Just For A Heartbeat (Piper Anderson Legacy Mystery Book 2)

by Danielle Stewart

  “Why?” Erin asked, sounding annoyed.

  “I’d like to gather more information. There wasn’t much to go on in your sister’s file. I thought if you could recall more about the boat or the events leading up to her disappearance it would be helpful.”

  “Is this some kind of prank? Did Clara put you up to this? It’s not very funny.” Erin sounded nervous, a faint giggle in her shaking voice.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Patrick asked, his brows knitting together with concern.

  “Are you talking about what happened when we were kids? Like in 1990?” Erin’s voice was high as she broke up each word with a tiny snicker.

  “Yes, in the fall of that year your father reported Clara missing. You made a statement that you saw her getting on a boat.”

  “I did,” Erin agreed cautiously. “But like two weeks later Clara and the dirt bag fisherman she ran off to Canada with came slinking back. They realized being broke makes being in love and finding ways to eat every day hard. Wait, am I in trouble because I lied? I was a kid; I was trying to cover for my big sister. You can’t come after me now for that, can you?” The small laugh had disappeared and was replaced by genuine fear.

  “No, Erin. I’m sorry; you aren’t in any trouble. I guess the case was never appropriately closed.”

  “My father told his friend who was a cop on the case that my sister was back. I guess he didn’t do anything official like he should have. But I can assure you Clara is alive and well. She lives down the street from me, and our kids go to the same school.”

  “Thank you for the information, and I’m glad to hear Clara returned home. Trust me that’s the best kind of news I could get tonight. Have a good evening.”

  “You too,” Erin said, sounding bowled over by the strange turn her night had taken.

  Patrick disconnected the call and swallowed hard. Ruby imagined in that gulp lived one very large I told you so. “It’s good that she’s all right,” Patrick forced out. “She’s lucky.”

  “This should tell us that the files aren’t reliable. If this one wasn’t closed maybe there are more clerical errors. Crossing people off the list is just as important as adding any new information. It’s why we need to call the rest of the contacts on the open files. These girls are someone’s family.”

  “Stop,” Patrick said so emotionlessly she didn’t know how exactly to argue back. “This isn’t healthy.”

  “What happened to understanding me? It didn’t last very long, this unwavering support of my lifestyle. I should have known better.”

  “If you want to keep your world small, if this is where you want to live, I can understand that. But you can’t keep it filled with this,” he said, gesturing over at the wall of information she created. “It’ll eat you up. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  “I’m not stopping. If you don’t want to call them, I will.” She shrugged. “I know what I’m capable of and what is healthy for me. I really do appreciate that your heart is in the right place, but I am not giving up.”

  “Do not call these families,” Patrick said firmly. “The damage you could cause isn’t worth the small chance that you’ll find something. Please just let this go. Let Bobby run the case.”

  “I won’t,” Ruby said, annoyed by his persistence. “If you give this more thought I know you’ll see it my way.”

  “I’m going to leave, Ruby,” Patrick warned. “I won’t be part of something with the potential to destroy people who have likely already suffered. It’s you who isn’t seeing it clearly.”

  “Then go.” Ruby pretended the idea of him storming out wasn’t going to bother her in the least. “I can respect your opinion, but I’m not going to give up just because you believe I should.”

  “If I go, Ruby,” Patrick said, pausing to draw in a deep breath. “If I go I’m not just coming back tomorrow morning and having this argument over again.” He crossed the small kitchen and stopped with only a couple inches between them. “It’s up to you to stop me from walking out. I hope you do.” Leaning down he grasped her chin and tilted it back. There was a second of hesitation on his part, a look straight in her eyes, searching for her to protest. When she neither spoke nor pulled away, he closed the gap between their lips and set her world into motion. Patrick’s hand slipped to her back and pressed her body to his. The firm plane of his chest brushed against her as her lips parted to accept his swirling tongue.

  The intensity of the kiss was nearly enough to erode the crux of their argument. But not quite. Ruby pulled back slightly and pressed her lips closed, like a door being firmly shut and locked.

  “I don’t want to leave, Ruby,” Patrick whispered, his lips still close to hers.

