Killer Swell

by Jeff Shelby

  She opened the door wider. She was wearing a black bikini top and a bright yellow towel wrapped around her waist, exposing the taut muscles in her stomach.

  She shook her head. “She’s out with our parents. A few last-minute purchases before she leaves, I guess.”

  I felt my shoulders sag at the mention of Kate’s leaving. “Oh.”

  “She told me about last night,” Emily said. “I’m sorry.”

  I shoved my hands deep into my shorts pockets. “Yeah, me, too.”

  She pushed the door open wider. “You wanna come in? I was about to jump in the Jacuzzi. You can hang out till they get back.”

  I stood there feeling dumb, embarrassed. I knew I didn’t have anything good to say to Kate. Whatever came out of my mouth was going to be either nasty or pathetic.

  But I couldn’t make myself leave.

  “Okay,” I said.

  I followed her through the magnificent house that still felt unfamiliar to me, despite the countless hours I’d spent in it. We went downstairs to the enormous game room and out through the floor-to-ceiling sliders.

  The Jacuzzi was at the far end of the pool, encircled by deep blue tiles and a concrete deck. The entire area provided a postcard view to the west, the Pacific Ocean seemingly at your fingertips and miles away at the same time.

  Emily unwrapped her towel, dropped it on the deck, and slipped into the water, backlit by the lights embedded in the walls of the Jacuzzi. Her tan body looked like a shadow against the light blue of the bubbling water. She tilted her head back, submerging her long blond hair, then raised back up, pushing the hair away from her face toward the back of her head.

  “You can come in if you want,” she said, settling on the bench that ran the length of the inside of the tub.

  I stepped out of my sandals and sat down on the ledge, dropping my legs into the warm water. “I’m good here.”

  She smiled. “So. You hate all of us now?”

  I tried to laugh, but it came out as a snort. “No. I don’t hate anybody.”

  “She didn’t have to break up with you.”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I told her not to,” she said, letting her hands rest on top of the water. “You don’t deserve that, Noah. No one does.”

  I nodded, letting my eyes drop, unable to look at her. “Yeah.”

  “Of course, my parents are thrilled,” she said, her tone getting sharper. “Little Kate does the right thing again.”

  I looked back up at her, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She made a face and brought her hands together, a small wave of water splashing upward. “Gotta do what Mommy and Daddy say. Can’t think for ourselves.” She rolled her eyes. “Get chastised for that. Like me.”

  Kate never shared with me much about the family dynamics in her home. I knew that Emily seemed more outgoing than Kate, but I had never seen it as anything more than that. Kate had never intimated that she felt like a favored child in her household, and I had always assumed that both girls were doted upon equally by both parents. Emily might’ve pushed the boundaries of her parents’ patience more—breaking curfew or spending money a little more freely—but it was nothing that I figured earned more than a hard stare from her mother or father.

  But Emily’s tone suggested that maybe it was tougher than I knew to be the eldest Crier daughter.

  “You were Kate’s first mistake,” she said.

  I nodded, again looking away from her, again feeling the sting of the difference between my life and the Criers’.

  Emily came across the water and touched my knee.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t have to say that.”

  “It’s alright,” I mumbled.

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “First my parents, then Kate. I don’t need to be the last member of the family to treat you like shit.”

  I raised my eyes up and saw that she was closer than I expected, staring at me.

  “It’s okay, Emily,” I said. “Really.”

  Her hand squeezed my knee slightly, and I felt the sudden shift in whatever it was that was going on between us. Emily may have been a concerned older sister, but she was acting differently toward me. And I may have been the forlorn rejected boyfriend, but I wasn’t pushing her away.

  “She’s stupid, Noah,” she said, moving closer so that I could feel her body against my leg. “She’s blowing it.”

  The backyard was dark, save for the Jacuzzi lights illuminating us. The water lapped gently against the walls, and I was aware of how loud the stillness was.

  “It’s fine,” I said, not looking away from her.

  She shook her head slowly. “I’m not stupid.”

  She pushed harder against my leg under the water for a moment, then pushed herself out of the water onto the edge of the deck, next to me.

  “Let me show you,” she whispered, leaning into me.

  Her mouth found mine, and I didn’t resist. My stomach twisted with both guilt and excitement. She pulled me down into the water, lifted my shirt over my head. I distinctly remember seeing it float in the water next to us.

  She moved back away from me, and I followed her to the other side of the Jacuzzi. When I reached her, the black bikini top was gone.

  We kissed again, harder this time, some of my anger at Kate pushing me. Groping, grabbing, wet. Kate wouldn’t have done this—she’d have been too worried about her parents finding us. Emily clearly didn’t mind being half-naked with me.

  A noise at the far side of the yard snapped in the air and startled me.

  I pulled away from Emily. “What was that?”

  She wrapped her arms tighter around my neck. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” She twined her legs around mine, pushing hard against me. “Come on, Noah.”

