not a big pool of people. If I’m lucky, I might have this sewn up by our date night on Thursday.”
I leaned in and kissed him quickly. “I’m not holding my breath. I’ll see you when I see you. Go to sleep.”
The day had brightened even more as I finished my walk home. Tourists were beginning to arrive for the day. Tuesdays were slow off-season, but since it was early June, we had people visiting all week long. Which meant I needed to see if Sasha could commit to a summer schedule sooner than later. If she didn’t want full time, I’d need more than Nick’s summer hours to man the shop and the events where we were sending the food truck.
Good thing I’d planned to take the summer off from school myself. I dialed Sasha’s number, but got her voicemail. Leaving a message for her to call, I noticed Esmeralda’s little smart car flying past me on the street.
She pulled into her driveway, unlocked her front door, and threw her purse and keys inside the house. After slamming the door, she ran toward the beach. I glanced at the cell. It was just after noon. Maybe she was taking her lunch break and meeting someone at the beach? Somehow, I knew that wasn’t the explanation. If I took Emma down to the beach for a run, I bet I’d see her standing on the roadside on the bluff, watching the surf.
The girl was going off the deep end. And I was afraid this time, no one was going to be there to catch her.
I didn’t have time to run as I had to go in to town and do some research at the library. I’d wanted to Google the information, but I figured my professor would know if I took that shortcut. Probably all my other class members had already finished the assignment, and it was just me who was being old school about the process. Besides, even if he didn’t mention it, I knew that Aunt Jackie would be horrified to know I didn’t comb the book stacks to find my answers.
Emma whined as I grabbed my book bag and keys. When I told her to stay, she lay down with a thud and put her head between her legs. Then she gave me the look. The pity-me-I’m-abused look. “Sorry girl, I’ve got a couple more classes; then you can go with me all summer.”
She closed her eyes. I guess she didn’t believe my answer. At least not today. Emma had been a gift from Greg the first months we started dating. I’d loved the small little bundle of fur who’d played tug-of-war and go fetch long before we’d become running buddies. Now, she played games with Greg when he was at the house. Emma would love having Greg here 24/7, or at least all the time when he wasn’t working. That was an item in the plus column. My dog would love it if Greg moved in.
I sang along with the radio all the way to the campus in Bakerstown. The ocean was calm and the sun bounced off the water brightly. Driving Highway 1 made me happy. The weather could be good, windy, or even rainy; it didn’t matter. I still loved driving by the water. The ocean always looked different, day-to-day. As I parked my car in a lot next to the library, I realized I hadn’t seen Esmeralda by the cliff as I drove out of town. Maybe she’d gone back to work before I went by.
“Not your business,” I whispered to myself. But as was typical, I didn’t listen. I dialed the station.
“South Cove Police Department, may I help you?” The voice on the phone was female, but didn’t belong to Esmeralda.
“Amy, what are you doing answering the police calls?” I leaned on my car, not wanting to start walking until I knew what had happened to my neighbor.
“Jill. Where are you? I heard you brought cookies. Why didn’t you hook a sister up?” Amy loved sweets, although with her body type, you’d never know it. The girl was in great shape without any effort. I had to work out for an hour to wipe out the calories in a couple of cookies.
“Sorry, I had to get to class. Besides, Nathan was there and he threw me for a loop.” I went with honesty. I’d forgotten all about my friend in the office down the hall.
“No biggie, I get it. Wasn’t that Twilight Zone weird with Nathan writing the exact same scene as the murder?” A truck drove by the parking lot and blared at a bike-riding student who thought he had some right to the road. “Where are you? I c
an barely hear you.”
“On campus. I’ve got some work to do before class tonight.” I shifted my book bag to set it on the Jeep’s hood. “So where’s Esmeralda?”
“No one knows. She just disappeared at lunch. She wasn’t at the house when you drove by, was she?”
My mind returned to the last time I saw my neighbor and fear filled my heart. “Tell Greg she went running toward the beach about 12:05. I saw her throw her keys and purse into the house, and then she took off on foot. You don’t think she hurt herself, do you?”
