Surf, Sand and Skeletons

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Surf, Sand and Skeletons Page 8

by Angela K Ryan


  "I don't know. If you ignore the potential crime scene, the police cars, and the forensic archaeologists just off to the side, this is the perfect end to a first date."

  He smiled gratefully. "At least let me take you home. These guys are going to be a while," he said, "so there's no point in waiting around. It's a painstaking process that involves lots of pictures, slow digging, and careful assessment."

  "Okay, thanks. I should probably get home to feed Ginger, anyway."

  They walked the half-mile back to Zach’s Jeep in relative silence; then he drove her back to Palm Paradise and walked her upstairs.

  "I enjoyed our conversation at lunch," she said. "And parasailing was incredible."

  "Well, I hope you'll let me take you out again. You know, so we can get the ending right."

  Connie laughed. "I'd like that."

  They agreed that he would call her after the grand opening, which was only six days away, to make plans for another date. "I'll be sure to stop by on Saturday, too," he said. Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek. She was glad to have been with Zach when she had her realization about Natasha earlier, not simply because he was a detective, but also because he had a quiet strength that brought her comfort.

  "Thanks. I could use the moral support. And please let me know what happens with the excavation."

  "I will. I'm heading back there now."

  After Zach left, Connie stepped into the shower, hoping that the warm water would wash away her sadness along with the salt and sand, but no such luck.

  Feeling as though she were operating on autopilot, she fed Ginger and took her out. When she got back upstairs, she slipped into some comfy pajamas. The DVR indicated that it was after 6:00, and she realized she hadn't eaten dinner. With no ambition to cook, she heated up frozen meal, which she kept on hand for just such times, and a big mug of herbal tea and curled up on the couch. Although it was seventy-six degrees in the condo, the past couple of hours left her feeling chilled.

  Connie decided not to tell Gallagher or Penelope about what she and Zach had discovered in case it was a false alarm, but she needed to talk to someone, so she grabbed her phone from her purse and called Elyse.

  "So, how was your date?" she answered, without bothering to say hello.

  "Let's just say it was memorable." Connie told Elyse the entire story, starting with her conversation with Gallagher on Friday night, since they hadn't discussed the case at Stephanie's the night before, and ending with her date with Zach and their post-parasailing discovery.

  "Wow! All this happened in two days? There's never a dull moment with you, is there?" Elyse said laughing. "I can't believe you actually figured out where Natasha might be buried while parasailing. That's unreal."

  "Zach dropped me off a few minutes ago and said he was going back to the excavation site. I'm just here, hanging tight and saying a few prayers."

  "So, are you going to see Zach again?"

  "He's going to call me after the grand opening to make plans for second date."

  Elyse let out a squeal. "I knew you two would hit it off."

  "We really do have a lot in common. He seems like a solid guy. And, of course, parasailing was the best. It was such a rush being so high above the Gulf Coast and seeing the whole town."

  "Floating on air with a handsome guy by your side. Sounds like the perfect first date."

  Connie had to agree. "Thank you for encouraging me to go out with him. Your friendship means a lot to me."

  "The feeling is mutual, Connie. I'm so happy to have you in my life, and in Emma's, too."

  ***

  At 9:30, Connie received a text from Zach. Is it too late to stop by?

  Come on over, she replied.

  Within fifteen minutes, Zach was sitting in her living room. She could tell by the solemn expression on his face that the news wasn't good.

  "They found a body, and it appears to be Natasha's."

  Tears stung the back of Connie's eyes. Even though she had never met Natasha, she felt like they were friends. She didn't expect the loss to hit her so personally, but it did.

  After a period of silence, Zach said, "Although there hasn't been time for DNA testing, the body had the same hair as Natasha and was wearing the same clothes that she was described as wearing the night she disappeared. There was also a mini-wallet in her pocket with her driver's license and a few credit cards. It will probably all be on the late news tonight, so I wanted to come by and tell you in person."

