Mermaids of Bodega Bay

by Mary Birk

  “I see. The night before the child’s body was found.”

  “Yes, Jeanne told me that FBI agent was asking where Anne was that night in case she was involved with Andrew in what happened to Lenore. So I know that night is important, too. Then, last night, he was gone all night again. And I just heard from Anne that Lucy Shearing was killed last night.” She swallowed. “We knew her. Lucy was my nurse after my last miscarriage. She stayed here at the house with us until I was better. She was obviously impressed with our home. And with Graham.”

  “And Graham?”

  “I’m not sure. I know it registered with me that she was interested in him, but I was so wrapped up in my grief, I didn’t see much else. And I knew Lucy was seeing Frank at the time. You know, the Colony Frank, Frank Bolton?”

  “I do.”

  “But now I don’t know what to think. Two people that are connected to us are murdered within a week, and Graham’s out all night both times, and he lied about being over at the house Sunday night. I don’t know what to think or believe. I know it’s probably crazy, I’m sure there’s no connection, and I know I sound like a hysterical wife, but I thought that if there is anyone who can help, it’s you. I don’t want to actually go to the police. What if he’s telling me the truth? First, I thought it was an affair, but now I don’t know. He swears he’s not having an affair. But something strange is going on.”

  “I’ll talk to him if you like. You think he’ll talk to me?”

  “I think so. You’re kind of official and not official, and you’re not me.”

  “Where’s the best place to find him right now?”

  “I don’t know. He left me a message saying he would be over at the lab working, but I don’t know if he’s there.”

  “Give me his mobile number and his number at the lab. I’ll find him and talk to him. We’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  *****

  Reid decided to try to see if he could catch Graham at work and not give him any advance warning by calling first. He headed for the laboratory, driving down the twisting road that led past the turn to the Mermaids and the Colony. The laboratory was further down Bodega Head, off Quintero Road and not far from Horseshoe Cove where Lenore’s body had been found.

  He gave the young red-haired receptionist his name and told her he was there to see Graham. Pulling a purple lollipop out of her mouth, she made a call, then put down the phone and studied him.

  “He’ll be right with you. You’re not from here.” It wasn’t a question. His accent, of course.

  “No.”

  She stared at him. “Oh, my gosh, the Scottish lord that Anne married. I saw your photo in the paper.” Then her face went bright red and the lollipop went back into her mouth.

  Reid silently cursed the news media as he walked around the laboratory waiting room examining the collection of marine life photographs that filled the walls. Finally, Graham Grainger appeared, looking cordial, albeit a little mystified, at Reid’s appearance at his work. Graham’s clothes were rumpled, like he could have slept in them, but as Reid remembered, Meg’s husband generally was a bit disheveled.

  “Terrence, good to see you.” He put out his hand to shake Reid’s, then led the way through a long corridor from the reception area and into his office. Graham motioned for him to take a seat in one of the sleekly modern chairs that, with an equally elegant couch, surrounded a glass and metal coffee table. At the other of the pristine office sat an extremely orderly desk.

  Graham went over to a Swedish coffee maker that looked as if it could launch a space shuttle. “Coffee?”

  “Sounds good.” Reid looked around. Apparently Graham kept his office as uncluttered as his home. Odd that his person was always so messy.

  Graham handed him a cup of coffee and sat down. “What brings you over here?”

  “Meg asked me to talk to you.”

  He looked at Reid blankly. “Meg? About what?”

  “I understand you didn’t go home last night.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake. She wants you to talk to me about that?” He took a drink of his coffee. “As a matter of fact, no, I didn’t go home. I’m in the middle of a rather intense project right now. So I worked late and slept on the couch here so I could get back at it early this morning.”

  Reid let his eyes slowly take in the couch in question. The gray leather upholstery and metal arms didn’t look like they’d make a comfortable bed. “You were here all night?”

  Graham looked at him steadily. “Yes. Why would she bring you in on this?”

