by Beth Rinyu
Table of Contents
Her Name Was Annie
Copyright
Also by Beth Rinyu
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Her Name Was Annie
Copyright © 2021 by Beth Rinyu
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Beth Rinyu, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover design by: Amy Queau Qdesign (https://www.facebook.com/groups/1746943402255030/?fref=nf)
Editing by: Lawrence Editing (https://www.facebook.com/lawrenceediting/)
Proofread by: Judy’s Proofreading (https://www.facebook.com/judysproofreading/)
Formatting by: C.P. Smith
Also by Beth Rinyu
The Exception To The Rule
Drowning In Love
Blind Side Of Love
An Unplanned Lesson
An Unplanned Life
A Cry For Hope
A Will To Change
Easy Silence
When The Chips Are Down
Two Of Hearts
Straight To The Heart
A Right To Remain
Keepin’ The Faith
Thursday Afternoon
When Autumn Ends
Miss Demeanor
I’ll Be Seeing You
The Night We Met
The People We Meet Along The Way
Find Beth on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/BethRinyu/)
Join Beth’s Reader Group (https://www.facebook.com/groups/615284398516306/)
Chapter 1
November 2019
THE WAVES PUMMELED the shoreline like a scorned woman taking out her frustrations on an unfaithful lover. To say I knew how that ocean was feeling at that moment wouldn’t have been a lie. Ashamedly, I had let out my own frustrations a time or two in the same manner. Time had moved on, and my heart should have as well. But every now and then, I’d reserve a pity party for one with a bottle of wine on the beach that held so many memories.
The stilted house that sat behind me had been built by my parents when I was a little girl. My mother and I spent every summer in that home. Long, happy days on the beach, making sandcastles and playing in the waves, then staying up way past my bedtime. There wasn’t a care in the world back then. It was a tradition I had continued with my own daughter, hoping she had formed the same sense of solace I had growing up. Those fond memories of summers gone by were now just a flicker of happier times I would never get back.
Lifting my wineglass to my lips, I took a long, slow sip of merlot, savoring the soft, sensual texture as it slid down my throat. A squall of air shot down the beach, blowing the sand like a storm in the desert. A strand of windblown hair stuck to my face, dampened by the misty salt air, as I gazed up at the ominous sky, watching the dark clouds move at warp speed overhead. It was an eerie sight, like a scene from a movie where the world was about to end. Was it a sign or just my feelings at the moment?
There was no doubt, the anniversary of today was a hard one for me to face, but lately it seemed as if every day was getting a little harder to get through. Time was moving on whether I liked it or not, and just when I was starting to get back in this game of life, the rules were changing once again. My baby was a senior in college, and I had celebrated my forty-eighth birthday a few months ago. The dating pool was slowly drying up with most men in my age group either looking and acting like old men, married, or even worse yet—never been married, which always led to the question of “why?”
I had found out the answer to that question more than my fair share of times. Either they were egotistical playboys who still had the mindset of a twenty-year-old and preferred the company of much younger women, or they were much too set in their ways to even entertain the idea of a woman changing things up on them. I had been in one serious relationship and a few casual dates since Jack and I had divorced, not because I really wanted to, but because I felt like I needed to do it to prove I had moved on.
The only person I was fooling was myself because after eight years of being divorced, I still felt stuck in a world that wasn’t mine. I had always had my daughter, Kara, to keep me busy and keep my mind from wandering to places it didn’t want to go, but now she was away, just beginning her life, which gave me more time than I needed to delve into my head.
I picked up the bottle of wine, pouring myself another glass. Grabbing a handful of sand in my fist, I sifted it through my fingers while sifting through the years gone by like a movie in my head. Jack and I had been high school sweethearts. My parents always thought I could do better, but their opinions were no match for young love. We married shortly after we graduated from college, both fortunate enough to land jobs in our respective career choices right away. Me as an elementary school teacher, and him in law enforcement. Fast-forward twenty-five years, and I was still working at that same school I started at. Some of my very first students were now married with children of their own, while Jack had moved himself up to the upper echelons of the FBI.
Life always seemed to work out that way. It was always the woman who sacrificed everything. I never regretted one moment of not trying to advance my career to become a guidance counselor or a school administrator like I always said I was going to do. Once Kara came along, she became my world, and any thoughts of career advancement halted. She wasn’t planned, but she was the best detour my life could’ve ever taken. I had the perfect setup; my mother would watch her as a baby while I was at work. I had all the major holidays off and summers to spend with her. What more could I ask for?
