Lenses, Lust, and Murder: A Crystal Coast Case (Crystal Coast Cases Book 2)

by A M Ialacci

  Copyright © 2019 by A.M. Ialacci

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  To Dad

  For being proud of me no matter what I do (except getting that tattoo), and for teaching me patience and humor by example.

  I need both of them in spades in order to do this crazy writing gig.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Enjoyed Lenses, Lust, and Murder?

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by A.M. Ialacci

  Chapter One

  When she reached the foot of the lighthouse steps, Harriet Brennan looked over her shoulder. She wasn’t supposed to be here. There was plenty yet to do before the gala began, but she had been summoned and had avoided this meeting for long enough. Satisfied no one was around, she concentrated on navigating the replica steps to the lighthouse door, made to the standards of when it had originally been constructed. Having conquered the most dangerous part of the lighthouse climb, she looked up once inside the nine-foot-thick walls and sighed, annoyed. Why couldn’t we meet on flat ground? I don’t know, she thought. Because I’m not looking forward to huffing and puffing my way up these damned steps. She was used to the administrative tasks that defined her job, and had been a Level 11 for so long, she wasn’t even sure she had a ranger uniform that still fit. She grabbed the flowing red skirt in her right hand and the handrail on her left and began the ascent to the top of the Diamond Lady. When she arrived in the watch house, she found she was not alone and cleared her throat.

  “Ah, you’ve made it,” she said.

  “I didn’t want to do this the hard way, but you’ve been avoiding me,” he said. “No…” It was a halfhearted attempt because it wasn’t true. She had been avoiding him.

  “I told you to fix it.” The pleasant tone was gone.

  “I don’t have to do anything,” Harriet spat. She felt her chest and neck flushing with heat as the anger rose inside. “What are you going to do about it?” she challenged.

  His face contorted in fury, and Harriet realized she’d gone too far. She had escalated the situation and knew he was unpredictable when angry.

  “It wasn’t a request, Harriet. And you didn’t comply, so…”

  “There’s still time,” she backpedaled. “Maybe I could…”

  “Like I’d trust you now,” he said, followed by a cruel half-laugh. “No, now it’s up to me to…” A pause. “Take care of it.”

  That sounded like a command. He brushed past her and she could hear his footsteps on the stairs, but there were suddenly hands on her shoulders. Is my mind playing tricks on me?

  Something was around her neck and she couldn’t breathe. Her hands clawed at the fingers around her windpipe as she struggled for breath. She wrenched her body to try to free herself, but wobbled on the three-inch heels on her feet. Spots dotted her vision, and then a hard shove. Her head slammed into a fist-sized bolt near the oval door frame to the outdoor gallery. Harriet’s vision went dark, then she saw stars, and briefly the full moon in the night sky as she crumpled to the floor. Her face was slick and warm as her eyelids fell closed. She floated, feeling a thrust of pressure to her abdomen, then another. Then her consciousness faded to nothing.

  Chapter Two

  Allie Fox nestled back into Mike’s side as the catamaran motored past Bird Island. The sun was setting and putting on quite a show for the boatload of visitors headed toward Cape Lookout for a special event at the lighthouse. The sky was painted in several shades of sherbet and the water was calmer than Allie had ever seen it, a “slick cam” as the Downeasterners called it, which meant a smooth ride. Mike had surprised her with tickets to the event which combined a full-moon lighthouse climb and a fundraising gala.

  Ryan had been invited to come along to represent the programs the National Park Service had initiated with the Autism Society. He and a few of his friends shared his binoculars to try to catch glimpses of wildlife on the islands as they passed. The boat slowed as it neared Shackleford Island, home to wild horses that survived on marsh grass and pockets of fresh water.

  “If you look off the port side, you’ll see a stallion with three of his harem out on the shore, and it looks like… Yes, behind one of those lovely ladies is one of the new foals this year,” the boat captain said over the loudspeaker.

  A collective aww arose from the passengers.

  “So cute,” Allie said, her head resting on Mike’s shoulder. Even though a gala was usually a black-tie affair, Allie had found that in Carteret County, dressy rarely meant more than your best pair of shorts and a button-down shirt, for the men, anyway. Mike, though, had opted for a nice pair of chinos and a polo shirt.

  “All babies are cute,” he said.

  “Spoken like someone who has never seen a whole mess of spider babies,” she said. She sat up and adjusted the straps on her sundress.

  Mike laughed. “Yeah, maybe not all babies. It still amazes me how your mind works.”

  The captain allowed a few minutes for pictures, and Mike stood and shook his hand, chatting with him, while Allie checked on Ryan and his friends.

