“Mom, Willow, and I had been talking for about fifteen minutes when I heard the alarms go off.”
He became aware of Harper’s presence close beside him. Her turquoise eyes were wide and scared. He pulled her into a one-armed embrace.
“Make sure you tell the police,” Dr. Newman said. “I’m sorry about this, Ridge. This will delay getting your dad’s body back for burial. The police will probably order a much more complete autopsy than we might have done in a routine way.”
“I understand.” Ridge thanked him and ended the call. “You got the gist of that?” He didn’t let Harper go. Holding her was a comfort to his hurting heart.
Someone had murdered his father.
She nodded. “I could hear that booming voice of his. We have to find out who attacked me in the water. I’ll bet it was the same person who hurt your dad and then killed him. Maybe he heard Oliver had woken up and had to make sure he didn’t remember.”
“Maybe. I can’t help but think about how Willow and Mom wanted me to turn off the machines. Even though they were with me, they could have hired someone to go in there and administer the drug.”
“They wouldn’t.”
“Maybe not Willow, but I can see Mom making those arrangements.”
How did he go about figuring out the truth? One thing for sure—he wasn’t giving his mother a heads-up that the police were coming.
24
Harper glanced at Ridge from under her lashes. When he’d driven her home, he seemed reluctant to leave. Realizing he didn’t want to be alone, she invited him aboard her houseboat. She’d fixed them turkey sandwiches and a fruit salad, but neither of them had eaten much. Bear had enjoyed the leftover meat.
They sat in companionable silence on the old furniture in her tiny salon. Harper reached for the box of clippings Annabelle had given her and put it on the love seat between them. “I still haven’t gone through this box.”
Ridge capped his water bottle and set it down. “It will occupy us until the police show up.”
“You think they’ll come here?”
“You’re an heir and were close to Dad. They are going to question everyone.”
The thought of being interrogated wasn’t pleasant even though she had nothing to hide. If the police talked to Willow, she’d point them Harper’s direction. She pressed her lips together and opened the box. Empty? She glanced up at Ridge. “Did you put the clippings somewhere else?”
He peered into the empty box. “I didn’t touch them. When did you look in here last?”
“It’s been several days. Someone’s been here while I was gone.” Chills snaked up her back at the thought of someone prowling around. “But why? What could be in here that someone would want? Judy’s murder was decades ago.”
Ridge rose and lifted magazines and shifted items on the shelf before he ducked into her bedroom, looked around, then exited. “They’re clearly not here. Is anything else missing?”
She stood and drifted around the small space. Possessions weren’t something she noticed or cared about. Her six-year-old MacBook Air was still on the floor beside her bed as was her phone. The only necklace she owned was the one she’d made that hung around her neck. The small boom box was still tucked in a cabinet.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t have much, but I didn’t notice anything else missing.”
Ridge dropped onto the love seat. “There has to be something we’re missing in all this. My dad’s murder has to be connected somehow to everything that’s going on—Annabelle’s abduction, the attacks on you, and now these missing clippings.”
“I know neither of us like the thought of coincidences, but maybe that’s what we have this time.”
“I don’t buy it. We aren’t seeing the connecting threads, but we will.”
Headlights swept the room through the bank of windows facing the shore. Harper went out to the deck, and Ridge followed. The muffled sound of doors slamming was followed by the shadowy forms of two people heading toward the pier.
“Who’s there?” Ridge called.
“Police.” A woman stepped out of the shadows into a swatch of moonlight. “Detective Daly. This is my partner, Detective Sanchez. We need to speak with both of you.”
“You want us to come down to the station?” Harper glanced at Ridge for confirmation of what to do.
Daly shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. Yet. We can speak aboard your boat if that’s comfortable.”
“Of course.” Harper led the way into her salon.
There wasn’t much seating, just the love seat and one other chair, so she settled on the floor and pulled Bear onto her lap. “Have a seat.”
Ridge took the chair near her, and the detectives sat on the love seat. In the light Harper got a better look at the two detectives. The woman, Daly, was in her forties with fine lines fanning the outer edges of her eyes. Her blonde hair was in a short, easy care cut that just covered her ears. Sanchez was older with a thick neck and strands of white in his black hair.
Harper’s blood pumped in her neck, and she swallowed. There was no reason to be nervous. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but her assurances failed to settle her agitation.
Daly took out a notepad. “When was the last time you saw your father, Mr. Jackson?”
“Minutes before he died, though I didn’t go into his room. I was standing in the doorway talking to my sister. My mom was in his room when I got there.”
“Staff at the hospital told me you and your sister had words?”
“We did. She said she and my mother thought I should turn off Dad’s life support. I refused because Dad had a living will specifying how he wanted his care.”
“She got angry?”
“She thought I was being unreasonable.” Ridge’s voice was even.
Harper listened as he went through the rest of the day’s events, all the way through his sister’s appearance and her anger at being shortchanged by Oliver’s will. The two detectives exchanged glances when he got to the part about her threatening to get an attorney to break the will.