The entire time I was pouring myself into motherhood, Jack was giving every ounce of himself to his career. Maybe I had made it too easy for him to do. Always being the one keeping everything perfectly balanced in our life. It was something I came to accept, knowing it went hand in hand with his job, but in the interterm of trying to be the best mother and understanding wife, I lost a piece of myself.
I saw all the red flags of a troubled marriage long before the final nail was put in the coffin. We had drifted further and further apart. Instead of facing our problems together, we went at them alone—or shall I say, I did. Jack tried to tackle it as a team, but I just pushed him away. I tried telling myself things would get better—I would get better and put our marriage back together, but when I met her, I k
new that would never be a possibility any longer.
We were at a work party for Jack, I had just turned forty and was feeling insecure in that fact alone, but when I saw her, that insecurity skyrocketed to a whole new level. Super skinny, brunette, blue eyes, perfect hair, perfect teeth, and at least ten years my junior—and Jack’s. He introduced her as his colleague, Charmaine. My sixth sense kicked in immediately, and I knew she was much more than just a colleague. I had never forgotten the look on her face when he pulled me close and kissed me on my cheek in front of her. It was as if he were cheating on her with me and not vice versa.
I still to this day don’t know why he did that. Was he trying to make her jealous or was he trying to convince himself that he was still in love with me? When we got home that night, I thwarted his attempts at sex and finally confronted him about it. After a poor attempt at denying it, he came clean, swearing to me that it only happened once and it was me he loved. But it was too late, my trust had been broken along with my heart. He moved out the next day and our divorce had become final a few months after that.
I shook my head, fighting off the what-ifs. What if I had gone to see a counselor like he had begged me to do? What if I had taken him back during his many drunken midnight attempts at my doorstep? It was all in the past now. I’d always have a place in my heart for him as the father of my child, but I’d also have the memory of him being a cheater marked in my mind.
As the first drops of rain fell from the clouds, I took that as my warning to head inside. I picked up my wine bottle along with my glass and stood up, sucking in the cool, salty air one last time. Wiping the sand off my backside, I focused my attention toward the water, catching a glimpse of a man walking along the edge of the ocean. Even from a distance, I could sense he was deep in thought. I eyed him up keenly, ignoring the raindrops pelting me in the face. He tilted his head back, looking up at the sky, then turned around in my direction, seeming to be as focused on me as I was on him. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look, but it was useless. He had turned away, then took a few wary steps into the water.
What is he doing? It was mid-November. The water was freezing, not to mention the incessant warnings of the approaching storm and riptides.
“Hey!” I shouted, but it was useless. My voice was no match for the powerful waves or the roaring wind. My eyes darted up and down the beach to see if there was someone else with him, but it was deserted. “Hey!” I bellowed once again, dropping my wine bottle and glass in the sand, taking double strides toward the water as the man submersed himself farther and farther into the depths of Mother Nature’s wrath. “Mister!” I screamed, standing at the edge of the ocean as the cool mist from the water shrouded my face. Stepping in farther, I stopped once the water hit my knees, soaking right through my sneakers and saturating my jeans. I remained steady on my feet, battling with the ferocious undertow as I searched amongst the relentless white caps for a sign of him, but he was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared—swallowed up into the depths of the ocean as if he’d never even existed.
Chapter 2
DARKNESS HAD FALLEN, and the rain was coming down in sheets as I stared down at the beach area from the kitchen window. The beach was lit up by massive spotlights and an array of red and blue flashing lights from the emergency vehicles. The last two hours had been spent answering questions and brewing pots of coffee to take out to the police officers and the volunteers searching for the mystery man in the sea. I said a prayer they’d find him, but knew the chances of him being alive were less than favorable, given the current conditions. Who was he? And what on earth could have been so troubling that he’d take such drastic measures? I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. What if I had seen him sooner? Could I have talked him out of it?
“Steph.” An all too familiar voice broke me from my trance.
“Jack.” I turned my attention from the window to face him, catching a small glimpse of the man I once loved so much under the five o’clock shadow he was sporting. “What are you doing here?”
“Kara called and told me what happened. She was worried about you and asked me to stop by.”
Dammit, Kara! Why did I even call her and tell her? She had far more important things to worry about than her mother witnessing a stranger taking their own life. I knew the answer to that question all too well, because ever since my mother, who was my confidante, passed away, Kara had taken her place. “Well, she shouldn’t have bothered you with such foolishness. It’s all under control.” Stopping by for Jack meant driving over an hour from his office to the beach house.
