Homecoming By The Sea

by Kathi Daley

  “She said she’ll be on the next flight north. She’ll fly into Portland and rent a car. Should we meet this evening?”

  I made a quick decision. “We should. I’m staying at the house. Why don’t you and Mac come over when she gets here?”

  “I’ll bring pizza.” Trevor hugged me again. “I really can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

  Trevor and I took a few minutes to catch up before the lunch crowd began to arrive. I didn’t need pizza for lunch if we were having it for dinner, and Alyson didn’t argue. After saying a temporary good-bye to Trevor, I left the pizza parlor and went out to the car.

  “I should go to the grocery store. I know Trevor said he’d bring pizza, but that won’t fill him up for very long.”

  “I’ve really missed him,” Alyson said.

  “Yeah.” I choked back a tear. “Me too.”

  “He looked good. Really good.”

  “He did,” I agreed.

  “He still has the same boyish good looks, but he’s filled out in a very nice way. He’s quite the babe, don’t you think?” Alyson asked.

  I adjusted my visor. “I guess. I didn’t really notice.”

  “Liar. I’m you, remember. If my heart beat just a tiny bit faster when he kissed us good-bye, yours did too.”

  “I have a boyfriend back in New York,” I reminded ghost me.

  “Yes, you have a boyfriend back in New York. I’m on the market.”

  I laughed out loud. “Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?”

  Alyson giggled. “Yeah. I’m having fun too.”

  I turned up the music and rolled down the windows. I never drove with the windows down back home. In fact, this might very well be the first time the windows had been down on this car, which I’d only had a few months.

  “Do you think we should go talk to Woody now?” Alyson asked.

  “It’ll be a good idea to find out what he knows before we get together tonight.”

  “Do you think he still smiles with his eyes?” Alyson wondered.

  I shrugged. “He might.”

  I’d first met Woody when I was about to start my senior year of high school. We were trying to solve a murder that had taken place a decade before, and he’d been a brand-new cop on the force, so he hadn’t developed the hard shell a lot of cops eventually do. He had a friendly smile and huge brown eyes, and I’ll admit to having a bit of a crush on him. I wasn’t quite as giddy as Alyson, but I was looking forward to seeing him again.

  “Well, if it isn’t Alyson Prescott,” Woody said, and wrapped me in a big hug.

  “I’m Amanda now.” I hugged him back.

  Woody took a step back. “Except for the hair and stylish clothes, you look just the same.”

  I looked up at the twinkle in his eyes. “Thank you. Time has been kind to you as well.”

  “I guess you’re here to talk about your friend’s murder.”

  I nodded. “I’ve come three thousand miles to try to help figure this out. I only hope I haven’t lost my knack over the years.”

  “I only have a few minutes to talk now—I have an appointment across town in less than thirty minutes—but I can fill you in briefly. Come on back to my office.”

  I followed Woody down the hall. He motioned for me to take a seat across the desk from him. He logged into his computer and opened a file. “If I had more time I could go into specifics, but all I can do right now is go over the basics.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “A basic understanding of what occurred and a place to start will be fine.”

  Woody fixed his eyes on the screen and began to read. “Rory Oswald, better known as Booker, was found dead in his home on the morning of November 10 by his housekeeper, Marina Parish. Ms. Parish found Mr. Oswald on the floor of the library when she went in to clean. The medical examiner found that Mr. Oswald had been dead for about twelve hours by the time Ms. Parish stumbled onto him. He died of a single gunshot wound to the back.’”

  I cringed. I couldn’t help it. I was squeamish, and the thought of Booker being brutally murdered was more than I thought I could take. “So you don’t have any suspects?”

  “I didn’t say that. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be a single one, but given that he was found in the library near the bookshelves, I began to suspect someone was after something Booker had in that room. Perhaps information. If you remember, he had an extensive library that contained a lot of old documents and journals as well as books. My best guess is that he was forced at gunpoint to provide the attacker with whatever he was after; then, when the attacker had what he was after, he shot him.”

