Red Surf: Leah Ryan Thrillers (The Leah Ryan Thrillers Book 4)

by Tracy Sharp

  “So they were probably pretty touchy-feely,” Jackson said.

  “Maybe the trigger is affectionate young couples. Maybe this guy wants the girl for himself.” I dug my cell out of my jeans pocket and searched for Nina Dursh’s cell number. I tapped out a text to her. “I’m texting Nina to ask her friends to send any pics they might’ve taken on the day Shannon vanished.”

  “Is this what passes for a crush with this guy?” Jackson said.

  “He’s got a hell of a way of showing it,” Chris said.

  “And an apparently insatiable appetite.” I tapped out another text to Nina asking her to meet Jackson and me.

  Megan came walking at a fast clip toward us, a cell phone held in her plastic gloved hand. “Detective, this was in the deceased’s pocket.”

  Chris still had his plastic gloves on. He woke the screen on the phone. “One bar left. Maybe he sent a text before he was murdered.” He looked closely at the screen. “Look at this. He took this picture last night. Look at his background pic.” He held the phone out for Jackson and me to see.

  It was a selfie taken of the two of them. The couple smiled dreamily at the camera.

  Around Lisa’s neck was a shark’s tooth hanging on a thin leather strip.

  ***

  Nina Dursh, Jenna Shaw and Carrie Leeman, Shannon’s best friends, waited for us on the patio of The Happy Crab. A pitcher of iced tea with lemon slices sat on the center of the table, and they all played lazily with their straws.

  “Hi, ladies,” I said. “Thanks for meeting us.”

  “No problem,” Nina said.

  “We want to help,” Jenna said. “We’re pretty freaked about what’s happening. That other girl washing up on the beach...”

  Carrie sipped her iced tea and looked nervous. Her expression a cross between fear and nausea. She was scared.

  They’d saved two seats for us and we both sat down. Two empty glasses sat in front of our chairs.

  “We didn’t know what you’d like, but you’re welcome to our iced tea,” Jenna said.

  “Thanks.” Jackson poured iced tea into my glass, then his. “It’s getting hot here. Humid around these parts.”

  “Yeah, but with the ocean breeze it isn’t too bad. That’s why we spend so much time on the beach,” Nina said.

  “Carrie, I like your shoes,” I said, pointing to her neon green flip-flops. I hoped to get her to talk. Feel her out. Was she just freaked about the murders, as her friends were or was there something else bugging her? “Funky.”

  She offered a sickly smile. “Thanks.”

  When she didn’t offer anything more, I asked her, “Where did you get them?”

  “Shannon and I got them at one of the gift shops along the strip. Can’t remember which. We shopped a lot that day. She spotted them first. Hers are pink.” She looked down. “Were.”

  “That must’ve been a good day,” Jackson said. “Bet you had fun.”

  “We always did.” Carrie played with the thin leather strip around her neck. She lifted the small object hanging on it out from beneath her tank top.

  For a moment I couldn’t speak. I stared at it when she let it fall onto her chest, her fingers gently twirling it this way and that.

  It was a shark’s tooth.

  ***

  The Cook’s living room was large and tastefully decorated. They weren’t showy people, but they had money. Photos of Shannon at various stages of her short life adorned the walls. One spectacular photo, in black and white, took up a large part of one wall. It was a picture of Shannon surfing, a wide smile across her face, her arms out as she balanced on a surfboard.

  “Shannon’s friends had that photo made up,” Mrs. Cook said. “They loved her.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  “She was a lovely girl, Mrs. Cook. We’re working hard to find out who took her from you.” Jackson leaned forward, clasping his hands, his forearms resting on the tops of his thighs.

  “Please, find him,” Mrs. Cook said. “That there’s been another... It’s terrible what happened to that girl. Ms. Ryan, I can’t believe you found another girl. It’s almost like he’s hoping you’ll find them.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” I lifted the necklace from a plastic storage bag I’d gotten from the kitchen of The Happy Crab. It was huge, but it would do the job until I could get it to Chris. “Mrs. Cook, did Shannon get one of these before she vanished?”