“What happened?” He raked his hand through his dirty-blond, tousled hair that camouflaged his grays so well.
“I don’t know. It was all so fast. I was sitting on the beach, and when I stood up to go in, I saw him. I screamed out to him. I even raced down to the water to try and stop him. I went in as far as I could, but it was too late.”
“You went into the ocean during a nor’easter?”
“I-I…” I shook my head, only then realizing how foolish that was of me.
“What were you doing sitting on the beach in this weather?”
I didn’t like the accusatory tone he was taking with me, as if he was questioning a suspect instead of someone he knew more than half his life. “I was just sitting on the beach…thinking. Is there a crime in that?” My reply was sharp and defensive.
“No.” He shook his head and walked over to the same kitchen window I had been staring out of just moments ago. “Were you drinking?” he asked as his eyes shifted from the kitchen window to the empty wine bottle on the counter.
“Why the hell is that any of your business? Am I a child now who’s not allowed to have a glass of wine?”
“It looks like you had more than a glass,” he said, picking up the empty bottle.
“You know what? I don’t need you to come here to check up on me, and I sure as hell don’t need you to lecture me. Don’t you have someplace more important to be or someone more important to do?”
“Damn it, Steph, grow up!”
“Oh, I did grow up a long time ago. It’s you who seems to think you’re perpetually twenty-one.”
He let out an exhausted breath and inched closer. “You witnessed something major. If they don’t find a body or even if they do, there’s going to be a lot of questions for you, and if you were impaired in any way, that’s going to make a difference.”
“What? So what are you saying, I imagined the whole thing?”
“No, that’s not—”
“Excuse me.” The police officer who I had been talking to earlier interrupted. “I’m sorry. The door was open and—”
“It’s fine. Did you guys need more coffee?” I asked.
“No, we’re good. I’m Detective Lansing.” He introduced himself to Jack.
“Jack McGuire, Stephanie’s husband.” Jack extended his hand to the detective.
“Ex-husband,” I muttered under my breath.
“What do you know so far?” Jack asked.
“Oh, sir, with all due respect, I’m not at liberty—”
Jack reached into his pocket and flashed the detective his FBI credentials, and it was like some secret code that instantly caused the detective to spill his guts.
“We’ve got guys searching three to four miles up the beach. With the tide being the way it is, we’re thinking the body may wash up somewhere around there. We did find this in the sand.” The detective held up what appeared to be a necklace. “Does this look familiar to you?”
“No, I never saw it before,” I said once I got a closer look at the gold chain containing a heart-shaped locket with the name Annie inscribed on it.
“We’re not sure if it came from the victim or if it was dropped by some other passerby on the beach. We’re sending it to the lab for any potential prints, but it’s doubtful because of all the elements outside,” the detective explained.
“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you’ll be able
to get something out of it,” I remarked.
“Ms. McGuire—” the officer began.
“Stephanie,” I interjected.
“Stephanie, do you remember anything about what this man looked like?” he continued.
“I really don’t. I saw him from a distance and his back was toward me. He was tall. He was wearing khaki pants and a green jacket. His hair was…” I paused for a moment, trying to remember the color. Everything happened so quickly it was hard to remember. “His hair was a little on the longer side…dark?” I posed that last fact more like a question instead of a fact. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could be more help.” I sighed in frustration.
“It’s fine,” he replied half-heartedly as he swept the area with his eyes. “I’ll keep you posted on any new developments,” he directed his conversation to Jack. As he hesitantly turned to exit, he spun back around to face me. “Stephanie, forgive me for asking this, but you weren’t taking any medication or anything else that may have altered your memory, were you?”
I glanced at Jack’s poker face, which wasn’t giving me any indication of how to answer him, so I went with the truth. There was no crime with having a glass of wine. It wasn’t as if I went out and drove afterward, causing an accident. This man decided his own fate, and it just happened to be in front of me when he did. “I had some wine,” I answered.
The officer scratched his head. “How much would you say?”
“I don’t see what you’re getting at here.” My tone rose in defense.
“Steph, just answer, please,” Jack murmured.
“I don’t know, maybe two glasses.” I stretched the truth a little, but how dare he come into my home and accuse me of any wrongdoing when I was just sitting on the beach minding my own business? “Look, I know what I saw, so if you think a few glasses of wine is enough to make me hallucinate, then I don’t know what to tell you. Do your job, and you’ll see I was right.” I shook my head in disgust and headed into the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, raking my hand through my hair, relieved when I heard the front door close.