  I bowed my head. I’d known before I got there how Booker had died, but discussing it with someone who’d seen the crime scene made it seem that much more real. “Was there anything in the library that narrowed things down at all?”

  “The crime scene guys went over the house from top to bottom. They didn’t find any evidence that would point to any specific person, but we assumed it was someone he knew because there was no sign of a forced entry. We pulled dozens of fingerprints from the house, but none seemed particularly suspect.”

  “Has anyone come forward to offer a theory or explanation of who might have wanted him dead?”

  Woody swiped his dark hair, which grew long in the front, from his eyes. “No, not really. We always receive a bunch of anonymous tips in cases like this, but nothing has panned out.” He sat back in his chair. “I know the two of you were close. And I know you’ve come a long way to find Mr. Oswald’s killer. But I have to be honest: the well seems to have run dry. We’ve investigated every lead no matter how slight and come up empty.”

  I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling. I fought the tears that wanted to escape as I tried to formulate a coherent response. After a moment, I lowered my head and looked at Woody. “I know you’ve done the best you could. And I appreciate it. And I don’t know if I’ll have any more success than you have. But I have to try. I hope you understand.”

  “I do. And I remember the success you had with seemingly impossible cases when you were in high school. I’d be foolish to send you away. What do you need?”

  “Copies of everything you have would help. Mac’s coming from California and Trevor’s closing Pirates Pizza early. We’re meeting at my house at seven.”

  Woody took a minute before answering. “I’ll provide the copies, but only if you include me in the discussion. I realize I’ve come up empty so far, but this is still an open investigation. An official presence would be a good idea.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll see you at seven. Bring beer.”

  After we left the police station I found myself saying to myself—and Alyson— “I wonder if we should bother to go to the store now. I suppose we can just go later.”

  Alyson shook her head. “We need to go now. We need cat food.”

  “Cat food? We don’t have a cat.”

  “Sure we do. Don’t you remember Shadow?”

  I did remember Shadow. He was a large black cat that had come into my life when I’d been in hiding on Madrona Island. He, like me, had the ability to see those who had passed on, and in some sort of strange but wonderful way, it quickly became apparent we were somehow connected. When I left Madrona Island and returned to Cutter’s Cove, he’d come with me. Before I left Cutter’s Cove, he’d disappeared. I’d looked and looked for him, but now I thought he must have preferred to stay behind.

  “Shadow is still here?” I asked.

  Alyson smiled. “Of course. He’s bonded to us, as is the house. He’ll be glad you’re home. He’s had to fend for himself since you’ve been gone. It’s not like I could go to the store to buy cat food.”

  “Why didn’t I see him yesterday?” I asked. “Or this morning?”

  Alyson shrugged. “He comes and goes. He’s home now. I can sense him.”

  I smiled. It would be good to see him again. I’d thought of him often, wondering many times what had become o
f him. “Okay. Then I’ll go to the store now. If I’m going to have guests, I should buy some snacks and beverages anyway.”

  “Don’t forget ice cream. We love ice cream,” Alyson reminded me.

  I laughed. “We do love ice cream.

  “Eaten straight from the carton,” we said at the same time.

  Chapter 3

  When the black BMW pulled into the drive, I thought it might belong to someone who was lost. When I opened the front door and found Alyson jumping around in unbridled excitement, I knew it was Mac. I wanted to join Alyson in her happy dance, but Amanda didn’t jump around like a lunatic no matter how happy she was. Instead, I stepped out onto the front porch and waited.

  “You really are here?” Mac shouted as she opened the driver’s door and stepped out. I opened my arms to her as she flew from the drive onto the porch.

  “I missed you so much,” Mac said as she hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe.

  “I missed you too.” I hugged her back. Until this moment, I hadn’t known just how much I’d missed her.

