Ghost Walk

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Ghost Walk Page 11

by Melissa Bowersock


  Lacey shot Sam a look of surprise. “You… you have the boat?” she asked.

  “Yeah. What’s left of it. Come on, this way.”

  Welker led them out the back door, through the massive warehouse and out into the expansive yard beyond. Lacey was stunned to see rows and rows of wrecked boats, rusted, mangled cars and huge pieces of metal from unrecognizable sources.

  “It was a Hunter,” he said over his shoulder as they walked.

  “A Hunter?” she repeated.

  “Yeah. Good boat. It’s over here. You’ll have to squeeze through.”

  The boat had been boxed in by later additions, so the three of them had to edge sideways past a sun-bleached cabin cruiser. When they reached the sailboat, Welker slapped its hull.

  “This is it. I took the masts off, but they were actually okay.”

  Lacey was surprised by the size of the boat. The pure white hull, even dulled by dirt, damage and sun exposure, was still impressive.

  “It’s big,” she said.

  “Thirty-two footer,” Welker said.

  No wonder, she thought. Three times longer than her car.

  “Here’s the hole.” He ducked under the front of the boat and showed them the smashed fiberglass where the rocks had torn a hole.

  “And this damage is consistent with how you found it? On the rocks?” Lacey got out her phone as she spoke and took some pictures of the damaged hull.

  “Oh, yeah. Those rocks’ll chew up a boat pretty good when the tide’s right.” He led them along the side. “Here’s more places where it got knocked around. Once it went aground, the waves just kept beating it up worse and worse.”

  The side of the boat was scratched and nicked, dented in places, although none of those had broken through the white fiberglass. Lacey fingered the scratches and took more pictures.

  “Did they say why they were sailing so close to the rocks in the middle of the night?” she asked.

  “Not that I ever heard,” Welker said. “But they weren’t just under sail. They had the engine going, too.”

  “The engine?”

  “Yup. This baby had a Beta 28-horsepower diesel. ‘Course it seized up once the salt water got to it.” He walked on down the length of the boat to the stern. “But I noticed the key in the ignition was turned on.”

  “Why would they need both forms of propulsion?” Lacey asked.

  Welker shrugged. “Speed, probably. Most likely trying to get the hell away from the rocks.”

  Lacey filed that away. “Mr. Welker, could a single person handle this boat by themselves?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’d say anything up to a forty, forty-five footer could be handled by one person as long as they knew what they were doing. These newer boats have in-mast furling, so it takes no effort at all to furl and unfurl the sails from the cockpit with the electric motor. And most couples who sail a lot will make sure they can both handle the boat alone, just in case of illness or accident.”

  The three of them rounded the stern and Welker slapped the aft end.

  “Too bad. Nice boat.”

  Lacey looked up at the flat stern of the boat, at the gleaming white fiberglass that was starting to dull with too much sun. The name of the boat was painted in a perky, navy blue font just above the water line.

  Toodles.

  Lacey took a picture.

  “Would it be possible to get up there?” Sam asked. Lacey shot him a surprised look, but he ignored it.

  “Sure. This way.” Welker led them to a portable metal stairway and pushed it up against the side of the boat. “It’s stable,” he said. “Won’t shift on you.”

  Sam climbed the stairs and stepped onto the deck. Lacey thought about following, but felt sure he was trying to gather any residue of emotion. Better to not interfere. While he was up there, she walked down the other side of the boat and noted the damage there. She took more pictures.

  After only a few minutes, Sam was climbing back down. His expression told Lacey nothing. She stared at him pointedly, but he only shook his head.

  “All right, Mr. Welker,” she said finally. “I think that’s all for now. Thank you very much for your time. We appreciate you showing us the boat.”

  “Sure thing,” he said, leading the way back toward the front. “You think this was more than just an accident?”

  Lacey hedged. “Um, we’re not really sure yet. Still putting it all together.”

