Red Tide

by Peg Brantley

  Ciara leaned forward. “I’ve been with a lot of men, Jamie, but Nicholas Grant? I met him the other day with Ellen and Abner. Nick Grant has layers. He’s got layers worth taking out a shovel to get to. A little too much trouble for me, at least for the moment, but give me the right place and time? Honey, you’d have a race on your hands.”

  Jamie, amazed at the depth Ciara imagined Nick Grant to have, had no clue how to respond. She looked to either Ellen or Jax for some help.

  Ellen smashed the end of a shrimp quesadilla between her fingers. “Arnold told me Nick Grant is one of the most respected FBI agents in the region. That’s got to mean something, right?” She took a bite, avoiding all eye contact.

  Jamie stared at her for a moment. “You know something. What else has Arnold told you?”

  Ellen, unable even for a moment to hide something she felt, turned a blotchy red and her eyes pooled with tears. But she drew her lips inward and sat silent. The look she gave Jamie was both pleading and accusatory.

  “Wait.” Jax put an arm around Ellen. “Before we go any further, I have something to say that everyone here, and most especially my sister, needs to hear.”

  The three other women fell silent.

  “For whatever reasons, neither Jamie nor myself have made the best choices when it comes to men. Just so you understand I’m being completely honest and open here, I’ll start with myself.” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I know what all of you think of Phil, but right now, he’s my best shot at happiness, which, to me, is having a child.”

  Jamie sat stunned and open-mouthed. She stared at her sister. Where’s this coming from?

  Ellen folded her hands, inspecting them closely as if for a flaw of some kind. Ciara took another long swallow from her fresh martini before setting the glass on the table and looking intently at Jax.

  Jax smoothed one of the cloth napkins on the table. “ I know what Phil has cost me in terms of money, pride and time, but if I get a baby from him, it all will have been worth it. I know my choice in a husband sucked, but I made it and I’m stuck with it. I said all that to say that being married to him has given me a kind of insight into what really makes people tick deep down where it matters, where they usually try to hide.”

  Jamie shifted in her chair, aching to stand up and walk out of the restaurant.

  Jax looked directly at Jamie. “So here’s the big sister speech. I don’t know much about Teague Blanton, but there’s something about his charm and absolute perfection that makes me feel oily, and not in a good way. Nicholas Grant, on the other hand, probably has some secrets.” Jax looked pointedly at Ellen, then back to Jamie. “But there’s something good and solid and honorable about him. If one of these two men are about to become deeply embroiled in my sister’s life, I hope it will be the one who, right now, she can barely stand.”

  Jamie was as mad at Jax as she had ever been. “Who the hell are you to talk about oily and honorable? Just because you’ve experienced the faithlessness and disrespect of your own husband doesn’t make you all-seeing when it comes to other men, and especially not the men in my life.”

  Ellen reached for her hand, but Jamie pulled it away. “You all know that I made a horrible decision where Andrew was concerned, but not one of you knew beforehand. And if you did, we have some other problems. I’ve grown since then, and would no more stay with a man who cheated on me in every way possible than I would with one who left me with physical scars.” She looked at each of them to make sure she had their attention. “Teague Blanton has treated me with nothing but respect, and a man with secrets, like Agent Grant, is one of those long shots that no sane woman should make time for. Think about this: the man doesn’t like dogs, and he can barely cover up his own feelings about them. Dogs. Are you kidding me?”

  She stood, dropped some money on the table, and looked at Jax. “I’m sorry, Honey, I really am, but Phil is never going to give you what you want. Even if you do have a baby, you’ll have to deal with the baby’s father and life will be always be hell.”

  She turned to Ellen. “And you. You know something about the handsome, yet troubled, FBI agent.” Jamie’s voice took on a theatrical note, but she couldn’t stop. “Whom, we know, is currently on some kind of secret leave. Well, sweet Ellen, my misdirected sister and I have been informed that we will still be working with him, so if there’s something we should know—something that could impact our progress on this case—you’d better get over keeping your pillow-talk secrets and spill this one.”

