by Rayna Morgan
The man who approached tried to straighten his posture, but the reason for his slump was more than age-related. Ralph Palmer produced a small smile for Lea and her mother as he shook hands with Lea’s father.
“Thank you for coming,” their neighbor said. “It would have meant a lot to Cate.”
“It’s a lovely setting,” Lea assured him. “The way your daughter would want to be remembered.”
“If you would move to the front of the boat, we’re ready to begin.”
The ceremony was short, no more than fifteen minutes. Cate’s father and her brother, Sean, shared favorite stories. The mother stood silently, unable to speak.
Music played softly over the speakers as an urn filled with ashes was lowered into the ocean and rose petals formed a trail behind the boat. The ship’s bell sounded eight times signifying final watch.
Each person stepped to the rail and dropped a flower. Sean wrote a message on a seashell and threw it into the ocean.
There was little conversation during the vessel’s return to shore. As the setting sun reflected in the water, a sense of sorrowful peace enveloped the occupants.
• • •
Lea’s long, auburn hair blew in the wind as she leaned on the boat’s railing. Her father, Warren Conley, took a place beside her to admire the San Diego skyline.
“I find the ocean comforting at a time like this,” she said, tucking her arm through his. “A force which continues forever, beautiful and teaming with life.”
He waved toward the city and the harbor. “It’s a beautiful sight. Does it make you miss the place where you grew up?”
“This city has grown too big for me, Dad. Buena Viaje is more to my liking now,” she said, referring to the small town several hours north where she lived with her husband, Paul, and their teenage son.
“That’s what your sister said after her divorce when she followed your advice to leave Los Angeles and move to Buena Viaje.”
“We still love visiting you and Mom. I only wish it hadn’t been under tragic circumstances this time. I couldn’t believe it when you called with the news. It seems like yesterday, I was babysitting Cate and Sean.”
“It’s always jarring when a person dies young, especially in such a manner.” After a moment, he added, “I’m sorry Maddy couldn’t come with you to the funeral.”
“Sis couldn’t find anyone to take her shift at the furniture store. Besides, several customers hired her for interior design services which will result in extra commissions she’s looking forward to.”
“Is that the reason or is she tied up with that detective boyfriend of hers?”
“To tell the truth, Maddy hates funerals. She avoids them like the plague.”
“I can’t say I blame her. Funerals when someone dies from other than natural causes are even more difficult.”
“You told me it was a hit-and-run. I hope Cate wasn’t the victim of a drunk driver.”
“The police haven’t found the driver or the vehicle that ran Cate’s car off the road. It happened in a remote location where there were no roadway cameras and little chance of witnesses. The car will be difficult to track without the make and model. Of course, the police alerted auto-body shops. They'll be on the lookout for anyone seeking repairs for a vehicle which may have been damaged in a hit-and-run.”
“That information won’t provide much comfort to the Palmers.”
“There’s not much the authorities can do. They’ll consider the case closed unless relevant information comes to light.” Warren spoke with the expertise provided by a distinguished career with the police department, including his tenure as Chief of Police.
“Cate was such a sweet girl,” Lea said. “Her family deserves to know the truth of what happened and whoever ran her off the road deserves to be punished.”
“You’re right. The person should have stopped to render aid. She may have been alive after the accident occurred. With a prompt call to emergency, we might not be on this boat today.”
He glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice. “However, your recall of the sweet, innocent girl you took care of is a nice memory, but not an accurate picture of who Cate became after you married and moved away.”
Lea was intrigued. “Tell me, Dad.”
A horn blew, signaling the boat’s entry into the harbor.
“Another time. I need to find your mother. Will you be staying with us a couple of days before you head back to Buena Viaje?”
“I have no pending projects.” Lea referred to her job as a free-lance business writer. “I’ll stay until Jon complains about his father’s cooking and begs me to come home.”
Warren smiled. “I’ve sampled Paul’s cooking. If that’s the criterion, you won’t be staying long.”
• • •
Cate’s family stood on the dock to say goodbye.
As Lea hugged Sean, he whispered in her ear. “Could you meet me for a drink later? I’d like to talk with you about Cate.”
“Of course, but I haven’t been in touch with your sister for years. You should speak with Dad if you have questions about the accident although I can tell you, there’s little to report in that regard.”
Sean shook his head. “It’s not something I care to discuss with anyone but you.”
For the second time that day, Lea was intrigued. “When and where do you want to meet?”
“At the Wheelhouse in an hour.”
“The Wheelhouse Restaurant at Seaport Village?”
He nodded. “That’s the one.”
“See you there.”
Grabbing her sleeve as she moved away, he jerked his head in the direction of their parents. “Don’t tell them.”
Chapter 3
As Lea weaved her way through Seaport Village, the setting sun created shadows transforming her surroundings to a scene reminiscent of a previous century. Lamp posts bathed the walks in soft yellow hues and lights from stores and restaurants twinkled on the surface of the bay.
Her destination was a landmark restaurant on the pier known for delicious seafood and sweeping views.