Sanchez turned his attention to Harper. “When did you last see Oliver, Ms. Taylor?”
“After the hospital called Ridge to let him know Oliver had lapsed into a coma. If you mean when did I last seem him alive and well, it was the day of the accident.” Harper told them how Oliver had come to help out with the pen shell beds but had vanished. “Ridge found him aboard his boat later that night.”
“Someone had cut his air hose.” Ridge crossed his arms over his chest.
“There’s bad blood between you and Oliver’s daughter and ex-wife?” Daly asked.
“Well, not exactly bad blood.” Harper glanced at Ridge for support. “They didn’t like the fact Oliver was a mentor to me. They thought he spent too much time and money on me.”
Daly nodded and put away her notebook. “That’s all the questions for now. We’d better see the rest of the family.”
Harper escorted them to the pier and turned to find Ridge right behind her. His arms enveloped her, and she pressed her face against his chest. How did he make her feel so safe? And when he knew the truth, would this tenuous relationship explode?
* * *
November 1969
Judy dried her hair with a towel and stripped off her one-piece suit. Her muscles ached and she felt off. She hadn’t felt right in weeks, not since he’d left port. No matter how much joy she took in swimming in front of thousands of people a month, she missed him. The Vietnam War raged on, and she worried about his safety every moment, though she didn’t talk about it much. There was too much antiwar sentiment around, and she would suffer no one to disparage Huey for serving his country.
Her stomach gripped her in a sudden spasm, and she rushed for the toilet where she vomited up her lunch of a ham sandwich and chips. She rinsed her mouth and stared at herself in the mirror. Her red hair clung damply to her forehead, and her green eyes were huge in her pale face. How many times had she thrown up this
week? She thought back. Four. Was it the flu?
“You okay?”
She turned to look into Grace’s worried face. The two of them had become good friends in the past three months even though Grace was married. Judy adored baby Silvia who would be three soon, and she babysat her whenever she wasn’t swimming. It helped the time slip by.
“Don’t make a fuss. It’s just an upset stomach.”
Grace stared at her. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
Judy gasped. “Hush now! How could you say such a thing?”
“Are you sure? You have to take a nap every day after our afternoon performance, and you’ve been throwing up. When did you have your last period?”
Three months. The terrible realization drained the blood from Judy’s head, and she grasped the edge of the sink to keep from falling. “I can’t be pregnant.” She forced the whisper out of a tight throat.
“Oh, honey.” Grace stepped to her side and embraced her. “You need to see a doctor and find out. How long has it been?”
“I think it’s been three months.”
Her dad and stepmother would make a fearful ruckus. She pressed her palms to her cold cheeks. “It can’t be true.” But she felt the truth of it in her heart. “I’ll go see the doctor and find out before I tell him.”
“Is it someone from back home? Will he do the right thing?”
Judy shook her head. “It’s someone I met my first day here. He’s in the navy.”
Grace’s hazel eyes darkened. “You know what they say about navy guys—a girl in every port.”
“He’s not like that. It’s not like he’s forgotten about me—he still writes.”
“When did you hear from him last?”
“Two weeks.” She lived for his letters. “Mail takes so long from Southeast Asia though. I reckon I’ll get a letter soon.”
Would Huey do the right thing though? She didn’t really know him all that well, though her heart felt as if they’d been together all their lives. Did he feel the same way? He said he missed her, but what did that mean?
Her stomach clenched again, and she ran for the stall. Squatting in front of the cold porcelain, she wiped her mouth and considered her options. There weren’t many. Who would want to watch a mermaid who was as big as one of the manatees? If Huey didn’t stand by her, she’d have no choice but to go back to Abilene. Her kin would whup her and send her out with her tail between her legs.
She exited the stall and found Grace, deep in thought, standing in the bathroom doorway. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if he disappears and doesn’t help.”
Grace’s full lips flattened into an expression of determination. “I do. You can swim until you start to show, then you can work for me in the office. If you want to go back to swimming after the baby is born, you can do that.”
“You’re the best, Gracie! I’ll still help with Silvia all I can.”
“You think he’s going to come back?”
“I-I think so. I hope so.” What would Huey think when he got her letter? Fatherhood would look good on him, but he might not think he was ready.
She washed her hands and went to lie down on her cot. Several other girls lived here, too, but the rest of them went out with friends or beaus while she fell into bed with exhaustion. That should have been her first clue. She was the only one who had to nap after a performance.
“Get some rest. We’ll talk about this later when we know what he’s going to do.” Grace shut the door behind her, and the room plunged into silence.
Judy groaned and sat up. Her agitation had driven away her fatigue. She picked up the newspaper one of the other girls had left and leafed through it to the society page. Her gaze landed on a familiar face smiling into the camera with his arm around a beautiful young woman with long hair.
She skimmed the article and gasped. This was an engagement picture. The woman was the daughter of a US senator. Marrying her would open many doors for him, and she didn’t think any man would give up that kind of future for a penniless girl with so little sense who found herself pregnant. Tears burned her eyes, and she threw the paper to the floor. How could he? Sobs wracked her as she realized her life wasn’t going to turn out the way she’d hoped.
