Shadows on the Sand

by Gayle Roper

Her words made no sense. “What do you mean, at risk?”

  “I can’t tell you.” Another shuddering sob and a moment or two of silence. Then she sniffed and pulled away.

  “Greg was here today.” She rearranged the sweatshirt she wore over her Carrie’s Café shirt. “He came with Chaz, the constable, and the rental company guy.”

  “And they didn’t find you?”

  She shook her head. “I hid in the tub behind the shower curtain.”

  “Clever girl.”

  “Chaz saw me. That’s why I had the hammer. I thought you were him.” She hugged herself. “I don’t like him. He’s mean. Slimy.”

  I silently agreed. There was something about the guy. When he’d come into the café today and talked with Fred, there had been something very sneaky about his whole demeanor.

  “Shush, honey.” I patted Andi’s back. “It’ll be all right. Whatever the problem is, we can work it out.”

  “But they might hurt him like they did Jase.” Her voice shook. “Or maybe me!”

  I took her hand and pulled her down to sit on the kitchen floor, leaning back against a cabinet. The apartment might be pretty much empty of furniture, but there was grit and dust galore. I reached beneath my seat and pulled out a piece of wallboard. I flipped it across the room.

  Andi shivered, and I thought about her hiding in this sad-looking unit. I sat shoulder to shoulder with her, taking her painfully cold hand in my good one. She clutched at me.

  “Who will they hurt, Andi? And who are they?”

  “Clooney! They might kill him!”

  I blinked. “Someone’s going to kill Clooney?”

  “And it’ll be all my fault!”

  “But why? Who?”

  “Harl. And Michael.”

  Clearly I was supposed to know who these men were. “I don’t—”

  “Sure you do. Michael the Archangel. And my brother-in-law.”

  “Michael the Archangel? From The Pathway?” I might have some serious questions about the man and his cult, but I’d never thought of him as a murderer.

  She nodded. “And my brother-in-law.”

  “I know who Michael is, but I don’t know—”

  “Sure you do. He comes into the café.”

  “He does?”

  “He keeps meeting with Greg.”

  I frowned. “That’s Fred Durning. He’s buying the properties Greg manages. Or he represents the people who are.”

  “That’s Harl. He’s married to my sister, Becca. He’s Michael’s right hand. He’s the one who got my father so mixed up in bad stuff.”

  “Fred is your brother-in-law Harl?”

  She nodded. “They’ve got scams going all the time. Whenever dirty work needs to be done, Harl sees that it’s done, and he uses my father lots of times. He used to use Jase too.”

  “What do you mean, scams?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I tried to spy, but they watched me all the time. I just know they are evil. They lie all the time.”

  “Like?”

  “Like Michael and Harl are supposed to be at the retreat house for personal meditation, but I’d see Harl leave the compound with Dad or Jase. Once I saw him leave with some tall guy with short dark hair.” She looked around like she expected to see someone lurking in the shadows right now. “I don’t know where they went or what they did, but I know it’s bad.”

  “You think it’s bad.”

  She shook her head. “I know. Just like I know Harl’s the one who murdered Jase.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I do.” Her voice was fierce. “For two reasons. One, Harl’s here in Seaside. He came after Jase. Otherwise why would he be here?”

  “He oversaw buying this apartment building and others.”

  “But he’s supposed to be living an austere life for God’s glory in Arizona. And believe me, if Harl is buying, it’s because Michael told him to.”

  What she was saying was hard to believe, but her reasoning seemed sound. “I suppose the money they use for their scams is from gifts given by followers.”

  “My father gave them all his money. Everyone who lives there does. And people send money in response to his YouTube stuff.”

  I was always amazed at how gullible people were. “But, Andi, there’s a huge difference between financial indiscretion and murder.”

  Her chin got that stubborn look, and her voice shook with both anger and sorrow. “I saw what they did to Jennie.”

  “Who’s Jennie?”

  “She was my best friend. Michael was forcing her to marry some old guy, and she wanted to marry Jase. I snuck into Michael’s headquarters the night of the initiation to try to help her escape somehow.”