  I knew I needed to leave, to jump out of that water, to walk out of the Crier house and never look back. I was angry at Kate for leaving me behind, for having a better opportunity than I had, for not having told me the truth. I knew having sex with her older sister wasn’t going to solve my problems, alleviate my hurt. But I was also eighteen, pissed off at the world, and in a Jacuzzi with an attractive, willing girl.

  Emily pressed her lips to my ear and whispered, “Come on.”

  I pulled away. “I gotta go.”

  She clung to me. “No you don’t.”

  I untangled myself from her arms, water splashing around us, and pushed up onto the step and out of the Jacuzzi.

  I turned around to her, water dripping off me onto the deck. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  My shirt was to her right in the water. She grabbed it, wadded it up, and flung it at me. “Figures. Whatever.” Her mouth twisted sourly like she’d bit into something awful. “See you later.”

  I caught the wet shirt but didn’t put it on. I turned and walked back through the house, out the front door, and down to my car.

  I don’t know why I left that night. I was furious at Kate, at her parents, and Emily was a willing participant. But something about it didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the fear of being caught. Maybe I just couldn’t get over how I felt about Kate.

  But walking away from Emily felt like the right thing to do that night.

  Eleven years later, though, staying with Emily felt like the only thing to do.

  22

  I woke to a note on Emily’s pillow.

  I’LL CALL YOU. E.

  If I’d been the first to wake, I would’ve left the same note, just with an “N.”

  I was alone in her house, and it just didn’t fit. I wasn’t sure that the previous hours had felt right—except of course for the physical part, which always did—and I needed to breathe.

  I dressed quickly, grabbed the key she’d given me off the coffee table, and dashed out the front door. I knew I probably looked silly jogging to my car, but I didn’t want to run into Emily coming back from wherever she’d gone. I wasn’t prepared for that meeting yet.

  PCH
was empty at eight in the morning, and I made it back to Mission Beach in half an hour. I slipped into my shorts, grabbed the six-foot squash tail from beside the sofa, and walked down to the water, letting the salt and waves fill my senses as I waded in.

  I dropped onto my board and paddled out. I ducked under the small waves that were rolling in, letting the icy shock of the Pacific ride up my spine and into my ears with a roar. The chill of the early morning air hit me as I emerged from the waves, making my body tingle.

  I saw Carter pop up on the horizon just to my right, sliding down the face of a slow four footer that was breaking south toward the jetty. It closed out on both sides of him and he dropped off the board into the water, slapping the surface with his giant palm, frustrated. He saw me maneuvering in his direction and waited for me to reach him.

  “Dude,” he said, wiping the water from his face and jumping back on his board. “Where you been?”

  “You’re out early,” I said, avoiding the question.

  “Break looked good.”

  “Is it?”

  “No. Only been out for twenty minutes or so, but the sets are slow and choppy. Getting tired of waiting for it to get better.”

  We floated for a moment, the water swelling gently beneath us, and I knew we were both waiting for an answer to his question.

  “Emily’s,” I said finally.

  He raised a wet eyebrow. “All night?”

  “All night.”

  He ran a massive hand through his soaked yellow hair, the water running out of it like it was coming off a Lab’s back. “That’s interesting.”

  “She gave me a key.”

  “Jesus. You must rock in the sack.”

  “I do, but it’s not a key to her place. It’s a key that Kate left behind.”

  I nodded toward the horizon. We paddled out beyond the break and spun ourselves around so that we were facing the shore again, hoping that a decent set would roll in behind us.

  “What’s it unlock?” he asked.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Well, good thing you have it then.”

  “I know.”

  We paddled forward a little, trying to find the right spot in the lineup.

  “How did this occur, Lover Boy?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure. We had a few drinks, went back to her place to get the key, I saw pictures of Kate on her wedding day, she cried a little, and then, shazam.”

  “Shazam?”

  “Shazam.”

  Two small swells rolled under us, barely rising above the surface of the ocean. Not even close to something I’d consider paddling in front of.

  “Was this a grief thing for you guys? Or just picking up where you left off in her Jacuzzi way back when?”

  I spun sideways so I was parallel to the beach, eyeing both the shoreline and the open water. “I don’t know. Probably both of those, I guess.”

  “What’d she say about it?”

  “I woke up solo and got the hell out of there.”

  He almost grinned. “Sounds like she was as weirded out about it as you are.”

  I looked at him. “You think I’m weirded out?”

  He glanced back behind him at the waves, ignoring my question. “Finally. Here we go.”

  He was inside, so the first was his. He started paddling, his huge arms propelling him through the water, as the wave picked him up and carried him away.

  I shifted so I was facing the beach again and moved my arms easily through the water. I felt the wall of water sweep in behind me and lift me up. I popped up on the board and my stomach dropped with excitement as I skimmed down the face of the wave, my back to the beach as I moved down the fall line at the bottom of the wave. I shifted my weight and used my right foot to snap the board back into the wave and through the lip at the top, the white water and salt spraying my face. I came back down and zigzagged for another ten feet or so before the wave died and disappeared.

  I dropped to my stomach and swiveled around, heading back out to the break. I felt Carter paddle up on my right.