“Why would she put her purse away if she was going to hurt herself?” Amy paused. “Look, Greg just came in. I’ll tell him what you said and I’ll call with any updates.”
I put my phone in my back pocket, just in case Amy called sooner than later and headed across the campus to the library. I might not be able to think straight until I heard back, but I’d at least try to get the research done for my assignment. It was going to be a long night if she didn’t call back.
No one called before I had to go into my economics class. I’d actually finished all of my research a few minutes before I had to leave the library. I pulled out my phone as I walked across campus, but no missed calls either. I dialed Greg’s number and got voicemail. I dialed Amy’s cell. No answer either. There was no reason to leave a message. My professor was old school and made all of us turn off our phones during class. He didn’t even want to hear chimes for text updates. Unfortunately for me, my mind was less on the mechanics of the business world, and more on what happened to Esmeralda.
As soon as class was over, I tried calling Greg. The call went directly to voicemail. Amy, on the other hand, picked up on the second ring.
“Sorry I didn’t call you back, but it’s been busy here.” Amy’s voice sounded like she had me on speaker.
“Esmeralda was hurt?” Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.
“What are you talking about?” Amy picked up the phone and her voice came over clearer.
“Don’t tell me she’s dead. I really can’t handle another death.” I sank down onto a stone bench.
“Who’s dead? Oh, Esmeralda? She’s fine. She was just late coming back from lunch. She said she lost track of time.” Amy gasped as she realized her mistake. “Sorry, I was supposed to call you, huh?”
“Yes, you were.” I shook off the chills that had surrounded me for a moment. “So what kept you so busy?”
“Justin and I are painting his new living room. I told you he bought a house, right?” Amy said something to Justin, then came back on the line. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. We have pizza coming and the room’s only half done.”
I put my phone away and walked back to my car. I’d spent a lot of wasted energy on worrying about something that hadn’t even happened. I drove back to South Cove, thinking about what I could remember about the professor’s lecture. Economics didn’t make sense to me, at least not when this guy talked. I thought I’d understand something when I read the text, but once in class, it felt like he was talking a different language.
The night was warm and I had the windows down, letting in the sea breeze. Class nights made me tired, especially since I’d been up at four thirty to open the shop. When I’d signed up for two classes, I’d figured I’d have Sasha take the early shift for at least one of those days. That hadn’t happened. I was now pondering the state of Sasha and Toby’s relationship when I came around the last corner on Highway 1.
A black figure stood in the road. I put on the brakes and swerved, hoping I hadn’t hit them too hard. That could send the car into a spin, but on the other hand, I prayed that I’d turned the car enough to miss the person. I got control of the Jeep and pulled it over to the side of the road.
Getting out, I scanned behind me to see who I’d almost hit. At least I hoped it had been almost. I hadn’t heard a bump when I went past.
Near the side of the road, the black figure morphed into a woman who stood, gazing out toward the ocean and looking like those New England waifs you hear about in gothic romance stories. But this was a real person, not an apparition. As I got closer, I recognized her.
The woman I’d almost killed was my neighbor, Esmeralda. As she turned toward me, tears fell from her eyes.
“I hear him calling and the voices are getting more insistent, but I can’t find the boy.” She fell into my arms. “If I don’t hurry, I’ll be responsible for his death.”
CHAPTER 7
I’d bundled the sobbing woman into my Jeep and driven her home. Now, I stood at her kitchen stove, putting a kettle of water on to boil. Maggie, her full-black cat, wove in and out through my legs. She had kept crossing the road to my house last summer and Emma loved her.
“You don’t have to stay.” Esmeralda’s voice sounded flat, like all emotion had fallen out of her entire body. I’d never heard her this bad.
The whistle on the kettle went off and I poured hot water into two cups with a bag of huckleberry tea I’d found in her cupboard. I brought the cups to the table and sat them down. “I’ll leave when you tell me what’s been going on. And don’t tell me nothing. I’ve seen you up on that bluff during my runs. Then this afternoon, you take off running toward the beach and wind up late back to work. Then I almost run you over at”—I checked my watch—“after ten and in the dark.”
