Afterglow

by Christy Barritt

  This was really happening. They were looking for answers.

  Maybe Rachel would finally have some peace in her life. Maybe.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grayson and Rachel stopped by the Lantern Beach police station the next morning after breakfast, only to discover they’d had a turnover in staff. Everyone from two years ago was now gone.

  The current police chief was a blonde woman named Cassidy Chambers. She didn’t look much older than Rachel, but her eyes held both a competence and a compassion that made Grayson instantly feel a level of respect.

  “I’m sorry,” Chief Chambers said. “I wish I could help, but I’ve only been here a year. If you want to talk to someone, go to the town’s administration offices and see if Mayor Mac McGowen is available. He was formerly the police chief on the island. Not two years ago. Chief Bozeman was here then. But Mac always keeps up on what’s going on here in Lantern Beach. He’ll probably remember.”

  Grayson nodded and thanked her.

  “I hope you find the answers you’re looking for,” Chief Chambers said.

  He hoped they did also. Earlier this morning, he’d called one of his contacts who could access cell phone records. As a favor, Grayson asked him to look into Mark Murphy’s phone records from two years ago. Rachel’s name was also on Mark’s account, it turned out. Mark had had trouble paying his bills once upon a time, and so she’d been added.

  Grayson’s friend said he would see what he could find out.

  Wasting no time, they headed to the town offices. Thankfully, former chief of police and newly elected Mayor Mac McGowan was available.

  They stopped in front of his open office door just in time to see a man in his late sixties practice drawing his gun and pointing it at a paper cutout of a man that had been taped to his wall.

  He straightened when he saw them and put his gun away, not looking embarrassed as much as amused.

  “Well, hello there. Come on in.”

  They stepped inside, as directed.

  “What can I help you with?” Mac asked, sitting behind his desk and looking more like a wilderness instructor than a mayor in his khaki shorts, white button-up top, and boots.

  At his instruction, Grayson and Rachel sat in the chairs across from him. Grayson glanced at his wife before taking the lead and explaining the situation to the mayor.

  As Grayson spoke, Mac nodded and grunted, listening until the end.

  “I actually do remember that case,” he finally said. “I wasn’t police chief then, but I like to monitor things that are going on here on the island. We do have several drownings here on Lantern Beach every year.”

  “So why do you remember this one?” Grayson asked.

  “Great question.” Mayor Mac leaned back in his chair, puckering his lips with the thought and tapping his fingers together. “I always thought this case was strange. The fact that no body washed up was even stranger. I mean, usually when there’s a drowning, the body will turn up eventually—generally up north because that’s the direction of our ocean currents. But there was nothing on this one.”

  “Is that the only thing you remember?” Rachel asked.

  “Of course, rumors were flying all over the island. Was this a case of one lover killing the other? A suicide after a bad breakup? Or an accident? Nothing made sense, no matter the angle or the facts.” Mac shrugged.

  “You’re right that things didn’t make sense,” Grayson said. “I know there are speculations and rumors swirling about my wife’s involvement, and I’d like to put an end to that.”

  “That’s honorable.”

  “Did you have any more insight on the case?” Rachel asked. “You’re a seasoned law enforcement professional. What’s your opinion?”

  He let out a long breath. “Honestly? The whole thing bothered me. Can I speak freely?”

  “Of course,” Rachel said.

  “Let’s say you had a fight, he stormed out of the house and went to the beach. What if he wasn’t pulled out by the currents? What if he came back to the house and that’s when the blood appeared? What if you did kill him?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I’m just hashing out the different theories here,” Mac said. “Even if you had, what would you have done with the body? He was bigger than you. I doubt you could have dragged him outside all by yourself. Plus, there was no evidence of blood in your car. And your cell phone pings showed you were at the cottage up until the time you went searching for him.”

  “That’s right.”

  “There was no bloody clothing, no weapon . . .” He shook his head. “I just don’t know.”

  “What’s this all boil down to, in your opinion?”

  Mac locked gazes with them. “I don’t know. But I don’t think you killed him, Rachel. Everyone wants a scapegoat, but there’s just no evidence that says you’re guilty here. And as for suicide, like I said, no body was ever recovered.”

  “Thank you for that insight.” Grayson shifted. “Just one more question. Do you know anything about Mark’s brother moving here to the island?”

  “Bruno? I’ve talked to him a few times. He likes to keep to himself. Honestly, he’s not here that much.”

  “Where does he go?” Rachel asked. “Do you have any idea?”

  “From what I hear, he takes jobs for three or four months at a time, always out of town. I can’t remember what he does. Maybe he’s a consultant or something.”

  “That sounds vaguely familiar,” Rachel said. “Thank you for your help.”

  Mayor Mac nodded. “Good luck finding answers. And if I can help anymore, please let me know.”

  “What now?” Rachel asked Grayson. They paused outside the town offices, the early summer sun beating down on them harshly and the humidity soaking them like liquid air.

  She watched her husband’s face as the studious look appeared. He was really taking this seriously. It wasn’t the way she thought she’d spend her honeymoon, but answers—closure—would be nice.

