by Chloe Young
Mark came out of the kitchen from where he had grabbed another beer. “You leaving, babe. Be sure to get plenty. I’m starved.”
Megan gave Mark a kiss on the lips. “Be right back. You ready, Kristi?”
Kristi smiled. “All ready. Damon said the grocery store is just down four blocks or so. Can’t miss it.”
Kristi and Megan grabbed their wallets and the car keys and headed out of the front door. The beach house had a small walkway that went down to the sand and then veered off to the left and around back where the car was parked. As the girls walked down towards the beach, they saw something written in the sand. It appeared that someone had taken a stick or something and written a message directly in front of their beach house.
Megan walked down to read the message. “That’s weird. It says Jonathan. I wonder who would write that in front of our place like that.”
Kristi came over to take a look. “Who knows? Probably some kid writing his name or something. Come on, let’s go.”
Megan and Kristi made their way around to the Jeep. Kristi hopped into the driver’s seat while Megan happily took a seat on the passenger’s side. Kristi put the Jeep into drive and they were on their way to the store.
***
Damon had no desire to sit in the beach house with Mark until the girls returned with the food. He hated guys like Mark; egocentric men who looked at women as objects to be conquered. The thing that bothered Damon most was that even though Mark was a complete jerk, he really couldn’t compete with him. Regardless of how much he cared for Kristi and what he did for her, she would still end up in the arms of a guy like Mark. He hated the fact that she had sex with Mark behind his back and played him like a fool. Damon could read people better than most; he recognized the way that Mark looked at her, talked to her, and wanted her. Being made out to be a fool was not an option and he knew he had to rectify the situation.
Damon headed out the front door for some fresh air. As he headed down to the beach, he recognized the writing in the sand. The name JONATHAN was written in huge, capital letters directly in front of his beach house. Who the hell would know about his brother?
Damon took a look at the neighboring beach houses. There were people lying on the sand, playing volleyball, swimming in the ocean, and having picnics. Then he caught sight of that old, hobo sitting out in front of his hovel of a beach house with that damn dog.
With his foot, Damon wiped away the message in the sand. He decided that maybe he should be neighborly and pay his new friend a visit.
***
Horace knew what had happened to that family and had the newspaper articles and memories to prove it. He definitely found it odd that the older brother would come back here to vacation after all of these years. It was especially odd that he refused to acknowledge what had happened here. What was there to be ashamed of after all of these years? Horace still remembered that night well. He saw more than he should have, but still held firm to the idea that it’s best to stay out of business that isn’t his own personal business.
As Horace was contemplating the odd circumstances, he saw the older brother making his way over to him and Max. “Howdy, neighbor. Just enjoyin’ the nice evenin’ air. Sorry if I said somethin’ wrong earlier.”
Damon looked down at Horace and Max. He almost felt sorry for them. Almost. “I don’t know what fucking games you’re playing but I’ve had enough.”
Horace couldn’t help but chuckle as he got to his feet. “I’m not playin’ any games, boy. Just think you should remember your little brother. This was after all, the place you came with him as a child. You need to respect him.”
Max began to whine and whimper as Damon took a step towards Horace. “Look, I don’t understand how you know about Jonathan, but I don’t want you bringing that shit up again. Drop it, or you’ll regret it.”
With that, Damon made his way back up the beach to his beach house. Horace couldn’t help but watch as Damon made his way back inside. “That damn kid thinks he can scare me. This is my beach though, Max. My beach.”
CHAPTER 18
Kristi pulled up at the “Food Mart” which was exactly four blocks from the beach house. She was impressed that Damon remembered the lay out of this beach town so well considering he hadn’t been here since he was a kid.
She parked in the very back of the parking lot. Damon sure liked his Jeep, and she didn’t want to be responsible for any dings in the parking lot.
Megan got out of the vehicle. “Not the greatest looking store, but I’m sure it will have the basics.”
Kristi and Megan went inside of the small grocery store. Megan took a cart and they began to peruse the aisles looking for dinner food, snacks, and beverages. They piled in hamburgers, hot dogs, buns, ketchup, pickles, chips, beer, soda, and water. They were sure to grab some food for breakfast the next morning too.
Kristi peered into the cart. “Think we got enough? It really isn’t good to shop on an empty stomach.”
Megan laughed as they made their way to the checkout line. Of course there was one cashier working and a line backed up into the center aisle. With a deep sigh, Megan and Kristi cemented their place in line.
***
Detective Sullivan finally made his way to the beach town. He forgot how much he enjoyed the fresh air and the sound of the ocean. His job gave him few opportunities to come down here or to take a vacation of any kind for that matter. Let’s face facts though, he was way too dedicated to vacation. And besides, who would he take with him? It was hard enough to be his age and not married, let alone be his age and have no prospects in sight.
