The View from Rainshadow Bay

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The View from Rainshadow Bay Page 4

by Colleen Coble


  Lucy rubbed her forehead. “Would you take these things then? I don’t know what to do to keep it all safe.”

  “Let me take it,” Zach said. “If you’re willing, of course. I don’t want to see either of you in danger. Especially not with Alex, Shauna. I’ll take it to the sheriff in the morning.”

  At his concern for her son, her heart warmed just a bit. “That’s probably a good idea. Okay with you, Lucy?”

  Lucy dabbed her eyes as fresh tears fell. “Whatever you think.”

  Chapter 4

  A campfire bloomed in the darkness down the street, and drunken laughter rippled on the wind. Good. No one was likely to notice him creeping up the steps, and if they did, it would make his mission more dangerous and exciting, which suited him just fine.

  It was one in the morning, and he’d smashed the lone light-bulb in the stairwell once it got dark. There hadn’t been anyone around then either, but he’d wanted to make sure no one caught a glimpse of his face. Any witness would most likely notice the deputy uniform he wore. One thing he’d noticed was that people paid attention to the badge and not the facial features.

  He reached the woman’s front door and paused to listen. There was only silence on the other side of the battered door. With such a flimsy barrier, all he had to do was slide a credit card down the jamb to unlock the latch. He slipped inside and quickly closed the door behind him. A cat gave a startled meow, then shot down the hallway. He’d have to move fast to make sure the animal didn’t awaken her.

  He pulled a ski mask over his face, then set his valise on the floor. With practiced care, he moved along the thin carpet to the first door on the right. Moonlight shone on the queen-size bed and illuminated her closed eyes and slightly open mouth. A light snore eased from her lips. He relaxed a bit as he stepped to the bed and clapped a gloved hand over her mouth.

  Her eyes flew open, and she struggled to escape his grip. Her muffled cries couldn’t get past his gloved hand.

  “Easy. I just want to talk to you a minute. But if you scream, I have this.” He held his sharp hunting knife up in the moonlight. Her eyes widened, and a tear slid from one eye. “Can I trust you enough to remove my hand?”

  She gave a jerky nod, so he eased his hand away but kept the knife in sight. She licked dry lips. “What do you want?”

  “Clarence gave the McDade woman a box to give to you. Where is it?” The device he’d put in the Glennons’ house had yielded up that last nugget before the explosion.

  Her eyes flickered to the closet, then back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Stupid woman. Why did she have to play games? He jerked her out of the bed and onto her feet, then marched her toward the closet. “Get it for me now.”

  “I don’t have a box from Shauna. You have the wrong information.”

  “I had his house bugged. I know all about the box.” He waggled the knife in front of her face. “Wonder how you’d look with a four-inch scar on your cheek? I might just cut you in a few places to see.”

  She shrank back. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “I want the box.” He shoved her toward the closet door. “Get it!”

  She opened the door and reached to the floor. A Priority Mail box was set back in the corner on top of a jumble of shoes. When she turned with it in her hands, he snatched it from her. “See, now wasn’t that easy? Why did you have to make it so hard?”

  She hugged herself in her flimsy nightgown. “Why are you doing this?”

  He eyed the defiant tilt to her chin. “Come with me.” The amnesia drug he planned to administer was in his satchel in the living room. One little stick, and she’d forget everything.

  She shook her head and backed away. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You got what you wanted. Just go.”

  Reaching over, he laid the blade against her throat. “Do what I say.”

  Her lips trembled, and she moved toward the door. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. Clarence just died. I’ve had all I can take today.”

  He smirked at her. “You think I don’t know that?”

  Her eyes went wide and horrified. “You killed Clarence? Why?”

  “I had no choice.” Holding the blade to her throat again, he motioned her to move down the hall toward the front door.

  She swallowed, then obeyed his silent command. They walked in lockstep toward the living room. The cat screeched and hurtled past their feet, and he jumped, nicking the woman’s throat a bit with his blade.