  Not wanting to mention Lucy Shearling’s murder just yet, Reid evaded the question. “Frankly, I think Meg is worried. Not only did she say you didn’t come home last night, she says you didn’t come home the night Lenore was taken and that you told the police you had. Lied to them, to be blunt.”

  “She’s nuts. She can’t seriously think I had anything to do with Lenore’s murder.”

  “I suppose it’s hard for her to understand why you wouldn’t tell her where you went or why you would tell the authorities a lie about it if you had nothing to hide. And then there’s the lie about being at the Colony house Sunday night.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake. It doesn’t have anything to do with Lenore.”

  “Tell me what it has to do with.”

  Graham lined his coffee cup up with his pen, then gave him a just-between-us-guys look that Reid found offensive. “I’ve been seeing someone, a woman. Nothing to do with any of this other business.”

  “Who?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Sorry, not an option. I haven’t gone to the FBI with the fact that you lied, not yet, but I do have to tell them—because you lied—so you need to tell me who so it can be checked out.”

  “Checked out? You can’t just take my word for it? How long have we known each other? This is bullshit.”

  Reid thought Graham was overstating the extent of how well they knew each other. Seeing each other at a few family gatherings with Anne did not qualify as the basis for knowing anyone well. But Reid was not going to split relationship hairs.

  “You’re going to have to give her name. Probably easiest if you tell me. If you weren’t involved with what happened to Lenore, and I’m sure you weren’t, we should be able to clear it up quickly.”

  “I hate to drag her into it.”

  “This is no time for chivalry. The FBI needs to eliminate everyone close to the family from suspicion.”

  “Meg doesn’t know, and I don’t want her to know. She’ll just be upset.”

  “I think it’s too late to worry about that. She’s already upset.”

  “It’s nothing serious, just sex, but I don’t think Meg will understand.”

  Reid shrugged. “Whether you tell her is up to you. But you do need to tell me what happened Saturday night. If I can, I’ll try to explain to the FBI in a way that keeps you out of trouble.”

  “Okay.” Graham didn’t even try to hide his exasperation. “I could tell Meg was mad at me at the party, and then we had an argument in the car when we were on our way home.”

  “About what?”

  “She said I was being too, I don’t know, attentive, I guess to some of the other women at the party.”

  “And were you?”

  “Maybe. The lady I’m seeing was there. She let one of the other guys from here take her and I was a little pissed off about it. So I guess I was trying to make her jealous, let her see there were other women besides her if she was going to act like that.”

  “And Meg didn’t like it?”

  “No. We started arguing in the car. She accused me of seeing someone else. I told her she was imagining things—that she was just being suspicious and jealous and I was tired of being accused of something I hadn’t done.”

  “But of course, she wasn’t imagining things.”

  “No.”

  “And is that where you were last night, too?”

  Graham nodded, looking both e
mbarrassed and angry at the same time.

  “Who’s the lady?”

  “She’s no one. A waitress. I love Meg, but this stress about having a baby hanging over us all the time has been hard on me. On us.”

  “What’s her name?”

  Graham blew out a breath. “Gloria. Gloria Olsen. She works at the café here in town. She models for the artist colony on the side. Fucking gorgeous body.”

  Reid didn’t say anything. No need to shut Graham up by getting judgmental.

  “Anyway, Gloria came to the gala with one of the other biologists from the lab, someone she knows I don’t like, trying to make me jealous. I was afraid she might have brought the guy home with her. I used our fight as an excuse to get away from Meg so I could get to Gloria. I went by and she was alone, so, you know. Then afterwards, I fell asleep. I hadn’t meant to stay so long. It was hard to explain how I’d been driving around so long, so I just told Meg I’d slept in the car.”

  Reid got an unpleasant taste in his mouth listening to Graham’s confession about how he had deceived Meg. “And you were with the lady last night, too?”

  Graham nodded. “Gloria called and I pretended I had to go to work. I guess Meg didn’t believe me.”