  “Well, you need anything else, let me know.” He opened the door to the warehouse and led them through to the front desk.

  “Thank you, Mr. Welker. I appreciate your help.” They shook hands. Before Lacey and Sam were out the door, Welker had already disappeared back into his maze of junk.

  Lacey checked her watch. “We’ve got time for a quick lunch before the ferry leaves.”

  “I saw a burger joint back there,” Sam said, motioning back toward town. “A retro diner place.”

  “That works for me,” she said, and they started walking that way. “Did you get anything from the boat? Any feelings at all?”

  “No, nothing. I figured it was a long shot, but thought I’d give it a try.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Anything’s worth a try.” She fell silent as they walked, her mind abuzz with possibilities. Her head felt like that salvage yard, crammed full of junk, none of it particularly useful.

  Once they reached the diner and ordered lunch, she began flipping through the pictures on her phone.

  “What are you thinking?” Sam asked.

  Lacey glanced up at him. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s there, just out of reach, but I just can’t grasp it.” She tossed the phone down and stared out the window. “Did you notice that no one seemed to see Doug that weekend? They saw her, but not him.”

  “I did notice that,” he said, nodding.

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “It could be something… or nothing. This whole case is full of ifs, ands or buts. At least in the Fairfax case, we knew what happened. We had solid evidence, facts. In this case, it’s all a crapshoot.”

  She grabbed up her phone again and swiped through the pictures. “Did you notice the name of the boat?” She turned her phone so he could see the photo.

  “Toodles?” he queried.

  “Yeah. As in toodle-oo. Very cutesy. She actually said that to me on the phone. Toodles. I didn’t think anyone over the age of twelve talked like that. Apparently it was her favorite word.”

  Their lunch arrived. Lacey barely tasted it. Her mind churning, she ate with almost no recognition of the food in front of her.

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re like a dog with a bone?” Sam asked after several silent moments.

  Lacey looked up, her face pinking with embarrassment. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I get that way when I can’t figure stuff out.”

  “So I gather,” he said. There was the smallest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, so no one here seems to have seen him that weekend. What did the girlfriend say? She talked to him just before?”

  Lacey shook her head. “Didn’t talk—texted. On Friday. He said he’d see her on Monday.”

  “Who else might have seen him? Should have seen him?”

  Lacey sat bolt upright. “His co-workers. He was a real estate agent. Worked for…” Frantically she dug into her purse, finally found her notepad and riffled through it. “Realty Professionals of San Clemente. Let me get a number for them.” She tapped on her phone, waited, watching, then smiled. “I’m going outside. I’ll be right back.”

  But it wasn’t that easy. She reached an agent at the main office, but not one who’d shared office space with Doug. After being transferred once, then given another phone number to call, she finally got to someone, a Pete Donvan, who might know.

  And ran back inside the diner.

  “Sam!” she hissed as she slid into her seat. “He didn’t come to work either Thursday or Friday. And guess what?”

  “His wife called in for him?”

  “Ye
s! Said they had some personal business to see to, something that couldn’t wait.” She tossed down her phone and picked up a French fry, pointing it at Sam. “That means no one saw him after six-thirty p.m. Wednesday night—except Marci. I’ll bet that’s the night she killed him.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

  Lacey blinked at him. “What?”

  “The text on Friday to the girlfriend?”

  She exhaled heavily, leaning on her hand. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Shit.” She attacked her French fries again.

  Sam smothered a laugh.

  “What?” she barked.

  “You,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anyone so single-minded. You zone in like a laser. I’d hate to be the crook that got in your sights.”

  Lacey gave him a lopsided smile. “Hey, we don’t all have ghosts telling us what happened to them like you do. We mere mortals have to figure it out clue by clue.”

  “And you’ll do that,” he said. It wasn’t just a statement; it was a pronouncement.

  “Thanks,” she said, coloring slightly. “Hey, what was it you said you wanted to talk about?”

  “How we doing on time?”

  Lacey checked her watch. “We’ve got a few minutes.”

