Murder by the Seaside

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “You turned yourself in?” I almost dropped his coffee.

  “I shouldn’t have run to begin with.”

  Sheriff Murray stepped away and watched us.

  I tried to ignore him. “Mrs. Tucker sent you coffee.” I handed it through the bars to him and then turned to Sheriff Murray. “Can I at least go in and sit with him?”

  He grunted.

  “He fingered your cruller,” I informed Adrian.

  “What?” Adrian’s nose wrinkled in confusion.

  “Fine.” Sheriff Murray stepped forward and opened the door to let me pass. Then he pointed to a security camera in the corner of the room. “You have seven minutes left.”

  The metal door banged shut, and he disappeared down the hallway.

  I hugged Adrian tight to my chest. “That was really honorable of you to admit you were wrong for running. I’m glad you called the sheriff.”

  “It’s not like he could apprehend me.”

  “Right. Either you’re really good at hiding, or he’s really bad at finding.” On an island as small as ours, I couldn’t figure how Adrian had kept from being arrested. Unless the sheriff had a heart under all that attitude and didn’t want to bring him in. I doubted that was the case.

  Adrian and I sat on a bench against the wall, and he wound one heavy arm over my shoulders. I shifted against his chest and exhaled long and deep. The room was depressing. No wonder his arm felt like lead across my shoulders. Gray concrete floors. Gray bars and walls inside the cell. Gray drywall outside the cell. Adrian sipped his coffee in silence. Time ticked by. The faint scent of fish threatened my composure. All the gray confinement reminded too much of the moments I spent under a pillowcase. Knowing the person Adrian rescued me from was still out there coiled my tummy.

  “I found your secret passage.” I lifted away from his arm and smiled. Hank could probably patch up the opening after he fixed the rat door at the boathouse, although I hated the thought of letting anyone in on our secret.

  I rolled my eyes. Adrian was the one who started the silly rumor about my building being haunted. He’d convinced our entire senior class and eventually the island got behind the story.

  “When you used to work at the art studio downstairs, did your boss tell you about the passageway?” I asked.

  “No. I found it on my own. I don’t think anyone knew it was there.”

  “Who knew one day you’d be on the lam for murder? I guess your secret escape hatch comes in handy for a man in your position.” I bumped my shoulder into his.

  “I didn’t kill Brady.”

  “I know.”

  “My attorney will get things straightened out.”

  I looked into his pale gray eyes. His hurt and apprehension couldn’t be masked from me. We’d been too close once. Being deceived by him would be impossible, like being lied to by part of your own soul.

  “I promise to bring you something from the Tasty Cream as often as possible. Maybe that will help during the wait for this to sort itself out. You’ll have something delicious to look forward to.” I squeezed my hand on his leg.

  “Let’s go, Price.” Sheriff Murray’s voice boomed down the corridor. Keys rattled in his hand. Time was up. I kissed Adrian on the cheek and left before I gave the sheriff any reason to forbid my return.

  Sheriff Murray eyed me. “What’s your problem? You look like you sucked a lemon.”

  “It smells like fish in here.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed. The whole island smelled like fish to some degree.

  “It smells like the pillowcase yanked over my head.” Tears welled in my eyes, surprising me. I cleared my throat and bit the inside of my cheek to get my emotions in check. “Your jail reminds me of the stinky pillowcase that psychopath used on me.” I spat the words, suddenly livid.

  Find him! My heart screamed. But with Adrian in custody, I had no doubt the “investigation” was over. I swiped a tear from my cheek and blew a puff of air into my bangs before storming off.

  “Hey,” Adrian called after me. I turned back to see a glint of mischief in his eye. “Buy some sunscreen, would you?” He winked, and I left him behind in the saddest place I’d ever been.

  Outside in the sun, free of the gray inside Adrian’s cell, hope floated up. I went straight to see my parents at The Purple Pony. I wanted to help Adrian. During the walk, thoughts swirled and mingled and mutated as I tried to figure out what I was missing. Some key piece of information either eluded me, or I had it and hadn’t realized how important it was yet.

