A Stranger on the Beach

by Michele Campbell

  “There’s a lot of blood in the truck,” Jess said, as gently as possible. “That blood is evidence. They didn’t want to disturb it, so when they didn’t see a gun sitting in the open, they stopped searching.”

  “But if they would just look, I’m sure they could find it right away.”

  “The crime scene team is taking over because they have special training. It does mean a brief delay, but it’s the best thing for the case. We need the blood, Mrs. Stark, because we haven’t been able, we haven’t—”

  Jess looked down at the table, unsure how best to phrase this. But there was no right way.

  “Jason. Jason hasn’t been found. That’s what you mean.”

  “That’s right. I’m sorry. Callahan lawyered up. He wouldn’t say what he did with the body. Based on your statement, I think we should be looking in the cave you mentioned, which is on the same beach where Callahan was arrested. Right now, it’s not accessible due to storm surge. I promise we’ll get inside it as soon as humanly possible. We want to find Jason before the evidence is literally washed away. And I know you want to bring him home.”

  Caroline’s eyes were large, dark blue, and haunted. She was a beautiful woman, though how that would play in court under the circumstances, Jess couldn’t be sure. A jury might hold it against her.

  “He’ll end up at the bottom of the ocean. It’s cold there. So cold,” Caroline said, and looked away.

  “I didn’t mean to suggest that. We don’t know where he is, but wherever he is, we’ll find him. I promise.”

  Caroline took a Kleenex from the box on the table and pressed it to her eyes.

  “Mrs. Stark,” Jess said. “I’m going to check if your sister came to pick you up yet. Apparently, there’s some pretty bad flooding, but hopefully she was able to make it. In the meantime, can I get you something to eat or drink? Oh, and—would you like me to put you in touch with a grief counselor?”

  “I couldn’t possibly eat, and I don’t need a counselor. Lieutenant, if you want to help me, please, keep Aidan in jail. After what he did, I’ll never feel safe if he’s out.”

  “You are safe. Mrs. Stark, your safety is our top priority. You have my word. Aidan Callahan won’t get anywhere near you.”

  Mike Castro knocked on the door of the interview room.

  “Your sister’s here, ma’am. She’s waiting in the lobby.”

  “Let me walk you out,” Jess said. “I’d like to get Lynn’s contact information and set up an interview about that incident where Callahan tried to run her off the road.”

  Jess and Caroline stepped into the hallway, which was much noisier and more crowded than it had been when the interview began hours earlier. The station house now appeared to be functioning as the town’s emergency storm ops center. Firefighters and EMTs mingled with the cops. Several men wearing waders ran back and forth carrying equipment. Everybody looked tired and grim, and some of them were drenched. Jess looked at them and wondered whether her search warrants and labs tests would get the attention they deserved. Working a homicide case in the middle of a natural disaster was not going to be easy.

  Jess took Caroline’s arm and steered her through the crowd. As they reached the end of the hall, a door to their right swung open. An officer stepped out, leading a prisoner in a blue jumpsuit and manacles. Before anyone could react, he’d lunged forward, evading the officer’s grip, and grabbed Caroline fiercely with his manacled hands.

  “Tell me,” he said, his eyes wild, his mouth working furiously. “I have to know. Did I kill Jason? Or did you? Did you kill him, Caroline?”

  The officer threw his arms around Callahan’s waist and wrestled him to the ground. But Callahan’s grip on Caroline was so powerful that she went down with them, screaming.

  “Get him off her!” Jess said, falling to her knees beside them.

  She reached over and tried to pry the prisoner’s hands from her witness’s clothing. But Callahan refused to let go. It was like he had superhuman strength. In the middle of the scrum, he seemed almost calm, looking directly into Caroline’s eyes.

  “I love you. Please, help me. Don’t leave me here,” he said.