  Mrs. Cook reached out for the bag and held it up. “Yes. She did. She said it appeared in her bag the day before she disappeared. She thought someone dropped it in there while she was surfing. Her bag was lying on the beach at the time.”

  Carrie’s had been draped over her side mirror the night of the bonfire. There had been so many people around, she hadn’t noticed who had been coming from and going to the parking area.

  Mrs. Cook stood up. “I think it’s in her room.”

  I stood. “Actually, would you mind if we see her room?”

  “No. Not at all. I’ll show you where it is.”

  Jackson and I followed her up a carpeted flight of stairs and down a hall. Several photo collages hung on the walls. We saw family members and Shannon at various stages of her life. I have pictures of my little sister before she was abducted. The thing about taking photos is that you never know if those pictures will be some of the last ever taken of someone you love before they are gone forever.

  Mrs. Cook stopped in front of a room and gestured with her hand for us to enter. “Her room is exactly the same as she left it. She usually kept the necklace hanging there on the top left corner of her dresser mirror.” She pointed to the dresser, then frowned. “It’s not there.”

  Then her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no. She might’ve put the necklace in a pocket before she went surfing. She never wore any jewelry because jewelry and watches attract sharks. They like shiny things. The necklace had a silver clasp.”

  “Do you know which pocket she would’ve put it in?” Jackson asked her.

  “It was a pair of jeans she was wearing that morning. I washed them. Any prints on the necklace would’ve been washed away. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Jackson said. “We have two other shark’s tooth necklaces to examine for prints. But it would be good to have it as evidence.”

  Mrs. Cook’s brow furrowed. “Two other necklaces?”

  “One of Shannon’s friends, Carrie, was wearing one today. I also got one, and the girl I found on the beach was wearing one in a cell phone picture, but it hasn’t been found yet.” I took a few steps into Shannon’s room.

  “You got one, Ms. Ryan?” Mrs. Cook asked me. “And Carrie?”

  I turned to her, trying to look casual. “Yeah. Carrie got one. She’s not surfing or going anywhere on her own until whoever did this to your daughter is found.”

  “What about you? Mr. Quick, I hope you’re keeping a good eye on Ms. Ryan.”

  “Oh, I am. No small task, either.” Jackson winked at Mrs. Cook.

  She didn’t smile. “Ms. Ryan. You’d better be careful.”

  ***

  We dropped Shannon’s freshly washed shark’s tooth necklace into the evidence bag with Carrie’s, and dropped it off at the police station.

  “Would you see that Detective McCool gets this?” I said to officer at the counter.

  “Sure,” he said. He was older, with an apple shape and a sunny smile. “You’re that private detective who found both of the girls. If I was a suspicious man, I’d think you had something to do with this nastiness going on here in Bass Bay.” He laughed heartily at his own joke.

  I smiled. “I would, too, if I were you.”

  “Well, all right then,” he said. “We’ll be watching you.”

  “Awesome.” I grinned and headed back out to the truck. When I sat back in the passenger seat, I shook my head. “Strange folk around these parts.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Do you think it’s just the whole small town thing?�
�

  Jackson shrugged. “Dunno. Hard telling.” He gave me a sideways look. “So, is your date with Detective McCool still on?”

  “As far as I know. He hasn’t cancelled.”

  “Well, why would he let a little thing, like a dead body, get in the way of your dinner cruise plans?”

  “Jackson Quick,” I said, my voice sly. “You are jealous, aren’t you?”

  He tilted his head. Held his thumb and index fingers about an inch apart. “Little bit. But the way I figure it, I get to save your ass for as long as we do this job. He probably won’t last much longer than it takes to catch this loony tune. If that.”

  “You’re awfully sure of yourself. Besides, it’s only dinner for God’s sake. He’s not popping the question.” The very idea made sweat bead along my forehead, my back grow damp and my hands clammy. “Let’s stop talking about this, shall we? I’m getting the willies.”