  He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what you said before, about karma and balance. About justice. I never really thought about it in the larger picture like that. But it’s all connected. As I said, I was always just concerned with that one spirit, that one restless soul that needed to be heard before it could move on. But you’re right; there’s more to it than that.”

  Lacey watched him as he spoke, hoping the told-you-so glow was not evident in her eyes.

  “I think we’re finding that balance,” he said, “working together. It feels…” He searched for the word he wanted. “Bigger. Fuller. Whole. Like what I was doing before was only a piece of it. This feels… complete.”

  She felt humbled by his words. Heartened, but humbled. “I, uh, I think you’re right. I had never considered the deeper aspects of what I was doing, just the opposite of you. I was only concerned with catching these guys and locking them up. But this does feel larger and more complete.” She tipped her head at him. “I think it’s a good match.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

  ~~~

  ELEVEN

  The trip back to Long Beach was more playful than the trip out. Even though they hadn’t solved the case, they both felt gratified by the progress they’d made; if nothing else, they’d been thorough and had crossed off some items on the list. Lacey reapplied sunscreen to her face liberally—with Sam informing her when she had a big glob of it on her forehead—and they sat up top for the first part of the ride, then went below to give her fair skin a break from the sun.

  “So what’s on tap for Daddy this afternoon?” she asked finally.

  “No telling,” he said. “We’ll see what the munchkins are up for. Which reminds me…” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. “I turned this off, just in case. Oh, yeah. Here’s a message from Danny.” He punched up voice mail and listened intently, took Lacey’s wrist and checked her watch.

  “What’s up?” she asked when he tapped out of voice mail and slid his phone in his pocket.

  “He’s antsy. Wants to know when I’ll pick them up. I’ll call him once we get to the car. Too noisy here.”

  As soon as they docked and clambered off the boat, they headed straight to the car. Lacey drove toward the freeway and Sam called Daniel.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he said. “We’re on our way back. I should be there to get you in about an hour and a half or so… No, we can’t go any faster. My partner’s a cop. She’s not going to speed for you or… Yeah, a real cop… No, I have to go home first and get my truck…”

  Lacey touched his arm.

  “Hang on,” he said into the phone. He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and turned to Lacey, eyebrows raised.

  “Why don’t we go directly there? We’ll pick up the kids and then I’ll take all three of you to your place.”

  Sam thought it over silently. Finally he nodded once and went back to the phone. “We’ll be there soon… An hour… Okay, tell your mom. Bye.”

  He keyed off the call and put his phone away. “Thanks.”

  “Sure,” she said. “But you shouldn’t lie to him.”

  “Lie?”

  “I’m not a cop,” she reminded him.

  Sam chuckled. “Close enough.”

  He directed her to a two-story apartment building with dozens of look-alike balconies and a wrap-around parking lot. She pulled into the guest space he indicated and stopped the car.

  “You can keep it running,” he said, climbing out. “They’ll be rarin’ to go.”

  He sauntered up a walkway and disappeared around a corner.

  Lacey smiled to herself. It’d be interesting to see the dynamics of Sam with his kids. See a side of him she didn’t know. She snorted. Yeah, like she knew so much about him.

  The sound of running footsteps caught her attention. A little girl, dark hair in pigtails, ran around the corner of the building. She had a small pink backpack on—Hello, Kitty—and carried a floppy stuffed animal. At the walkway, she stopped and looked back the way she had come. A moment later, Sam and Daniel appeared.

  Daniel was a smaller version of Sam. Tall, he came up to Sam’s chin, and had the same lean build, minus the muscles. His short-cropped hair shone blue-black in the sun, just like Sam’s.