  A second officer and then a third piled on. One of them pulled out a Taser and applied it to Callahan’s side. Jess heard a rapid clicking sound and gagged at the burning smell. Callahan convulsed and then slumped to the side, his hands finally releasing Caroline’s clothing. As the officers picked up his limp body and carted him away, Jess reached out to help Caroline to her feet.

  “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  Caroline wouldn’t meet Jess’s eyes.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She straightened her clothes, looking shaken. Her eyes were glazed. The poor woman.

  “You said you would keep me safe,” she said.

  Jess’s heart sank. Caroline was right. Jess had failed. The locals had failed. They’d failed in their first duty. They hadn’t protected her.

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe they let that happen. I’m going to take this case completely away from the local PD. They’re incompetent.”

  “You said I wouldn’t have to see him. That he was locked up, that he could never get to me.”

  “This is inexcusable. I can’t apologize enough. All I can do is promise that it won’t happen again.”

  “I don’t believe you. I don’t trust you anymore. If the police won’t protect me, I’ll have to protect myself,” she said, and turned her back on Jess.

  Jess followed her to the lobby, buzzing around her like a fly, apologizing profusely. A blond woman who was sitting in the visitor area jumped up and came toward them. She held out her arms to Caroline, who walked right past them.

  “Get me out of here,” Caroline said to her sister.

  The star witness marched out of the police station and didn’t look back. Jess had the feeling she might never see her again.

  48

  Two days later, the storm had passed, and the sky was bright and clear. But Jess’s mood was grim as she walked out of the courthouse following Aidan Callahan’s arraignment. She ought to be happy. The judge ordered Callahan held without bail on the murder charge. The forensics team discovered a silver handgun wedged under the seat of Aidan’s truck. (The gun was at the lab now, being tested for fingerprints.) The gun, combined with the blood on Aidan’s clothes, was enough to back up Caroline Stark’s statement. And when the prosecutor brought up the station house attack on Caroline Stark, the judge was convinced. She ordered him held without bail—temporarily. They now had ten days to get an indictment from the grand jury. That was the new deadline. Ten days. If they failed, Callahan would be released.

  The prosecutor was a guy named Vernon Mays, who had blindingly white teeth and a political career in his future, and he didn’t like to lose. This case was generating lurid headlines. BARTENDER KILLED MISTRESS’S HUSBAND, COPS SAY. FATAL ATTRACTION. ONE-NIGHT FLING LEADS TO MURDER. WIFE’S BOY TOY NABBED IN HUSBAND SLAY. And on and on. The press attention made it critical to get this right, Vernon said. He wanted the victim’s body found—yesterday. He wanted a report that said Aidan’s prints were on the gun. He wanted ballistics, and crime scene evidence, and every lab report on his desk by close of business tomorrow, no excuses. And most important of all, he wanted Caroline Stark in his office tomorrow morning, so he could sit her down, assess her credibility, and prepare her to testify before the grand jury.

  There was only one problem. Caroline was missing.

  Jess had been reaching out to Caroline ever since the other night, when Aidan Callahan assaulted her in the station house. Jess wanted not only to apologize, but to offer Caroline official protection. Yes, Aidan was in jail, but he might try to get to her through a third party. Jess had the paperwork in hand to have a security officer assigned to protect Caroline. She’d reached out over and over again, but Caroline wasn’t answering her phone. When she didn’t return numerous texts and voicemails, Jess got worried and went looking. What if somethin
g bad had already happened to her? Jess would be devastated to have a witness killed on her watch, and one she felt such profound sympathy for. Jess checked the beach house, but it was shuttered and cordoned off with crime scene tape. She had a colleague drop by Caroline’s apartment in the city, but the doorman reported she hadn’t been there for days. Finally, she reached out to Caroline’s sister, Lynn, who said that Caroline was safe but didn’t want to talk to the police. Why should she cooperate when they’d done nothing to protect her or her family? When Jess protested that she was calling precisely to offer security, Lynn’s reply was basically too little, too late.