  Jackson tilted his head back and laughed.

  ***

  “What do you think?” I stepped out on the patio. Did a slow spin.

  Jackson looked confused. “Leah, you’re wearing what you normally wear, jeans and a tank top.”

  “Yes, but these are my new jeans.” I turned around, giving him a view of my bottom.

  “Nice.”

  “That’s what I thought. And, I’m wearing sandals instead of boots. See? And I painted my toe nails, too, to be a little fancy.” I wiggled my toes.

  He looked down at my toes. Lifted a brow. “Black nail polish?”

  I sighed. “No. Black sparkly nail polish. There’s a difference.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “And look at these earrings. Aren’t they bitchin’?” I pulled my hair away from an ear.

  He leaned forward, squinted at my earlobe. “Fish skeletons. Those actually are cute.”

  “I know! Right?”

  “Boy, you really like this guy, don’t you?” Jackson said, his face serious.

  “I do. So far.” I rolled my eyes. “I know. I never put this much thought into dates. Maybe I’ve had too much sun.” I frowned. “Do you think I’ve had too much sun? Maybe I’m not myself.”

  “Oh, you’re yourself.” Jackson leaned back, tilting his head in Jackson style. “You’re just a giddy, girlish version of yourself. I’m happy for you, Leah. Maybe he’s the one.”

  It was my turn to tilt my head. “Stop. Seriously. It’s just dinner.”

  Jackson lifted a hand, palm up. “Okay. Just have fun.”

  I hesitated. Squinted my eyes at him. “Thanks.”

  The sound of an approaching engine made me turn to look as Chris’ black mustang purred up the driveway. It was a nice car. Older version. Seventies.

  I could already see his half smile as he stopped the car. He was good looking, and my body reacted to him pretty strongly. He made me feel shy, and my heart rate picked up speed as he climbed out of the car. My head felt a little dizzy as I caught the scent of his fresh soap and water smell.

  “You look great,” he said.

  “Thanks. So do you.” Which was true. He wore jeans, like me, and a grey athletic t-shirt, which he somehow made look dressy. I don’t know how he did it, except that it hung on him perfectly and accentuated the sculpted muscles beneath it.

  “Jackson.” He offered Jax his hand.

  “Chris,” Jackson said, accepting it, and I wondered how tight a grip he was using to shake Chris’ hand.

  “I won’t have her back too late.” He grinned at Jackson.

  Jackson gave a tight smile back. “She’s a big girl.”

  I crossed my arms. “She’s standing right here, fellas, and she stays out as late as she likes. She has no curfew.”

  “Right,” Chris said. “Sorry. Just trying to be funny. It’s never really been my strong point.”

  Jackson opened his mouth to retort but I cut him off with a wave. “Bye, Jax.”

  “Bye.” He blinked his eyes hard. It was a nervous tick I’d seen once or twice before.

  I spun on my new black sandals and headed down the stairs and to the mustang, leaving Jackson looking out at the breakers.

  ***

  Before stepping onto the boat, I felt a strange sense of foreboding move through me. The idea of being out on the ocean, completely at the mercy of a boat, scared the crap out of me. If anything should happen to the boat, I might find myself treading water, waiting for a shark to swim up from the deep to see what’s up.

  But once out on the water, I relaxed. The view of the ocean was magnificent, and the dinner buffet offered everything but the kitchen sink. And there was chocolate cake. Heavenly, rich, moist chocolate cake.

  I happily sipped a glass of wine, leaning over the railing, looking out at the horizon. A pair of dolphins swam alongside the boat for a long time, jumping out of the water over and over.

  I couldn’t get the smile off my face. “Looks like they’re trying to impress us.”

  “They are. The dolphins around here see all kinds of tourist boats. They’re used to people ooohing and aaahhhing over them. They love the attention.” Chris pointed farther out. “Look. There’s a whale.”

  I looked toward the direction he pointed in time to see a spray of water shoot out of the sea. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

  The boat slowed to a crawl as it approached a lighthouse sitting on a small island. Several shiny, black, harbor seals lounged on the rocks. A few of the seals splashed into the water and swam over toward the boat.

