Death on Shorewatch Bay

by Mark Stone

  “My God, Cameron,” I said.

  “I wasn’t on them when I won the gold,” he added quickly, shaking his head. “It’s important that you know that. The gold was all me. It’s just . . . I started to slow down. They all said I was getting older. They were acting like my career was behind me.”

  “Everybody gets older if they’re lucky, Cameron,” I said.

  “Tell that to my bank account and my agents,” he replied. “All I wanted was to stay relevant. That’s it. I didn’t figure it could hurt anything. You hear stories all the time about everyone doing it. So, I figured if everyone was doing it, then I should be able to do it too.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the way things work,” I said.

  “It isn’t, but like I said, they weren’t supposed to be able to find it,” he said. “You know who did? Ellis Winters.”

  “My God,” I said.

  “There was a sting operation, and she found out. We had history, though, and she agreed not to say anything if I gave her some info on a couple of starlets I had dated in the past. She also made me bow out of the last Olympic games. She didn’t want to be liable if the truth came out somehow. I had debts, though. I didn’t spend my money wisely, and it’s catching up with me. That’s why I’m working on the beach now. It’s also why I was so quick to add myself to your list of accomplishments recently. I wasn’t kind to people when things were going well. I didn’t make a lot of friends, if you can believe it, and nobody is willing to take a chance on me. I figured if I could change the narrative about myself, if the public started seeing me as this larger than life hero, then companies would have no choice but to give me endorsement deals and all that. I could finally make some money again.”

  “You could have also just made money through a job, like a normal person,” I suggested.

  “I’m not a normal person, though,” he said. “You don’t see Michael Jordan flipping your hamburgers or Tom Hanks filling out paperwork at the DMV. I can’t just go back to a normal life. The only reason I could even do the lifeguard thing without being a total laughingstock is because it fit a theme. I’m using my skills to be a real-life hero.” He looked mournfully at his shoulder. “And now I won’t even be able to do that.”

  “I’m sorry this happened to you,” I said. “You might not believe that, but it’s the truth. I’m not sure whether this means anything to you or not, but I’m going to find out who's responsible.”

  “You mean you don’t think a kid who can barely string two sentences together without using the word ‘like’ a dozen times is capable of sticking a timed bomb into a camera?” Cameron asked with mock shock on his face. “Yeah. Seems like the cops in this town are just as ineffective as they were back when we were in high school.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Nothing,” he murmured. “Nothing at all. Listen. The truth is that I don’t give a damn about whether you find who actually did this. Word is that the police aren’t connecting what happened to us during the interview with Gina’s death, anyway.”

  “That’s ridiculous. They’re obviously connected,” I said.

  “Like I said, the police around here aren’t the best. The point is, I never understood the need for justice when it doesn’t change anything. I’m screwed no matter what happens. My arm is shot, my career is over, and no amount of some loser paying for that is going to change it.” He shook his head slightly. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve been a saint either. Maybe this is karma. Maybe I deserve it.”

  I wondered if this was about to be the moment when Cameron finally admitted to what he did to me, that he finally fessed up for running me over all those years ago.

  “I get where you’re coming from, though. If the kid didn’t do this, and we both know he didn’t, it’s not right for him to rot in jail because of it,” he said. I guess it wasn’t the time for confessions after all. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

  “I’m going to get to the bottom of it,” I answered, as determined as I had ever been about anything in my life. “I’m going to make sure that the person responsible pays for what he did.” Walt’s face flashed through my mind as I spoke.

  “I was hoping you would say that, and maybe I can help you out with that,” Cameron said.

  “I think you need to rest and conserve your energy,” I suggested.

  “You think I want to play Hardy Boys with you, Chase?” He scoffed, snickering at me. “I didn’t mean I was actually going to go investigating. I meant I was going to give you some information that might help you out.”

  “Oh,” I replied. “I’m all ears.”

  “A few weeks before the party, the one where you punched me out with that cheap shot,” he started.

  “I remember,” I said. “And I’m not sure ‘straightforward’ can be considered a cheap shot.”

  “I had dinner with the mayor,” Cameron continued, ignoring me. “He was really excited about my coming to the beach and the sort of news coverage that might bring. I went to the bathroom and pretended to get lost. I actually just wanted to get a look at the house. Anyway, I ran across Gina and she was on the phone. She was screaming at somebody, saying that she didn’t take kindly to threats.”

  “What?” I asked. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “Tell you what? That someone was threatening her?” Cameron asked. “You already knew that. That wasn’t news to anyone.”

  “Then what is news, Cameron? Why are you telling me this now?” I asked.

  “Because you said it was a man,” he replied. “You said you would find him.”

  “So?” I asked.

  “I heard a few seconds of Gina’s conversation,” Cameron said. “She called the person on the other end of the line a bitch. She said she had dealt with women like her for her entire life. The person Gina was talking to was a woman. I guarantee it.”

  While this didn’t really mean Walt wasn’t responsible, it did complicate things, and it gave me something else to deal with.

