Buried Secrets

by Kate Anslinger

  “Really, so when did you last see Surfer Steve? I’ve been trying to track him down to surprise Mark with some lessons, but I can’t find him for the life of me.” The irony wasn’t lost on Grace. She knew exactly where Surfer Steve was: dead, but nobody else seemed to know that except Miriam.

  “Gosh, it’s been friggin’ years since I last saw that dude. He was always coming and going, though. Like he was awesome working with kids, but I think he always wanted to be some famous marine biologist, like the Crocodile Hunter of the sea or some shit. Guy was ballsy enough for it. He used to have us time how long he could stay under water and he’d do all these flips off the dock. Crazy dude but he knew how to handle youngsters.”

  The statement wasn’t lost on Grace considering Stephen Cassidy may very well be Annabelle’s killer, or at least one of the suspects in her murder. Was he so good with kids because he had to be to lure them in?

  “Wait a minute, are you guys talking about the Cassidy who used to work at the New England Aquarium?” Lieutenant Sullivan asked, finally showing some interest in the conversation.

  “Yeah, yeah…I think he worked there, I remember he used to try to get us to go on field trips with him there. Looking back, it sounds kinda creepy but to us, it was no big deal because Surfer Steve was basically like a big kid.”

  Grace thought about all the pedophile profiles she’d researched in the past and how they all looked like fairly normal people you would see in grocery store aisles or on town committees. All the bios she had reviewed doing research on sexual offenders made these criminals look like your average Joe.

  “Now I know why the name sounds familiar. I’d say just about two years ago…it was the summertime, I remember,” Lieutenant Sullivan, rubbed his chin thinking intently. “Someone called and started to file a missing person’s report on someone named Stephen Cassidy, but I remember when I asked if the guy had been missing for 24 hours, the person on the phone just kind of stuttered and hung up. It was weird, but at the time I thought it was just some kids messing around.”

  “Was the person a male or a female?” Grace’s wheels were spinning but she tried her best not to show it.

  “I honestly don’t remember, but I do remember I thought whoever it was sounded young, which led me to believe it was a kid playing a prank. I’ve been at this department for over thirty years and I’ll say the majority of missing person cases that come in are pranks. You’d think with all the activities these kids are signed up for these days, they’d be too busy to prank.”

  “So, do you think he was really missing?”

  “Listen, Stephen Cassidy was always missing… He was always packing up and going on these adventures to remote parts of the world, most of which involved water, so if he was gone for 24 hours at any given time, I wouldn’t be alarmed,” Officer Lucerto said nonchalantly as he tossed a tennis ball in the air. Grace made a mental note to check the recorded line later. She’d have to go back two years, but maybe the pranker’s voice would give her a clue.

  “Gotcha…so I probably won’t have a lot of luck tracking him down for sailing lessons then, you think?”

  “His sailing days may be over, but who knows, he could show up at the club and lead a herd of kids through lessons and nobody would think much of it, ‘cause that was Surfer Steve.”

  “Well, thanks guys, I’m headed out on a date,” Grace felt compelled to make sure they were aware that she had a life outside of her job.

  “Oh yeah, where you crazy kids headed?”

  “Well, the date is actually with Barb, and we are gonna throw back some coffee at the Depot.”

  “Even more wild than I predicted. Tell that feisty red-head I said hi. We’ll just be sitting in here defending the town from crime.” Lt. Sullivan leaned back in his chair and raised the volume on the TV back to full force.

  Sunday morning at the Bridgeton Coffee Depot was packed with the usual crowd. A group of women in workout gear had two tables pushed together at the center of the café. They chatted animatedly about the torturous bootcamp class they had just taken, still high on endorphins. The owner’s father sat at a table in the back corner, in deep conversation with a town council member. Gossip spread rampantly in this town, and most of it could be picked up between the four walls of the local coffee shop. All Grace had to do was sit at a corner table and she could get the latest updates on the Housewives series, straight from the mouths of a group of older ladies who came for their weekly gossip session. Anything going on in politics could be heard with a shift in the seat or by leaning back slightly to overhear a conversation about who was doing what in town hall. Grace stood in the line that was three moms and two toddlers deep. A little girl scooted on her bum along the shelf that displayed a selection of learning toys. She turned when she heard the door shut and started scooting over to Grace in a swift movement, one hand planted on the ground to assist her bum scoots across the floor. Her delicate features were framed by light brown hair that looked as if it had been gently curled on the ends. The line of moms in front of Grace seemed blind to the escaping baby, who stopped right in front of Grace and tilted her head upward, displaying a pair of big, round, blue eyes and an impish grin. She tugged at the plastic thong on Grace’s flip flop, and Grace looked around to be rescued by a parent. Not knowing what to do in the presence of babies, she was even more taken aback when they touched her. Should she just stand there and let the baby touch her foot or alert a parent?

  “Well, looks like babies love you, Princess.” The sound of the door opening sidled up by Barb’s voice made Grace feel like she’d been saved by the bell.

  “Either that or she likes other people’s feet?”