  "Are you any closer to discovering who did this?"

  Zach shook his head. "She was shot in the back of the head and then buried. She probably never knew what hit her. It's officially a murder investigation now."

  "Poor Victoria."

  Zach looked at her with a half-smile. "Ironically, it's Victoria who helped us to ID her."

  Connie shot him a confused look.

  "Apparently the baby liked to grab her mother's phone and take pictures, and that's what she did the night of her mother's disappearance. Thanks to Victoria, we have a bunch of pictures of Natasha the night she disappeared, which gave us additional confirmation on her clothes and that she was wearing her hair in a ponytail that night."

  "I hope you'll investigate Jordan Sugrue and his little group. From what Gallagher told me, he is a dangerous man."

  "We'll be exploring every possible lead and going back to talk to people again in light of this new information. Josh is over at Gallagher's right now, letting him and Penelope know, since they were closest to her. He didn't want them hearing about it on the news."

  Despite a long day, by the time Zach left, Connie was so wound up that she couldn't sleep. Rather than lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, she took her laptop over to the couch and did an internet search for "Jordan Sugrue, New Light Community."

  Within seconds his picture popped up, and she was looking him in the eyes through her computer screen. Chills ran down her spine. He was good looking, if you liked men with shoulder-length hair and dark, penetrating eyes. He looked to be in his late thirties, probably about ten years older than Natasha. His hair was combed back, and his expression was confident. He struck Connie as someone who had a lot of charisma. Too bad he insisted on using his God-given gifts for such evil.

  Connie had the urge to close her computer. It was downright creepy having him in her living room, even if it was just his picture. But she resisted and clicked on a few links. She quickly discovered that Jordan was the author of several books. She went over to his website to check out some of them. As she read through the book descriptions, it seemed like he was basically selling the same propaganda packaged in slightly different ways, talking about his philosophy of self-empowerment and inviting people to learn more about his group.

  According to his website, he and his followers gathered regularly at a meeting space in a remote location in Florida's Panhandle, and everyone who "felt the calling" was invited to check them out. Apparently, there were people from around the country who had decided to relocate to be closer to like-minded people.

  Jordan's demeanor reminded her of a sociology professor with boundary issues whom she once had in college. Connie had always avoided him, but she later heard rumors of his inappropriate relationships with students.

  In her explorations, Connie also came across numerous photos of Jordan speaking to large crowds at both indoor and outdoor venues. One photo was taken of Jordan from the back, facing the crowd. His listeners appeared spellbound as he spoke.

  Connie stared for a moment at the faces of two of the women in the front row who looked familiar, but she couldn't place them.

  She could imagine Jordan sweeping in with sweet talk and making Natasha and Gallagher feel special during a vulnerable time in their lives, offering them a place with him and his followers. She grew angry as she thought of this man taking advantage of Natasha to the point where she became pregnant, and then giving her and Gallagher a hard time about leaving.

  Connie's heart ached, and whether
or not Jordan Sugrue was involved in Natasha's murder, this guy had to be stopped.

  Chapter 14

  On Monday morning, although her heart still felt heavy, Connie tried her best to refocus on her preparations for the grand opening, despite everything that happened the night before.

  After a couple of hours of pricing jewelry, Connie and Grace took a mid-morning break and settled onto the sofa, each with cup of steaming tea. The temperature outside was climbing into the eighties, but it still felt soothing to wrap her hands around a warm mug. Apparently, you could take the girl out of the Northeast, but you couldn't take the Northeast out of the girl.

  As they planned the rest of the day, Connie noticed Gallagher and Penelope somberly making their way across the street.

  "Those poor kids," Grace said. "They look devastated." First thing that morning, Connie had filled Grace in on what happened the night before.

  Connie and Grace got up to greet them at the door, and they both gave each of them a long hug.

  "I'm so sorry about what happened to Natasha," Connie said. "I was hoping things would turn out differently."

