Picking Up the Pieces

by Maryann Jordan

  Lance’s mosaic had given her the idea to have the children glue pieces of sea glass to frames for holiday presents. The Thanksgiving holiday was coming soon and she knew their long winter break was just around the corner. The children loved the opportunity to decorate their own frame with the beautiful, multi-colored fragments of glass.

  “What’s your favorite color of sea glass, Miss Lyons?” Cindy asked.

  “I love them all, but I have to admit that when I find a blue or deep green one, I feel like I’ve won a prize.”

  “I think they look like jewels,” Ricky added, holding up a piece in his fingers, a wide smile on his face. “It’s like giving our moms jewels for a present.”

  Remembering that Lance also compared the sea glass to jewels, she grinned as she agreed, “You are exactly right. And they will love them. In fact, I found some great sea glass the other day and meant to bring it in to show you, but I forgot.”

  “Did you leave it on the beach?” Caroline asked.

  “No, I’ve got it in my house.” Laughing, she added, “I’ve got lots of sea glass at my house. But, I’ve become friends with an artist who creates beautiful things out of sea glass, so maybe I’ll give more to him.”

  “Can we see the stuff he makes?” Manuel asked, his eyes wide.

  Biting her bottom lip, she wondered if Lance would agree to come visit her class and bring some of his work. “Well, I’m not sure, but it can’t hurt to ask.”

  Lance led Mitch out to his porch, taking the same seats they had occupied the last time he visited. Only this time, he knew he was not here to berate him for being mean to Jade. Settling in the chairs, he looked over at his friend but stayed quiet. He knew Mitch would talk when he was ready.

  After several minutes of enjoying the afternoon shade while staring out over the bay, Mitch caught him by surprise when he asked, “Tell me why you decided to be a cop?”

  While in the Army, the two had shared meals, as well as worked on a few of the same cases, even though they were not assigned to the same platoon. They had clicked professionally and Mitch had been the only person he confided anything about his family to.

  “You fishin’ for something?”

  Chuckling, he said, “I know Ginny mentioned Sam’s imminent retirement to you. Just wanted to get a feel for you, that’s all.”

  Leaning back, he nodded, appreciating Mitch’s honesty. “Loved the idea of being a cop. Hell, growing up, my friends wanted to play video games where they could rob banks and shit. I only wanted to be the cop and catch them.” Sighing, he continued, “I was fourteen years old when 9-11 happened. Sitting in a history class watching the Twin Towers fall. At that moment, like so many others, I saw the world change right before my eyes, and all I wanted to do was to join the military. I talked to the recruiter at school and discovered I could be a cop in the military. My old man hated any talk of me doing anything else but going to his Alma Mater and then joining the family business. You know he cut me off as soon as he found out I had signed up with the Army?” Shaking his head, he added, “He was determined to make me pay for what he considered to be a family betrayal. But my grandfather left me a trust in my own name, so I didn’t need his money.”

  Nodding, Mitch took a long drink of the water he had handed to him. “I had law enforcement in my blood, as you well know. Only thing I ever thought about either, but then it was the only thing I was ever exposed to.”

  “Your dad’s a good man and, I’ve got no doubt, your grandfather was just as good.” He looked over at Mitch, before adding, “You had men in your life who taught you right from wrong, good from bad. The only lesson my old man wanted to impart was how to step on anyone and everyone to get ahead, make more money, and then rule his little kingdom.”

  “I joined out of high school and then did Military Police school. By the time I met you, you were a criminal investigator with CID. I tried to act all badass, but gotta tell you, Lance, I was in awe of your investigative skills.”

  Ruefully chuckling, he nodded, remembering a younger Mitch in the Army. “I was only a year older than you.”

  “I was always glad you answered that email I sent when I decided Baytown would be perfect for some of my old buddies.”

  “Yeah…I went to work in Richland right out of the Army, but it was too soon. I needed…a break.”