  “Look at those eyes, she’s looking right at you, Princess. Maybe that’s a sign that you and Marky need to start getting busy, if ya know what I mean.” Barb bumped Grace’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, okay…you just go grab that seat and I’ll get our drinks. What do you want?”

  “It ain’t no Dunkins, but I’ll take a plain hot coffee with extra cream and extra sugar.” Barb stepped over the baby as if she was just another piece of furniture in the way.

  “Oh my goodness…Charley Joe! I’m so sorry…did she bite you?” a woman exuding a considerable amount of energy bounded toward the baby. She bent down and scooped the baby up in one fluid motion, planting her on her right hip which appeared to jut out naturally as a seat built for tots. “I’m so sorry…ya look away for one second and these kids are off and running, well in her case…scooting. Did she bite you? She’s been biting these days and I just don’t know what to do about it anymore.” The woman brushed back a loose strand of highlighted brown hair that had escaped the messy bun planted effortlessly on top of her head. A pair of friendly, brown eyes matched the natural smile that sprung across her face, and a smattering of freckles were sprinkled purposefully across her nose and along her cheeks. Grace felt awkward, having never actually been in a conversation about a child, let alone one who bit. She didn’t know kids actually bit people until now.

  “No, no she was fine.”

  “Seriously, I’m so sorry. Can I get your coffee for you? Let me buy you a muffin—Anna, add whatever this girl is having to my order,” the girl yelled to Anna, who was deep in conversation with another mother in line. She looked up, confused. “What do you want, Beth?”

  “Whatever this girl is having, add it to my order!” she shouted before being pulled aside by a little boy in a crouched walk, leading her in what appeared to be a dinosaur parade. He grabbed onto her skirt with one hand and kept the other close to his body as he erupted in a series of T-Rex growls.

  If Grace had been stumped by how mothers kept their patience and managed life before she entered the coffee shop, she was even more so now. By the time she reached the front of the line, she felt exhausted from merely watching the moms being tugged in different directions and receiving so many demands at once.

  “Detective, what can I get ya?” Anna stood behind the register, read
ying herself for another order.

  “I’ll take a hot coffee with extra cream and extra sugar, and then my usual,” Grace said proudly, as if one of her goals in life was to have a designated drink that the staff of an establishment knew to prep for her the moment she walked in.

  The mom group had thinned by the time Grace got her coffee and made her way to the corner table where Barb was making small talk with a couple sitting beside her.

  “Meet my friends, Phyllis and Bill. We were just chatting about the troublemakers in town.” Barb waved her hand toward a couple sitting in a table pressed against the wall. A woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a well-manicured face smiled and waved. The man sat cross-legged, and looked up between bites of a bagel, greeting Grace with kind blue eyes.

  “Barb, have you lost your mind? We know who she is. You’re that lady detective!” Phyllis slapped her leg with a polished hand and nearly fell back in her chair. “I was just talking to Bill about you. It’s about time a woman is in charge over there.”

  Grace let out her usual humble giggle as she slipped into the seat across from Barb. The woman wore a tasteful perfume and looked near Ellen’s age, which brought Grace a wave of emotions. Phyllis seemed to have it all together, with perfectly pressed clothes in line with the styles for her age. She seemed sharp and quick to react, a trait Grace was starting to notice more in older adults as Ellen’s slowly disintegrating memory became more apparent.

  “So, what’s up?” Barb pulled Grace out of her sadness. “Let’s be honest, Princess, you don’t usually call me up and ask to meet for coffee on a Sunday morning. What’s going on? Marky treatin’ you right? Better not be messin’ around with you or I’ll put him in one of my famous chokeholds.” Barb maneuvered herself in the seat so she was hunched over, mocking a wrestling move.

  “Mark is great. I just had a question about prank callers.”

  “Prank callers?” Barb took a sip of her coffee. “Jesus H… This coffee is fricken’ hot!” A stream of liquid dribbled down her chin onto her bright yellow shirt, leaving an obvious brown blotch.

  “Yeah, like when we get prank calls at the station. What happens with them?”

  “Well, um…when I get them I usually get really pissed off and aggravated and hang up the phone. Is there a new law where we are going to start arresting these assholes now? ‘Cause I’m totally on board with locking up the jerks who fake emergencies.”

  “No no, I was just curious. Just following up on a case and I was hoping I’d be able to listen to some of the past prank calls.”

  “Sure, you can do that, just check out the old recordings. There is a stash of cassettes in the basement. Do you have a particular date in mind?”

  “Yeah, I do…June 16 or 17th of 2016,” Grace said, confident that this was the prank’s accurate date range considering it was the night of the sailing gala two years ago, when Lottie saw Miriam walking a drunk Michael down the dock and onto his boat. She hoped the voice on the other end of the line would drum up some familiarity or at least give her some of the caller’s traits.

  “Okay, well, that’s helpful.”

  “May be pretty boring listening to all of the tapes, but a hell of a lot better than having to go through months of them.” Barb leaned in close to Grace. “Listen, Princess, I know you’re a hard worker and I know you sometimes pick cases apart a little more than you’re required to, so I’m not gonna ask any questions about this weird obsession with a prank call from two years ago, but just do me a favor, don’t burn yourself out, and don’t ruin that relationship you got going because of work. Mark’s a good guy, keep him around if you can.”

