Welcome to the Punkhorns (Shepard & Kelly Book 1)

by Benjamin Bradley

  He choked, coughing up water that burned his esophagus with every heave. Casper turned and saw Delaney tending to Jared, who was conscious, lying on the beach with his eyes closed. Hector sat on the rocks above, laughing like a hyena.

  “You’re laughing?” Casper shouted in between desperate breaths.

  Hector grinned and said, “Happy to be alive, man. Thanks to you.” Seawater dripped from his brow as he stared out towards the vast ocean before them. The smile seemed to grow with each passing moment.

  Casper stumbled over to join Delaney, Hoagie and Jared on the beach. Hector followed once he’d caught his breath. Once Jared awoke, he and Hector grabbed one another in a long hug. Delaney took ahold of Casper for the same. Hoagie snuck his tongue in between them and gave Casper a few grateful licks on the face. Casper ran through every possible line he’d ever heard in any romantic movie, book or TV show, but nothing seemed to fit. Instead, he just held her tighter and soaked up the moment.

  “I was worried about you,” she whispered in his ear. “I thought you might end up as a ghost after all.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Casper laughed and hugged her tighter. He kissed her cheek, and she nestled her head into his collarbone.

  Sirens wailed in the distance as the four sat, soaked, covered with sand. Pure exhaustion from the thrill of the near-death adventure seemed to set in like a fog following a storm. Slowly and then all at once. It was minutes before anybody noticed that the rain had stopped.

  Once Chief Slimmer arrived, Hector and Jared explained that Renard had led them into the cave at gunpoint. He had explained to them in a rage-soaked voice that the tide would have its day and drown the two men without anybody ever knowing a thing or finding their bodies. They said that Renard confessed to them that he’d killed his wife because she was a ‘cheating whore’ and that they’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time when they got lost in The Punkhorns. They had stumbled out into the clearing where Renard was trying to dig up his wife’s body to move it before the developers came through.

  “Any idea where he went?” Delaney asked with hopeful eyes.

  “No clue. I’d guess he’s since left town though,” Jared added.

  Delaney sighed. Casper knew she was hoping for closure, but it seemed it would have to wait for another day. She turned to Casper with a smile. “There is a small bit of good news in all of this, you know?” she said.

  “What’s that?” Casper asked.

  “Now we know the Punkhorns aren’t home to some body-snatching spirit that lurks in the darkness. It’s just pranksters and bastards that we need to watch out for in Brewster.”

  Casper grinned. “You guys should add that to the Welcome sign up by the highway.”

  Delaney stuck her tongue out at him and nudged him with her shoulder. “Let’s get off this beach. Dry clothes sound like heaven right about now.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Saturday, August 11th

  Casper had never seen human bones before. It was especially jarring to see remnants of clothing that still clung to the ivory fossils that they had found in the Punkhorns. Jared and Hector had retraced their steps from their fateful walk to the best of their ability, but it took a small search team to locate any sign of recent digging. Eventually, they found a shallow grave that had been covered without much care or effort.

  “I’ll bet he planned to come back out and move the body after he took care of Jared and Hector but didn’t account for the search crews that would be combing the area,” Delaney summarized.

  “Seems that way. I guess he left town before his past could catch up with him,” Casper replied. Delaney nodded; her gaze fixed on the grave before them.

  The events at the cave hadn’t relieved Casper of his crippling fears, but it woke something inside of him that had been dormant for most of his life. He felt a sense of calm as he watched the medical examiner, borrowed from the mainland, extract the bones of the woman from a shallow grave. Months ago, the very sight of a hand-dug grave would have put Casper on the ground with an overwhelming fit of paranoia. Instead, he stood and watched. He tried to name the feeling he now had, but every word fell short. The closest he could think of was purpose, but he felt that was a bit too cheesy to say aloud to Delaney.

  The pieces weren’t difficult to put together, but the team confirmed that the body belonged to Cheryl Renard. There was no big announcement or press release. Nobody was flown in to identify the body or forced to reckon with the fact that their beloved was now just buried bones. The remnants of clothing that clung to some of the skeleton was enough to allow for preliminary identification. Dental records soon confirmed it. The town mourned for the woman that they’d thought had escaped long ago to greener pastures.

  Javier Ruiz searched Renard’s shoddy cottage as they extracted Cheryl’s remains from the ground. Ruiz had offered to let Casper tag along, but the idea of Renard’s cramped quarters still rattled him. Instead, Casper stepped into the thick, eerie forest that the townsfolk had conspired to protect. He wondered if they’d have done the same if they knew the damning secrets this land held and the perilous events that would follow.

  He caught Delaney staring up at him and looked back. He almost spoke. Instead, he looked back down at the grave and reminded himself that a crime scene was no place to ask a woman to dinner.

  The storm had passed and the hunt for Tommy Renard or any clue as to where he might have headed was on. The search had been handed off to the FBI and Brewster PD would soon be left without a stake in the case. That is, besides assuring the remaining residents that the safe, idyllic nature of the town would remain intact. Delaney had joked that she hoped the ‘missing murderer’ angle would drive away some tourists during next year’s busy season.