  Jess reported to Vernon Mays that their star witness had gone into hiding, and the prosecutor refused to hear that. He flashed his campaign-poster smile and told Jess to have Caroline in his office bright and early the next morning to start preparing her testimony. If she was unable to accomplish that basic function of an investigating officer, he’d have to consider restaffing. Nothing personal, of course, but this was a high-profile case and he couldn’t tolerate mistakes.

  Hence, her grim mood on this sunny day.

  “Jess, wait up!”

  Mike Castro jogged across the parking lot toward her. He caught up to her by her car.

  “I’m in a hurry,” she said, and opened the car door.

  Mike’s face was flushed and shiny. He looked uncomfortable in his dark courtroom suit.

  “What’s going on? You’re not returning my calls? How are we supposed to work this case together?”

  “We’re not working this case together, Mike. I don’t trust your team.”

  “I noticed that when you wouldn’t let me in the interview room with Caroline Stark.”

  “She didn’t want a man in the room because she was discussing extremely personal matters. And she didn’t want anyone from your department, for good reason. Your chief of police has a blatant conflict of interest.”

  “I hear you, but that has nothing to do with me. I don’t play favorites, and especially not with Aidan Callahan. I’m the guy who’s gonna be the hardest on him, I told you that.”

  “I don’t need you to go hard on Callahan any more than I need you to help him. I want somebody who’ll do the job objectively.”

  “That’s me, swear to God. I’m totally objective.”

  “I’m sorry, Mike. After that fiasco at the station the other night, I can’t work with you. I don’t want your people anywhere near my case.”

  “That wasn’t my fault either. You know it wasn’t. I wasn’t even in the interview room.”

  “I’m not saying it was personally your fault. But it makes the entire Glenhampton PD look incompetent, or like they’re purposely trying to destroy the case. And you have to admit, that’s a possibility.”

  “This was Keystone Kops shit. Incompetence. It wasn’t intentional. Still, it never should’ve happened. Wayne Johnson’s a good officer. The only thing I can think is, because it was Aidan, he let his guard down.”

  “That’s exactly my point. You guys can’t be trusted.”

  “Maybe they can’t, but I can.”

  “It doesn’t matter if it was intentional or not. Either way, it screwed my case.”

  “How did it screw your case? Nobody likes to see a witness attacked. But attacking the witness dirtied up Callahan good. Mays used it to get Callahan remanded. We can use it against him at trial, too.”

  “There may not be a trial. My witness disappeared because of the Glenhampton PD’s incompetence. And I can’t make a murder charge stick without Caroline.”

  “What?”

  “Caroline Stark is in the wind, and there’s no case without her. Do you get it now? She got physically attacked in front of a station full of cops. She’s scared to death of Callahan, and she doesn’t trust you to protect her from him. So, she ran. I don’t blame her. Do you?”

  “You can’t find her? Did you try calling her?”

  Jess slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Duh. Why didn’t I think of that? Call her phone.”

  “I’m sorry. That was dumb.”

  She rolled her eyes and slid into the driver’s seat. He grabbed the door.

  “What have you done to find her so far? I can help.”

  “I called her. I also visited every place she could possibly be. Either nobody’s seen her, or they’re not talking. And I don’t want your help.”

  “Fine, I’ll look for her on my own.”

  “Don’t do that. And don’t you go blabbing to the press, either. I don’t need the whole world knowing my case is crap.”

  “The press? Why would I talk to the press?”

  “Somebody is. Have you seen the headlines? They know all about the affair.”

  “Everybody knows about that. She picked him up on a busy night at the hottest bar in town.”

  “She picked him up?”

  “Yeah. I was there. I saw it happen. So did everyone else. The place was packed.”

  Jess didn’t like the implication that the affair was somehow Caroline’s fault. Like she was some slut or something. Women always got labeled like that, and then their concerns were dismissed.

  She tugged on the door. He wouldn’t let go.

  “Would you let go of my door, please? I have work to do.”

  “Jess, wait. I have a witness for you. An important witness.”

