"So…are you going to give me the silent treatment for the rest of the summer or what?"
Granddad flicked her a surprised look. "Ack, dumplin'. I'm sorry. Your Gran was right. I was being a stubborn, grumpy old fool. But it's only because I care about you."
Freesia put her hand on top of his. "I know. I really do. I just don't understand why you were so upset when I said I wanted to go. I'm not a kid anymore. I can handle it."
"I know you aren't a kid and I forget that some days. You're just like your mom was. Always wanting to know about things, even if they were upsetting. She used to say it was better to know all the crap so you're ready for it rather than being surprised. She'd say, 'When you understand something, you know how to deal with it properly.'" Granddad wiped his eyes on his sleeve.
Freesia crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah. She used to say that to me too. She said it when I didn't understand what was going on with Sage. And when she told me about Dad. I liked that she didn't mess around, you know? She just said things the way they were."
A silence filled the car. The crunching of the gravel beneath the car stopped as Granddad turned onto the highway. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Freesia plunked her head back into the headrest and stared out the window.
Oh, Mom. Please help us find you.
Granddad cleared his throat, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Uh, look, Freesy. There's something I should tell you before we get there." He paused, his finger drumming increasing in speed. "Detective Cuaco—Barry—told me that he doesn't think your mom was kidnapped. He thinks that someone might have harmed her."
His words hit her like a punch in her gut. "Harmed her?"
"They think she's been killed, Freesy."
Freesia felt like she was going to puke.
"See, the truth of it is we all thought someone snatched her up. She came up here a couple of weeks after your dad died to try and get a handle on a few things. But she never came back. We didn't find many clues for the longest time. Soon after the search started, Barry and some of his boys from the big city found your mom's car a few miles up the highway."
He put his elbow up on the window and rested his forehead in his hand. "It was rolled over in the ditch with brush thrown over it. He said there was blood all over the driver's side door and window and it turned out to be your mom's. Nothing else was found except a partial fingerprint on one of the back doors that they couldn't identify. Weirdest thing was, they found your mom's purse in the backseat too. Nothing was taken. Not her cell phone or her wallet. Nothing."
Freesia shook her head, wondering if she was in an episode of CSI. "Mom never went anywhere without her wallet. Ever. I mean, she was crazy about that. She always checked three or four times to make sure she still had it."
"Don't I know it. Your gran is the exact same way. Anyway, after they found the car, the detective asked a big group of us to do one of those perimeter searches. You know, where small groups of us were spread out a few feet apart? We found your mom's wedding ring a few feet away from her car. And this." He reached a hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a gold chain with a small locket.
Freesia's heart lurched as she took the chain from Granddad and cupped it in her hands. She ran her thumb over the initials engraved on the front. T.W-F. Tamara Worth-Freisen. She slid her thumb over to the side and pushed on the tiny button that sprung open the locket. Inside was a picture of Freesia and Sage.
They'd gotten the locket for her last birthday. It was all a big secret. They'd gotten their pictures taken and found just the right locket to put it in. Their mom never took it off.
"The chain is broken," Freesia said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I know. The detective thinks it was yanked off her neck, either on purpose or by accident during a struggle, because of how the chain is broken. I couldn't tell the difference either way."
"She kept her wedding ring on this necklace too," Freesia said. "Mom said it was so she could keep all of us close to her heart no matter where she was." Rage rumbled in her belly. "Who would do this? Everyone loved her. She did all of these amazing things for people around town. Why would someone want to kill her?"
"I don't know, dumplin'. I wish I did. What I wouldn't give to have my hands around that sick person's neck." Granddad let out a tired sigh. "As Gran always says, 'Two wrongs don't make a right.' If they don't find anything over the summer, love, they're going to call off the community search and hand the case over to the provincial authorities. In a way that would be good because we'd have a more powerful team helping us. But we wouldn't have the same input as we do now—"
"And Mom's case could get lost in the shuffle of all the other missing-person cases."
