“Very generous of you,” I said, knowing how protective Lu was of the art gallery.
“When lives are at stake, we do what we must.” Lu shrugged. Even in the aftermath of a tropical storm, she was a fashion plate in her crisp khaki capris, striped boatneck sailor top, and the added touch of an anchor-printed scarf. She gave a wave and scurried out the door, leaving me alone with Whistler.
During my lone task of making sandwiches with a seafood salad I’d concocted from the remainder of the wedding appetizers, Zoe called to check in.
“I’m so glad to get through!” she said. “I’ve been trying for hours. How are you?”
“Safe and sound.”
“Thank goodness.” Relief … followed by a scolding. “I would have thought you’d call to let me know.”
“It’s been a little crazy.”
“The news is saying the Cape caught a lucky break.”
“Well, I guess that’s the sunny California news anchor take.” I tried but didn’t succeed in keeping the resentment from my tone. My sister liked having the whole country as a buffer between her and Whale Rock with its mysterious bitter past.
She ignored the jab. “They say the storm’s path has been so unpredictable that lots of larger ships are still at sea trying to outrun or avoid it.”
This had me wondering what course the Lady Spirit had finally taken out of Cape Cod.
“Of course,” Zoe continued, “they did say it would have been much worse had the storm stalled.”
“Power’s out everywhere, and lots of trees are down, blocking roads and rescue crews.” I put the phone on speaker so I could continue with my task. “Who knows what damage to homes?”
I waited for her to ask how The Bluffs had fared, but she felt the same hostility toward our family home as she did the town.
“Lu was here helping but had to leave to open up the gallery for Brooks because the station roof was damaged.” I paused before adding another little poke: “But perhaps you’ve already heard from Brooks?”
My sister was going through a tough separation from her husband, Oliver, and I held suspicions that she and her high school beau had reconnected by phone.
“Now you’re just being silly, Cassandra.”
Was I? I thought not. But now was not the time to probe further.
“No deaths reported yet for your area,” she told me.
“That’s good. However, we do have a missing child. A little boy named Lucas.”
“Oh no.” Zoe’s voice caught, making me feel guilty for giving her a hard time. Having been unable to have children herself, my sister spent one morning each week volunteering at a local nursery school. She called it her “baby fix.”
“How old?” she asked.
“Three.”
“So young,” she gasped.
“I know,” I agreed. “And conditions couldn’t be worse for trying to find him, both on land and sea. My friend Teddy’s on the dive team, but I can’t imagine how easy that will be with the storm remnants kicking up such a rough surf.”
“Teddy? I’ve never heard you mention him.”
“I met him last summer. He was tending bar at a little dive in Eastham called Wizards.”
“I know the place.”
“Oh?” That was a surprise. It didn’t seem like Zoe’s kind of hangout.
“Back in the day, it was the only place that didn’t card.”
“Ah.” I finished wrapping the last of the sandwiches. “Sorry to end this, but I’ve got to run some food and water supplies into town.”
“Please keep me posted?” She then added, “Especially about that poor little boy.”
“Sure will.” I ended the call, shoving from my mind images of a lost little boy, frightened and hurt … or worse. As Granny Fi would have said: “Troubled thoughts open the door wide for the devil.”
I sniffed the air. A cloud of burning sugar had descended, and more pungent than usual. Percy and Celeste had been very active of late, their messages mixed and unclear.
What are you trying to tell me?
* * *
The Lu Ketchner Gallery was a fortress against storms. Originally a bank in the Greek revival style and built of sturdy stone and stucco, its location on High Street also offered the advantage of a higher elevation, protecting it from rising flood waters. The most important benefit was the powerful generator Lu had had installed to protect the fine art housed in the gallery, which meant it was currently one of only a handful of buildings in town with both lights and air-conditioning.
When I arrived with lunch to feed the police, Lu was flitting around the gallery like a worried hen, moving sculptures and paintings to safer locations.
“They’ll be here soon for a strategy session,” she said while nodding for me to help her move a table. “It’s not that I don’t trust them. But accidents do happen.”
She had every right to be cautious. Lu was gracious and generous, but she had worked hard to build her business and reputation.
“It’s not as convenient, but they could meet out at The Bluffs,” I suggested.
“No, this makes more sense. Besides,” she confided, “I like knowing what’s going on.”
“For once you’ll know more than Evelyn.”
“That will drive her nuts.” Lu grinned mischievously. Evelyn enjoyed having Hilliard House be the hub of town goings-on. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before she pokes her nose in here.”
Not five minutes later, Evelyn was indeed carried in by the wind, along with a woman and three young boys.
“This is little Lucas’s mother, Helene,” Evelyn introduced us. “You remember Nicholas, and the little ones are the twins, Mason and Aiden.”
They were a shell-shocked lot. Helene Kleister appeared dazed, confused, and agitated, and Nicholas looked miserably sad. Only the twins showed any life in their whining, which triggered their mother to snap at them. But who could blame her? She was gripped by the unfathomable terror of not knowing where her son was and the dreadful possibility that he was no longer alive.