  “Yes dear.”

  “So, with that said, want to go to the station and look through those tapes? I ain’t got nuthin’ else going on today, except maybe swinging by Dunkins and getting a real coffee.” Before Grace could answer, Barb pushed herself up from the table and started walking toward the door, tossing her coffee in the trash along the way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Grace followed Barb through the station’s front door, past the control room where a shift changeover was taking place, and down the stairs to the basement. With her signature confident walk, Barb led the way to a closet tucked between the sole jail cell and the old fitness center. Boxes were stacked on top of one another, the years scrawled in messy, black permanent marker.

  “Ha…2016…here we go!” Barb slid a box over, creating a staircase to reach for the one labeled 2016. The masking tape label, peeling up on the edges, nearly fell off completely when Barb pulled down the box and tottered toward a place to set it.

  “You said June, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was June.”

  Barb started digging around in the box, loosening a layer of dust that made its way to Grace’s nostrils, causing her to let out a loud sneeze.

  “Aha! And to think they only pay me to be admin in this joint? Look at this detective work!” Barb jumped up, blew the dust off the cassette and handed it to Grace like it was an award.

  “Thanks, detective.” Grace grabbed the cassette, pulling it into her chest like it was a lifeline.

  “Oh, wait, you’re gonna need something else…” Barb returned to the closet and rummaged around until she laid her hands on a cassette player. “Here, can’t get too far on your prank call quest without this.”

  “Thanks, Barb, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “Remember that when I need something next time, okay, Princess?” Barb hefted the box up off the floor and waddled toward the closet to return it to the stack.

  “If you ever ask for help,” Grace teased. Barb was known for her stubborn nature which made her a hell of a worker, but she had major qualms about asking people for help. She always told Grace that she was a lone wolf. The oldest of seven children, Barb took on the parenting responsibility at a young age, when her mother was too drugged up to take care of the kids. Barb grew up real fast, which was probably why she never wanted kids of her own.

  Just as Grace was about to shut the door to her office and close herself in for some alone time with the cassette player, Barb poked her head in.

  “You need any help, Princess?”

  “Um, well…” Grace, overcome with sympathy, found herself inviting Barb to help her out. “Sure, if you want to listen to a bunch of old phone conversations.”

  Grace knew Barb didn’t have much of a social life outside the station and that all of her siblings had families of their own, so she felt compelled to let her tag along.

  The woman was loyal to a fault and Grace could trust her to not share anything about her odd interest in these tapes. She’d just have to figure out what to tell Barb if she asked any questions, knowing that keeping it too secretive would only look more suspicious.

  Grace slid the small tape out of the case and stabbed several buttons on the player.

  “And this is why you need me.” Barb leaned across the desk, pulled the player towards her, and pressed one button. The player sprang to life. She took the tape from Grace and slid it into the compartment. Within seconds, beeps and the voice of a frantic child sounded through bouts of static. “Do you know the gender of the caller you are looking for?”

  “Nope, I just know that call most likely came in on June 16, 2016. “

  “There are an awful lot of sixes in that date, you lookin’ for the devil, Princess?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay, let’s fast-forward a little. These usually start at the first day of the month, but depending on how busy the month is, we could be here for a while.”

  “Well, I know it was Lt. Sullivan who took the call, so maybe that will help.”

  Barb pressed the fast-forward button two more times before they heard Lt. Sullivan’s familiar accent. “Bridgeton Police Department, Sullivan.” His brusque voice came across the line, followed by a conversation with a strange female voice.

  “Hi, I, um…I’d like to file a missing person’s report…”

  “
Okay, I need the name, date of birth and gender of the person.”

  “It’s, it’s Stephen Cassidy, male. I’m not sure about the birth date; I think he’s about 55 or 60, maybe.”

  “And how long has he been missing?”

  “Um, like um…maybe five hours.”

  “Okay, ma’am, you can’t file a missing person’s report unless the person has been missing for 24…”

  Lt. Sullivan was abruptly cut off by the click of the phone followed by a dial tone. “Ma’am, ma’am…”

  “Well I think we have your answer, that was the only missing person’s call placed on June 16th.” Barb leaned back in her chair. “Is that the answer that you were looking for?”

  “I know that voice, I know it. I just can’t figure it out right now, and it’s driving me crazy. That woman’s voice is so familiar, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

  “Alright, so let’s play the name game honey. This is when you pick apart all aspects of your life and you think of every single person you may have encountered in the past week, whether they are a close friend or the lady ringing you up at the drug store. So, you ready to play?”

  “Sure.”

  “Let’s start with this weekend. What did you do and who did you see?”

  “Well, I went to the sailing gala at the yacht club last night.”

  Barb rolled her eyes the second Grace said yacht club. Having grown up in the rough areas of Boston, Barb had no tolerance for the snobs who frequented the yacht clubs in the small town of Bridgeton.

  “I’ll let it slide this time, but don’t expect me to not make fun of you the next time you run with those uppity people.” Barb sat upright and shook her head daintily, making the universal gestures associated with snobs. “So, who did you see there?”