Mermaids of Bodega Bay

by Mary Birk

  The doctor’s eyes lifted up, apparently surprised that he’d been asked for an alibi, then said, “Home. They roll the streets up in Bodega Bay after ten, so even if Rita and I wanted to go somewhere, there isn’t anywhere to go. Besides, we’d had a long day, and Rita’s feet were killing her.”

  As if on cue, Rita Kempton slid up beside her husband. “I had new shoes on,” she explained. “My feet are still killing me.”

  The doctor’s face became solicitous. “Poor darling.”

  Jack rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 16

  JACK STIRRED his coffee and walked over to the kitchen window, then looked over at where Anne’s sister Jeanne was making sandwiches.

  “This is a great house. Have you lived here all your life?”

  “Till I went to college,” she smiled. “We’re, or I guess I, am opening it as a bed and breakfast soon.”

  “Seems like a great place for it.”

  “I’m hoping to get some of the overflow from artists coming to conferences at the Colony. Anne’s been helping by re-doing the gardens in her after-work time.” She put the unused sandwich ingredients back into the refrigerator, then gestured out the window toward a garden area that seemed to encircle that side of the house. “You can’t tell right now, but the gardens are going to be great in a month or two.”

  He squinted. “It looks finished to me already. But I can’t tell what’s new.”

  “That’s the idea. We’ll have all sorts of herbs and flowers to use in the B and B. She put in mature fruit trees to go along with the berry bushes that had been here forever so we’ll have our own fruit, too, with any luck. And we have a greenhouse on the other side. She’s amazing with plants.”

  “Impressive. So Anne’s working in Bodega Bay?”

  “She’s renovating the gardens at the Colony.”

  Now he remembered. Anne did garden stuff, hence the massacred hands. “Helps to have connections. Andrew Grainger had something to do with her getting the job, I assume.”

  “Actually, the Board hired her firm. She’s in charge of the project, though. She’s considered to be one of the best new historic garden designers in the country.” Jeanne’s pride was evident.

  He nodded. “So, are Anne and Terrence divorced?”

  “Separated.”

  “They must still be on okay terms.”

  She put a plate of pickles on the tray. “I guess so.”

  “But the marriage is over? Or at least she’s seeing other men?”

  She gave him a look like, how obvious can you be? He guessed this wasn’t the first time a man had pumped Jeanne for information about her gorgeous sister’s availability. Ironic when this woman’s appeal wasn’t any less than her sister’s. More subtle, maybe, but no less potent.

  “She’s seeing Andrew, anyway.” Jeanne’s tone said he hadn’t fooled her. “You’ll just have to get in line behind all the rest of the men in the world who are waiting for Anne to be free again.”

  He grinned, pretending that Jeanne had gotten it right. “So things between her and Reid are over?”

  “If you’re asking me if he’d mind if you put your hat in the ring, I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.” She picked up the platter of sandwiches to take them into the parlor. “If you could get the door for me, please?”

  Chapter 17

  JACK HUNG UP his cell phone, looked around the parlor, and heard opportunity knocking. Apparently exhausted, Grainger slept in the worn brown leather chair by the fire. Anne was lying down on the sofa, her fingers paging through a book about gravel pathways, although she did not seem to be focusing. Jeanne had gone upstairs with her children and the others had left earlier after demolishing an incredible pile of sandwiches and getting assurances they’d be called if there was any news.

  Jack kept his voice low so as not to wake Grainger. “Anne, can we go in the kitchen so I can ask you some more questions without disturbing Andrew?”

  “Of course. It’s a little chilly in here, don’t you think?” Not waiting for an answer, she went over to Grainger and carefully tucked a blanket around him, then kissed his forehead.