  “Where did you go while you were in town?” he asked. “What businesses did you look into?”

  “We talked to someone who made cakes out of her home. Actually, we didn’t talk to her, but samples were sent to the wedding planner for us to taste. The same for the sample bouquets of flowers. Honestly, most of our business was done with the wedding planner.”

  “You had a wedding planner? But you’re so organized.”

  “It wasn’t my idea,” Rachel told him. “Mark didn’t want me to get too stressed out. He thought hiring someone would help.”

  “What’s this wedding planner’s name?”

  “It was . . .” Rachel thought about it for a moment. “Her name was Venus Lawson.”

  “Venus? That’s unique.”

  “She was unique. Very flamboyant. She’s one of the best on the East Coast.”

  “But she’s located out of Lantern Beach?”

  “She has an office here, but my understanding is that she has offices in more than one state.” Rachel shrugged. “Honestly, when news spread the next morning about what had happened, Venus was the first one to show up at my doorstep and give me a shoulder to cry on. It really meant a lot to me.”

  “I wonder what the chances are that she’ll be here?”

  “Let’s go find out. I think I can find her place.” Rachel quickly did a search on her phone and found the address. It was on the boardwalk.

  They pulled up ten minutes later to a neat storefront. The office building was covered in some kind of white clapboard with gingerbread molding and lots of cheerful plants outside.

  Another wave of nervousness washed through Rachel.

  What was Venus going to say? How would she react to seeing Rachel?

  She had no idea. But she was about to find out.

  They walked up to the door and saw a “out to a late lunch, will return at three” note taped on the door.

  Grayson sighed. “Listen, maybe we should we grab a late lunch as well? Then we’ll come back
afterward.”

  Rachel released her breath, happy to delay the potential unpleasantness. “Yes, that sounds great.”

  But, as she said the words, she turned.

  Someone was watching her. Rachel felt sure of it. She could feel the unseen eyes on her.

  But who was it? And why?

  Chapter Twelve

  Holding Grayson’s hand, Rachel stepped inside the office of wedding planner Venus Lawson, moments after the newlyweds had finished their late lunch of seafood chowder, salad, and crusty bread.

  A teen sitting behind a desk there smiled up. “Good afternoon,” she said. “How can I help you?”

  Rachel cleared her throat. “I’m hoping to talk to Venus. Is she in today?”

  “As a matter of fact, she is. But she only sees people with appointments.”

  Her stomach sank. “I see.”

  Well, they’d tried. Rachel guessed it was time to move on.

  Grayson stepped forward. “We’re hoping she might make an exception for us. Rachel is a former client, and we have to ask her about something timely.”

  The girl frowned and nibbled on her bottom lip. “She usually doesn’t make exceptions—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, the door beside her desk opened.

  Rachel’s eyes widened when she saw Venus step out.

  The woman was as flamboyant as ever with a bright coral suit, big blonde hair, and entirely too much makeup. Though she wasn’t much older than Rachel, she had a sophisticated air about her that made her seem far more advanced.

  “Oh, my goodness. If it isn’t Rachel Mills.”

  “It’s actually Rachel Stewart.” She held up her hand.

  Venus gasped and walked over to Rachel, grabbing her hand and staring at the ring there. “Well, that’s just beautiful, and he’s just handsome. I’m so glad you were able to bounce back from what happened.”

  Rachel nodded, her throat suddenly burning as memories flooded her.

  “Now, what brings you back here?”

  Rachel exchanged a look with Grayson. “I’m actually trying to find some answers.”

  Venus blinked, her mascara thick and her eyelashes thicker, giving her an overblown expression. “What do you mean, sweetie?”

  “I never felt like I had any closure with Mark,” Rachel said.

  “You mean, because they never found his body?”

  Rachel nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Well, I’m real sorry his body was never recovered. You don’t think you’re going to come into town and find it now, do you?”

  Rachel almost laughed. “No, of course not. A few things have just never added up for me and . . .”

  Venus waited, nearly leaning toward Rachel with anticipation.

  “And we just wondered if you remembered anything particular that Mark might have said during the time they were here, anything to indicate something strange was going on,” Grayson stepped in and said.

  Venus tilted her head. “Despite what others may have speculated, I believe that he was cooling off and then got pulled out to sea in a rip current. I’m not sure what you’re getting at here.”

  “We’re just concerned and wondered if there was more to the story,” Grayson continued.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say.” Venus looked at the ceiling for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. “I’ve done a lot of weddings, and yours was going to be so nice, Rachel. I think it’s tragic what happened, but maybe instead of looking into it, you should let it go and enjoy your marriage. We can’t undo the past, and I’m so sorry for your loss. But I can’t think of a thing.”

  Rachel nodded quickly. “Right. Of course. I’m not sure why we came here.”

  She turned to leave. As she did, Grayson took her elbow, holding her steady, as if he sensed how lightheaded she felt.

  “Thank you for your time,” he told Venus.

  Coming here had been the worst idea of her life . . . again.