  “I can’t, and I won’t. Jamie, do you hear yourself? This isn’t like you.” Ellen looked hurt. “If Sheriff Coble is good to go with Agent Grant, what gives you the right to be all over his case?”

  Jamie sat back down, the wind knocked out of her. It was a good question, and one that she didn’t want to think about.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “Sometimes our friendship and love gets a little intense, you know?” Jamie squeezed someone’s fingers, she just wasn’t sure who they belonged to. Eight hands entwined on the table top at E-lev 2. “We see each other at our best and our worst. Thank goodness whatever day we became friends I had my best game on. I made you fall in love with me and count me as a friend, and then I opened up my box of flaws. I couldn’t get through this life without each one of you.”

  She waited for a moment, then pulled out a hand and wiped a tear. “You are all important to me in so many ways. Ciara, you make me want to live my life bigger than it is. You keep me reaching and striving to be more than I am.” Jamie looked at Ellen. “And sweetheart, you make me understand what’s really important. Thank you for keeping me grounded.”

  A moment passed.

  “What about me?” Jax smiled, but Jamie could read the insecurity underneath the pulled-up mouth.

  “Jacqueline Angelique Taylor, you know the exact spot on my butt that needs kicked from time to time to take a look at what’s going on around me. You remind me that family is what matters, and that with love in our lives, we can overcome anything.” Jamie squeezed again. “You guys keep me centered, and it’s a good thing... because when I’m out of whack, I think and say some of the dangdest things. Things I’m always sorry for.”

  Ellen smiled. “I have an announcement to make.”

  Jamie looked at her friend. No way! It had been less than a month.

  “Arnold and I are engaged. We’re getting married next month, and I want all of you to be my maids,” Ellen looked at Jax, “and matron of honor.”

  All four women jumped from the table and hugged and cried, thrilled for their friend.

  The next hour was taken up with discussion and questions and plans surrounding Arnold Abner and the details of the big day.

  Jamie was content, and so happy for Ellen. Leave it to the quiet one to meet someone, fall in love, and get married in only a few weeks. Before she was ready to stop celebrating, both Ciara and the bride-to-be had to leave. It had been a special afternoon among a long list of their special afternoons, but with Ellen’s news, today ranked near the top.

  After the other had left, she and Jax shared a few moment of comfortable silence.

  “You really are something, you know.” Jax shoved the bowl of nuts in Jamie’s direction.

  “Yeah?”

  “For someone who doesn’t always know what’s going on with herself and shows it, you can be remarkably self-aware. I don’t get it.”

  Jamie smiled. “Well, I guess I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  “Whatever.”

  The sisters sat awhile longer. Neither needed to make conversation. Besides, Jamie was exhausted and she needed to think.

  Jax pulled up her purse and began to dig for her keys. “I need to run by the lab.”

  “What for?”

  “I have some notes there and I want to take a look at them, finish my reports on the last two victims.”

  “Did you get the samples off to the CBI?”

  “They all went out this afternoon, exce
pt for the last two. They’ll be couriered tomorrow morning.”

  “Mind if I tag along?” Jamie didn’t like the idea of her sister going to her lab alone this late at night, but she wasn’t about to tell her so.

  “Aren’t you tired?”

  “Yeah, a little, but it’s on my way home and I haven’t been there in a while. You might have redecorated or something.”

  “Yeah, right. The county is so flush with funds, Ty Pennington put his genius to work on my office. And the morgue.”

  “So you’re good if I’m there?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  The bill finalized, they drove separately the few blocks to Jax’s office.

  The parking lot was empty, but well lit except for the far edges that bordered Aspen Falls Park and another office building. Patches of darkness spilled into the parking area like overturned bottles of ink where those two entities joined the municipal lot. Jamie and Jax both parked next to the building, under bright lights.