  Jack opened the kitchen door and let her pass in front of him. Absolutely goddamned beautiful. All the Michaels sisters were good looking, but only Anne exuded that elemental sexuality that made a guy feel aroused just looking at her. She didn’t seem to be trying to do it; she was just that type of woman. What was that song about never making a pretty woman your wife if you wanted to be happy? But he probably didn’t need to worry. She obviously went for rich guys. Grainger and Reid, both. Grainger was rolling it in, and Reid came from some old family in Scotland that owned a whiskey distillery, one of the well-known labels. His father had a title and a castle. A poor FBI agent wouldn’t have a chance. Even if he wanted to get involved with an opportunistic and poisonous bitch.

  She gestured to the kitchen window where a view of the sea filled the horizon. “Starting in January, you can see the whales migrating past Bodega Head. There’s a place I go where you can just sit for hours and watch.”

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  She went on. “Sometimes you can see them spouting, or sometimes just their long wet fish tails sparkling in the sunlight. When we were young, my sisters and I used to think those were mermaid tails, flashing in and out of the waves.” Her eyes sought his. “You don’t have children, do you?”

  “No.”

  “I know you were divorced. Are you still single?”

  Jack studied her. In addition to being perhaps the hottest woman on earth, she paid attention, complete, rapt, attention, when she was talking to you. She wasn’t coming on to him, but he caught a glimpse of what it would be like if she did. “Yes, and still paying alimony. Did you know Andrew when you were a kid?”

  “Not really. I mean everyone knew the family, they’re kind of the local celebrities. He’s older than me—ten, eleven years older. I’d see him around.”

  “Does he remember you?”

  “He says so.” She smiled, her expression skeptical, but Jack didn’t believe for one moment that she didn’t realize the power she had over men. “I don’t know if he really does. We did find some photos we’re both in—on the beach or in races—sailing races. I was a little kid though, and he was a teenager. By the time I was fourteen and interested in boys, he was grown up and already an established artist. I don’t think I actually met him until Meg and Graham got engaged. I was in college.” Anne pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down.

  Jack sat down across from her. “Why don’t you go over last night for me—from when you arrived at the Grainger house to the time you left? You don’t mind if I record it?” He put his recorder on the table between them.

  “No, of course not.”

  Jack listened as Anne went through a detailed account of the time before the party with Lenore, then of the party, who was there, what they did, but nothing caught Jack’s attention.

  “And afterwards?”

  “Martha left, the caterers cleaned up, and we went upstairs. Andrew checked on Lenore. Then we went to bed.” She looked away, obviously uncomfortable. Not too uncomfortable to fuck around on her husband, just too delicate to want to talk about it.

  “During the night, did you hear anything, see anything?”

  “I heard the storm. It was loud, a lot of thunder and lightning and heavy rain.”

  “Did Lenore wake up?”

  “Not while I was there.”

  “Would you have noticed if Andrew left if you were sleeping? Would you have woken up?”

  “I think so. He was there all the time as far as I know.” She frowned. “You can’t think he had anything to do with this?”

  “No, of course not. Go on.” Jack saw no reason to put her on her guard, but the family was always suspect in a kidnapping.

  “I left without waking Andrew. It was raining and I just went out the front door and left.” Remembering, she went on, “I took my dress and my ove
rnight case. And my flowers—Andrew gave me a beautiful mercury glass vase filled with yellow roses for Valentine’s Day and I took it home with me.” She motioned upstairs. “It’s up in my room.”

  “Isn’t there an alarm system?”

  “Yes.” She fidgeted and his senses went on alert.

  “Why wasn’t it on?”

  She put her hand on her forehead and shook her head. “He doesn’t use it if I’m there.”

  “He said he doesn’t use it much at all.”

  Anne sighed. “He uses it if I’m not there.”

  “Why not if you’re there?”

  “I like to be able to leave when I want without waking him up.”

  “His idea or yours?”

  “Mine.” She bit her lip and those big blue eyes implored him. For what?

  He kept quiet, letting his silence force her to go on.

  Tears filled her eyes, started spilling over the edges. She wiped them away with her hand, and he wasn’t surprised no make-up smears followed. The magical spell of perfection that surrounded her wouldn’t have allowed it.