When she arrived, the dining area of the Wheelhouse was filled with happy tourists, talking and laughing. It was a stark contrast to the somber group of people on the boat hours earlier. Lea wondered why Cate’s brother had chosen it as a meeting place.
She climbed the stairs to the upper deck where happy hour was underway. Sean waved at her from the bar and she sat on a wooden stool beside him. The bartender placed a coaster in front of her and Sean made introductions.
“Lea, this is Tim. He makes the best martini in town.”
The bartender smiled and bowed.
“Lea was my next-door neighbor when I was growing up,” Sean continued. “She and her father kept me on the straight and narrow during my formative years.”
Lea blushed as she reached to shake hands.
“I can only take credit for preventing Sean from cheating when he played games with his sister. My father’s influence as chief of police was more dramatic. When Sean stole a twenty-dollar bill from his mother’s purse, Dad threatened to throw him in jail.”
“A policeman makes quite an impression on a boy,” Tim said. “If there was a cop around when I grew up, my mother would have suffered fewer sleepless nights.”
They all laughed and Tim asked Lea what she wanted to drink.
She turned to Sean. “What are you having?”
He took a sip of his beverage. “Bourbon neat.”
It was hard for Lea to relate the mature young man beside her with the sensitive boy who cried when he lost playing games.
“I’d like a glass of Riesling,” she said.
When Tim walked away, Lea turned to Sean. “Do you come here often?”
“It’s where Cate worked. Being here makes me feel close to her, like we’re still in touch.”
“Did she work as a hostess or a waitress?”
“Both, but mostly as a waitress. She told her customers about
places to visit in San Diego. Sea World, Gaslamp Quarter, Balboa Park, Old Town, Little Italy. She was a regular tour guide. It earned her big tips.” He ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “Once or twice a month, I’d come here for a late dinner. When Cate got off, we’d go clubbing and catch up.”
The bartender returned with Lea’s wine and Sean pointed at his glass. “I’ll have another, Tim.”
When his empty glass was replaced, Sean continued.
“The last couple of months, Cate made excuses. We didn’t see much of each other.” He dropped his head. “The last time I saw her, we argued.”
Lea sensed they were getting to the reason Sean wanted to talk. Any time the youngsters fought, he came to Lea and asked her to patch things up. Her heart ached for him. This time she wouldn’t be able to set things right between them.
“If it’s any comfort, I don’t believe people carry those memories with them when they go,” she told him. “They leave bad feelings behind, just like they let go of worry and pain. Love is all that remains.”
Sean nodded and stared into space. When he spoke again, there was more anger in his voice than sadness. “Our last conversation keeps running through my head.”
“Maybe it will help to talk about it so it doesn’t stay bottled up inside.”
“I want you to hear, but not because I’m remorseful over our last words. I’m angry because the conversation makes me suspect her death was not an accident.”
“Sean, you can’t be serious!”
“I think my sister was deliberately run off the road. I believe Cate was murdered.”
Lea could barely contain her surprise. “I can’t imagine there being a reason for anyone to harm your sister.”
“Cate wasn’t as innocent as people thought. She had changed since you moved away.”
Lea recalled a similar comment from her father but she smiled and placed a hand on Sean’s arm. “We all change as we get older. It’s part of growing up. As much as we wish the people we love would stay sweet and innocent forever, that can’t happen.”
“She changed in different ways.”
Lea withdrew her hand. “Tell me.”
“She got bored her freshman year of college and dropped out. With most of her friends in school, she found a new crowd to run with. A group into drinking and drugs. She hung out at clubs filled with self-centered people and never-ending booze where she and her friends satisfied their need to see and be seen. Before long, she lost touch with old friends and rarely communicated with me or our parents. It’s as though she stopped caring about anyone but herself.”
“Were there triggers for her change in behavior?”
“It started months ago when she got involved with a married man. She acted snooty and put on airs as though having an affair with some big shot politician made her special in some way. In my mind, it only made her a woman ruining another woman’s marriage. I told her so.”
“How did Cate react?”
“She shut me out. For weeks, she didn’t return my calls. When I came to see her, she claimed to be too busy to go out after work. I didn’t care but the way she neglected our parents burned me up.”
From the pained look on his face, Lea doubted that Sean didn’t care.
“Were your parents concerned when they didn’t hear from her?”
“I told them to stop wasting time worrying. It was obvious she wasn’t thinking of us.” He shrugged at the memory. “They worried all the same.”
“Did you and Cate get back in touch?”
“Two months ago, she called to apologize for avoiding me. According to her, she ended the affair with the married guy and had a new boyfriend she wanted me to meet. She planned to introduce him to our parents.”
“That must have made you feel better.”
“Not really. I hardly considered it a step up when I met him.”
“Does this guy you don’t like have a name?” Lea asked.
“Mario. Mario Torres. But don’t get me wrong. I don’t dislike Mario. He’s all right and I could tell he was crazy about Cate.”
He reached for the bowl of snacks Tim placed in front of them.