  Sam pointed out Lacey’s car to the kids, and they all walked over. When he opened the back door, Daniel and Kenzie jockeyed to be first in. They both tumbled into the back seat and looked at Lacey expectantly.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Lacey.”

  “I’m Daniel,” the boy said, taking the lead. “This is my sister, Kenzie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Lacey said. She smiled at them through the rearview mirror as Sam settled in the front seat.

  “Are you really a cop?” Daniel asked. “You’re not driving a cop car.”

  “Well,” Lacey hedged, “cops don’t drive cop cars when they’re off duty, you know.”

  “Lacey’s a private investigator,” Sam said. “You know, like Magnum P.I.?”

  That seemed to placate Daniel. “Cool,” he said.

  Lacey cut Sam a quick glance. “He watches Magnum P.I.?”

  Sam chuckled quietly. “So I have DVDs of all the seasons. Shoot me.”

  Lacey laughed, then composed herself again. “Okay, seat belts, please,” she said. “This car doesn’t move until all seat belts are fastened.”

  She heard the grumbles and the clicks from the back seat, made sure Sam had fastened his, and backed out of the parking lot.

  “So are you guys out of school now?” she asked. “Out for summer vacation?”

  Kenzie giggled. “Not Daniel.”

  “Shut up,” Daniel muttered.

  “Hey, guys,” Sam said, turning around toward the back seat. “Kenzie, no teasing. Daniel, no barking.” He turned back toward the front and said, “Someone got a D in math, so he’s in summer school.”

  “Uh oh,” Lacey said. “That’s a tough break, huh? But I bet you’ll do better this time, right?”

  “Yeah.” Daniel’s voice was heavy with resignation. Kenzie smothered a laugh.

  “I hated math, too,” Lacey said. “But we’ve all gotta have it. It’s important.”

  Daniel huffed.

  “Sorry, kiddo,” Sam said. “You don’t wanna flip burgers all your life, do you?”

  “No.”

  “What do you want to do?” Lacey asked.

  “I wanna work in construction like my dad.”

  Lacey was startled to realize it was the first time she’d ever heard what Sam did. “Well,” she said, “you’ll definitely need math if you want to build things. What about you, Kenzie? What do you want to do when you grow up?”

  “I want to t
ake care of animals,” Kenzie said. “See my bear?” She hung the floppy stuffed animal over the seat back. Lacey couldn’t take her eyes off the road long enough for an intensive look, but thought she saw a Star Wars bandage stuck on the fur.

  “Did you fix it?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Kenzie nodded enthusiastically and pulled the bear back into her lap.

  “What’s your bear’s name?” Lacey asked.

  “Roland.”

  Lacey forced herself to keep a straight face. Not your usual bear name, she thought.

  “What school do you go to, Kenzie?”

  “Franklin.”

  “How about you, Daniel?”

  “Thomas Starr King,” he said.

  “Well, keep up the good work,” Lacey said. “Education will get you anywhere you want to go.”

  There was some quiet giggling in the back seat. Then Daniel’s voice.

  “We want to go to 31 Flavors.”

  Lacey choked on a laugh. “I’ll leave that up to your dad,” she said.

  “We’ll see.” Sam turned around to impale the kids with a stern look. “If you both eat all your dinner, maybe we’ll go get ice cream. Maybe.”

  A double cheer went up in the back seat. Lacey had the impression that maybe was a common, but usually empty, threat.

  She turned into the parking lot and pulled up next to the blue pickup truck. The kids immediately freed themselves from their seat belts and scrambled out of the car.

  “Thanks,” Sam said. He’d opened his door, but then looked over at Lacey. “Don’t think too much tonight.”

  She grinned at him. “Me? Never.”

  “Yeah, right.” He climbed out of the car and shouted to the kids. “What do you say?”

  “Thank you!” Daniel called.

  “Thank you, Lacey.” Kenzie waved goodbye with Roland.

  “You’re welcome,” Lacey answered. “See ya.”

  She backed away as Sam let his kids into the apartment.

  ~~~

  Don’t think too much, she reminded herself later. She’d put a load of laundry in, had fixed herself a light dinner and sat at the table poring over all the paper records, her notepad and her phone.

 

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