  “So, you still need a break? The art you create…damn good outlet and if it’s your next vocation, hey, that’s great. But, we could use someone of your caliber on our staff. And…what you don’t know, besides Sam retiring, is that the city is going for a part-time officer as well. So…if you don’t want full time…” He let the unspoken offer hang in the air as he kept his gaze on the bay.

  Several minutes went by, neither man speaking, letting the whoosh of the gentle bay waves fill the void.

  “I don’t know, Mitch. Part of me thinks the timing isn’t right. There’s still shit in my mind…things I haven’t dealt with. I will tell you that I made a call…hell, Ginny kept handing me the Mental Health Center cards, but I haven’t gone yet. A police officer needs to be sharp…ready at a moment’s notice.”

  “If you were an investigator…a detective…even only part-time, would you consider it?”

  Shaking his head slightly, he wondered why he did not just tell Mitch ‘no’. I’m too fucked up to be any good to anyone. But then, the pretty, green-eyed teacher came to mind. Jade. If I don’t get un-fucked…I’ve got no chance with her. Rubbing his hand over his face, he turned to Mitch. “No promises, man. But, I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I can ask, Lance.” Nodding, Mitch stood and shook his hand, before he headed back into town.

  “I’m not sure I believe in this process.”

  Lance sat in the chair facing Charles, the counselor at the Eastern Shore Mental Health Group. Going on Brogan’s recommendation, he chose this counselor, figuring if Brogan could get past whatever haunted him, then maybe there was a chance for him to get help also. Maybe.

  “But something prompted you to call…to come in.”

  Sighing heavily, he nodded. “Feels like I’m at a crossroads.”

  “Tell me more about this.”

  “Is this how our sessions are going to go? You prod shit out of me that I bring up and then tell me how to deal with it?”

  Chuckling, Charles shook his head. “As a counselor, my job is to listen to what you think your difficulties are, help you discover emotionally where you would like to be, and then assist you to get there. There’s no judgment here. No preconceived ideas of what you should have done differently or should do in the future.”

  Shaking his head, Lance apologized, “Sorry. That was a jerk thing to say. I’m…not much for talking.”

  “And yet you’re here.”

  Sucking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, he said, “Yeah…here I am.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he shifted his gaze around the room before settling back onto Charles. “I’d give anything to be able to sleep all night without waking up to nightmares. I’d love to have a conversation without feeling like I was going to choke on fear. I’d like to have a friend without being afraid…”

  As his voice died off, Charles peered at him, but did not ask what he meant. After a moment of silence, he asked, “And the crossroads you mentioned?”

  “My life was mine…my decisions…my career. First military police and investigator with Army CID. I actually thought about staying in the military...career military police. But…wartime…things happen. I got out…started working Vice in Richland…but the nightmares began.” Drawing in a ragged breath, he continued, “I’ve got an opportunity for a future again in Baytown…but I’m scared shitless.”

  “Then let’s talk about what happened.”

  He looked over at Charles’ kind face and knew it was time. Time to unburden himself. Leaning back in his chair, he began to talk.

  12

  The sun hid behind clouds, but Jade barely noticed as she walked, head down, c
ompletely focused on the slivers of glass on the shore. The storm last night must have churned up the surf, because the sea glass pickings were plentiful. She even found a fragment of purple glass, the bottom curved as though it may have come from a cup. Excited, she slowed her pace to gather every piece she found.

  Spying a large amber colored piece, she squatted in the sand to inspect it before placing it in her bag. She had decided to use an old, net laundry bag for gathering and carrying her new sea glass collection as she walked. The lightweight bag was easy to transport and the netted material allowed her to dip it in the water to wash off the glass all at one time.

  Standing, she looked out at the ships with her binoculars and viewed several that were there the other day and some that were new. She recognized Carson & Sons’ fishing boats and decided to check their catch out later in the harbor. She needed to talk to Skip about the class fieldtrip anyway. Shifting her bag to hang over her shoulder, she quickly jotted down the information she noted on the sides of the ships. As she slid her gaze over the horizon, she smiled at the fishing boats already coming back from their first hauls. A beautiful sailboat glided across the water, its white sails billowing in the morning breeze.