  “When Trev called and said you were here, I wasn’t sure I believed him.” Mac took a step back. There were tears streaming down her face. “I thought we’d never see you again.”

  I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. I’d had the best friends in the entire world and I’d let them fade away. “You look exactly the same,” I eventually murmured.

  Mac looked me up and down, frowned, and then smiled. “And you look different. Good. But different.”

  I put a hand to my shoulder-length hair before looking down at my slacks, silk blouse, and low heels. “You used to know Alyson. Today you’re seeing Amanda.” I looked at Mac. “I know that’s a weird thing to say. But I missed you and I’m so happy you’re here now.”

  “Not as happy as me.” Mac wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “Are you staying with your parents?”

  Mac shook her head. “The family moved to Tucson years ago.”

  “Then you’ll stay with me. It’s dusty but livable. Let’s get your things.”

  Mac nodded and then looked down to my feet. “Is that Shadow?”

  I picked up the furry black cat. “Yes, it’s Shadow. Can you believe he was here waiting for me?”

  “Actually, no. He looks just the same. It’s like he didn’t age at all while you were gone.”

  I shrugged. “We both know he’s some sort of magical kitty. I guess magic cats don’t age. To be honest, I was so thrilled to see him, I didn’t even stop to wonder at the specifics.”

  Mac reached out a hand to pet the cat. “And Tucker?”

  “He lives with my mom. Unlike Shadow, he aged. He’s been with my mom for quite a while, but I see him all the time.”

  “I remember the day you got him. He was all legs and ears. I can’t believe it’s been twelve years.”

  Yeah, me neither, I thought to myself as I set Shadow on the ground and followed Mac out to her car. I hadn’t had a lot of time to clean, but I’d removed the sheets from the furniture in the living room and run a dustcloth around until it looked somewhat decent. I’d cleaned my bedroom and bathroom as well but hadn’t gotten around to any of the guest rooms. Mac didn’t seem to mind the dust, so we put her things in the room across the hall from mine.

  “So, tell me everything,” Mac said after we’d dropped off her luggage and returned downstairs.

  I paused. Where would I even start? It both felt like I’d been gone a lifetime and like I’d been gone only a few minutes.

  “Start at the beginning. Tell her how hard it was to leave and what you’ve done since,” Alyson suggested. “But keep it short. The guys will be here soon.”

  “There’s a lot to tell and no way I can tell you everything in a few short minutes,” I finally answered. “We have a lot of time to catch up on. What I do want to say now is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise to stay in touch and I’m sorry I let the friendship we had fade away.”

  “Why did you?” Mac asked, a serious expression on her face.

  I took a deep breath. “I think the day Mom and I drove out of town was the hardest of my life. I’d been through a lot of hard things in my life, more than anyone should have to go through, but leaving you and Trevor and my life here was almost unbearable. I wanted to stay, but I knew my mom wanted to return to what she’d left behind. She’d given up so much for me: her family, her career, her friends, her marriage. I couldn’t ask her to stay once the danger was over, so I agreed to go. I really thought I’d finish high school and come back.”

  “But things changed,” Mac prompted.

  I nodded. “The longer I was away from my life here, the easier it was to be Amanda. It was almost like I left Alyson behind, and the longer I was separated from her, the less real she seemed. I didn’t set out to hurt you and Trevor. You meant so much to me. But the days passed, and I went to college and started a career and fell in love, and my life as Alyson seemed like nothing more than a nice memory.”

  “Fell in love?”

  I should have known Mac would pick up on that. “His name is Ethan. He’s a junior partner in a law firm and we’ve been together for two years.”

  “Any wedding plans?”

  I paused. “No. He’s busy with his career and I’m busy with mine. What we have suits us.”

  “I see.”

  I could tell by the look on Mac’s face that she really didn’t. “How about you? Any men in your life worth talking about?”