Granddad nodded.
"Well, that can't happen." Freesia stared at the locket. "Mom is out there somewhere, Granddad. It's like I can still feel her and she's trying to reach out to us or something. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. And no matter what, I'm going to figure out what happened to her."
Granddad turned the car into the crowded parking lot. "There is one other thing, Freesia. They looked into your mom's cell phone history, bank history and all that legal mumbo-jumbo. Haven't heard what they found out yet, but the detective is looking into the possibility that, well, your mom was seeing someone."
Freesia's head spun so fast it took her eyes a second to adjust. "What? They think Mom was seeing someone a month after Dad died? That's crazy!"
"I know. But they have to eliminate these things, you know? No matter how crazy it sounds."
This is getting worse and worse. Maybe I'm not ready to hear everything.
The meeting was held in the town's community center. It used to be a house, but the community gutted it out and turned it into a hall with a large meeting area that was also used as an indoor gym for young people, as well as for plays, parties and dances. They sometimes showed movies there and a few couples had used it as a wedding reception hall. It also had a small kitchen and an office area.
When Freesia and Granddad arrived, the center was almost packed to standing room only. They found two chairs that had been saved for them at the front.
After some painful idle chitchat, which Freesia hated with a passion, the crowd was cued to quiet down as Detective Cuaco took the microphone set up in front of the room. He cleared his throat and tapped on the microphone head, the sound echoing around the room.
"Uh, good evening. We appreciate you taking a bit of time out of your summer night to join us here. It won't take long. I only have a few things to let you know about. After that, the floor can be open for questions or concerns. After that, we can go over to the table set up by the kitchen, where some of the lovely ladies in town have put out a nice dessert spread. Sound good?"
Everyone looked around, nodding. Freesia blew out a long breath. Why are adults always so long-winded?
Granddad, who must have detected her irritation, put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. She also wished adults didn't think she always needed comfort. Or hugs.
"Great. Okay, let's get straight to it. First, as I'm sure some of you already know, we have a feeling that this case isn't a simple kidnapping as we initially thought. We are fearful of the possibility of…foul play and possibly murder."
The crowd rumbled. A few gasps were released. Some others groaned.
"But in order to get the help we need, you know, to call in the big guns from the provincial authorities, we need a lot more proof. I guess the bloody car and Tamara's purse weren't enough for our bigwigs in the provincial prosecutor's office."
Someone coughed in the back of the room as the detective gulped down some water in a glass left for him on the podium. It took every restraint inside of Freesia not to jump up, grab the mic and take over the meeting.
We don't need some stupid speech. Just get to the point. Tell people to pull their heads out and find my mom.
"Point blank, we need you all more than ever. We're investigating informati
on left on Tamara's cell phone and requested information from her bank and other credit accounts, but we need some solid leads. So, we're going to start from scratch with our searches, talk to everyone who might know something, even the tourists, put up more posters…the whole shebang. And the Freisen family has generously increased the reward amount to $50,000 for any tips that lead us to an arrest or resolution for this crime. That has to bring someone out, we hope."
Freesia glanced at Granddad, who moved his hand from her shoulder to the back of her chair. He suddenly looked uncomfortable with the mention of the money. She was still blown away that there wasn't some selfish, money-hungry person out there willing to come forward with something. For $50,000, she'd nark on almost anyone.
"All right, well, that's it for me. Any questions or concerns from anyone?"
The room remained silent. Folks looking at each other. A chair scraped against the floor near the back on the right. Frank stood up, weaving from side to side. The crowd turned to him. Rick tried getting his dad to sit down, but Frank pushed his arm away, almost stumbling over. "Yeah, I have something to say."
Detective Cuaco heaved a deep sigh and waved in Frank's direction. "Yes, Frank?"
Rick sat back in his seat, putting his hand over his mouth, sliding down in his chair as his father spouted off. "What is wrong with all of you? Hasn't this family, and those of us who care about them, gone through enough? This whole town has become a tourist place, not for the fishing and boating, but for the poor family woman who went missing. I mean no disrespect to you, George, or your beautiful family, but can't we just let it all go?"