  “What’s the initiation?”

  “That’s when Michael sleeps with all the brides the night before the wedding.”

  My skin crawled. “And people go along with that vile practice?”

  “That’s my reaction too!” She seemed excited that I understood.

  “So Jennie?” I said to bring her back on topic.

  “Right. So there I was, in headquarters skulking around, looking for Jennie. I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to get her out of there, or if worse came to worst, hold her while she cried afterward. Instead I stumbled into the video room and saw Harl and Michael set up the phony scene of her death.”

  “Jennie’s dead?” I wasn’t all that surprised.

  “And Michael killed her! It’s on the DVD. I didn’t know that when I grabbed it and ran, but it’s all there.”

  “You have a disc showing Michael committing murder?” I was appalled at the danger this girl had put herself in, if even a fraction of what she said was true. “What did you do with it?”

  “At first I hid it in the infirmary until I could escape. When the little kids got sick and had to go to the hospital, I saw my chance. I taped the disc in its jewel case to my stomach and grabbed a sick kid.”

  I listened, amazed, to the story of the bikers who had rescued her. “How did Michael and Harl know you were the one who took the disc?”

  “They didn’t. I think they thought it was Jase because he left right after Jennie was buried. He tried to fake his death with a lame auto accident. But they found him. I can’t prove they killed him, but I know.”

  “And that’s why you think he was killed? Because they thought he had the DVD?”

  “I know that’s why he was killed.” Her stomach growled, and she dropped her hand as if to muffle it. “And that’s why they’ll kill me if they find me. And they might hurt Clooney if they thought he could tell them where I was.”

  “You don’t think he can take care of himself?”

  “He’s old, Carrie. He’ll try to defend me, and they’ll get him.”

  Somehow I didn’t think he’d appreciate being consigned to the trash heap because he wasn’t thirty anymore.

  Andi’s stomach growled again. Murders and stolen evidence weren’t my forte, but food was. “When was the last time you ate?”

  “I finished my last candy bar last night.”

  I climbed to my feet and held out a hand to her, pulling her up. “Come on. We’ll go to the café and I’ll make you a sandwich and heat some of Lindsay’s soup. And we’ll call the police.”

  Her stomach growled approval as she stood and brushed the grit off her seat.

  “What did you do with the disc after you left the compound?”

  “I watched it.”

  Not what I meant, but obviously what had affected her deeply. She clutched my hand.

  “It shows Michael kill Jennie and Harl help cover it up. I don’t think he meant to kill her, but he was violent with her. He wouldn’t listen to her. He killed her.”

  Maybe not murder but involuntary manslaughter? “Why didn’t you take the DVD to the police?” It’s what I would have done.

  “My dad. I’ve lost all respect for him, especially after what he did to my mom, but he’s still my dad, you know? I don’t want him
to go to jail.” She gave a broken sob.

  Poor kid. I gave her a comforting squeeze. “You know you can’t protect your father if he did wrong things.”

  She gave a sigh torn from deep down. “I know. And it’s not just the scams. He married these underage girls, and I think he’s done other stuff for Michael, bad stuff. Dad’s a computer whiz, and who knows what he’s done?”

  “I’m very sorry about that for your sake, Andi, but we need to go to the authorities and give them the DVD as soon as possible. Then Michael and Fred—Harl—will be arrested, and both you and Clooney will be safe.”

  “You think so?” she asked, and I heard hope for the first time. “What about my dad?”

  “I don’t know, but if he did wrong, he needs to be held accountable.”

  Andi sighed. “My mom died and my sister might as well have, and Dad is all I have, though I don’t really have him either. Or even want him.”

  Been there, kiddo. “I never knew my father, and my mother might as well have been dead.” A picture of the lovely woman she now was flashed through my mind, and I pushed it ruthlessly aside. “No parents is a lonely place to be. But there are lots of people here who love you, honey. I know we don’t replace family, but we care and we’re here for you. And God cares. He always cares.”