  I watched as they wiggled around in the water, their large black eyes regarding us openly. “Those seals are the cutest things I think I’ve ever seen.”

  “They’re very friendly. People often throw food overboard. They aren’t supposed to. Sometimes people visit the area just to throw fish into the water for them. They’re also curious,” Chris said. “Seals have been known to climb up onto boats and canoes.”

  “I’ve seen YouTube videos of seals climbing up and cuddling with people,” I said.

  “They do. Unless they feel threatened for their pups. Then you might see another side to them. But people aren’t supposed to get that close to them. Nobody is allowed on that island. The state doesn’t want the seals disturbed or jeopardized.”

  “I can see that.” I watched as a seal dove down into the water, coming up a moment later with a fish wiggling in its mouth. “They live on that little island year round?”

  “Yeah. That lighthouse is known as Spooky Sally. She’s on the auction block. Used to belong to the coast guard, but the state deemed it to be unnecessary. There isn’t much need for lighthouses anymore, with today’s technology.” Chris continued. “The location was too treacherous for the coast guard members who took turns keeping the lighthouse.”

  “Treacherous?”

  “Bringing back food and other necessities was dangerous because of where it’s set. It’s right on the edge of that outcropping. During bad weather, it was almost impossible to get to it. Many boats ended up damaged by the rocks, and some sank. That lighthouse claimed several casualties.”

  “That’s creepy.” I watched as seals lounged on the rocks and pier around the lighthouse. “That’s why they named her Spooky Sally.”

  “Exactly. People think she’s haunted, by all the people who died trying to get to her.”

  “Is she up for auction to the public?” Living in the lighthouse would be cool. Despite her history. Maybe even because of her history.

  “The auction is open to the public. Whoever gets her will have to do a lot of renovation. It would be worth it. But they’d be stuck there for a while during bad weather. Too dangerous to try to get off and on that tiny island.”

  I watched as Sally slowly grew farther and farther away. The seals began turning away from the boat and headed back toward her, swimming quickly, tiny black heads dipping beneath the waves, and then bobbing back up in the water.

  “There’s a shark. Looks like a thresher,” Chris said, pointing.

  I followed his finger and saw a
dorsal fin, then a grey shape moving alongside the boat. Another dorsal appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Then another.

  “That’s a Great White,” Chris said. “Fifteen footer.”

  “Is this shark territory because of the seals?”

  Chris nodded. “Wherever you see a lot of seals, the sharks aren’t far behind. They go where the food is.”

  The sharks stayed close to the boat. Several more emerged from the depths. I felt my skin crawl. The fear was deep and innate, coming from some primitive part of my brain that reacted to predators being near. “Why are there so many all of a sudden? And why are they so interested in the boat?”

  “There are other tourist boats that come out specifically to look at the sharks. There are also companies that do shark dives. They drop chum into the water to attract them. The fish blood brings them up pretty quickly. So now, when they hear a boat engine, especially one this big, they come up for treats.”

  “Shark dives?” I said. “That sounds pretty dangerous. Suicidal, even.”

  “They put people in a shark cage so they can view the sharks while inside the safety of the cage.” Chris shrugged. “The divers who actually swim with sharks are experts. They apparently know when it’s safe to go into the water with sharks and when it isn’t. They say they know how to read the shark’s body language.” His tone was skeptical.

  “You not buying it?” I asked him.

  “Sharks are wild animals. No one can predict what they will or will not do. I don’t care how educated on sharks you are.”

  A flash of the strange grin of the shark I’d encountered floated into my mind. My heart had been beating so hard I’d thought it was going to pound right out of my chest. I consider myself a thrill seeker, but even I wasn’t that brave. I felt gooseflesh break out all over my body thinking of it. “So what about now? What happens when a boat comes by and they don’t get any treats? Like, say, now.”

  “They go after the seals.”

  I began to lean forward, over the railing, to look at the seals as they made their way back to the lighthouse.