  “No, I guess she didn’t.” Reid paused, then went on. “There was another murder last night. Martha Warren’s niece, Lucy Shearling in Santa Rosa.”

  “That nurse that took care of Meg?”

  “It’s a little coincidental so the FBI is looking into it. You can imagine what thoughts must have been running through Meg’s mind when on two nights you don’t come home, someone you know gets killed and you keep telling her you aren’t seeing anyone.”

  Graham rolled his eyes. “She can’t honestly have thought I was involved.”

  “You’ll have to ask her that. Meanwhile, someone will confirm your story with Ms. Olsen.”

  “I wouldn’t make something up that could be so easily checked.”

  “Nonetheless, it’s got to be done. In the meantime, I would ask that you not contact her. You need to let your story be confirmed without your interference.”

  “I have to let her know that I gave them her name. Otherwise, she might lie and say I wasn’t there. To protect me from Meg finding out.”

  “Don’t contact her before she’s interviewed. You could already be in trouble for lying to the authorities. I believe they might construe any action like that on your part as witness tampering. Hopefully, they won’t want to take any action against you, but I can’t guarantee that.”

  Graham winced. “I guess I’m going to have to tell Meg. I’m just afraid of how she’ll take it. ”

  He appeared distraught, but Reid couldn’t tell if it was because he had been caught or because of the pain he had caused his wife. Reid shook his head. “At least it’s better news than you being a murderer.”

  Graham gave a short mirthless laugh. “Let’s hope she agrees.”

  *****

  Reid went into the little take-out place near the marina for lunch and ordered a fried clam sandwich and coleslaw. He took his food and hot tea to one of the deserted tables outside where he could watch the boats in the marina, although there wasn’t much activity there right now. The fishing boats would have gone out much earlier and this wasn’t the season for recreational boating.

  It was too chilly for anyone else to want to eat outside, but he didn’t mind the weather. It felt a little like home, like the fresh, cold wind that blew across Dunbaryn this time of year. Although Dunbaryn wasn’t on the sea, the big loch on the estate had wide banks—one of the places where he trained his dogs and falcons. The loch’s deep waters were icy and never warmed up much, even in the summer, but the boating and fishing were superb.

  He missed Scotland. But he wanted it all, Scotland with Anne in it.

  Reid had avoided her since Tuesday night. Early this morning, he’d heard her going down the stairs and watched from the window as she got in her car and drove away. She didn’t have her brown leather bag with her, so he doubted that she had been going to work. Memories of early mornings with Anne in bed tortured him. He didn’t want to think about where she might have gone.

  He didn’t have to stay here. He could just leave now. Go back to Scotland and wait for Anne to serve him with divorce papers.

  Reid picked at his lunch, feeling more than a little despondent. When he felt his mobile vibrate, he answered, not bothering to check the caller i.d. He didn’t care much who called. Anyone who could take his mind off of his thoughts would be welcome.

  Unfortunately, his caller turned out to be Andrew Grainger. Not exactly someone to distract him from his problems.

  “Could you come by the Colony? I have something I want to talk to you about.”

  Reid closed his eyes, and the fried smell of his food suddenly made his stomach queasy. Don’t let it be about Anne. Please, God. She would have told him. She would have called. Or would she have? That he was avoiding her had to be obvious. Maybe she had made her decision and thought it was best to let Grainger tell him to leave.

  An empty feeling spread from the pit of his stomach to his head, and for the first time since he was a small boy, he wanted to cry. Cry for his loss, cry for his stupidity, cry at the prospect of this numbing loneliness being his life.

  He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to sound calm, normal. “Certainly. Give me fifteen minutes.”

  He closed the phone and threw his lunch in the rubbish bin.

  Chapter 56

  REID WAITED IN THE STUDY for Grainger to join him. Hands in his pockets, he studied the family photographs that filled the room. He walked around the desk so he could see the ones that faced whoever was seated at the desk. He’d never been on this side of the desk, never seen these photos. One was of Lenore in a ballet dress. Next to it, a photograph of Anne, taken at Christmas, judging by the lighted tree behind her image. Her hair shimmered in the light of the tree. Her full lips opened in a wide smile and he thought miserably about all the smiles she’d given away that should have been his.