  “If He cares, why am I in this mess?” Her question was desperate.

  “Because a lot of people didn’t do things His way. That always complicates life.”

  She gave a sad little laugh. “Complicated. Yep. That’s my life.”

  “Well, let’s go uncomplicate one part of it.” I flicked off the kitchen light and moved with care toward the hole in the wall. The less dense blackness of the outside showed where I hadn’t been able to pull the board back into place. “Where’s the DVD now?”

  “At the café.”

  “My café?”

  “Yeah. They’d never think to look there.” She sighed. “I never expected them to find me.”

  I reached out my good hand to push the plywood sheet out of our way, aware that the outside darkness had gotten deeper as I neared it. I frowned, trying to make sense of that fact, when my hand touched fingers reaching for a hold from the other side. I gave a squeak as the sheet rumbled aside.

  A bright light struck our faces, blinding us, but I recognized the voice that said, “But we did find you, didn’t we?”

  46

  I stared at the trio who pushed their way into the apartment: Michael, the so-called archangel, Harl, alias Fred Durning, and Chaz.

  Andi hid behind me, peering at the three over my shoulder. How I wished there was someone for me to hide behind, preferably someone very tall and very wide, armed to the teeth and trained in martial arts.

  Michael ignored me and spoke to Andi. “So you’re the one who has the disc.” He sounded as if he were speaking of something as innocuous as the weekly shopping list.

  “Michael?” she said. “Where’s your hair?” She looked at me, and I thought of the tall man with short dark hair she’d seen leave the compound on some past occasion.

  He ran his hand over his extremely short cut. His smile was scary, filled with pride at his cleverness and scorn that she, like everyone else, had been deceived.

  Andi grabbed my shoulder and held on like I had to hold her upright. I could feel her shaking. I didn’t feel any too steady myself.

  “Let’s go get it.” Michael motioned toward the opening in the wall, and for the first time I realized he had a gun in his hand. It glinted dully in the beam of the flashlight Andi’s brother-in-law held.

  I’d always wondered what I’d do if someone approached me at gunpoint and demanded I go with him. I’d always thought I’d be strong enough to say, “No! I will not go with you. Shoot me here if you must.” After all, most dark country road murders didn’t start at that location.

  Michael must have sensed my reluctance. “You too, lady, or I’ll shoot the girl.”

  Even as I heard Andi moan behind me, I took a step toward the opening. I didn’t think Michael would kill Andi before he got what he wanted from her, but shooting didn’t have to mean dead, at least not right away. It could mean hurt a lot.

  I eyed Michael askance. This well-known, charismatic man might sound composed, but his carefully constructed house of cards would collapse around him if that disc ever saw the light of day. With so much at stake he was as dangerous as the iceberg lying in wait for the Titanic. Apparent calm above, desperation and determination below. If Andi was correct, murder had already been done to preserve the secrets recorded on that disc, and murder would have to be done again this night to keep Andi and me silent. Not a heartening thought.

  I moved toward the opening, praying I’d find some way to save us before the disc was recovered. I tried not to dwell on the unhappy thought that if Michael became too agitated, I was the expendable one.

  Andi gripped my jacket and the sweater beneath in her fist. She had to let go when I got to the opening so I could climb out. She followed so quickly she stepped on my heels. When we were standing in the fresh air, she spun me around so she was behind me again. She leeched onto my jacket with both fists this time.

  Michael waved the gun in the direction of a gray sedan. “Get in. Hurry!” Anger and an unhealthy volatility shimmered around him. If I could see auras—if there was such a thing—his would be jagged with instability and as black as midnight.

  I looked around as I moved toward the car, hoping against hope for someone who would save us. Lord, where’s our superhero?

  The closest thing to Superman in my life was Greg, and he was having dinner with Josh Templeton.

  I’ll take Cilla peering out her window, Lord. Someone. Anyone!

  No one showed.

  A thought swam through my fear, and I latched on to it because I liked its logic. Surely the Lord wouldn’t let anything happen to me and put Greg through the death of another person he loved, would He?