  “Horses!” Ryan said, beaming.

  “I know!” Allie said. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  Ryan looked so adult-like in his own polo shirt, even though she couldn’t get him to wear long pants. She was lucky if she could get him to switch from shorts even in the dead of winter, but it wasn’t a battle that was worth fighting if neurotypical attendees were wearing shorts, too.

  She came back to her seat just as Mike was returning. He said, “That’s Gary Gillikin, a cousin of my dad’s. He used to run his own ferry from Harkers Island out to the Cape and Shack before the NPS consolidated it to one contractor.”

  “I’m surprised he works for the company that took his job,” Allie said.

  “Didn’t really have a choice, did he? Sometimes you gotta roll with the punches.”

  “I suppose. I know people are still upset about it.”

  “Yeah. Downeasterners are not really known to have short memories,” Mike said.

  Captain Gillikin reached for the com and said, “All
right folks, I got to get you to the Cape before the festivities begin.” The boat increased in speed, and within a few minutes, it was pulling up to the National Park Service dock in view of the black and white diamonds of the Cape Lookout Lighthouse. The teenage girl serving as mate on the catamaran placed the short set of steps up to the side of the boat and handed passengers off to the dock. Allie and Mike followed the young adults in Ryan’s group down the dock and continued along the raised wooden platform decking toward the lighthouse itself, about a hundred yards to the south. The decking gave way to a red brick path and there, several rangers stood to meet the group. The rangers explained the rules: only ten people were allowed on the gallery, use the left side of the steps while going up, flashlights were recommended—although small lanterns would be interspersed on the steps, and those with medical conditions were not recommended to climb at all. They reminded everyone to remove any sunglasses they may have been wearing and cautioned them to pay particular attention to the skinny steps up to the door of the lighthouse, which were the most dangerous part of the climb.

  When it came time to climb, Ryan decided he wasn’t interested and Allie had a moment of slight panic. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone but also desperately wanted to see the views from the top of the lighthouse. The young ranger who had reviewed the rules for their group had overheard Ryan’s declaration and stepped closer.

  “Ryan can hang out here with me while you do the climb,” she said. “We’re old friends from our visits to the Autism Center. And it looks like a few of them don’t want to go up.”

  Ryan smiled, recognizing a friend.

  “That’s very kind of you,” Allie said.

  “I’m happy to,” she said. “I’m Ranger Dowling. You’re his sister, Allie, right?”

  “I am,” Allie said. “I remember you from the ASNC center events. He talks about me?”

  “All the time,” Ranger Dowling said.

  “All right, then. If you’re sure it’s okay.”

  Ranger Dowling waved her off, and she and Mike set off up the steep steps.

  They climbed the 207 steps to the top of the lighthouse, lined with small lanterns for the event, and emerged on the deck of the gallery of the Cape Lookout lighthouse. Allie’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the tug of the full moon over the ocean’s waves. Or was it the tug of gravity from being 169 feet above sea level with only a rusting metal barrier between her and oblivion? She backed away from the edge and Mike encircled her waist with his arms, pulling her back toward the solidity of the wall behind them as the light from the lens above them flashed. The panoramic views of the ocean and the Sound made Allie feel as if she was seeing something secret, something very few people had ever seen.

  The other eight visitors with them on the gallery spoke in hushed tones in natural reverence for the almost supernatural views. The somber ranger with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail tipped his hat to Allie when she stole a look at him. “Evening, ma’am,” he said.

  “Good evening,” she said, blushing at being caught studying him. Mike pointed out the lights of the shrimp boats in the Sound and the slow-moving freighters out on the ocean. Allie could hear the soft murmur of conversation and occasional laughter from the group at the base of the lighthouse, waiting their turns to ascend the steps and see what she was seeing.

  Allie turned to Mike. “Thank you for bringing me here tonight. It’s … beautiful.”

  He laughed. “Words don’t do it justice, do they?”

  She shook her head, staring at the rippling reflection of the moon on the vast, dark ocean. She felt a little flutter in her stomach, a bit of panic at the sudden thought that Mike might get carried away and ask her something she wasn’t prepared for. She turned away. “Should we head back down? Others are waiting.”

  “They can wait a few more minutes,” he said, pulling her close again. Another flutter. Just enjoy the moment, she reminded herself.

  “I love bringing you to stuff like this. It reminds me of how amazing it was the first time I saw it as a kid. It’s almost like coming home,” he said, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

  She sighed, her heart melting. “You have the soul of a poet, Mike Gillikin.”

  He kissed her and took her hand just as an all-too-familiar wail ripped the night open.