  She put her hand to her neck, then pulled her fingers back and looked at the blood on them. “You cut me.” She jerked out of his grip, then ran for the kitchen. She grabbed a knife from the wooden block and turned to face him as he raced after her.

  He stopped two feet from her and laughed. “You don’t know how to use that. Put it down.” He set the box on the counter and closed the gap.

  She slashed at him with the butcher knife, and he felt the wind of it on his arm. “Quit it.”

  He backhanded her, and her knife went flying and clattered on the kitchen floor. She reeled back, knocking over a glass of water on the counter. He moved toward her, but she threw a glass bowl at him, and as he ducked, she darted past him. Sprinting for the door, she stumbled over the cat and fell into the wall, smearing it with blood as she went down.

  Rage darkened his vision as he pursued her. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.” His fingers closed around her arm, and he jerked her to her feet.

  As he thrust the knife forward to threaten her, she jerked away again and lost her balance. Her shoulder hit the wall behind her and propelled her back toward him. When she crashed into him, the tip of the knife sliced into the base of her throat.

  Great, just great. He’d have to finish this here, then get out before someone heard the ruckus. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

  When he was done, he wiped the bloody knife on her nightgown, then retrieved the box. It sure was light. He shook it but didn’t hear anything. Frowning, he opened the end and peered inside. Empty. Where had the evidence gone?

  Shauna used her key to unlock Marilyn’s front door. She followed the sound of the TV and stepped into the living room. Sunshine slanted through the window and lit the red in Alex’s auburn hair. “Good morning.”

  “Mommy!” Alex, watching cartoons, leaped up from the floor and pelted toward Shauna.

  She caught him in a fierce embrace. After yesterday’s horrible events, his hugs were especially precious. “Hey, Bug. You have a good time with Grammy?”

  Marilyn had let him build a fort. Two blankets lay draped over the white leather sofa and chair. Remnants of pizza had hardened on paper plates as well. Alex’s hair hadn’t yet been combed, and a milk stain marred his Mickey Mouse pajamas. She didn’t want to let go of his sturdy little body. When everything else was wrong with her world, being with her son made everything right. She forced herself to release him, then watched him go back to his cartoons.

  Bright and perky, Marilyn stepped into the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. In her sixties, her hair was always colored to its original auburn shade and in a perfect chin-length bob. Shauna had never seen her in anything but designer slacks and blouses with perfectly appointed jewelry. She had one entire closet devoted to her shoes and accessories. In spite of being a slave to fashion, she’d been a bulwark for Shauna from the moment they met on that fifth date with Jack. Marilyn had taken one look at Shauna in her worn jeans and US Navy T-shirt and had decided she was perfect for her only child.

  Shauna realized how fortunate that support was from the very first. She hugged Marilyn tightly. “Thanks for helping out. You’re the best.”

  Marilyn released her. “Any more news?” She glanced at Alex. “Honey, you’d better go brush your teeth and get dressed. If Mommy is up for it, we’ll go to Harvey’s Pier for some seafood for lunch.”

  “Yay!” He abandoned the TV and rushed for the stairs.

  With small ears out of t
he way, Shauna told her all she’d seen. “I’m sure the sheriff will be by today.” She wanted to tell Marilyn about the necklace, but if it was an important clue to the investigation, she probably shouldn’t reveal it. Clarence hadn’t wanted anyone to know.

  Her cell phone played, and Shauna pulled it from her purse, then winced seeing the sheriff’s name. Everett Burchell, about forty-five, had been sheriff for six years. His marriage six months ago to twenty-four-year-old model Felicia Tong had shocked the county.

  Shauna answered the call. “Hi, Sheriff. I assume you want to talk to me again?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about that package yesterday? You may have compromised the investigation! Lucy called me last night and told me about it. She said you were going to try to hide it from me. Is that true?”

  She closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them and paced the floor in front of Marilyn’s large living room windows. “Clarence asked me to keep it quiet. I wanted to honor his wishes. You’ll see it all today.”