  Gallagher and Penelope followed Connie to the seating area while Grace poured two more cups of tea with the water in the electric kettle, which was still hot.

  "How are you two doing?" Connie asked. "I know Detective Miller came by the restaurant last night to give you the news."

  Tears streamed down Penelope's face, and Grace fished out a package of tissue from her purse. She handed one to Penelope and placed the package down on the coffee table.

  "Thank you," she managed.

  "The police said that you led them to the body," Gallagher said to Connie. "How on earth did you figure out where she was?"

  Connie pushed her hair out of her eyes. "It was a combination of the details Natasha wrote in her diary about her favorite thinking spot, and the fact that Penelope was babysitting Victoria on the night of Natasha's disappearance so that she could get away and think," Connie said. "Yesterday I went parasailing, and, while looking down onto the Sapphire Beach from so high above, I saw the park, and it just clicked. I happened to be with Detective Zachary Hughes and told him about my suspicions. We went over to check it out, and you know the rest."

  At the mention of Zach's name, Grace gave Connie an inquisitive look. Connie had neglected to mention that she was with Zach on Sunday afternoon when she made her discovery. She wasn't trying to hide anything, but that detail didn't seem important in light of all that had happened.

  Connie looked away to avoid eye contact but knew she would have to tell Grace all about it after Gallagher and Penelope left.

  "As much as I was hoping that it would turn out differently with Natasha, at least this gives us some closure. We now know that she is not alive somewhere trying to escape from kidnappers," Penelope said.

  Gallagher let out a long sigh. "I, for one, will feel better when the killer is behind bars. "At least now it's officially a murder investigation."

  "I was on Jordan Sugrue's website last night trying to get a feel for what he's all about," Connie said. "That man is beyond creepy. I hope the police will be investigating him and his group."

  "So do I," Gallagher said. "Besides Sugrue, Natasha didn't have any enemies that I know of, so I can't imagine anyone else being behind it. The guy's as slick as a snake, so he even could have had someone else in his group do it. He's always testing their loyalty. He'll be hard to pin down."

  "He's obviously a very dangerous and unstable man," Grace said. Then, looking directly at Connie she said, "Promise me you'll let the police handle this one."

  Gallagher shot Connie a questioning glance. "This one?"

  "Connie helped the police solve two murder cases back in January," Grace said, "and nearly got herself killed in the process."

  The corners of Gallagher's mouth turned slightly upward, and he raised his eyebrows at Connie. "I'm impressed."

  "Don't encourage her," Grace said.

  "I know you’re worried, Grace,” Connie said. “I won't do anything foolish."

  Grace’s expression betrayed her skepticism. "Famous last words."

  "Grace is right," Gallagher said. "Sugrue is out of your league. Look at what happened to Natasha."

  After Gallagher and Penelope pulled themselves together, they went back over to The Shack to finishing preparing for the lunch crowd, while Connie filled Grace in on what had been going on with Zach.

  "I always liked that young man," Grace said. "And I think Concetta would like him as well."

  A smile spread across Connie's face. Grace was a living connection to her Aunt Concetta and one of the many reasons Connie treasured her presence in her life.

  "You do know we're both in our mid-thirties, Grace. He's hardly a young man."

  Grace waved Connie off with a chuckle. "It's all relative, sweetie." Grace was in her mid-sixties, about the same age as her Aunt Concetta had been when she passed away last year.

  After Connie filled Grace in on her date with Zach, the women got back to pricing jewelry. A few hours later they stepped back to admire their work.

  "I can't believe Just Jewelry is finally becoming a reality," Connie said. She thought she'd be rushing around with so much more work to get done at this point, so she was pleasantly surprised at the progress as she surveyed the store.

  While Connie was straightening a gold mirror on the wall, the door chimed behind her. She could see from the reflection that it was Mickey Miranda.