  “Kind of eerie here at night, isn’t it?” Jamie asked.

  “You get used to it. I’m here a lot after hours.”

  Yeah. Like when your husband has decided to party-on down at Central City or Blackhawk. Jamie bit her tongue.

  Jax fit her key in the lock and they walked into the lobby. It looked bigger somehow, and filled with ghosts.

  They rode the elevator to Jax’s floor without talking.

  Jamie considered that the silence in a Medical Examiner’s office was not the same as the silence in any other office known to man. There were ghosts here. Sadness. Grief. Regret. Guilt. Torment. And a curious element of hope.

  They walked down the hall. Jamie waited while Jax unlocked the door and flipped on the light.

  At first glance, everything looked normal. The county-issued waiting room chairs, in a horrible blue plaid, sat empty and alone along two walls. A coffee table held the fanned-out copies of the latest periodicals, while their older siblings were stuffed in an upright magazine holder next to a water cooler. A sad hibiscus plant clung to life in the far corner.

  Jamie couldn’t help thinking, A waiting room assigned to death.

  Jax’s demeanor changed. “What the hell?” She crouched lower as she went around the corner into the receptionist’s area. Papers were strewn all over the floor. “Oh, no!” Jax took off for her lab at a run, Jamie right behind her.

  Destruction greeted them like a rabid dog on a rusty chain. What had been an organized, professional space a few hours ago had turned into a biohazard dumping ground. It would take days, if not weeks, to replace the damaged equipment and certify the space for use again as a medical examiner’s lab, assuming, of course, the county had adequate funds to put out in front of whatever insurance they had in place. In the current economy, that was highly questionable.

  Chapter Fifty

  Jamie fought to keep her eyes open on her drive home. Exhaustion had settled over her like a lead blanket. The police report had taken forever, and even though she hadn’t been much help, she wanted to be there for Jax. She rolled the window down and turned the music up.

  The dogs would be hungry for food and attention, and she felt up for one of the two. All she wanted was a pillow, and about ten hours of nothingness.

  On the drive up to her house, she stopped. The windows in her home weren’t lit exactly, but a soft glow was coming from inside that didn’t feel right. The sleepiness puddled around her feet and left something strange and spiky in its wake. She put her SUV in Park, killed the engine and opened the door. She slipped out and pushed the door closed as quietly as possible, until the interior light went out. She sprinted to the house, her steps as light as she could make them. Please let this be nothing. Just some light I forgot to turn off before I left this morning. It had happened before.

  Another thought struck her. Where are the dogs? Surely by now they’d be barking in anticipation of her arrival. They could always sense things, hear things, smell things. Why aren’t they clambering toward me? Why isn’t the slightest sound coming from the house? This isn’t right. It just isn’t right.

  She picked her way around the side of her house, stopping every few steps to listen for something that would tell her what was going on. She heard nothing. She thought about pushing the number on her cell phone, the one that connected her to the sheriff, but she didn’t dare. If someone was listening, the noise would give her away in a flash.

  At the back corner of her house she stopped. She searched the expanse beyond her back deck, but saw nothing.

  “Damn, Jamie. I thought I taught you how to be quiet in the woods.”

  “Dad?”

  “You’d better be glad it’s me. Anyone else would’ve had your head, or worse, by now.”

  “Daddy? Is it really you?” Jamie flew up the stairs and into the arms of the man standing just outside the doors leading to her deck.

  She had dreamt of feeling his arms around her again, and now, for a few moments, she was gathered in his strength. She was ten again, secure in a place where fathers protect their daughters, and the daughters believed them unconditionally. “How did you... I mean, when did you... I mean, why are you—”

  “I’ll explain everything, but for now, do me a favor. Go back and pull your SUV into the garage just as you normally do. Okay?”