Sullivan decided to start down at the south end and work his way back up to the main highway. The sun was beginning to set and he would need the light to see the Jeep if it was even out here anyway.
Sullivan drove around rows of beach houses and condos that were available for rent during the summer months. He saw lots of vehicles parked outside of these summer homes, but nothing that resembled that olive-green Jeep. Then he made his way to the small shopping center at the end of the beach community. There was a grocery store, surf shop, and a few stores that sold clothes and swim wear.
As he approached the “Food Mart” at the center of the shopping center, Sullivan caught sight of the Jeep parked in the back of the shopping area. It was definitely the right color. Too bad they were unable to read the license plate on the surveillance cameras outside of the convenience store.
Sullivan parked his undercover car about ten yards away from the Jeep. He was under some kind of a tree that would give him some shade and hopefully not draw any attention to himself. It was a good thing he had opted to not take the police cruiser. Now this was real, undercover police work. He decided he would wait to see who got into the Jeep, snap a few pictures, and see where this vehicle ends up.
The detective slouched down some in the driver’s seat and made sure his camera was perfectly zoomed in on the vehicle in question. As he began to relax some, he saw two young women approaching the Jeep. They were carting about six bags of groceries. Both women were very attractive and appeared to be doing nothing more than getting food for their vacation.
Sullivan began to snap pictures of the women as they were unloading the cart. As he zoomed in on the brunette, he began to feel as if he had seen her before. Then he realized that she looked like the girl seen on the surveillance tape walking out of the restroom. If that were true, then he would be able to confirm that this vehicle about indeed been the one at the gas station earlier that day when Cliff was murdered.
He would have to get a still shot off of the surveillance tape and compare it to these pictures to be sure this was the same girl.
The blonde got into the driver’s seat and the women took off in the Jeep. Was it really possible that these beautiful girls had murdered an innocent gas station attendant just hours ago? Sullivan wasn’t sure, but if there was anything he knew about this business, it was that you could never rule anything out. With that thought,
he slowly pulled onto the road behind the Jeep.
He followed them for a few blocks until the Jeep turned off and pulled in at the beach house. Sullivan was satisfied with his work. He potentially had the vehicle and the murderer. He began to wonder how the murder may have gone down. Did she stab the guy so she could get some free food? Did she murder the guy and then clean herself off in the bathroom?
He knew he had to confirm that this was the same girl and then have his crew check that bathroom from top to bottom for any sign of blood. He would be back to the beach house soon enough once he had some answers.
CHAPTER 19
Susan and Clint settled themselves down in their hotel room. They had decided to lie down for a while before seeking out some food for dinner. This day had been far more exhausting than either of them had anticipated.
Clint was hoping that they would be able to get a tire and tank of gas in the morning so that they could be at the beach house in the afternoon. The auto body shop was just a couple of miles away, and it shouldn’t take long to get the job done. The tow truck driver certainly made it difficult to be optimistic though.
Susan snuggled in next to her husband on the bed, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep. Clint was not far behind her.
***
Kristi and Megan pulled back up at the beach house. Mark met the girls out by the car to carry in the food. Kristi appreciated the fact that Mark was such a gentleman. Megan appreciated that about him too, although she didn’t always trust his motives.
They made their way into the beach house to see that Damon had already fired up the grill. Soon the smell of grilled burgers and hot dogs occupied the patio and house. Megan grabbed the chips, ketchup, pickles, and beers. The four of them enjoyed a good dinner on the patio. It was the first time that the four of them had actually sat down together and had a real conversation without any sort of arguing.
They talked about Damon’s childhood at the beach and about their dreams for the future. Mark sat next to his girlfriend, but couldn’t help but stare at Kristi the entire time. She looked beautiful in the twilight, and he wondered what it would take to convince her that he was a decent guy.
The sounds of laughter and the smells of food had not filled the house for years. For a moment, Damon wondered if he had forgotten about all of the good family moments that had taken place here. Then he quickly dismissed that idea, thinking about all of memories that were plagued by his brother. He would play along and have a good time tonight, but then he would be ready to make his move.
***
Horace peered through the window in his house. He held the binoculars to his eyes and looked across the way to see what Damon was up to at the moment. Even with the sun having set, he could make out four figures sitting on the patio enjoying a meal. Max began to sniff as the aromas of real food drifted over from across the way. Horace decided to allow them to enjoy this meal tonight. There would be plenty of time to unveil the truth. He walked away from the window, sat down on the couch, and propped his feet up. Max obediently laid down next to his master.