  "It looks like you're almost ready for Saturday," he said.

  "Just about," she said, meeting him across the floor. "We just have a little more pricing to do, but we're in good shape."

  "I wish you all the best. I actually stopped by, because I heard on the news that Natasha's body was discovered. I just wanted to make sure you knew."

  "Not only has she heard the news," Grace said, "but she also was the one who lead the police to the body."

  Connie shot Grace a sharp look. She still had her suspicions about Mickey, especially since she learned from Ruby that he and Natasha fought about the rent money, and she didn't want him to know she had been involved in finding the body.

  "What do you mean?" Mickey asked. "How did you know where the body was?"

  "I didn't. I just had a theory based on something Penelope said. It was a lucky guess." She looked directly into Mickey's eyes. "Now that the police know it was murder, I'm sure they'll have the killer behind bars in no time."

  Mickey coughed, and his face turned as white as sea foam. "I'm sure they will. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he managed to say, as he abruptly left the store.

  Connie tried to catch up with him, but he was too far down the street by the time she got to the door.

  "That was strange," Connie said. The dramatic reaction didn't make sense. Mickey and Natasha hadn't been close, so why would he behave like a grieving father? Or was that the sign of a guilty conscience?

  Grace shrugged her shoulders. "You never know with people. Maybe he thought she was still alive."

  "Or maybe he didn't want to talk about it, because he’s guilty and afraid of being caught now that the police are investigating for murder."

  "Let’s hope not,” Grace said. “But whatever the case, the police are handling on it. We have enough work to do in this store without stopping to speculate on Mickey's behavior."

  They continued to work into the early evening. When Grace left for the day, Connie grabbed Ginger's leash to take her for a leisurely walk around town. She had been cooped up all day in the shop and was looking forward to some fresh air.

  As they meandered down various streets, Connie peeked in the shop windows while Ginger sniffed to her heart's content. Window shopping was a welcome distraction, but eventually the events of the previous evening pushed their way back into her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder what happened to poor Natasha.

  Although Jordan was a strong suspect in Connie's mind, there were still other pieces of the puzz
le to consider.

  She still didn't know why Natasha's accounting ledger indicated that she was making a healthy profit, while Tracy maintained that Natasha's Boutique wasn't earning enough money. Connie hadn't ruled out the possibility that Tracy was connected to her murder. Even the fact that Natasha felt the need to keep her own records and hide them under the floorboards seemed to indicate that she had her suspicions, as well.

  And, as much as she hated the idea of her landlord being involved, why did Mickey act so strangely whenever the subject of Natasha came up? Ruby had overheard a conversation where Mickey was angrily yelling at Natasha about being late with the rent. She even said that Mickey clearly wanted her out. But if there was a steady stream of customers in Natasha's shop, as Ruby had indicated, it didn't make sense that Natasha was having money problems.

  However, the more important question was whether her apparent money problems were connected to her death.

  Chapter 15

  Early Tuesday morning, the ringtone of Connie's cell phone woke her from a sound sleep. Blurry eyed, she slapped her hand around her nightstand until she located her phone. The caller ID informed her that it was her landlord.

  She caught a glimpse of the darkness outside through a crack in the blinds. What in the world did Mickey want so early? She balanced herself on one elbow as she held the phone to her ear with her free hand.

  "Hello?"

  "Hi, Connie, Mickey Miranda here."

  "Hi, Mickey. Not everyone's awake at 6:00 AM to go fishing, you know. Is everything okay?"

  "Not exactly. I was passing your shop this morning on my way to the pier, and the window is smashed. It looks like someone broke in. Could you meet me at your shop as soon as possible?"

  The adrenaline pumping through Connie's body woke her up quicker than a shot of espresso. "Be right there," she said, tossing the phone into her purse and pulling on some clothes.

  Connie scratched the top of Ginger's head while she quickly fastened her leash. "Your breakfast will have to wait until we get into the shop."

 

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