  The sheriff huffed. “I need you to go over every sentence Clarence said and every action he took when you were with him. Lucy says you identified the necklace as belonging to your mother.”

  “I’m not sure. I was very young when she died. I could be wrong. You could talk to my father about it.”

  “Can you come to my office right now?”

  “Can it wait? I’m picking up my son. He spent the night with Marilyn. It would be better if he didn’t hear any of this.”

  “No. You should have told me about the box last night. You’re not far from my house, and I’m still there. Just come over here.”

  She sighed and rubbed her head, then glanced at her mother-in-law who nodded. “Okay, Marilyn can keep Alex a little longer. I’ll be right there.” She ended the call and went to tell her son that their outing was going to be delayed.

  Chapter 5

  Shauna’s nerves still vibrated from the sheriff’s reprimand. Had she messed up the investigation? She wanted the killer brought to justice with every fiber of her being.

  She pulled up in front of a contemporary gray two-story overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The sheriff’s house was the last one in the city limits of Lavender Tides. Rumor had it that his wife’s money had paid for most of it since it had to be worth a million dollars. Shauna eyed the house as she parked her truck in the circle drive. Before she got out, she tried Lucy’s number again. Still no answer. Maybe she was still asleep.

  Shauna got out and went to the massive door. She didn’t have a chance to press the doorbell before it swung open to reveal the Asian beauty she’d heard so much about.

  The young woman’s hair was in a ponytail, and she wore bright-pink yoga pants and a skimpy exercise top. Her olive skin glistened with perspiration, and her cheeks were pink. “Good morning. You must be Shauna.”

  Her voice had that smoky, husky tone men found so entrancing, but Shauna warmed immediately to the intelligence in her dark-brown sloe eyes.

  “Guilty as charged.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Burchell.”

  “Call me Felicia.” Her handshake was firm and friendly. “Come on in. Everett is in the living room. I need to take a shower anyway, so the two of you can talk in private. But don’t run off. I’d love a chance to chat. This area is a little standoffish, and I haven’t gotten to know hardly anyone. Maybe you can give me the lay of the land.”

  Shauna followed her and took in the home’s grandeur. The gleaming marble floors and huge living room with ceilings that soared at least twenty-feet high were impressive. A huge chandelier glittered down over a Persian rug warming the space. The place held the scent of Italian leather from the new red sofa. “Beautiful room.”

  “Thank you. It was fun to decorate, and Everett let me do whatever I wanted. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Felicia sent a final smile her way as the sheriff rose from a leather chair by the massive marble fireplace.

  He pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat. Want something to drink?”

  He capitalized on his dark good looks with an Elvis-style hairdo that glistened with product. Had he dyed it recently? She could have sworn he’d had some gray at the temples. He was handsome for a guy in his forties, though hardly in Felicia’s attractiveness category.

  “No, I’m fine.” The leather still felt a little stiff to Shauna as she sank onto the couch. “Did you call my dad about the necklace?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t get him, though. Stubborn man doesn’t have voice mail. I’ve already made some initial inquiries at some jewelry stores to determine where it was purchased. It’s rare for sure, but it might not be one of a kind. I’m going to show it to your father as well once I get it. Zach is dropping off the box at my office first thing this morning.”

  Her father had become a drunk since her mother’s death. Any mention of her was sure to send him on a binge. “Could I look at it again first? I don’t want to bother Pop with it if it’s unnecessary.”

  “Stop by the jail. I’ll tell them to let you see it. But you were only eight or ten when your mom died, weren’t you? I’m not so sure your memory of it is that clear.”

  “I was eight. Mom never took it off. I played with it around her neck more times than I can count.”

  He shrugged. “Have a look then to set your mind at ease.” A frown creased his forehead. “Have you spoken to Lucy this morning? I’ve called her three times but just got voice mail.”

  Her back prickled with gooseflesh. “I called her on the way here, but she didn’t answer.” Shauna raised her hand to her mouth. “Sheriff, what if the person who killed Clarence is after Lucy now? She might be in danger!”