  “If I hadn’t been there, the alarm would have been on, and the kidnappers wouldn’t have been able to take Lenore.”

  “Why didn’t Andrew just give you the alarm code and let you re-set it when you left?”

  “It makes noise when you turn it off. Beeps, you know. He’d wake up, and I didn’t want that. So he just left it off if I was there.” She dropped her face into her hands.

  “Andrew doesn’t blame you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “But I do.”

  Jack didn’t bother to offer any words of comfort. “Did the child come in Andrew’s room while you were last night?”

  “No.”

  “He locks the bedroom door when you’re there?”

  She looked down, embarrassed. “For a while. Then he unlocks it afterwards.”

  Shelton wasn’t going to let her get away with acting like a blushing virgin. “You mean he locks it when you’re having sex.”

  She nodded.

  “Yes?” He pointed to the recorder, indicating he needed a verbal answer.

  “Yes.”

  “And did he unlock it afterwards last night?”

  “When we went up to bed, he locked it for a while, and then he unlocked it before we went to sleep. He locked it again later.”

  Shelton frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “We woke up later, at about one-thirty, and, you know. He locked it then.”

  “So you had sex when you went to bed, before which he locked the door, and after which you remember him unlocking it. Then you woke up, he locked the door again, and you had sex again?” He was going to make her say it for the recording.

  “Yes.”

  “The second time, you don’t remember him unlocking the door?”

  “I was asleep, but he always does. He worries about Lenore.”

  “Okay.” He clicked off the recorder and put his notebook back in his pocket. “I may have more questions later. You’re staying here? I mean when you’re not doing a sleepover?” He didn’t try to disguise his disdain for her anymore.

  Her face flashed defiance when she heard his tone. “Terrence broke off our marriage, Jack. Long before Andrew and I got together. So you can lose the attitude.”

  Shelton’s cell phone rang and he waved her away and took the call, turning his back. He felt a twinge of satisfaction at having gotten past the perfect mask of Anne Michaels, but he still needed to find out what happened to her marriage to Reid and exactly how the relationship with Grainger fit in. It may not have anything to do with the kidnapping, but any time there was something hinky in a situation, it was best not to ignore it.

  And however you slice it, having your husband come to the rescue of your lover is hinky.

  Chapter 18

  ANNE BREATHED DOWN her anger, resisted the urge to kick Shelton in the knees, or even better, someplace higher up, and returned to the parlor. Andrew straightened and opened his eyes as if he’d sensed her presence.

  “I must have fallen asleep. Did anything happen?”

  She focused on Andrew’s need for her, making herself channel a calmness she didn’t feel. “Jack just got a call. He’s having Dougal pick Martha up and bring her over to the Colony house, I guess to interview her. And it sounded like they were talking about the search of the grounds, but I don’t know if they found anything.” She went over to him and leaned down over him from the back of the chair, hugging him. He took her hands from around his neck and held them.

  He examined her face. “You’ve been crying.”

  “A little.” Anne decided not to tell him about Jack being such a jerk. He didn’t need to worry about her right now, and she knew he’d be upset.

  “We’re going to get her back.” He gently pulled her around to bring her in front of him. Anne sat in his lap and his arms held her tightly against him.

  She took a deep breath before speaking. “Andrew, I had to tell him about the alarm being off because of me. They need to know it was my fault, not yours.”

  “Oh, babe. It wasn’t your fault. ” He smoothed her hair, explaining what Jack had told him, that if a child was targeted for a ransom kidnapping, eventually the kidnappers would find a time when the child was unguarded, that it was rarely a crime of random opportunity.

  Jack certainly hadn’t said anything like that to her. But it didn’t matter because nothing anyone could say could disabuse Anne of her conviction that at some level, it was her fault. Not completely, of course, but if it hadn’t been for her, the kidnapping wouldn’t have taken place last night.