  The sun peaked out from behind a cloud and she leaned her head back, face to the sky, allowing it to warm her skin before moving back into hiding. Sighing, she trudged on, torn between wanting to get to Lance’s house and wanting to collect every piece of sea glass she could possibly spy.

  A whiff of something unpleasant from the breeze brought her head back up quickly and she looked up and down the beach, wondering what the waves tossed up to the shore. Perhaps it was a dolphin, like last summer when a dolphin plague caused multiple carcasses to wash up on shore. Last winter, when she was walking with the girls, they came across a five-foot-long sea turtle carcass that had just landed on the beach.

  Her eyes focused on a lump on the sand, right where the waves could still wash over it. White. Bloated.

  Eeww, I wonder if it’s a shark.

  She covered her nose with her hand as the odor became more offensive. Walking away from the shore, she decided to give it a wide berth as she headed toward Lance’s house.

  At about twenty feet away from the washed-up animal, she turned her head to see if she could identify the species when her feet stumbled to a halt, her stomach dropping.

  A body. A human body.

  With a gurgling scream in the back of her throat, she raced toward the body, but as she neared, it was apparent…there was no chance of life…not with part of his face missing. Falling to the sand on her knees, her meager breakfast came back up.

  Lance fixed two travel mugs of coffee, making sure to add extra cream and the sweetener he bought just for Jade. He grinned as he remembered the look on the cashier’s face when he bought flavored creamer and sweetener. Guess I’ve been a creature of habit, and I sure as shit don’t seem like a flavored creamer sort of guy.

  Popping on the lids, he moved to the screened porch and then out onto his deck. The day was cloudy, but the breeze blowing off the bay was warm and he inhaled a breath of fresh, clean air. Letting it out slowly, he thought about everything that had roamed his mind last night. Talking with Charles had his thoughts churning as much as the surf. His parents, who would never be pleased with him. His skills as an investigator lying dormant in the face of a job offer. His artwork, which had helped him move through the wartime memories more than he realized. And Jade. Jesus, no wonder I couldn’t sleep.

  He looked to the side, seeing Jade jogging toward him. Smiling widely, he headed down the dune, figuring she must want her coffee—or to see me—hustling as she was. As she neared, he discerned she was not jogging, but running full force. Her mouth was open but any sound being emitted was carried away by the wind.

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and if there was one thing he had learned in all his years in law enforcement—always listen to his gut feelings. Quickly setting the coffee mugs on the beach, he began running toward her, his heart pounding in fear, now close enough to see her pale, wide-eyed face. And to hear her screaming his name over and over.

  As he reached her, she collapsed in his arms, her ragged breath tearing from her lungs. “Bo…bo…bo…”

  He recognized hyperventilating and immediately swept her body into his as he lowered them both to the sand. Forcing her face to his, he tried to get her to slow her breathing, but to no avail. Shifting around, he placed his palm flat in the middle of her chest and pushed.

  “Push against my hand. Breath out and push against my hand,” he ordered. Getting in her face, he began slow inhalations and exhalations, saying, “Breathe with me. Breathe with me.”

  Her body shook as her breathing slowed enough she could create words and she croaked, “Bo…dy. Back…there. Bo…dy. Dead…bo…dy.”

  It took a few seconds for her chopped words to penetrate, but when they did his eyes widened in understanding. “There’s a body? A human body?”

  She nodded in jerks and he stood quickly, his eyes scanning the shoreline before he dropped his gaze back to hers. “Stay here. I’m going up the beach. I’ll call it in once I see what’s happening.”

  Her body in full-blown shakes, she just stared numbly at him.

  He hated to leave her but knew he had to find out what she had seen. “Jade. Honey, do you understand? You stay here? I’ll be back. Okay?”