  Chapter Three

  Allie scrambled down the steps as quickly as she could in the dark, with Mike close behind. A million and one things ran through her mind as she tried not to imagine what could have made Ryan cry out like that.

  Why isn’t he with Ranger Dowling? She almost tumbled down the steps to the ground and saw Ranger Dowling on her radio, looking frantic. “Where’s Ryan?” Allie demanded.

  “I turned around and he was gone. I called for assistance but no one has shown up. I couldn’t leave my post!”

  Allie didn’t wait to respond and turned to Mike. “You go that way, and I’ll go this way. Call my cell if you find him.”

  “Cell phone is spotty out here, but we’ll find him,” Mike said and headed off toward the interior of the island. Allie turned the opposite direction and enabled the flashlight function on her phone. He couldn’t have gotten that far if I heard him from the top of the lighthouse. She searched the scrub brush closest to the base of the lighthouse and then gradually went deeper into the pines. After a while, she could hear Ryan’s voice, scripting lines from one of his favorite shows, comforting himself and telling himself that everything would be all right. And something else. A girl’s voice.

  Finally, she spotted him sitting cross-legged on the ground and rocking slightly back and forth. A girl about his age with short, dark hair was sitting next to him, patting his back.

  That’s his friend, Frankie.

  Ryan noticed Allie’s light and jumped off the ground, running into her arms.

  “What is it, Ryan? Are you okay?”

  He held her tightly for much longer than was typical. Frankie stood and approached them warily. Ryan was trembling, and Allie knew something had scared him badly. When he finally released her, he pointed back to where he had been sitting. “She’s dead,” he said, and a chill ran up Allie’s spine.

  “Who’s dead?” Allie asked.

  “The lady,” Ryan said and pointed again.

  “Miss Allie,” Frankie said, approaching. “When he took off, I followed him. He said he saw a body back there and wouldn’t let me look.”

  “Do you both want to sit here and wait for me to go look? Or do you want to come with me?” she asked.

  Ryan sat down where he was in response. Frankie shrugged and sat as well.

  Allie made sure she could see them as she walked back to where Ryan had pointed. She knew she should call Mike, but she wanted to see what Ryan had found first.

  Rounding a large pine tree, Allie saw the woman’s strawberry-blonde hair first. It had come loose from some type of up-do and fanned out on the pine needles below her. Her face was obscured by the rough material partially covering her. Is that burlap? Not wanting to disturb any evidence, she took a few photos, noting the red dress, the matted blood in her hair, and smeared blood on her right arm and hand. There was also a darker mark along her right index finger. Maybe ink of some kind? Some blood had transferred to the burlap, as well. Careful not to disturb the ground more than she had, Allie shined her flashlight and saw what could have been drag marks leading to the body. Maybe not killed here, then, she thought. Time to raise the alarm and call Mike.

  Reception was spotty, as Mike said it might be. “Found Ryan. And his friend. And also a body,” she said.

  “What?” Mike asked.

  “Did you not hear me, or are you just shocked?” she asked.

  “I heard Ryan and body!” he said.

  “Ryan is safe. But he found a dead body,” she repeated. “Meet us at the lighthouse.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  Allie grabbed Ryan by the hand, who grabbed Frankie’s hand, and they ventured bac
k toward the base of the lighthouse. More rangers had gathered there, but Ranger Dowling spotted them first. “Oh, thank God!” she said. “Ryan, Frankie, are you okay?”

  Ryan nodded and pressed into Allie’s side, away from Ranger Dowling while Frankie nodded and rocked back and forth on her heels. Ryan hid his face in Allie’s shoulder as another ranger with the National Park Service Law Enforcement badge approached. “Officer Greer,” she said and offered her hand to Allie. “Are they all right?”

  “I think so,” Allie replied. “But he’s found a body in the brush.”

  Those close enough to hear her gasped. Mike jogged out of the brush from the opposite side and put a hand to Ryan’s shoulder. “Buddy, are you okay?”

  Again, Ryan nodded and linked his arm with Mike’s. Allie pulled Frankie closer.

  “Are you all right?” he asked Allie quietly.

  “Fine. We’ve just reported it to Officer Greer, here,” she said. Turning to Officer Greer, she offered, “We can take you to her.”

  Officer Greer nodded and held a finger up. She turned to the rangers who had gathered closer and instructed them to corral all the visitors in the covered picnic area closer to the dock and wait there for further instructions. Then she radioed the other law enforcement officers to come and help secure the scene and notify all of the government agencies and departments attached to the park according to protocol. That done, she turned to Allie. “Lead the way.”