  Later in the day, the coroner was able to share a preliminary report that indicated blunt force trauma was the diagnosed cause of death. The chief and others concluded that Renard had found out she was leaving him, and he erupted like a volcano. After all, his temper was no secret around town. Casper remained shocked that Renard would live within shouting distance of evidence which would put him away for life. The assumption was that Renard had grown paralyzed with fear of the consequences and decided instead to protect the land. That worked out for a while, or at least until Baxter Construction came calling.

  Baxter’s Resort would have unearthed the burial site by the end of August. It was smack-dab in the middle of the location of their proposed spa and swimming pool. Renard had decided to move the body before construction started. It was amazing to Casper that if he had just chosen a different night, perhaps even one night earlier, Renard would be a newly minted citizen of some other town. Townsfolk would have brought fruit pies and casseroles to welcome their new neighbor without ever knowing that he was a cold-blooded murderer.

  Cold-blooded may not actually have applied to Renard, since it was unclear if he planned his crime to begin with. Either way, he was a killer. He’d brought harm to a town that just wanted to quietly live out their days by the sea. There was no room for him in Brewster, even if he hadn’t committed such heinous crimes. In that moment, Casper had realized he’d grown to have an affinity for the little town in the crook of the Cape.

  Chief Slimmer pulled Casper into his office just after the coroner shared her results. He’d assumed it was to discuss a plan of action to pursue Renard, but realized it was about something else when Delaney wasn’t in the room too.

  “Casper, we need to come to an agreement,” the Chief said. “An agreement that will please both this town and the taxpayers who had their money wasted by a wild goose chase in the Punkhorns looking for people who weren’t missing.”

  Casper nodded in agreement.

  “This town doesn’t need pranksters who waste the authorities’ time. No, sir,” the chief rose from his chair. “But we also don’t need more people in jail. Plus, that’s a lot of paperwork that I don’t have the time nor the patience to do. So, I’m going to ask you once and only once
. Who was your source inside the conspiracy?”

  Before Casper could respond, the Chief interrupted. “You won’t share? That’s too bad. Guess I’ll have to close this case and walk away for a while,” Slimmer said, grinning.

  Casper nodded in understanding. “It’s my pleasure to be of service. Please give me a call if the department needs my services on any case in the future,” Casper added.

  “I hope that never happens, but I appreciate it nonetheless,” Chief Slimmer said as he shook Casper’s outstretched hand.

  FORTY

  Monday, August 13th

  Casper finished zipping up his bag and looked again at the small cramped basement apartment that he’d called home for the past week. He had done his best to make the bed and leave no trace of his visit behind, but worried that it may be more polite to strip the bed so they could wash the sheets. He knew that the Pecks wouldn’t blame him one way or another. These were good people, even if they had their flaws.

  Ann stepped downstairs as he was tucking in the last corner of the comforter. She handed him a copy of his book.

  “We’re so grateful for your time here. I hope you wouldn’t mind signing this for the library? I felt bad asking when you did your reading.”

  He smiled. “I’d be glad to. Should I make it out to Ann, or…”

  “Brewster Library would be great. We don’t need to use my name. I’m not sure it’ll be worth much around here once news breaks.”

  “I think you’ve got a group of loyal citizens. I don’t think word will get out as easily as you may think,” Casper said, taking the pen from Ann and scribbling a message in the book.

  Ann took the book back and held it against her chest. “I have to ask, Casper. Did you tell them it was me?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t see the benefit in that. I told them I heard from a spirit,” Casper cackled. “But really, I told them I couldn’t explain it. I just had a hunch that those two were not part of the plan. Can I ask you a question?”

  Ann’s warm smile shined in the damp basement. “Thank you, Casper. You can ask me anything you’d like.”

  “I get how you orchestrated all of this. It’s impressive. Truly. But what I’d love to know is… where’d you think of this whole scheme?”

  Ann pointed to her bookshelf. “Books are magical if you see them as an escape to another world. You can learn whatever you want from non-fiction, but I’ve found fiction can often open up the creative side of your brain. So, I simply borrowed a few ideas and combined them. The Drowner helped me navigate the waters. In it, a murderer waits below unsuspecting swimmers and snatches them underwater. I just borrowed the idea. Nobody suspects a drowning victim.”

  Casper chuckled. “I assume that there’s a positive review of that book somewhere in those journals?”

  “I’d say it’s mixed. I think it was brilliant in how it used the ‘accidental death’ to create a near-perfect crime. But its brutality and anger pushed me away. We need more peace in this world, not more anger.”

  “Okay, I lied. One more question.”

  Ann beamed. “Anything.”

  “Why’d you do it? Seems like a lot of risk for little reward.”

  “Casper, I couldn’t sit idly by and watch these events unfold and destroy my husband, my town, and my land. I’ve stood in the background for too long. I saw a moment to make a change and went for it. Even if nothing changed, I knew I’d be glad that I took the chance.”

  “And the land? What’s going to happen to the Punkhorns after all of this?”

  “Peter has a potential deal with the Conservation Corps and the Sierra Club to help transition the land to a state park. I don’t know if anybody is ready to hike those trails just yet though.”