That was it. Freesia had had it. "No! We can't just let it all go. This is my mother we're talking about. We aren't going to give up until we've looked everywhere, talked to everyone and done everything we can. You're acting like you don't give a crap about her. Or us. Or maybe you're hiding something."
Frank's face crimsoned. He licked his lips and rubbed his face with his palm. "I'm not hiding nothing. We just care about you guys, is all. I'm trying to make sure Tamara is remembered the way she should be. I'm just trying to end the pain."
"For who?" Freesia's heart pounded. "You have no idea what it's like for us. Nobody does. It's just me and Sage. Our Dad is gone. Nobody knows where our mom is. Sage needs so much extra help. Who are you trying to end the pain for? It's more painful not knowing where Mom is or what happened to her than having everyone out there helping us find her."
"Shut up and sit your butt back down, Frank," Bob said from the other side of the room. "Your opinion isn't welcome when it's soaked with beer. Have some coffee or get your boy to take you on home. We all care, but you're not helping. Not this way."
The room fell deathly silent—until the fridge in the kitchen kicked in.
Frank looked around, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I…" He shrugged and plunked back down in his chair.
"Alrighty," Detective Cuaco said. "If that's all for now, we have a sign-up sheet at the door for various volunteer positions, including the different search groups we'll have going on. You all know how to get a hold of me for questions, concerns or information. And I'll be going around asking townsfolk some questions based on new evidence we've turned up, so don't be surprised to see me at your door. Now let's get some of that scrumptious grub by the kitchen."
The room joined in a weak applause. After a few minutes folks slowly made their way to the dessert table.
"I'll get you some treats, Freesia," Granddad offered.
Seething, Freesia remained in her seat. Stupid Frank and his drunken rant.
Suddenly, she felt warmth beside her.
Rick sat down so close to her that their thighs touched. "I am so sorry about my dad. I guess he drank one too many at supper. I tried talking him out of coming, but I couldn't stop him."
You should have tried harder.
But it wasn't Rick's fault that his dad was acting like a jerk.
"Whatever. I'm just glad things will keep going ahead for now."
"I'm volunteering to help," he said, smiling. "Anything I can do, okay?"
Her anger melted away. "Thanks."
Frank stumbled over a metal chair, his cursing echoing around the room. Rick breathed out sharply and rolled his eyes. "I gotta get my dad out of here before they throw him into the drunk tank. I wish I knew what was going on with him lately." He stared at his dad and shook his head. "Anyway, coming to the beach tomorrow?"
Her heart ached for him. His situation sucked right now too.
"Yeah. I promised Sage. We'll be there late morning until after lunch. She might bug you for a boat ride."
He laughed. "You tell her that's a date. As long as her big sister comes too." He patted her leg and then jogged over to his dad.
Goose bumps exploded all over her body. God, he's hot. He probably doesn't even think of me that way. Maybe, just maybe…
Her thoughts returned to the meeting. She saw Granddad talking to Detective Cuaco, Bob and Len Patterson. She narrowed her eyes at the group of men. In that moment, she made a promise to her sister, to God and to her mother that she'd do whatever it took to find out what happened. No holds barred.
Whatever it takes, I'll find the truth.
Chapter Ten
Going to the beach for a few hours required even more preparation than going down to the dock for the day. That's because they had to think of all the things they might need, on top of all the things they knew they'd need, since running up to the cabin to grab something they'd forgotten was out of the question.
"Great balls of fire," Granddad roared when Freesia gave him her backpack. "We're going up the road for a couple of hours, not traveling abroad for a month. There's only so much room in this trunk. I think you ladies need to go to a workshop called, 'Learning to Travel Light.'"