  They moved apart when Jack walked back in the room, and Anne concentrated on keeping her face impassive. She’d be damned if she’d let the asshole know he’d upset her. But he ignored her, speaking only to Andrew.

  “Everything is set up, so I can take you back to the house.”

  Andrew stood up, exhaling a sigh of relief. “Finally. Let’s go.” He frowned at Anne when she didn’t move to get up. “You’re coming, too, aren’t you?”

  She shook her head. “I think it’s probably best if I stay here.”

  He encircled her with his arms. “Please, Anne.” His voice was full of a raw need that tore at her heart.

  “I can’t.” She kept her voice low, not wanting Jack to hear her. She’d been taken aback at his hostility towards her. He hadn’t been like that when she’d met him other times with Terrence. No, this was new, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “Of course you can. Go up and put a bag together. If you’re tired, you can go up to bed and sleep until it’s time for the call.”

  She whispered, “I can’t be there with you when Terrence is there.”

  “How could he mind? He’s the one that ended things.” His eyes pleaded with her, looking for an answer she could not give. But she knew staying here was the right thing for her to do for everyone’s sake.

  “I just can’t.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her so hard she could taste blood. “I’ll call.”

  *****

  Anne watched the FBI agent’s car winding down the road away from her, then wandered over to the chair where Andrew had been sitting. She folded up the blanket he had thrown off when he left, squeezed her eyes shut, and said a silent prayer. Everything would be okay. They would find Lenore and bring her home safely.

  She went over a cabinet where Jeanne kept the crystal, opened the leaded glass doors and took out two wine glasses. Then she went to the kitchen and took a cold bottle of dry white wine out of the refrigerator. She filled both glasses and went to find Jeanne.

  She found her sister upstairs in the small nook in her bedroom that she had made into a home office.

  Jeanne looked up. “Did they leave?”

  Anne handed her a glass of wine, but didn’t meet her sister’s eyes. “Yes, just now. Where are the kids?”

  “Playing in Phillip’s room. I haven’t told them anyth
ing yet.” Jeanne clicked her computer mouse to save her work. “What a nightmare.”

  “Lenore must be so frightened.”

  “They’ll get her back, I’m sure.” Jeanne’s voice sounded confident.

  Anne nodded. Then, remembering something that had bothered her earlier, she asked, “Do you know why Meg looked so awful before she had even heard about Lenore?”

  Jeanne grimaced. “Graham. They had an argument after the Valentine’s Gala. He dropped her off at home after the party and didn’t come back until early this morning. I told her she should have just cancelled picking the kids up for Sunday school, but she didn’t want to disappoint them.”

  “He didn’t come home? Where did he go?”

  “She doesn’t know, but she thinks he’s seeing someone.”

  Anne just couldn’t imagine it. Graham was a little over-bearing, but Anne had always thought of him as boringly predictable. Then she remembered how Meg had acted at the party: wary, unhappy, and tense. “Who?”

  “She thinks maybe one of the graduate students at the lab. He’s always saying he has to work late or going back to the lab to work at night and on the weekends.”

  “Has she asked him outright?”

  “Yes, but he just keeps telling her nothing’s going on.”

  Anne bit her lip. Meg had been through so much. She’d had four miscarriages—the last one had been in October, in her sixth month. They hadn’t been able to save the baby.

  “I hope she’s wrong.”

  “Me, too. She doesn’t need anything else right now.” Jeanne powered off her computer. “I promised the kids pizza for dinner and another movie night at home. How’s that sound to you?”

  “I’ll be glad to keep you company, but I don’t think I’ll be very hungry.”

  “Terrence is staying over there tonight?” Jeanne’s voice was studiedly casual, but Anne knew she was fishing. Terrence was a delicate subject, so Jeanne would be careful.

  Anne tried to match her sister’s tone. “They have to wait for the call and then, hopefully, go get Lenore. I don’t know how long that will take. If she’s back tonight, I’d guess he wouldn’t stay there, but I don’t know.”