  “That woman couldn’t have been cheap,” Grayson said as they climbed back into their car.

  “She wasn’t,” Rachel said. “Like I said earlier, I didn’t even think we needed a wedding planner. I guess my family is kind of old school in that way.”

  “That surprises me. I mean, they hire landscapers and cleaning services for the home.”

  “I know. But they don’t believe in putting more money into a wedding than into the marriage. That’s how they accumulated their wealth, you know. By not wasting money but investing it.”

  “Sounds wise.”

  “Yes, but Mark really thought we should go all out for the ceremony. It was going to cost close to fifty thousand dollars in the end.”

  “That’s a lot of money. You could put a nice down payment on a house for that kind of cash.”

  “I know. And the sad part is that we had to put either deposits or total payments on most things. My parents lost twenty thousand just on that. I told them I’d pay it all back, but I haven’t been able to yet. My current job doesn’t pay the best.”

  “But you’re doing good work.”

  “Thanks. But the money situation is just one more reason I was glad that you didn’t want anything fancy for our wedding—just a few friends and family.”

  “I can’t believe you lost that much money,” Grayson said.

  “I know. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about it.”

  “Did you talk to the various businesses and explain what happened? I can’t believe they wouldn’t budge.”

  “Venus talked to some of them, and a few gave a little bit back. Honestly, it was just one more stressor on top of the grief of losing Mark and then being examined by the police.”

  “I understand.” Grayson paused. “What do you say we clear our heads a bit. We can take a walk and then get some ice cream and think about what’s next?”

  “I say that sounds great.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A couple hours later, Grayson picked up their ice cream from the shop in the distance as Rachel sat at a picnic table and let her thoughts go. Their walk along the beach had been nice and mostly quiet. The sun had begun to set now, cooling the air.

  Right now, she desperately craved comfort, someone who understood and sympathized. Despite Grayson’s compassion, she felt all alone in her distress.

  At that thought, she pulled out her phone and opened her inbox. She stared at it a minute, hesitating, before clicking on one of the folders there.

  She’d gotten some emails from a woman named Maybell Williams starting about a year ago. Rachel had read the first one. Read about how Maybell’s fiancé had left her deserted at the altar. She’d been heartbroken. Then she’d seen an article about Rachel’s ordeal and felt that they might have a mutual understanding of sorts.

  Right about that time, Rachel had met Grayson. So when Maybell had sent her more emails, Rachel had figured that, rather than engaging, she would try and put that part of her past behind her.

  Instead of reading them, she’d started a folder and placed the emails there. She thought that one day, once she was settled and ready for it, she might read what else the woman had to say.

  She assumed the other emails would be details of what had happened and looking for understanding.

  Right now, Rachel could use someone to commiserate with. Her thoughts were heavy with no relief in sight.

  Grayson arrived back at the table with a cup of strawberry ice cream for Rachel and a cone of chocolate for himself. He sat across from her.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, nodding at her phone.

  Rachel stared at the screen another moment, trying to find what she wanted. “I know it might sound stupid, but I got these emails from a woman about a year after Mark died.”

  “Okay. What were they about?”

  Rachel put a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She wanted to enjoy it, but her desire didn’t meet her reality. She had too much on her mind to allow herself any pleasure.

  Sh
e explained to Grayson about receiving the emails and not reading most of them.

  “That’s sad that a man would do that to a woman.” Grayson licked his chocolate cone as the edges began to melt.

  “I know it sounds strange but . . . everything that’s happened since we’ve gotten here has made me curious about her story,” Rachel said. “Maybe I need someone to commiserate with.”

  “Go ahead and read them then,” Grayson said. “What can it hurt?”

  Rachel clicked on the second one Maybell had sent her.

  “I really need to talk to you,” she read aloud.

  Grayson lowered his cone. “What does that mean? It sounds like she needed more than a listening ear.”

  “Who knows?” Rachel continued reading. “‘Listen, I don’t want to write anything through email. But I found out something that you should know. Please call me.’ She listed her phone number.”

  “Maybe she’s off her rocker.”

  “Maybe.” Rachel scanned the rest of the emails. “The rest pretty much say the same. Except for this one. Listen to this. ‘I know something about Mark Murphy that you must know.’ What could that mean?”

  “Maybe you should give her a call, just to satisfy your curiosity.”

  Rachel set her spoon down and glanced at Grayson. “You don’t think she’d think that was weird?”

  “No.”

  Rachel thought about it a moment and then nodded. “Okay. I think I will. What could it hurt?”

  As soon as she said the words, the hair on her neck stood up again.

  She glanced around, that familiar feeling of being watched etching itself into her psyche.

  She turned and peered behind her.

  But there was no one.

  After finishing their ice cream, Rachel dialed Maybell’s number. The woman answered on the second ring, her voice much more normal and pleasant than Rachel had anticipated.

  “Hi, Maybell,” Rachel started. “I know this is probably strange, but this is Rachel Mills. You sent me—”

  “Yes, Rachel. I know who you are. I’ve been hoping you would call.”