  “The only witness I care about is Caroline Stark.”

  “But this is an eyewitness from the night of the murder.”

  “No way. Who?”

  “The next-door neighbor.”

  “Impossible. I had one of my guys canvass the neighborhood. Nobody was out at the beach that night. They all fled the storm.”

  “Not this lady. She’s the type you’d have to carry out of her house. She stayed, and she’s got an eyewitness account from the night of the murder that you need to hear for yourself.”

  “Wait, is this the old lady who lives next door? The one Caroline Stark told us about in her interview, who called to complain that the alarm was driving her nuts?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I appreciate you telling me, Mike. I’ll go interview her myself.”

  “She won’t talk to you without me.”

  “I’ll show her my badge.”

  “She didn’t open the door for the guy you sent before, did she? I’m telling you, she’s a crank, but I can handle her. She comes in to the station sometimes to file complaints, and I always give her the time of day.”

  “Great, so she’s a nutcase.”

  “Nope. She’s a pain in the butt, but her complaints pan out.”

  “I have to find Caroline.”

  “Interview Mrs. Eberhardt with me. Then I’ll help you find Caroline. Jess, look, I want to nail this asshole worse than you do. I know this town. I can get people to talk who would never talk to you. Give me one more shot. Please? You won’t regret it.”

  Jess hated to admit it, but Mike had a point. Small towns were always tough for the state police to penetrate. The locals stuck together and hated to rat on their own. And Aidan Callahan was more than a local. He was a bartender at one of the most popular joints in town and the brother of the police chief. His family had lived in Glenhampton for generations. What’s more, it was clear to Jess after only a couple of days in this town that the locals despised the weekend people. Caroline and Jason Stark were as weekend as they come—city folks, with a big house on the water and fancy cars, who threw elaborate parties and didn’t invite their neighbors. If you were investigating a crime committed by a local boy against snooty weekenders, it might help to have Mike Castro along to break the ice.

  “All right. But I drive. I do the talking. And at the end of the day, if I’m not impressed by what you brought to the table, you’re out.”

  “Deal,” he said, smiling, and got in her car.

  49

  Francine Eberhardt lived next door to the Starks’ oceanfront mansion. Jess had visited the Stark home the day before to wa
lk through the crime scene with the head of the forensics team. The team was behind schedule, delayed by the storm and short of resources, and they had little of interest to report. As she and Mike drove past on their way to interview the witness, Jess was not happy to see the house shuttered and the police van gone.

  “Where are they?” she said. “Vernon Mays is all over me to get the evidence together. It’s only three o’clock. How do they expect to make this case if they don’t put in the time?”

  Mike was scrolling through his phone. “I got a text. They were called away to the beach. The tide went out, and they made it to that cave. They found something.”

  “Oh, thank God. The body.”

  “Nope.”

  “No? What did they find, then?”

  “A blanket and a man’s jacket, both soaked in blood, wedged behind a large boulder. It’s possible that the body was there and got swept out to sea with a strong storm surge. But it’s not there now.”

  “Crap. This case is getting worse by the minute,” Jess said.

  “They sent the items to the lab to be tested. But they took photos. We’re supposed to show the pictures to Caroline Stark right away and ask if they belonged to her husband.”

  “Too bad we can’t find her. Goddamn it.”

  Jess slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel, which made her hand hurt and didn’t make her mood any brighter. Mike raised an eyebrow.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “This witness better be good. She’s taking time we could be spending looking for Caroline.”

  They pulled into Francine Eberhardt’s driveway. The little house looked like it had taken a serious hit from the storm. The glass was gone from several windows, replaced by cardboard. The shutters hung askew, and most of the trees on the small property were twisted and mangled. An enormous tree branch lay across the small patch of lawn. A white-haired woman in jeans and muddy wellies stood over the downed branch with a chain saw. As Jess watched, she pulled the chain, making an earsplitting sound.

  “That’s her, I take it?” Jess said, raising her voice to be heard over the ruckus.