CHAPTER 20
Sullivan took a long drink of his coffee; he had barely slept after all of the excitement from the previous day. There had been a murder, a stakeout, and clues beginning to take shape. Unfortunately, there were more loose ends and questions than answers at this point. Was the girl in the Jeep the same girl who was taped leaving the restroom? Was this the same Jeep that was parked at the gas station? Was that woman a murderer? And if she was, why would she want to murder Cliff?
Sullivan had instructed Barrett to bring him still shots from the surveillance tape. He would soon know whether or not that was the same girl who was seen in the convenience store. If it was, he would have due reason to go down and question her. Luckily, he knew where to find her. He also ordered Barrett to have the forensics team search that restroom for any trace of blood. As soon as he had the evidence he needed, he would be headed back out to that beach house.
***
Clint sat in the hotel room chair next to the window. The first floor room was situated on the side of the hotel so all Cliff could see was an empty alley way with a large dumpster at the end of it. Susan was using the hotel room coffee maker to make two cups of coffee. Despite the fact that they were in a strange hotel room, they both slept solidly through the night. The previous day had been tiring, and they certainly had not had an adventure like that in some time.
Cliff took the coffee cup from Susan’s hands. “Thanks, dear. About to call over to that auto body shop and see if we can catch a ride over there.”
Susan began sorting through some luggage so she could take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. “Well, I certainly hope it’s ready. This trip has already had all of the excitement that I can handle.”
***
Damon was the first one to get out of bed. Kristi was sound asleep, rolled over onto her side. It didn’t appear as if she would be getting up any time soon. He peered across the hall to see that the door to Mark and Megan’s room was still shut. Damon picked up the pants he had been wearing the day before and headed down the stairs.
He had been hoping to rid himself of the knife that he placed in the pocket of those pants the day before. However, he never had the opportunity to be alone long enough to make sure it was done properly. Damon slid into some flip flops and headed out the door.
As he shut the front door, he looked up to see a paper taped right onto the center of it. It was an old, slightly crinkled newspaper article. Damon glanced over the headline, photograph, and content of the article. It had been printed the day after Jonathan had gone missing and the headline read Young Boy Lost at Beach.
Damon tried to suppress his anger as he ripped the article off of the door. “That sick fuck held onto this for all of these years and is now playing some damn prank on me.” He looked over to his neighbor’s house and saw no signs of any activity.
Damon began to walk along the beach in the direction of Horace’s house. Although it was only 8 in the morning, it was already damn hot. He could feel the beads of sweat begin to form on the back of his neck. He continued to walk in that direction, the knife in his pocket and the article held firmly in his hand. Once he reached Horace’s home, if someone wanted to call it that, he peered in through the window. That bum was passed out on the couch with that stupid dog by his side. That dog must’ve been awfully important to Horace. Damon began to wonder how ol’ Horace would function without his loyal companion.
Damon didn’t have time to ponder Horace’s condition any more at the moment. He continued along the beach until he reached a pier towards the northernmost end of it. By this time, sweat was running down his forehead. He sat down at the end of the pier and gazed out over the ocean. The ocean seemed to go on forever and ever, it was impossible to tell from this vantage point what may lie within it. In fact, really anything could go missing out there and never be found. Damon tore the newspaper article in tiny pieces and threw it out over the edge of the pier into the ocean. Immediately, the tiny pieces of paper absorbed the water and became unrecognizable. Eventually, the paper would disintegrate and nobody would know the difference. He couldn’t help but think what would’ve happened had someone else gotten up first and made their way out the door. What would Kristi say had she seen this article about his beach house and what had happened to his brother? For all she knew, he had never had a brother. Had they discovered the article, his plan would have not unfolded as he wanted it to. Horace had no reason to get involved in his business.
Damon took a look around him on the beach. It was too early for all of the tourists to be out in the water on the shore. There were a couple of guys fishing, but they were too far away to make out any discernible features. Damon removed the knife from his pocket and tossed it as far out into the ocean as he possibly could throw it. He knew that no one would really care about the death of some small town kid who worked as a cashier at a gas station shop. The cops would probably talk to the
family, look for some clues, and declare there wasn’t enough evidence to solve the case. There certainly wasn’t anything to pin it on him. He figured those blood stained napkins wouldn’t turn up any real evidence for those small town cops. Even if they were spotted at the shop, he would say that he paid for his merchandise and left civilly; no one would be able to say otherwise.
With the knife safely out of his possession, Damon stood up and walked back up the pier. As he was nearing the end of the pier, he could see Horace in the distance. He had finally gotten himself up off of the couch. As Damon began to walk back up the shore line, he could see that Horace was also headed further down the beach. He appeared to be carrying a fishing line. It made sense that he would need to catch something to eat every now and then. It’s not like he had any source of income with which to purchase food. As Horace came closer into view, it was obvious that Max was not following his owner down the beach. Damon supposed that it was too far and too hot for that mutt to walk down the beach to do some fishing.