My own thoughts were painting unimaginable scenes of the poor child being washed away by the storm—or worse—someone harming him. It would be too much for a mother to bear.
“Why don’t we get you all settled over here.” Lu took the distraught mother’s arm and gently pulled her into a side gallery with a small but plump sofa.
“I brought these along for the boys.” Evelyn told Lu, producing a canvas bag filled with books and puzzles. She added with a wink, “No crayons or markers, though.”
“Bless you,” Lu patted her friend’s arm.
“Have the boys had lunch?” I asked, but Helene didn’t respond.
“I doubt it,” Evelyn whispered, helping me with the basket of food I had intended to deliver to the family.
“I’m hoping peanut butter sandwiches are okay for the little ones.”
The twins were now peering curiously into the basket to see what other treats might be offered. Just then a gust of wind banged the door open again, thrusting Brooks and Daniel into the gallery. They were followed by Jason, Deputy David Bland, and a recently added female deputy, Lisa Kirkpatrick, whom I only knew from seeing around town.
“Can you handle this?” I asked Evelyn, indicating the kids and their lunch.
“Sure thing.” She plunked herself down on the floor with the three boys, encouraging Nicholas to try a bite.
I took a seat next to Helene and touched her arm. She finally noticed me.
“See those people over there?” I pointed to the group gathering around a small conference table Lu had brought out from her office. “They are going to do everything in their power to find Lucas and bring him home to you.”
Helene’s eyes filled, showing her first real emotion. As I stood, she grabbed my hand. “Promise?”
I nodded, knowing I had no right to offer such an assurance. But I also understood what it was like to lose oneself into the deep well of hopelessness, and right now it
was hope that Helene Kleister needed most, and her other three children needed her to be strong.
The gallery door opened, and I followed her gaze to watch as Matthew Kleister struggled against the wind to close it. He swept the windblown hair away from his glasses and searched the room, but when he found his wife, the look that passed between them was far from tender compassion; more like anger, defiance, and reproach. Helene was the first to look away, pulling one of the twins onto her lap. None of the boys seemed to notice their father’s arrival.
I followed Daniel and Brooks into Lu’s office, where they were conferring privately.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“Nothing yet, I’m afraid.” Daniel looked serious. “So far, nobody seems to recall seeing a lone toddler.”
“It was so chaotic that day,” I said, even as I wondered how anyone could’ve missed a three-year-old child walking around by himself. “What does the father have to say?”
Brooks spoke quietly, “The Kleisters feel strongly that it was a kidnapping.”
It’s what Laura had mentioned earlier. “What do you think?”
“We’ve spoken to each of them separately.” Daniel shook his head, and then, “Neither of them have offered much in the way of justification for their theory. Or leads on who might be behind an abduction.”
“Their stories and timing aren’t gelling either,” added Brooks. “Not to mention, there’s been no communication from kidnappers and no ransom request.”
“Matthew’s argument is credible, though,” Daniel said. “The storm and power outages could be responsible for delays in making contact.”
Jason popped his head in. “Everyone’s ready.”
Brooks nodded to Daniel and left Lu’s office. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Before Daniel could follow, I took hold of his hand. “You’re not optimistic, are you?” I said.
“I’m not anything yet—except focused on the work.” His attempt at a smile was bleak.
While Brooks brought the team up to speed, I tried to be unobtrusive as I handed out sandwiches and drinks.
“Let’s make this strategy session quick so we can get back out there searching with the volunteers.” Brooks turned to Daniel and asked, “Have you heard anything from Wes Creed?”
“He’s not answering his phone.” Daniel looked down at a sheet filled with notes. “MIA for two days now. Parents deceased. One sister, no contact information. I asked Johnny’s brother for a list of friends; it wasn’t long, but none have heard from him since last weekend.”
“Apparently, he got into a few scrapes down in Florida,” Brooks added. “Keep on it. We need to find him and determine why he was a no-show and where he’s been.”
“Who is this Creed guy?” Matthew asked.
“A mid-season hire down on the docks,” Daniel told him. “Until yesterday he’s been pretty reliable.”
“Wes is a native of Whale Rock,” David Bland elaborated. “He’s been away for a few years and just recently returned.”
“But if he has a criminal record, he’d be a likely suspect, wouldn’t he?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Brooks cautioned Lucas’s father. “Jumping to conclusions about an abduction, without reliable evidence, puts us at a disadvantage. We are pursuing that scenario, but we have to be open to all possibilities.”
“What about the party house?” Jason asked. “They’ve been the cause of lots of problems this summer.”
Brooks frowned. “It’s doubtful a bunch of rich frat boys would be involved in taking a child. But Sea Breeze is located close enough to The Lookout that maybe they saw something suspicious. Jason, you start rounding up that gang and see what they may know.”
Jason nodded, then turned to Matthew and asked, “Have you had any problems with that group of kids in the cottage below yours?”
“Other than them being noisy? Not really.”
“Not to interrupt,” I said, “but there was a woman looking for someone down at the harbor yesterday morning.”
“That’s right,” Daniel agreed. “She had a photograph of a man she was trying to locate.”