  “Yeah, I think you’re weirded out about it,” he said.

  I was, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide it. I had spent the night with the older sister of my dead ex-girlfriend, whose murder I was supposed to be investigating. I was very close to becoming Jerry Springer material.

  We paddled back out, side by side.

  “How does this change your assignment?” Carter said.

  “I don’t know that it does.”

  “Just asking.”

  Other than making things awkward between Emily and myself, I didn’t think it would affect looking into Kate’s death. Emily and I both wanted the same thing with that.

  It was what Emily and I wanted with each other that I wasn’t sure of.

  23

  “Let me see the key.”

  An hour later, we were in my living room, both in dry clothes, and Carter was sitting on the couch.

  I grabbed the key off the counter and tossed it to him.

  He held it in his palm and flipped it over a couple of times. “You sure it doesn’t belong to Emily’s heart?”

  “You sure you don’t want me to kick you in the ear?”

  He snorted. “She knows it was Kate’s?”

  “No. She knows Kate left it at her place before she went to the hotel.”

  “Can I hang on to it? I know a guy who might be able to get you something on it.”

  I looked at him. “You know an expert on keys?”

  “Something like that.”

  I shook my head, surprised that I was surprised. “Yeah. Have at it.”

  He closed it in his palm and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Message on the machine for you.”

  “Did you listen to it?”

  “Of course. I had to come in and get something to eat before I hit the water. I saw the blinking light and couldn’t resist.”

  “Then tell me what the message is.”

  He made a face. “But then I’d feel like your secretary or something.”

  “You need to do something to earn your keep.”

  “I don’t live here.”

  “Fooled me.”

  He pointed at the machine. “It’s that cop you used to sleep with.”

  Or, as her colleagues called her, Detective Santangelo.

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  “Wants you to call her.”

  I looked at the phone, hoping it didn’t work. “Right away?”

  “As always.”

  I went over and picked up the phone, frowned when I got a dial tone. I hit the machine, listened to Liz’s very serious voice, and dialed the number she’d left.

  She answered on the first ring. “Santangelo.”

  “Braddock,” I fired back.

  She paused for a moment, maybe trying to figure out who it was or maybe not finding me funny. Hard to tell.

  “I need you to come in,” she said.

  “From out of the rain?”

  She sighed heavily. “Noah. I’m not screwing around. Will you come down?”

  “Depends. What happens if I don’t?”

  “Then I’ll send someone with cuffs to get you.”

  The neighbors had probably grown weary of seeing me with the police, and I didn’t want to rattle them so early in the morning.

  “I’ll come.”

  “Carter with you?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Bring him, too.”

  “I’m not his chaperone,” I told her.

  “No, you’re more like his mother. Bring him.” She hung up.

  “Detective Santangelo wishes to see us,” I told Carter, grabbing my car keys off the table.

  He stood up and stretched like a cat, his hands nearly touching the ceiling. “What if I don’t wish to be seen?”

  “She didn’t give me that option,” I said, heading for the door.

  He groaned. “Well, that’s not fair.”

  “Come on.
You can tell her to her face.”

  He grinned. “Ah. A challenge.”

  24

  San Diego Police headquarters is located in the heart of downtown on Broadway, a couple blocks from the courts and jail and right near the Michael Graves–designed Horton Plaza. San Diegans liked to point out the strange shopping mall as a defining image of the city, but I could never get past the fact that the biggest obstacle in building the structure had been figuring out where to move the homeless folks so they wouldn’t be hovering around a major tourist attraction.

  Square, bland, and unimaginative, headquarters could not look any more governmental. Liz’s office occupied a spot at the end of the hall on the third floor. Her head was down, staring at some paperwork on her desk.

  “We’re looking for the Pirates of the Caribbean,” I said. “Can you point us in the right direction?”

  She glanced up, pulling her dark hair away from her face and over her shoulder. “Shut the door behind you.”

  Her office was small. A perfect square, with cheap cabinets in each of the four corners, her metal desk in the middle so that she could see anyone coming in. No pictures on the walls, only a city-issued calendar, with pictures of the zoo.

  Carter and I sat in the two chairs facing her desk. Her chair looked considerably more comfortable.

  “You need to back off,” she said, her eyes on me.

  I scooted my chair back a couple of inches. “That good enough?”

  Her mouth screwed into a tight circle, a clear sign that whatever patience she had allotted for me was now gone. Same old, same old.

  She unscrewed her mouth. “Noah, Costilla is off-limits to you.”

  “Officially?”

  “Officially, unofficially, on the record, off the record,” she said. “Any way you want it. You go near him again, you’re done.”

  She looked at Carter. “And before you open that sinkhole you call a mouth, that means you, too.”

  Carter stared back at her with no expression.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because.”

  “Gee, Mommy, I need something better than that,” I said.

  She leaned forward on the desk, the silver bracelets on her wrists jingling softly. “Because I’ve got an ID on you both in San Ysidro and I’ll arrest you if you so much as wink at him.”