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding at Cameron and turning to walk away.

  “I really didn't do it, you know,” he said in a tone, broken and sincere, that stopped me in my tracks.

  “Cameron,” I growled.

  “I know you always thought I did, and I guess you always will,” he said. “Part of me doesn’t blame you for that. I was never completely honest with you about what happened, but the truth is, it wasn’t me. Look closer, Danny. Just, if you can, look closer.” He took a deep breath. “If I could, I’d tell you everything, but none of this is mine to say.”

  I started walking toward the door again, and without breaking stride or turning back to the man, I answered him.

  “Shut the hell up, Cameron.”

  30

  “I appreciate r meeting me here,” I said, sliding a cup of coffee across the table toward the woman. She took it gratefully, cupping it with both hands and giving me the sort of closed mouth meek smile people give you just to be polite. It made sense. Given all she had been through, she probably didn’t feel much like smiling. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to meet me, what with all that’s happened.”

  Rachel McClear nodded at me, wiping under her right eye and pushing the coffee away untouched.

  “Not a fan of Joe?” I asked, eyeing the cup.

  “You put cream in it. I’m a vegan,” she explained.

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I said and stifled myself from shaking my head the way I always did when someone told me they were vegan or whatever. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate people’s right to do what they wanted with their lives. It was just that a good steak or a massive cheeseburger was one of life’s great pleasures, not to mention the mounds of fresh seafood you could get around these parts, and it seemed weird to me for someone to deny themselves that pleasure. But hey, to each their own.

  “It’s okay. Most people don’t ask,” Rachel said, shrugging and brushing some bangs
out of her face. “And of course, I’d meet with you. In fact, seeing how much Gina thought of you, you’re one of the only people I would meet with now.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I know she was like a daughter to you,” I said, taking a drink of my own coffee and studying the woman’s face. There was a flicker of hurt that ran through her eyes, and though I had no doubt that the relationship between her and Gina was genuine, I still couldn’t quite read it. There was something guarded about the look on her face as well, like she was trying not to say something important.

  In all honesty, that’s why I was there. Though I was pretty sure I knew who was responsible for Gina’s death as well as why he hadn’t been arrested for it, I needed to uncover every stone if I wanted to save Brick. This started on the beach, and it led to a party where Abby told me she had reason to believe this Rachel woman was responsible for trying to murder Gina. Gina was dead now, and if I added the fact that Cameron said Gina was fighting with a woman a few weeks before she was murdered, it became a string of evidence that I wouldn't just let sit uninvestigated.

  “She was a very special girl, but you know that, don’t you, Mr. Chase?” Rachel asked, looking deeply into my eyes. “She was fond of you, even though she didn’t know you all that well. Gina was like that. She was a trusting soul right up until the moment people gave her a reason not to be.” She shook her head. “Sometimes, she was even trusting after that moment. I guess, in a way, that’s what got her killed.”

  “What do you mean by that, Ms. McClear?” I asked, taking another sip of my coffee, cream and all.

  “I mean, she obviously was a very open girl. In the past, we would have had another less kind word for it, but we are where we are, I suppose,” she answered.

  “You’re saying she was easy?” I asked. “Kind of closed-minded for a hippie, don’t you think?”

  “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” she replied. “I also didn’t call myself a hippie, but that’s beside the point. The truth is that Gina was the kind of woman she was, and just because I didn’t think it was anything to be ashamed of doesn’t mean it didn’t come with risks associated with it. She made friends easily, gained lovers even easier. Though, I guess that’s not something I need to tell you.”

  I shook my head and huffed. “I wasn’t Gina’s lover,” I said. “I saved her life a couple of times, and she asked me for help. I like to think we could have been friends if she’d have lived, maybe even more than that, but who knows? Still, the truth is that there wasn’t anything deep to my relationship with the woman.”

  “There wasn’t anything deep to any of her relationships,” Rachel said. “She was all about the physical, all about the moment and the party and the next selfie she got to take on her phone. I warned her about that. I used to tell her that if she didn’t open herself up to people, she’d end up old and alone like me.” Rachel took a deep breath, her voice cracking as she continued. “I guess I was wrong about that.”

  “I’m going to be honest here with you, Ms. McClear,” I said. “Just from this conversation, I can’t tell if you loved Gina or if you just loved judging her.”

  The clouds in her eyes intensified, storming over. “I wish I were still young and stupid enough to believe that one could exist without the other,” she said. “Judging her doesn't mean I didn’t love her. It means exactly the opposite. I wanted what was best for her. I wanted her to have a good life, to live in a way that she would find fulfilling and joyful. I even thought she had found that with that Walt boy, but I guess it wasn’t to be. Still, when she was with him, it was the closest to being a full-fledged grown human being that I had ever seen her.”

  “Walt Jermain?” I asked, my eyebrows arching. “She had a grownup relationship with him. I thought he was an abusive bastard. Isn’t that why she broke up with him?”