  Jamie had so many questions. Her father had resided on the fringes of her and her sister’s lives for ten years. Like an off-stage whisper, he circled from time to time, but his focus had remained on the hunt for the man who had murdered his wife. They’d all lost so much.

  “James, now please, before someone sees you doing something different from your normal routine.”

  Bryce reached down and pulled McKenzie into his arms.

  When Jamie parked her SUV in the garage, she took a few deep breaths. She loved her dad and respected the sacrifices he’d made. All of their lives had been impacted by her mom’s murder, maybe her dad’s most of all.

  Once back inside, she walked through her normal routine. Keys, purse, coat... all put away. She checked the dog’s bowls, and as suspected, they were full. The dishes, rinsed, were stacked in the sink. Someone had a good dinner tonight.

  A bottle of Blanton’s sat on the counter. It hadn’t come from her liquor cabinet. Next to it was a wine goblet and an open bottle of one her favorite Ravenswood zinfandels. For not being around much, Bryce Taylor knew her better than she thought.

  She realized for the first time that a fire was blazing in the fireplace and a Norah Jones CD was playing in the background. A tray of her emergency appetizers from the freezer had been thawed and heated and arranged with care on the table. Two clean plates and cloth napkins sat next to them. Her dogs, which included Shelby until Brian Rawlings’ parents arrived to take home this special connection to their son, lay curled together in the warmth of the flames.

  “Dad?”

  The toilet in the main floor powder room flushed. Jamie shook her head and grabbed the nearly empty tumbler that sat on a coaster. She walked back to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of the zin and replenish his bourbon. Seemed like maybe her father was in a talking mood. She’d listen to what he had to say, stay calm and not ask too many questions. At least not yet. The fatigue she had experienced less than twenty minutes ago had melted away. An undercurrent of energy made her alert and focused.

  Bryce Taylor walked back to the family room. Jamie watched her dad and realized with a shock how much he had aged. He looked thinner, and the stiffness with which he moved reminded her how much time had passed since they’d last been together. Four years could take a lot out of a person. For sure it had taken a lot out of her dad. He picked up his bourbon and held it toward her for a toast. When she met her glass to his, she noticed the lines that carved deep into his face, emphasized by the shadows thrown by the firelight. A part of her wanted to go someplace and cry.

  “You’re having an interesting time,” he said.

  She remembered looking out through the back of h
er home and seeing her father standing sentinel; the repaired shed. Jamie nodded, but remained quiet.

  “Andrew gone?” His voice flowed, soft, gentle, unchanged from when she was a little girl. At least something had remained the same.

  “As far as I know.”

  “Don’t be surprised if he turns up again. Bad pennies do.”

  Again, she nodded.

  “And all of this other stuff—the FBI, fresh graves.”

  “How do you—”

  “Not important.” He put his drink down on the coaster, then took a few appetizers and put them on a plate. “You sure can cook. You got that from your mom. When we first got married, she didn’t know the difference between baste and broil, but she learned fast. I remember... well....” He stared into the fire.

  Jamie watched her father and wondered what he had gone through these last ten years. She would never know everything, regardless of how many questions she asked. Her parents had shared a love very few people experience. And look where it landed Dad... alone and bent on his own form of revenge.

  Bryce jerked his head to the side, as if mentally throwing off his memories, then turned to face her. “He’s here, Jamie. He’s back in the same place where he took your mom. I don’t have a name yet, but I’ve got the connection, and I’ve tracked him right back to Aspen Falls.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  He’d been telling himself no for hours. No more killing until the big moment. What would be the point?

  Light from the fire flickered on the polished floor and blended softly on the leather of the chairs adjusted toward the warmth. Angles and clean lines made up the rest of the room, softened by the placement of silk rugs.

  The formula was perfected. To use it again would be a waste of time and money. Except maybe I want to kill again. Maybe I even need to before the main event. Really, what could it hurt? And if this one was killed in a completely different manner than the others, just a random murder, there could be no connection.