  “We don’t know Clarence was killed. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

  She failed to keep her voice steady. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

  He rolled his eyes but got up. “I’ll go check on her. Call her and tell her I’m on my way.”

  She fumbled her phone from her handbag and called Lucy, but she landed in voice mail after four rings. “Lucy, don’t answer the door and keep it locked. The sheriff is on his way. We want to make sure you’re safe.”

  Her hands shook as she ended the call and prayed for her friend’s safety.

  The scent of fish and chips hung in the hallway. Morning traffic flowed past Lucy’s apartment complex as Zach rang her doorbell and waited. When she didn’t answer, he rang the bell again. Kids cried a few doors down, and he heard a woman’s voice soothing them. After a furtive glance around, two teenagers below him in the stairwell exchanged something. Probably a drug buy. This neighborhood was notorious for drugs.

  He glanced at the door and bit back a gasp when he saw it ajar by about an inch. His neck prickling, he nudged it open a few more inches. “Lucy? It’s Zach.”

  No answer. His pulse sped up when her cat, Weasley, zipped past him from inside and disappeared around the corner of the outside hallway. He started to go after it, then looked back at the entry. Something was wrong. Lucy was always safety conscious. She wouldn’t leave the door unlocked, let alone ajar.

  He pushed it all the way open. “Lucy, I’m coming in.” After stepping inside, he was struck by a thick coppery smell.

  Then he saw the first smear of blood, a handprint on the beige wall. Acid rose in his throat as he walked toward the hallway.

  And there she was. Lucy lay curled in a fetal position on the hall floor. He squatted beside her and pressed his fingers against her carotid artery. No pulse. She had multiple stab wounds in her chest, and defensive slashes scored her palms. She’d obviously fought hard against her attacker. A knife lay a foot or so from her outstretched hand.

  He stood and pulled out his phone to call the sheriff’s office when a strident voice called out, “Sheriff’s department. I’m coming in!”

  Zach stepped into the other man’s view and held up his hand. “Over here, Sheriff.”

  Burchell barreled through the doorway and hurried toward him. “What are yo
u doing here, Bannister?” His brows drew together, and his nostrils flared.

  “I came to check on Lucy. She was understandably upset last night, and I wanted her to know we cared. Someone got here before me. She’s dead, stabbed.” He moved out of the way and motioned for the sheriff to go around him to the hallway.

  The sheriff stopped and heaved a sigh. “Did you touch anything?”

  “Her neck. I was checking for a pulse. And the door when I came in.”

  Burchell pulled out his phone and called in his forensic team. While he was talking, Zach wandered around the small apartment to look for clues, careful not to touch anything. A glass of spilled water pooled on the dingy counter, and a stool lay on its side. He suspected the sheriff would find the lock had been jimmied.

  He stopped in the foyer and listened to the sheriff’s end of the conversation. His ears perked up when he heard Burchell say, “C-4 isn’t an easy explosive to get hold of. They’re sure?”

  The sheriff ended the call and motioned for Zach to join him in the living room. “What time did you get here?”

  “About five minutes ago. I rang the bell a couple of times, then noticed the door was ajar. Her cat got out too, by the way. I should probably go find it.”

  Burchell’s dark-blue eyes narrowed. “You have an alibi for this morning?”

  “What, you think I killed her? She and Clarence were good friends. I cared about her, about both of them.” When the sheriff continued to stare him down, Zach shrugged. “I was home alone from the time I dropped Shauna off at nine last night until I left the house this morning at seven. I stopped for gas, and you can probably find a video verifying it. I dropped the box off at your office at seven thirty, then had breakfast at the café before deciding to check on Lucy.”

  Though Zach should have expected the suspicion, it still stung. His friendship with the Glennons was long-standing, but then, conventional wisdom said the murderer was usually someone close to the victim. The next thing the sheriff would say was that he was going to check out Shauna.

 

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