  Fred/Harl yanked the back car door open and pushed Andi and me inside. We tumbled over each other as he pushed his way in behind us. He had a gun too, and its little round opening was pointed right at me.

  Michael took the driver’s seat, and Chaz jumped in the passenger side. Michael hit the gas and roared out of the lot.

  I couldn’t believe my situation. I was just a woman in the hospitality industry, trying to make a living in my cozy little café I leased from Mary P, trying to establish a lasting relationship with a man I’d loved from afar for a long time. In other words, normal, ordinary. Kidnapping at gunpoint was wrong on so many planes.

  Yet all around me were armed men who saw me as the enemy.

  Lord, this is supposed to be my time to dance, not die!

  My shaking hands hadn’t even managed to click my seat belt closed before we pulled up behind the café. As Harl shoved me out, I glanced up at the apartment.

  Let it be dark, Lord!

  Light bled out into the night, and as Chaz slammed his car door, Lindsay moved to our back door and looked out. She held Oreo in her arms, the cat’s black body obvious against Lindsay’s light-colored shirt.

  Michael glared at Chaz. “You think you could make any more noise?”

  “Sorry,” Chaz whispered, but he didn’t look sorry to me. With his usual arrogance he thought himself equal to the powerbroker he was running with.

  “The sister’s looking at us,” Harl said.

  I opened my mouth to scream, “Call the cops!” or something equally helpful, but Michael grabbed Andi. She squeaked as he pushed his gun against her temple.

  “One word. Just one word,” he warned me.

  I closed my mouth.

  “Wave like everything’s fine,” he ordered.

  I waved. Lindsay waved back, but I could see she was wondering what was going on. Michael must have seen her confusion too.

  “Get the sister. Quick!” he ordered, but Harl was already at the top of the stairs.

  He knocked at the door, a smile on his face.

/>   Don’t open it, Linds! Don’t open it!

  She opened it with a smile. “Hi, Fred. Looking for Greg? He’s not here.”

  He laughed. “Not this time. I’m after you.” He raised his gun.

  Lindsay’s face registered shock. As she stiffened, Oreo stirred.

  “Downstairs or your sister gets it.” It was the normalcy of his voice, a voice I was used to hearing ask for a sticky bun, that made the threat so chilling.

  Lindsay stumbled to the steps and started down. When she reached for the handrail, Oreo jumped free. She was a black bullet streaking down and around the corner of the building. The men ignored her.

  “Carrie?” Lindsay’s voice quaked with fear.

  “I’m okay, Linds,” I assured her as she reached the bottom. “It’s okay.” Talk about a ridiculous statement, but it seemed to help Lindsay. She blinked away the shocked look and frowned.

  “Inside, all of you.” Michael gestured with his gun.

  Lindsay grabbed my hand. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “Shut up.” Harl poked her in the back with his gun. She jumped and shut up.

  Chaz tried to open the café door. “It’s locked!”

  “Of course it is,” I said. “The café’s closed.”

  Harl grabbed Lindsay, jerking her against him. “Open it,” he snarled at me.

  “I don’t have my keys.”

  “Then figure out another way.”

  I looked at the solid slab of wood with no little glass window I could break so I could reach in and pop the lock. “It’s as break-in proof as they come,” the salesman had told me. I never thought I’d see the day I regretted taking his advice.

  “I’ve got the key.” Lindsay pushed against Harl’s grip. “Let me go, and I’ll get it.”

  He released her at a nod from Michael. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key.

  “When I saw it was Fred on the landing, I grabbed it from the counter by the door where you dropped it, Carrie, because I thought he must have left something in the café.”

  “No good deed ever goes unpunished.” Harl laughed at his own sorry humor.

  While Lindsay unlocked the door, I stood quietly, trying to decide how I could take advantage of the alarm system we had installed a year ago. The keypad to disengage the alarm was just inside the back door, and you had to enter a code within thirty seconds after entering or they called to check on you.