She gave into the storm of grief for several long minutes, then wiped her eyes and blew her nose before she reached for the newspaper again. It didn’t say when they’d gotten engaged, but it had to have been before he left two months ago. Maybe he didn’t really love this girl and would be willing to break the engagement.
Once Judy knew for sure she was pregnant, she would write him. If that didn’t work, she’d go see this girl and lay out her case. At least there was hope.
25
What was so urgent that Grace had called first thing at six in the morning? When she had gotten up, Harper found a voice mail from Grace who asked her to come see her again. She’d called Ridge, and he said he’d be there soon to go with her.
She unfastened her seat belt as Ridge parked at Weeki Wachee, and they stepped out into an overcast sky. With the news of Oliver’s murder, Harper was ready to occupy her mind with something other than the danger that felt like it was closing in on her.
Inside, Ridge asked for Grace and was directed to an employee door into the auditorium. She was swimming in the springs, and Harper watched her graceful movements as she trained a new mermaid. Her dyed red hair floated in the water as she spun in the water in a mesmerizing movement. The young woman she was training gave Grace a thumbs-up, then swam off to exit the water. Grace saw them through the glass and held up one forefinger before she quickly kicked away to the exit as well.
While Harper waited for Grace, she watched two manatees swim around in the springs. Ridge joined her, and his warm presence calmed her. He’d been quiet since learning of his father’s murder. If only there was a way to comfort him.
He pointed out the bigger of the two sea mammals. “That’s an old manatee. He’s got quite a few boat scars, and his skin is leathery. I’ve seen him before, too, out in the coastal waters.”
“How old?” She loved hearing him talk about his passion for the gentle creatures.
“I’d guess at least fifty years old, maybe sixty or seventy. He’s probably been coming here year after year to shelter from the cold water in the ocean. The last few years Three Sisters Springs has been home to hundreds of manatees through the winter months. Marine biologists have been trying to balance access to seeing them against protecting their well-being. It’s quite a tightrope to walk.”
She watched the manatees lazily swim around and nose along the bottom. “He might have been around when Judy worked here.”
“Maybe. He’s quite a handsome fellow.”
In the old days mariners were said to mistake manatees for mermaids, but she didn’t understand how that was possible. A manatee looked more like the sea cow it was called than a beautiful part-woman, part-fish creature. They were protected, but visitors to the area took guided excursions to be able to swim with them. They were as smart as dolphins in spite of their ponderous movements and small eyes.
The door opened and Grace, her wet hair corralled in a braid, stepped inside. She still wore her modest one-piece bathing suit, and her limbs were as lithe and smooth as a twenty-year-old’s. “Thanks so much for coming.”
Harper stepped closer to her. “You said you forgot to tell us something?”
Grace nodded. “Maybe it’s nothing, but it came to me in the night. Judy said her boyfriend was engaged to someone else, but she was sure once the woman knew about Annabelle, she’d let him go. She was planning to take Annabelle to see her the day before she died. I’m not sure if she went or not. We didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Do you have a name for the fiancée?” Ridge asked.
“No, but her family had money. I told Judy her beau wouldn’t likely be willing to give up that family connection, but she was sure he really loved her.”
“Money.” Harper hid her disappoint
ment. “That could be anyone.”
“This was much more of a backwater in the early sixties,” Grace said. “You might research wealthy families near Clearwater in that decade. It was quite the scene. The Rolling Stones wrote ‘Satisfaction’ in a Clearwater hotel after a performance on The Ed Sullivan Show. They had to cut the concert short to escape the rabid fans. Judy and I were there.” She gave a sigh. “I’ll never forget those days.” Her hazel eyes cleared of memories. “There was record-setting growth in the Tampa Bay area in the fifties and sixties. Land developers made a killing. You might find some leads in history.”
Harper had her doubts, but she nodded. “Thanks so much for your help, Grace. If you think of anything else, let us know.”
Grace smiled and walked to the glass where she tapped on it. The old male manatee swam closer and pressed his snout against the glass on the other side. “This is Roger. He’s been here forever. People come back year after year to see him. He was born here in 1960.”
Ridge peered intently through the glass. “It’s great you know his age. We seldom do. He’s in good shape.”
“He’s a fixture around here.”
Harper turned toward the door. “Thanks again, Grace.”
“You’ll let me know if you find out anything? Not knowing what happened to Judy has been one of the biggest regrets of my life.”
“We’ll let you know if we discover anything,” Harper promised.
Ridge held the door open for her, and she stepped out as thunder rumbled. A hint of ozone in the air warned that a storm was about to let loose, so they ran for the truck. She jumped into the passenger seat as the clouds opened up. Rain battered the windshield and hood as Ridge climbed behind the wheel.
She handed him a napkin from the glove box. “You think her clue is of any use?”
He mopped the rain dripping down his forehead and cheeks. “I know she meant well, but it’s like looking for a specific fish at the reef. I don’t know when we’ll know if we are on the right track.”
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