  Adrian seemed so small and helpless inside the holding cell. He trusted the system. Admirable. I wanted to trust the system, but the sheriff had never proved to be much of a sleuth in the past. I doubted that had changed since I graduated high school. With no crimes to investigate, he couldn’t have had much practice.

  When I opened the door to The Pony, Dad greeted me like Dino from the Flintstones. His arms wrapped me tight. He arched his back and lifted me from the floor. I sucked air, stifling a scream.

  “Put her down. She hardly comes to see us as it is.” Mom came to pat my back.

  “Ah!”

  They both stepped back and stared, wide-eyed, at my face. In unison they circled me. A whispered chorus of “Ooohs” and “Ahhs” followed until they arrived back in front of me.

  “It’s worse than we thought.” Mom looked at Dad. “The bath didn’t do a thing.”

  Dad disappeared and returned with his special water.

  I accepted.

  “You want to talk?”

  “No. I need to think.”

  “You want to go fishing?” Dad looked expectant. “Fishing always gives me clarity.”

  Mom frowned. “We could knit? On the deck at home? Your father could watch the shop. Oh! Let me read your cards.”

  “No. I don’t know what I want to do. Swim maybe. Swimming used to do wonders for my drama.”

  They exchanged a look.

  “What? I’m still a strong swimmer.”

  “You should stay out of the sun for a few days.” Mom looked victoriously at Dad. Fishing, known to Mom as marine life capture-and-kill, was an in-the-sun activity.

  “I’ll wait for evening.” Suddenly I was exhausted and wanted a nap.

  “Is Sebastian coming back again tonight?” Dad looked worried.

  “Yeah. Late.”

  “You two want to meet us for mai tais on the deck?”

  For some unknown reason, drinks on the deck with my parents and Sebastian sounded marvelous. “Is ten too late?”

  “Ten’s great.” Dad beamed. “I’ll grill something.”

  “Deal.” I texted Sebastian as I left The Pony, feeling infinitely happier than I had thirty minutes earlier. But a nap still sounded wonderful.

  * * *

  I woke to a gorgeous stream of pinks and golds coming through my window. Sunset. I was rested and still had enough time to go for a swim before Sebastian came back. I craved the sensation of ocean water on my skin, bobbing in the surf, free from captivity. The timing was perfect. A setting sun wouldn’t hurt my healing burns. Thanks to the love bus, I made it to the beach in time to see throngs of tourists head home for dinner. I had the whole place to myself. Life was giving me a break for a change. I climbed into the back of the bus like old times and stripped out of my shorts and Sebastian’s T-shirt. I adjusted the suit I’d slid on underneath and looked for a bottle of water. Staying hydrated proved to be more difficult than I expected.

  I opened a red Igloo cooler and found a flattened, folded one-man inflatable boat. Fate and I didn’t get along, but omens I believed in. Sitting at the beach alone with a one-man boat seemed like the universe trying to tell me something. I hooked up the air pump before I could talk myself out of things. Maybe swimming alo
ne wasn’t the best idea. Maybe a boat ride would help me get my head together.

  The phone startled me. For whatever reason, the ringer was stuck in ear-bleed mode since I turned it off silence, and the mega-loud ding-ding announced a text. Sebastian would be late. He’d meet me at eleven. I texted him back to let him know I was at the beach. Before the boat was fully inflated, he’d already changed his story. He’d be on the island in two hours, but he’d have to finish some reports at my place. I shrugged and shoved the phone in my shorts then slid them back on.

  By the time I’d maneuvered the boat into the surf and paddled out beyond the waves, all I could think about was whether or not the Coast Guard had been back with divers to investigate. Hopefully they were on top of things. I struggled to get the little boat turned around and headed back to the scene of the crime. Not far from my destination, my heart sped. When I came near the place where Adrian’s kayak went down, I couldn’t go any farther. Panic filled my throat. I headed for shore instead.