Freesia shot him a deadpan stare. "Really, Granddad? This diva thing you have going on? So not you. Besides, it isn't that much. Gran told each of us to pack a bag with a change of clothes. She has one with the towels, sunscreen and all that junk. Of course, she brings an extra one we put dirty clothes in and a cooler with lunch and snacks—"
Granddad put his hands up in the air. "All right, all right. Thank you for showing me the error of my ways, young lady. I don't know how I could have thought we were over-packing."
Freesia burst out laughing and playfully punched him in the arm. Just then, Gran came out the back door carrying the large food cooler and the smaller one for drinks balanced under her chin. Behind her came Sage, lugging her backpack of sensory tools, Lamby and her keyboard sticking out the top.
Granddad slapped his forehead with his palm. "Holy Hannah."
He and Freesia doubled over with laughter.
Sage tilted her head and crinkled up her nose while Gran just rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know what you both are laughing at. Shut up and help an old lady with her load. After that you can get in there and lock up behind us, you old goat."
Rudy pawed at the screen door as Granddad went to close the door. "Sorry, old girl. But you have to stay here and guard the house. No doggies allowed at the beach."
Rudy snorted, leaving a wet spot on the screen, and retreated into the cabin.
"Great, I'm even getting attitude from the dog," Granddad mumbled as he pushed the lock button on the doorknob and pulled it closed.
Freesia was still laughing as she climbed into her spot in the backseat. She loved how the most normal things always seemed to turn out so much fun with her family. Watching them now, no one would ever guess all the crap they'd had to deal with the last few months.
After spending ten minutes finding the perfect spot on the beach and another fifteen minutes unloading the trunk, Freesia, Sage and their grandparents absorbed themselves in their favorite beach activities. Gran read a cheesy romance novel, Granddad lay under the umbrella with his hat over his face and Sage sat on a towel digging in the sand. It amazed Freesia how a girl who hated being dirty could find so much relaxation with diggi
ng and burying her body in the sand. Of course, she freaked out all the way home if there was even one tiny grain of sand in her shoes or clothes.
Freesia chewed the inside of her cheek, darting her eyes around the beach. She wondered where Mizu was or if she'd even bother showing up.
Knowing her, she's probably doing some cloak-and-dagger thing behind a tree or pile of rocks or something. Instinctively she turned around to scan the parking lot railing.
Nothing.
She blew out sharply and drummed her hands on her knees.
"Something bothering you, Freesy?" Gran asked, looking over the top of her sunglasses.
"No. Why?"
"Because you're more restless than a poodle during a thunderstorm. And I can't read with all that fussing, huffing and puffing. Why don't you walk on down to the Tiki and get us all some Popsicles. Granddad? Give her some money, will you?"
Granddad held up a five-dollar bill. "That's me—chauffeur, packer, mover, general-grunt guy and instant teller. Get me a root beer one, if you don't mind."
Gran shoved her sunglasses up her nose and shook her head. "You forgot want-to-be comedian, dear."
"Everyone's a critic." Granddad folded his hands on his chest. "You'd better be nice to me or I won't let you manage my one-man comedy road tour."
Gran clicked her tongue and flipped her hand in his direction.
Freesia repressed a giggle. She grabbed the bill and crouched down to Sage. "I'm going to the Tiki. You wanna come?"
Sage kept digging. She was so far down, water flooded the bottom of her hole.
"Sagey, did you hear me?" Freesia tried again. "Do you want to come with me to get Popsicles?"
Sage shook her head. 'Cherry,' she signed.
Freesia decided not to push her to speak.
She started walking along the sand, weaving around all the sun worshippers and kids building sand castles, but she was irritated with not having a more direct route. Plus, she'd forgotten her flip-flops and the sand was burning her feet.
She headed toward the edge of the shoreline. She loved how the water ebbed up the shore, splashing over her feet. And she loved how the wet sand squished under her feet and between her toes. Her mom always loved that too. They used to walk for miles together down the beach, running to and away from the waves, splashing each other, laughing.
Dark Water Page 6