  Jade nodded, now feeling light-headed with oxygen finally getting into her lungs. She watched as he stood, shot her a concerned look, and took off running up the beach.

  Approaching cautiously, making sure to not disturb the area, Lance viewed the body. Unable to stop the instinct to investigate, he began analyzing the scene. Pulling out his cell phone, he called Mitch.

  “Hey, Lance—”

  “This is official. Called you instead of 9-1-1 to keep down any unwanted listeners. There’s a body washed up on the beach, just north of my place.”

  “Fuck!” Mitch cursed. “On my way. I’ll call it in.”

  “I’m here. Gonna stay to make sure nothing happens. Come down Turner’s Lane and park at the end of that road, closest to the beach. It’s just inside the town line, so Colt may want in on this as well. Hell, probably the Coast Guard also.”

  “Got it. I’m calling it in. By the way, did you find it?”

  Inhaling sharply, he replied, “No. Jade did.”

  “Shit,” Mitch cursed again.

  “She’s a fuckin’ mess. Got her up at my place. She ran to me, couldn’t even breathe enough to tell me what happened.”

  “See you in less than ten minutes.”

  For the next eight minutes, he walked the scene, categorizing his observations so, by the time sirens sounded he had already begun the investigation. First on the scene were Mitch and Burt, both heading down the slight dune. Grant and Ginny followed right after them. He heard another siren and watched as Zac and another EMT came toward him, carrying a stretcher with an accompanying body bag. Before they reached him, he heard even more sirens before Colt Hudson and two deputies walked down the dune. Colt, the Sheriff of North Heron County, had also been an investigator in the Army, but they had never served together.

  As the gathering of law enforcement and EMTs made their way toward him, he glanced to the side and saw Jade slowly making her way up the beach.

  “Damnit,” he cursed and Ginny hustled over.

  “Mitch said Jade found the body?”

  “Yeah, I told her to stay at my house,” he said, concern etched on his face.

  “I’ve got her. I need to interview her anyway, so I’ll stop her from coming closer.”

  “No,” he snapped, his voice sharper than he meant. Her face swung back his way, and he quickly added, “I want to be there when you talk to her. She’s shaken.”

  Saying nothing, she stared at him a moment before giving a short nod and jogged toward Jade.

  Blowing out a breath, he turned back to the scene, stepping next to Grant and Mitch. Za
c was in the sand, his phone out, calling the medical examiner.

  Looking up, he said, “Dr. Warren says he’ll come out now, but doubts he can tell anything from here. He’s only about five minutes away. As soon as he takes a look, we’ll transport the body back so he can do his examination.”

  Mitch nodded, standing with his hands on his hips, before moving toward the body. Lance followed suit, as did the other officers.

  “Looks like some of the injuries we would see in the war when someone was shot at close range,” Mitch began.

  “Look at his wrists,” Lance added. “They were bound at some point.”

  “So, we’ve got an execution on the shore…Jesus, that’s fucked,” Grant said, his frustration palpable. “The only concrete clue is the body itself. Who knows what else might have been washed away.”

  “It wasn’t done here,” Lance indicated. “The body’s too bloated. It was done somewhere else then the body floated here. Probably been in the water a whole day, maybe more.”

  “Is Callan coming?” Burt asked, then turned as he heard noises from behind. “Never mind, there’s my answer.”

  Callan and his superior officer made their way to the body as well. Shaking hands with Mitch and Colt, the officer said, “Anything for us?”

  Mitch nodded and said, “From our first preliminary scan, he was killed somewhere and then possibly tossed from a ship or boat. Can your office help coordinate identifying any ships that might be missing someone?”

  “Absolutely,” Commander Tarson said, before turning to Callan. “Captain Ward, I’m giving this assignment to you. You’ll report to Chief Evans as well as to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” Callan agreed.

  The gathering turned once more to greet the latest arrival. Dr. Warren, one of the town’s physicians and medical examiner, came over the dune and down to the beach. Wearing his golf clothes, he frowned as he approached the group.