“It’s not that dark at ten. The sun had just set.” Esmeralda took a sip of her tea. “Besides, how did you know I was late back to work? Has your boyfriend been complaining about me?”
“No. Amy answered the phone when I called the station. She told me.” I ran a finger over the lip of my tea cup. “And don’t go blaming them. Everyone’s worried about you. So tell me what’s going on.”
“I told you. I had a vision and the voices won’t leave me alone about it. It’s okay that you don’t believe me. I’m not sure I would if I were you.” She stood and took off her coat. “Look, I’m wiped and I’m going to head to bed. Let yourself out.”
I watched as she disappeared out of the kitchen. Maggie looked at me, yawned, then followed her. I guess sharing time was over. Time to go home. I put the cups in the sink, made sure the stove was off, and then locked the door after me as I went outside to my car.
Five minutes later, I was sitting at my own kitchen table. I hadn’t noticed before how similar our houses were. I pulled out a notebook and started scribbling in it. I didn’t know which mystery I wanted to solve. The one where my neighbor swears she hears dead people or the guy that was killed somehow with the magic of a book? I decided to make two pages.
I wasn’t sure how I’d help find a kid who had been missing for too long to be alive. But I wrote down everything I knew about the disappearance of Thad Coltrane. And at the end of the page, I wrote my next step: Contact the coast guard and see if there were any caves out on that part of the coast. Maybe Esmerelda’s vision was true and the kid was just too scared or hurt to climb out of where he was located.
Looking up the webpage, I found a media contact for the local Coast Guard agency and sent off an e-mail to see if they had a list of coastal caves. I was glad Greg wasn’t here to witness my Pollyanna explanation. This was one of the reasons I thought his moving in was a bad idea. I had an inability to stay out of the sleuthing. I put the idea away and turned back to figuring out a good ending. I might be wrong, but why did stories always have to turn out tragically? I loved the happily ever after ending. After writing Walter’s name on the top of the next page, I stood and stretched. No need to go on. I was beat and pretty soon, I’d be writing my own and everyone around else’s words rather than what needed to go on the paper. I respected one thing about me and I always had.
When my body said I was beat, it was time to turn in.
*
The next morning, I was sitting at the counter in the shop when the bell over the door rang behind me. Looking back to the door, I saw Nathan Pike walk in. He waved, which gave me time to put the notebook away before he hit the counter. “What can I do for y
ou?”
“I need one of everything and a carafe of coffee. Detective King has been so accommodating. I just want to pay him back.” Nathan picked up a life-size cardboard picture of himself and smiled. “Do I really look like this?”
The publisher had sent the promotion. I hadn’t wanted to set it up, especially by the counter, but Aunt Jackie had insisted. In his cardboard hand, he held an invitation to Friday night’s event. I shrugged. “A little I guess. But the cardboard image of you isn’t as talkative as you are in person.”
“Or probably as easy on the eyes. You don’t have to be shy about it. I am a very handsome man.” He matched his grin to the cardboard photo and I wondered how long he’d practiced that same smile.
“And modest too.” I looked around the empty shop. I couldn’t say I was too busy to talk, so I got back to business. “So what did you want again?”
“Greg told me since I’m a person of interest in the murder investigation I’m not allowed to go on any call outs that deal with the case. So I’m hanging out at the station. He set me up in my own office so I can keep writing.” Nathan shivered. “I am so excited to be on the inside of the case, it’s crazy. I have to get my word count in each day, but that will be a piece of cake. I’ve got so much inspiration from the last week.”
“Too bad someone had to die to provide it.” I waited a beat for him to get my implication and then re-asked my question. “Now, what did you want?”
He repeated his order, slowly nodding his head. Then he met my eyes. “You’re right of course. No one should be this excited about a murder, especially someone well-loved in a small town like this. I should temper my own good luck with the knowledge that the victim’s luck has run out.” He grabbed a napkin and a pen off my counter. “That’s an excellent line for my PI to say. He’s the sensitive type.”