  I dragged the vessel onto the sandy shore where I’d attended so many parties, and sat in the soft white sand, scooping and releasing the grains by the handful. Being at the scene of the crime gave me a panic attack. I should’ve expected as much. The sun shifted lower on the horizon until only a sliver of silver remained against a backdrop of shadows. Hues of deep purple and gray gave my nostalgic spot a creepy edge. Tiny sand dunes formed under my hands as I worked through everything I knew.

  What was Perkins up to? I remembered him talking to someone on the phone. What did he want out of?

  I leaned back on my elbows, debating how soon to start paddling home, when a huge yacht passed in view. The lights were off and the motor quiet. It slowed and blinked out of sight against the dark horizon. I squinted into the night, stepping carefully into the grasses at the water’s edge. As I crouched against a weedy bank, my teeth chattered with nerves. Though it wasn’t the same boat, the memories were fresh. Definitely anxiety.

  After ten days at home, I was the one who needed a therapist.

  A splash in the distance put my muscles on lockdown. Every inch of me tensed to flee, but curiosity pressed through the veil of fear. I inched through the dense grass, needing to know what was happening, careful of every step, mindful of every breath. When I got as close as I dared on the shore, I pulled my phone out to tell Sebastian I was running late. I planned to stay until the boat left. No way I’d ever enter the water on the inflatable boat with another suspicious vessel around.

  The groaning turned to chain clinking and then another splash. I choked on my tongue. The black barrels dumped by the first boat were being carried up by the new boat. In my experience, Coast Guard boats didn’t perform covert ops. Also, their boats had lights. I sent another text to Sebastian. Bad guys wouldn’t clean their own dump site.

  My guess? This had never been a dump site.

  I thrilled at the revelation. The missing link. The Coast Guard would find nothing when they searched later because this boat wanted what was left behind. Ha! I performed a tiny victory dance alone in the dark weeds. I sent another quick text. Trafficking. Brady and Perkins were traffickers. My fingers couldn’t text the new theory fast enough.

  Onboard, shadows moved around the barrel. The unmistakable silhouette of automatic rifles appeared in the moonlight. I gasped. The men on deck removed the barrel lid. Prying the top took several hands. Anticipation paralyzed me. How much drugs could fill a barrel that size? A million dollars’ worth? How big had Brady and Perkins’s cuts been?

  The men maneuvered the lid away from the barrel and reached inside. They removed long barreled Rambo guns and passed them to one another. Guns. Not drugs. A weight settled over my chest, flattening my lungs into my back. Satisfied, they reloaded the barrel and rolled it against the wall. They lowered the pulley into the water again.

  Ding-ding! The return text came as loud as a freight train against the silent, eerie night.

  Four words from Sebastian. Get Out Of There.

  Voices carried from the boat, loud and fast. Chattering. Swearing. Oh no.

  Ding-ding!

  Damn it!

  Now!

  A spotlight swept over the grass, landing on me. I uttered another four-letter word and ran. Dashing through the forest was impossible. The area was deeply wooded. Branches flicked out to catch my skin as I passed. The rev of a small-craft motor broke through the night. They were coming for me. I darted and jumped around what I could see. My sunburn flamed with the assault of the thickets and trees. This time I knew where I’d entered the forest and which direction to find the access road.

  Ding-ding!

  The motor stopped. The boat was on shore. They’d be in the forest in seconds, with lights and guns. My stomach dropped to my toes, but adrenaline propelled me on. I needed to tell Sebastian what was happening but couldn’t afford the time it would take to send the text.

  Shots rang out behind me, and I threw my back against an enormous tree trunk. Breath seared my throat with every gasp.

  “Did you get her?” A loud, gravelly voice boomed.

  “Aw.”

  The response confused me. How long did I have before they came to take me away? Perhaps they’d kill me and leave me in the forest. I blinked back tears, brokenhearted for my parents to lose me this way. Parents shouldn’t outlive their children. How many hours had I spent consoling moms after losing a child to a government assignment? Too many.

  “I thought it was a person,” the second voice said more softly.

  Every sound in the forest disappeared until only one, save their voices, remained. A sound I’d grown up hearing in the same forest. The gentle snuffling of a pony. Bang! One last shot, and then there was no more snuffling.