  He picked up the third framed photograph—a Grainger family Christmas photo. The family sat around the fireplace. The children were dressed in their holiday finery. The adults all had champagne glasses full of golden liquid, and the children held small glasses of what he guessed was a sparkling soft drink. The coffee table held little cakes and nuts. He looked at the group: the Graingers, the Echeverrias, and, next to Andrew and Lenore Grainger, sat Anne in the same dress as in the other Christmas photo.

  She’d spent Christmas with Grainger.

  Christmas. He had been at his family’s home in Scotland, refusing to answer any of their tentative inquiries as to Anne’s whereabouts other than to give a terse explanation of her job keeping her too busy to be able to come. The holiday had been unbearable with the house full of family and friends and children—his sister Pippa’s children and the children of their friends. Without Anne he had been miserable. She, on the other hand, was smiling and having her photograph taken with the Graingers and celebrating the holiday with them. He turned away from the photograph and her bewitching smile and went over to the window.

  Why hadn’t he just agreed to her two-year long distance marriage plan? They were almost at the two year mark now, anyway, but if he hadn’t been so stubborn, instead of having been apart as they had been, she would have been with him—not every day, certainly, but definitely sometimes. He would have been the one with her at Christmas, he would have been the one taking her on vacation to surf or ski, he would have been the one taking her sailing, and he would have been the one making love to her.

  Maybe they would have bought a house for when she was ready to move to Scotland.

  Andrew Grainger came in the room and closed the door behind him. “Thanks for coming.” He crossed the room and shook Reid’s hand.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” Reid braced himself for whatever the other man was going to say.

  “They never got back to me on how the
polygraph turned out. Did you hear anything?”

  Reid had, but he couldn’t tell Grainger. The chief had shared the results of the polygraph tests with him without Shelton’s okay. McLendon had been disgusted that, after making such a big deal about them taking the tests, the FBI agent didn’t have the good grace to tell the subjects the results. Especially Anne, with her results so definitive. But Reid could not betray the chief’s confidence, so he kept his answer short and truthful. “The FBI hasn’t seen fit to share that information yet.”

  “I was asking more for Anne than me. I’m hoping they’ll leave Anne alone after they see her results. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” He motioned for Reid to sit down in the chair facing the desk, then took the one behind the desk. “I don’t know if this means anything or will help, but at this point, I don’t know what will. I just want to catch whoever did this to my little girl.” Grainger had been through hell, but most likely, his trip through hell wasn’t over yet, and probably would never be over. “I wanted to show it to you and see if you thought the FBI or police would want to look at it. I’m aware that I’m their primary suspect and didn’t feel comfortable going to them with it until I talked to you.”

  “I’m glad to help in any way I can.”

  Grainger opened the bottom left hand drawer. He took out a bound book with a copper inset of a Mediterranean sunburst on top and handed it to Reid.

  “This was Marisol’s diary from the year she was pregnant with Lenore. There might be something in it that would shed some light on the questions everyone’s been asking. You know, about who Marisol…” Grainger’s pain showed on his face, but was quickly replaced with resolve. “Who got Marisol pregnant. Who she was sleeping with.”

  So it hadn’t been Anne he wanted to talk about. Grainger actually had just taken Anne at her word and trusted that Reid was there to help. Reid felt a little humbled, but mostly, he felt relieved.

  Reid thumbed through the pages, allowing himself time to recover. “You’ve read it?”

  “I’ve read parts in the past, but really more skimmed it than read it. It made me too sad. I thought it was better for Lenore if I concentrated on the present and didn’t dwell in the past.” He paused. “And it was better for me, too. Anyway, Marisol always kept a diary. This one was the only one I kept out. The rest are in a chest in a room upstairs where I was keeping some of Marisol’s things for Lenore, but if you need to see those, I can get them.”