“I saw her too,” said Deputy Kirkpatrick. “I assumed she was worried about the person’s safety with the approaching storm.”
“What did she look like?” Brooks asked.
The deputy paused and looked chagrinned as she answered, “Kind of nondescript. Middle-aged.”
“I saw her too, yet I’m also having a hard time bringing any distinguishing features to mind,” Daniel said, rubbing his head.
“Did you recognize the man in the photo?”
Kirkpatrick shook her head. “Nobody I recalled seeing around town.”
“To be honest, I was focused on getting the boats tied down and didn’t get a good look,” Daniel said, and I could tell by his expression that he was embarrassed to admit it.
“Have your teams ask about this woman, too, while they’re canvassing,” Brooks instructed the team.
All heads turned as the front door crashed open with another forceful gust, propelling Teddy into the gallery.
Brooks motioned for him to join the group. “Everyone, this is Ted Howell. He and a team of divers have been working on the coastal search.”
Both Matthew and Helene Kleister leaped to their feet, their faces stricken.
“The water’s still pretty rough, making progress slow,” Teddy reported. “But so far we’ve found nothing.”
Matthew’s groan of relief echoed through the gallery. All he heard was that they had not found a body. There was still hope that his son was alive.
“Thank God!” Helene grabbed Teddy’s arm and began to sob. The young man looked uncomfortable as he awkwardly patted the woman’s shoulder. Neither of the Kleisters reached out to the other. It was as if a wall of ice stood between them.
I looked over to the boys playing and was relieved to see Evelyn and Lu were keeping them distracted. At least the twins were engaged; Nicholas still seemed to be floating in his own little bubble.
“How much longer will the divers stay today?” Brooks asked.
“Everyone’s exhausted from battling that surf. The dive team leader has called for a rest period. After that, we’ll go out one more time.”
“Don’t take any chances out there.” When Teddy responded with a slight eye roll, Brooks changed tack and asked, “Has your crew eaten?”
Teddy shook his head. “We’ll grab something.”
I picked up the basket I’d brought. “Here, take this. There are plenty of sandwiches and waters left.”
“Thanks, Cass.” Teddy turned to me and said, “Sorry about the wedding.”
I waved it away. “Seems minor compared to a lost child and a dead body found in a dumpster.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” He attempted a smile.
Brooks stood and clapped his hands. “Okay folks, let’s go. We’ve got work to do.”
8
Cassandra
It was well past midnight when Daniel came home, heaving a sigh of defeat.
“Any news?” I quietly asked.
“Nothing.” He sat on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his hands. This failure to find a lost child was weighing heavily on him. “Sorry to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” I raised up and began to rub his back, feeling the tension in his shoulders. “You need to try and get some sleep, or you’ll be useless tomorrow.”
“I know.” He patted my hand and said, “I’ll try.”
I knew he was truly exhausted, for only moments after Daniel pulled up the covers, I heard the deep breathing of sleep coming from his side of the bed.
Early the next morning, I slipped out of bed to fix a hearty breakfast for our houseguests. Shortly afterward I was joined by Laura, who’d apparently had the same idea.
“How’s Jason?” I asked, ripping open a package of bacon as she began cracking the eggs into a crock bowl.
“Tired.
Discouraged. I’m sure they all are.”
“Have you come across any clues in your canvassing?”
“Sadly, no.” A moment later she said, “One weird thing. When I was getting dressed just now, I saw someone coming over the ridge from your family’s graveyard.”
“Maybe it was Christopher out walking Gypsy?” I suggested.
“I didn’t see a dog, and it looked more like a woman.”
“In what way?”
“Just an impression.” She shrugged. “It was still too dark to make out for certain.”
I checked the captain’s wheel clock, a fixture in The Bluffs since my great-grandparents’ era. A few minutes before six. It was strange that anyone, male or female, would be prowling around the Mitchell family cemetery at this early hour. These worrisome thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the first hungry man.
“The smell of bacon is a great alarm clock,” Jason announced with a yawn and a stretch.
Laura got on her tiptoes to give him a smooch. “Did you sleep?”
“Like Rip Van Winkle.”
“Then you have missed twenty years of your life.” Daniel arrived, with damp hair and smelling of Irish Spring.
“I thought he slept a hundred years,” I said while mixing the pancake batter.
“That was Sleeping Beauty,” he corrected.
“You certainly do know your fairy tales.”
“Right now? I feel like we’re living one.” He filled a large mug from the coffee pot. “A grim one, no pun intended.”
This cast an even more somber mood on the group. Soon after the eggs were ready and a large stack of pancakes had been set on the table, Daniel and Jason brought us up to speed on the search and rescue efforts.
“It’s not helping that power hasn’t been restored to most of Whale Rock,” Jason said. “Lots of folks are still out of town.”
“How are the Kleisters holding up?” Laura asked.
“They’re an odd couple,” Daniel answered. “And their stories aren’t lining up. It’s hard to know who to believe.”
“You’d think, with the seriousness of this situation, they’d be completely forthcoming.” Laura wore a look of disgust.
Storm of Secrets Page 5