  “I’m sorry, Patrick. You won’t change my mind,” Ruby apologized, genuinely hurting that they couldn’t settle this and turn the night into something unforgettable.

  Defeat pulled the edges of Patrick’s smile down like an anchor. He didn’t argue his point any longer nor did he say goodbye. Turning slowly, perhaps to give her a chance to change her mind, he made his way to the door and walked out. The door closed tightly behind him and a familiar quiet enveloped her. Ruby was alone again and the feeling of relief and despair whirled together, never combining, like oil and water.

  Chapter 11

  “Why aren’t we doing this at Ruby’s house?” Piper asked, her scrutinizing glare unsettling Patrick as they slid into a booth at the pizza shop.

  “She can’t handle it,” Patrick replied, praying he wouldn’t need to explain.

  “Who determined that?” Piper asked, looking back and forth between Bobby and Patrick as if one of them had to be to blame.

  “Me,” Patrick answered, raising his eyes and looking Piper square in the face. “We called a contact of one of the victims in the case files Bobby gave us. Turns out the missing girl is alive and well. She’d come back a couple weeks after running off with a boyfriend. I guess the case was never closed out for some reason.”

  “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t make those calls,” Bobby asserted with obvious annoyance, grabbing the pitcher of beer and filling his plastic cup.

  “It was a lapse in judgment on my part,” Patrick apologized. “Ruby was determined to keep going, to call the families of the rest of the girls in the files. I gave her an ultimatum.”

  “Because those are always a good idea,” Piper groaned sarcastically. “I don’t know when men started to believe that backing us into a corner and making us choose them was going to work.”

  “How do you know it was a man’s idea?” Bobby asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

  “Because it’s shortsighted and flawed. Let me guess, you told her if she didn’t do it your way you were out? You wouldn’t stay and help her?”

  “I agreed with Bobby that we were not in a position to open up old wounds for people who have suffered enough. Not without knowing more. So I told Ruby if that was her plan I was out.” Patrick fidgeted with the beer in his hand and readied himself for Piper’s admonishment.

  “Productive,” she sighed, shaking her head. “My only bit of advice for you, and yes I am aware you didn’t ask for any, is if you care for Ruby you will keep those two ideas mutually exclusive. Disagree with her choice but don’t use your friendship as leverage. Bobby and I find ways to disagree without destroying the foundation we have. Your loyalty shouldn’t be a bargaining chip.”

  Patrick’s mouth snapped shut as he took in her words. He could feel the edge of a logical response beginning to form. The writer in him could craft something wry or even poetic, but his heart was tightening too much to get the words out.

  “I hate when she’s right like that,” Bobby interjected. “I should be glad I’m married to such a smart woman, but it’s exhausting.”

  “If we’re done with life lessons, can we get back to the case? I actually have something.” Piper pulled a file from her bag and placed it on the table, looking around briefly to make sure no one was too interested
in what they were doing. “I plotted out the last known locations of the missing girls as well as any common hangouts for their peers in the surrounding areas. When I plugged in the time of year they went missing, one thing popped up. It always coincided with popular lobster trap routes down the coast. The end of the summer is prime time for lobster fishing. As fall approaches the ocean cools and the lobsters migrate toward deeper waters. There are some key pull-in spots for lobstermen who follow these routes and consistencies with the missing person case files you identified, Bobby. It’s worth noting.”

  “Great,” Bobby said, flipping the map around so he could see it. “We can focus on area lobstermen who might have traveled those routes. Patrick, you see if Ruby can point us in the direction where someone would have been buying film supplies or what they’d need to develop the photos themselves. Have her use these plot points on the map. Maybe those two indicators together can help us narrow a pool of possible suspects.”

  “I’m not sure Ruby is going to want anything to do with me after last night,” Patrick said, taking a long swig of his now warm beer.

  “Oh please,” Piper dismissed playfully. “I see the way that girl looks at you when she thinks no one is paying attention. You can make it right. Maybe give her a little time.”

  Bobby cut in quickly, “But not too much time because Piper and I are only here for four more days. Whatever isn’t resolved by then is going to be up to you two. We can help remotely, but you better have this sorted out by then.”