  Footfalls and crackling branches marked the pair’s trip away from me. The roar of their small boat’s engine vanished into the night. My heart stopped beating. The whoosh of blood beat inside my head.

  Ding-ding!

  Good grief. I wiped silent tears and fumbled to check the phone. A dozen panic-infused texts from Sebastian. A tiny sob slid over my lips. My legs wobbled. Too terrified to stand, I told him where to find me. I didn’t want to be seen in the woods.

  I surely didn’t want to see the pony.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Time ticked by. I held my breath again and again, afraid I’d be heard, afraid to be found, afraid someone still stood nearby. Tears escaped for the stupid pony. I hated the ponies, but they’d never seemed vulnerable before. Now, one had suffered a fate meant for me. Did I owe it something? Mom would go berserk when she heard about the pony. My karma was probably wrecked for life.

  Hoofbeats in the distance. I hoped they weren’t headed my way. What would they do when they found their fallen brother? Did ponies grieve? My mind circled through endless thoughts at random. I tried every suggestion I gave patients struggling with anxiety. I sang jingles in my head and replayed favorite memories: Adrian building sand castles. My parents walking hand in hand. Claire’s crazy closet. Sebastian’s kiss.

  My eyes stung, and their lids grew heavy. Distant shadows morphed and changed. The trees and night creatures made it impossible to relax for the briefest moment. I leaned against the tree, and an owl screeched overhead, causing me to jump and scrape my burned back against the rough bark. My muscles ached from the tension. Mice dashed over leaves on the ground.

  Thunder cracked, and a flash of lightning ran sideways across the sky overhead. Clouds darkened the forest around me one moment, only to be lit the next with a burst of light. The process reminded me of a heavenly strobe light. I pulled my knees to my chest as drops of rain made their way through the canopy overhead. Despite the day’s heat, the drops were cold, stinging my burn. Shivers racked my body. Nerves and rain took over.

  With every flash of lightning, I counted, waiting for the thunder. The storm
moved closer until I could only reach three before the sky lit over me. The hair on my arms stood at attention. Gooseflesh covered my body. Little by little the drops covered me, falling faster, closer. Soon it became impossible to listen for killers in the forest. The steady pitter-patter of raindrops and cracking thunder masked everything, including my thoughts.

  One distant shadow bothered me more than the others. While it remained silent, it seemed to draw near. With every flash of lightning, the shadow moved forward. Taller than the others, there was a distinct human-like quality to it. I stretched my hands to the ground beside me, gripping a fallen branch, and keeping it close to my chest. If I was still enough, and the shadow was a man, he might not see me in time to shoot me before I brained him. A weak plan, but my only plan.

  Maybe I could drag him over to the pony afterward. My throat tightened. What kind of person shot a pony? Rational thought returned, forcing my focus onto the shadow.

  Oh. The kind of man who thought they were shooting me. My mind kept rejecting the direct process of this information. The idea registered and bounced off, replaced by a more abstract and general idea. A protective mechanism. I’d diagnosed the behavior in others, never expecting to ever find myself in the same condition.

  The shadow drew nearer, creeping over the trees and earth. My fingers burned from their grip on my feeble weapon.

  Crack! Boom! Lightning and thunder arrived in the same beat, shaking the earth around me. A man in a hunter’s crouch moved in at rapid speed. In a flash, I was on my feet swinging for a home run.

  “I’ve got her,” he spoke into the air.

  I glanced around, expecting to see his cohorts, then swung the limb with every ounce of bravery I could muster. My arms braced for the hit, expecting backlash, and hoping for an opportunity to escape.

  The moment didn’t go as planned. My hit was thwarted. The branch was wrenched from my grip. My body crushed against the man. His warm hands burned my icy wet skin. Tears erupted at the firm but familiar touch. I recognized the quiet shush of breath over my hair. Sebastian. I gripped him back and he loosened his hold. He wore a big pair of night vision goggles. Standard issue. I recognized them, and I approved. This meant he could see the coast was clear.