“It’s his associates I don’t like. I suspect them of dealing drugs. I think they use Mario as a runner.”
“How could they do that?”
“Mario works on a cruise ship making three and seven-day trips to Ensenada, Cabo, and La Paz. His job is to provide fun and games for the guests.”
“He’s a member of the entertainment staff?”
“Yeah. He’s a natural. Besides being good-looking, he’s outgoing like Cate. He uses his experience as a disc jockey to host shipboard karaoke events and parties. On special voyages, a room is set up for gambling where Mario works as a croupier.”
“Sounds like a fun job,” Lea said.
“It also provides an opportunity to carry things back and forth across the border without being checked by customs.”
“You mentioned his job as a disc jockey.”
“That’s where Cate met him. He earns extra money as a DJ at an edgy, underground nightclub where my sister took me to introduce us. I met Mario in a room filled with people dancing to electronic music so loud we couldn’t carry on a conversation. The only good thing I could see from our first meeting was that he wasn’t married.”
“I went to one of those clubs once,” Lea recalled. “It was only one flight below street level but as far removed from the real world as a person can get. It wasn’t my scene.”
“Nor mine.”
“Did you see more of Mario?”
“On two other occasions,” Sean said. “I stopped by the Wheelhouse one night and found him waiting for Cate to get off. The two of us had a drink and talked sports. When her shift ended, it was obvious they had plans. They didn’t ask me to join them so I left.”
“And the second time?”
“She brought Mario to dinner at our parents’ home. Mom asked me to come to act as a buffer in case Dad didn’t approve. He was always rough on Cate’s boyfriends. Complained they were never good enough.”
“Did your father approve this time?”
“Surprisingly, he did. I figured Mario would blow it when Dad asked what he did for a living. He talked about his job on the cruise ship and how much he enjoyed entertaining the youngsters. He neglected to mention playing music in sizzling nightclubs for late-night party crowds.
“When we left the dinner, I asked Mario why he didn’t talk about his moonlight gig. He made a flippant comment about it being pointless since our father wouldn’t be familiar with the club.”
Sean popped a handful of nuts in his mouth. “It made me wonder what things he hadn't bothered to tell Cate.”
• • •
Lea was flung forward as her chair was bumped.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
The young man stammering an apology wore black pants and a white shirt. The tray he carried was filled with olives, cherries, and limes. His face turned a deep shade of red as he walked behind the bar.
“I brought your condiments from the kitchen, Tim.” His speech was slow and drawn out. “I sliced the limes myself.”
“Thanks, Danny,” Tim said. “Hey, cheer up. Where’s that big smile our customers love?”
The busboy hung his head. “Sorry. I don’t feel like smiling.”
When he saw Sean sitting at the bar, he hurried over and inserted himself between the barstools.
“How did the ceremony go?” he asked. “I wanted to be there so bad but my boss said no.”
Sean placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “That’s not the reason you didn’t come. You get seasick, remember? We had the ceremony on a boat. You would have been miserable.”
“Cate’s not here.” The young man’s eyes moistened. “That makes me miserable.”
“You better go downstairs,” Tim told him. “There’s a big crowd tonight. They need you in the dining room.”
He wiped the bar as he watched the
busboy descend the stairs. “I hope he gets over Cate’s death soon. If he keeps moping, the boss may send him home.”
“Who is he?” Lea asked.
“His name is Danny Brown,” Sean said. “I would have introduced you but he might not remember. He’s twenty-four years old with the IQ of a person half his age. His father took off when the boy was young. Couldn’t cope with a kid with disabilities. The boy’s mother raised him on her own. In my opinion, she’s done a bang-up job. Everyone likes Danny and there’s not a person on the planet he dislikes.”
“Especially Cate,” Tim added.
“What do you mean?” Lea asked.
Sean explained. “Danny’s had a crush on my sister since the day she applied for a job.”
Lea looked to the main floor where the busboy cleared dishes from an empty table. Her heart melted, seeing Danny’s brave attempt to smile and show happiness he clearly wasn’t feeling.
“Everyone has their own way of processing the death of a person they care about,” she said.
“It’s more than that,” Tim replied. “He’s taking her death personally. Almost like he’s responsible in some way.”
• • •
Lea turned her attention back to Sean. “What are your reasons for feeling your sister was murdered?”
“For one thing, the police told my parents there was a significant amount of alcohol in her system at the time of death.”
“That might be the reason the hit-and-run proved fatal,” Lea said. “In her condition, she couldn’t do anything to help herself when her car was hit. Are you questioning the report?”
“Cate stopped drinking heavily after a friend of hers died from alcohol poisoning. She wanted nothing to do with booze or drugs. In fact, she told me any use by Mario would cause their breakup.”
“How do you explain the toxicology report?”
“The police are lying,” he said stubbornly. “Or someone got her drunk before they ran her off the road.”
“Any supposition of drug involvement leads back to Mario.”
“That’s what I’m telling you.” Anger flashed like lightning in his eyes. “If my sister’s death wasn’t an accident, her boyfriend and his drug-peddling companions are to blame.”