  Casper was surprised to hear such good news. “And Baxter? Went away without a peep?”

  “Oh, he’ll peep. But I think he’s lost credibility around these parts and Baxter as a company needed to save face with the New England community. I doubt we’ve heard the last of him, though.”

  Casper pulled his bag from the bed and the weight slumped his right arm down. “I’m just glad Rachel Spokes got out while she could. I hope she’s doing okay.”

  Ann pulled a postcard from her back pocket. The front had an incredible wide-frame photo of Machu Pichu in the midst of mountains and miles of trees. She held the back up so Casper could read. “Gracias! - RS” was all it read.

  Hoagie came bounding down the stairs with a stuffed penguin in his mouth; his floppy ears bounced with each step. Ann’s face lit up as she crouched down and gave Hoagie a hug. “Don’t tell Casper, but I’m going to miss you most of all.”

  Casper pretended not to hear her but whispered, anyway. “He says he’ll miss you too, but he’ll see you around town.”

  The first semblance of an autumnal breeze passed through Casper’s hair as he loaded his suitcase in the back seat and waved goodbye to Ann Peck. He checked his phone to see the time and made a quick detour before meeting up with Delaney.

  The turnoff that led to Tommy Renard’s house had been driven more times in the past forty-eight hours than it had in the past few years. Tire treads were outlined in the sandy soil, and small puddles lingered in their wake. Casper stopped the car but watched from his driver’s seat.

  Peering out the front window, he considered how close they’d come to Tommy Renard. When they were close, it wasn’t because he was a suspect, but Casper felt a sort of confidence from the gut feeling he’d had that Tommy was off in some way. He took the artist angle and ran with it so far that folks just blamed it for his odd behavior. Casper wished he had a chance to find him before he hurt somebody again. The search had been fruitless thus far and Casper had little expectation of a happy ending.

  Casper drove down Run Hill Road and then turned left onto 6A, passing the old mill on his left. He passed the Brewster Store, the stone churches, the Brewster Coffee Shop, and turned off by the Snowy Owl. Delaney leaned against her cruiser, parked just outside the bakery’s outdoor seating area. She smiled as Casper’s old car approached and slowed to a halt. Hoagie pushed his snout through the cracked rear window and let out a whine.

  “Find the place, okay?” she asked.

  “Sure did, Del,” he teased.

  She stuck her tongue out at him and then leaned in for a hug. Casper’s mind raced, but instead he chose to enjoy the touch of his best sidekick to date. Although, in Casper’s mind, he was the sidekick. Actually, maybe they were both just sidekicks to Hoagie.

  “You gonna let Hoagie out, or is he upset about the decision to stick around Brewster?” Delaney joked.

  “He’s mad at us because we didn’t listen. Apparently, Hoagie knew it was Tommy Renard the entire time.”

  “Silly humans, always overthinking things,” Delaney teased.

  They walked over to the car together and opened the door. Hoagie rushed out and zoomed past them both toward the patio of the coffee shop. Once he had successfully received individual attention from each patron, he bounded back over to Delaney and Casper.

  “So, here’s the key. Betty over there is the owner, and said you can stay as long as you want, so long as you don’t mind the smell of coffee in the early morning,” Delaney led Casper to the narrow staircase as she spoke. Hoagie took the lead and sprinted up the stairs, stumbling on a few of them.

  The tight corridor aside, Casper was thrilled to see an open floor with tons of windows letting in the bright, early morning sun. Hoagie sniffed at the corners and then returned, a bounding ball of joy aimed at Casper and Delaney. The place was perfect. Casper had been surprised when Delaney offered him a place to stay for a while, but didn’t question a good thing. He was just glad they allowed dogs.

  “There’s a small desk that I brought up from storage. The bed isn’t great, but it’ll do. We’ll find you some other furniture in time, if you decide you like the place. Hoagie, let me know if you need anything. I hope I see you around a bunch!”

  “Perfect. I like i
t already. Thank you again,” Casper said. “I, er, think I’ll stick around for a while. Maybe write a book about our last case. Maybe just float from room to room and haunt people.”

  Delaney cackled. “Oh, so now you’re a ghost? Embracing the name for once?”

  Casper stared at the intelligent, strong woman in front of him who was smiling like she’d won the lottery. He felt the corners of his mouth push further up to his cheeks than they ever had before. Uncharted territory in more ways than one.

  “Well, I guess I do have unfinished business here after all.”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The incredible amount of support that I received throughout the many months spent writing this story has left me humbled. I’m truly overwhelmed by the community around me and am grateful to each person that played a role.

  First, thank you to my parents for reading an early draft, providing feedback and for a safe place to stay during a hectic pandemic summer. Their warm, inviting home actually sits next to the Punkhorns and many walks with Kyle and Kelsey on those grounds inspired the ideas that preceded this page. A special thank you to the legendary Joanne Slimmer for sifting through an early version. So thankful for you and all of your feedback!

  To my immediate family team of Megan, Harper and Fox: Thank you for your patience and being willing to hear out each and every wacky idea that crosses my mind. I couldn’t ask for a better sounding board. Harper, thanks for always pushing me to take a walk too!