  “He wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t abusive,” she said. “He stole some groceries on a dare or something. He might have even spray painted a building. I’m not sure. Whatever it was, her father went insane over it. It ruined everything, poisoned everything.”

  “I’m gonna say it was poisoned well before that,” I said. “What with the letters he sent her and stuff.”

  “Letters?” Rachel asked. “That boy never sent any letters.”

  “He did. Gina told me he did,” I said.

  “Really?” Rachel said. “That surprises me. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who could string two sentences together, let alone a series of letters.”

  “They weren’t kind letters,” I said.

  “Even more surprising then,” she mused.

  Before I could dig any further into that, my phone started to ring. Looking down, I saw that it was Jules. “Could you give me a second?” I asked, looking back up at Rachel. “I’m sorry. It won’t take long.”

  “No problem,” Rachel said, nodding at me and waving for me to go ahead.

  Standing, I walked toward the door of the coffeeshop and answered the phone.

  “Jules, hey,” I started. “Can you give me a second? I’m in the middle of questioning Rachel McClear, and I’m thinking she might be able to help me prove that Walt was responsible for Gina’s murder.”

  “Sure, I—wait,” Jules said. “Walt didn’t kill Gina, Danny. He couldn’t have.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked, stepping outside and onto the packed Florida street.

  “Well, because he was with me,” she said, a catch in her voice as she admitted something she probably didn’t want me to know.

  “What?” I asked, tightening the grip on my phone as people walked back and forth around me. “What the hell do you mean when you say you were with him?”

  “Exactly what I said, Danny,” she said, sighing loudly. “Look, it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Not that big of a deal?!” I said. “He’s a killer, Jules. He murdered Gina, and I don’t want you anywhere near him!”

  “You don’t know that!” Jules yelled at me. “In fact, I know that he didn’t because like I said, he was with me. And excuse me, Danny, but you don’t get to tell me who to be around. You don’t own me.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to center myself and keep calm. “I never said I owned you, Jules. It’s just that when I asked you to meet up with Walt and ask him out, it was under the assumption that you didn’t actually, you know, fall for him.”

  “Who says I fell for him?” Jules said. “I’ve seen him exactly twice. We didn’t get to have our date and he surprised me at my house. It was sweet.”

  “Your date was a sham! You were never actually supposed to—”

  “Hold on,” Jules said, cutting me off. “What was that?”

  “What was what?” I asked, taking a few steps away from the door. “Is Walt with you now?” The idea made me physically sick. Though Jules told me that there was no way Walt could have killed Gina because she was with him at the time of the murder, I wasn’t ready to give up on my thoughts. Though I knew Jules to be a truthful person and was inclined to believe her in this, there was still so much that I couldn’t piece together, so much that led me to believe Walt had to be the person responsible.

  “No,” Jules said. “I’m in my house all alone. Or at least, I should be.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, and then a loud crash sounded from the other end of the phone.

  “Jules!” I shouted, my heart leaping into my throat. “Jules, get out of there now!”

  “What do you want?” Jules screamed on the other end of the phone. “Get out of here!”

  “Jules, run!” I said.

  Then, a second later, Jules screamed and the phone went dead.

  “My God,” I muttered, and without another thought, I hauled ass toward my car, knowing exactly what I needed to do.

  31

  Screaming into my phone, I flung the stupid thing into the windshield of my car. For the fifth time in as many minutes, Jules didn’t answer. My foot pressed as hard as it could down against the ac
celerator, sending my car’s engine shaking with speed. Still, as fast as I was tearing down the Hollywood streets, it couldn’t hold a candle to how fast my heart was whipping back and forth in my chest.

  The events I had just lived ran through my head on some sort of horrible, agonizing loop. I was standing there on the street, trying to reason with Jules about how dangerous Walt was, and then someone was in her house. She was in danger, she screamed like a banshee, and then she was gone. The phone cut off and that was the last I’d heard from her. Though that whole thing had been no more than seven or eight minutes ago, it felt like it had been years. Each second that passed was an eternity of worry.

  I called the police, of course, and they assured me they were on their way. They told me they would handle whatever was going on at Jules’s house. I couldn’t just stand there, though. I couldn’t just let this woman, a woman I had known my entire life and who meant as much to me as anyone in the world, go through something horrible without at least trying to get there, without at least attempting to be there for her.

  I took a quick turn off the main road and down the first of three lefts I would have to make that would lead me to Jules’s house. Though when we met up, we usually did it at my place, I knew this home and how to get to it like the back of my hand. It was the same house Jules and Nate grew up in, the same house I’d spent every summer of my damn life in, hanging out with my best friend and trying to grow up as quickly as humanly possible. To think that something horrible could happen to Jules in that house, that she might even meet her end in a place that had seen so much of my life’s joy, seemed unfathomable to me.

  Instinctively, my foot pressed down even harder on the accelerator, so much so that the engine skipped. I needed to go faster, dammit. I just had to get to her in time, and I had to pray that it wasn’t already too late.