  Mac shook her head. “Not right now. I tend to get antsy after I’ve been in a relationship for a while, so I have a history of breaking things off before they get too complicated. I’ve had a few long-term relationships I hoped would go the distance, but none seemed exactly right. I’m not sure happily ever after is in the cards for me. I tend to be particular about who I spend my time with. If I really think about it, you and Trev are the only people I’ve ever been interested in maintaining a relationship with for the long haul. And my family, of course. And your mom. How’s your mom?” Mac asked.

  “She’s good. She reopened her gallery and rekindled a lot of her old friendships. She has a wonderful estate in Bronxville. It’s close to the city, which allows her to keep up with her art gallery and her charity work, but it’s far enough from the hustle and bustle to provide a quiet, more laid-back lifestyle.”

  “And your dad?”

  I shrugged. “I see him, but not all that often.”

  “He didn’t reconcile with your mom when you got home?”

  My father had chosen to divorce my mother rather than come with us when we were relocated. “He made his choice. My mom is happy. I don’t think she regrets that they’re no longer together.” That still made me feel sad and guilty. “How about you? Other than not becoming seriously involved in a romantic relationship, what have you been up to?”

  “College, computers, world domination. You know; same old, same old.”

  I laughed. “I don’t doubt any of it. You were and still are the smartest person I know. Do you like your job?”

  Mac lifted one shoulder. “Eh.”

  “Eh doesn’t sound good.”

  “Eh is fine. Eh makes me a boatload of money. Eh provides me with the opportunity to work with people I like and admire. But it’s grown to be somewhat predictable. The excitement is gone. I think it might be time for a change.”

  “Are you going to break up with your job?”

  Mac laughed. “I think it might be time.”

  “Do you have something else in mind?”

  Mac tilted her head of curly red hair. “I’m thinking of starting my own company. Cybersecurity is all the rage, and it might be a lot more interesting than developing business software.”

  “Wow. That’s great, Mac.” I leaned forward and hugged her. “I’m incredibly happy for you. I knew from the moment I met you that you were destined for great things.”

  I watched as Alyson flew
to the front door and plastered her face to the window. “It sounds like the guys are here,” I said based on her actions. Was I really that boy crazy when I was a teen? I didn’t think so. Of course, Alyson wasn’t really me, only a part of me. From my observation, she wasn’t only the fun part but the hormonal part as well.

  ******

  “So, tell me what Booker was up to in the days preceding his death,” I said later that evening, after the pizza had been devoured. I was giddy with happiness that my friends and I were together again, but I really wanted to find Booker’s killer.

  “In the days right before, Booker was busy working on the new wing he’d donated to the history museum,” Trevor said.

  “He donated a whole wing?” I asked.

  “He did,” Woody confirmed. “I imagine he realized he was getting on in years and was thinking about leaving a legacy behind. He spoke to Caleb Wellington and they came up with the idea of adding a wing to the museum in his name.”

  “Caleb is back in town?” When I’d left Cutter’s Cove, I hadn’t been the only one heading to New York.

  “He is,” Trevor answered my question. “He’s not only a very active member of the historical society but he’s opened an art gallery in town. He does very well for himself, not that he needs the money.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I’m looking forward to reconnecting. But go on with your story.” I looked at Woody, then Trevor. “Both of you.”

  “The wing he donated focuses on shipping in the area, and how the cargo ships that ran up and down the West Coast from South America to Alaska helped to carve out local history,” Woody continued. “Mr. Oswald had a lot of information about the subject and the role it played in the development of Cutter’s Cove, and he donated a lot of old artifacts. The historical society put out a call for additional donations, much the same as they did when the museum was first founded.”

  I did remember that. My mother had helped Caleb open the museum in the beginning.

  “A couple of boxes of items were donated that seemed to be of special interest to Mr. Oswald,” Woody said. “He didn’t want to say exactly why he found the boxes of dishes and pipes so fascinating, but he did request that he be given the chance to look at everything before it was displayed.”