  “I’m not totally convinced pursuing this case is healthy for her,” Patrick argued, still fighting the gnawing feeling in his gut that this would be detrimental to Ruby.

  “There’s a pile of dead girls who’ve been cut up,” Piper said far too calmly as a basket of French fries was put down in front of them. “You’re supposed to be affected by something like that. We should all be losing sleep and feeling an obligation to do something.”

  “But she already struggles with her own stuff,” Patrick argued, feeling desperate for some reason to have these two in his corner. “I think she’s obsessing over this case as a way to distract herself from something. As if catching this killer is somehow going to help her.”

  “Right,” Piper smiled, reaching out and touching Patrick’s arm, “and that’s unique to her? The three of us, we’ve got it all figured out, right? You’ll have to forgive my sarcasm. I see a lot of myself in Ruby. I lived a very isolated life when I first moved to North Carolina. I saw something happen outside my window, and it sparked this quest for justice in me. I made some very poor choices and had little regard for my own life.”

  “So you condone other people doing the same?” Patrick challenged.

  “No, I’m saying I understand where the drive can come from. More importantly, I know where it can take you. Those choices led me to Bobby. Bobby led me to my family, to everything I love and value today. My life would be nothing if I hadn’t met him, and I wouldn’t have met him if I hadn’t put my energy into what I believed was right.”

  “Are you getting sentimental?” Bobby teased, as he slid his hand in hers.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” she argued with a laugh. “Bobby didn’t get it at first. He tried to quiet me, to make me see what I was doing was reckless. Eventually he saw he couldn’t stop me.”

  “But it all worked out,” Patrick said, waving a hand at the two of them like they were some finished home improvement project.

  “Because he stopped trying to pull me off the tight rope and instead started making sure he could catch me if I fell.”

  “It sounds like a lot of work,” Bobby commented, looking ready to convince him otherwise. “It is. It really is. She’s a handful.”

  “Just for that you can’t have any of my fries,” Piper said, sliding the basket away from them. “Remember how much work I am when I solve this case. My lead is the most promising so far.”

  “Are we keeping score?” Patrick asked intentionally with his accusing tone, implying it was uncouth to do something so childish in a situation like this.

  “No,” Piper corrected. “That’s silly. But for the record, if we were, you’d be losing.”

  Chapter 12

  Ruby rode the waves of adrenaline that coursed through her body until her eyes couldn’t fight sleep. This last roll of film would be it, then she’d call it a night. When she flipped the light on to see the photographs she groaned, knowing they were useless. Some girls on the beach laughing as their windswept hair partially covered their tanned faces. It was more frustration, tainted with jealously that had her flipping through the pictures forcefully. There had been a time in her life when she loved the sea and now, as close as she was to it, so much time had passed since her feet had been in it.

  She tossed the stack of photographs onto her kitchen table, but half of them slid with the momentum and landed on the floor. “Seriously,” she moaned as she bent to retrieve them, anxious to get to her bed. The smile of one girl, a close-up shot of her face, caught Ruby’s eye. The girl’s delicate hand held her chin playfully in place as she smiled bright white teeth at the camera. It was the twist in the metal of her silver ring that woke Ruby from her sleepy haze. A swirling Celtic pattern with an opal stone in the middle. She’d seen it before and couldn’t possibly forget it.

  Shocked to a fully awake state, Ruby crashed toward the wall that was holding all the photographs she’d pinned up. There on the finger of one of the severed arms was a ring, the exact same ring.

  Ruby’s hand trembled as she held the photographs side by side. There was no mistaking the jewelry was the same, but what did that mean? A tap on the door sent her feet hopping a couple inches into the air with fear.

  “Patrick,” she gasped, so relieved he was at her door. As she ushered him in, all her thoughts came tumbling out of her in a mad rush. “I found something. I know you’re mad. I didn’t call the other families. I was going to, but then when I started to dial I just couldn’t.”

  “Okay,” he said, looking around as bleary eyed and tired as she had been a few minutes ago.

  “Wait, what are you doing here?”

  “We went out and grabbed some pizza before heading back to Bobby and Piper’s cabin. I walked down to see if you were still up. I saw the light on so I figured maybe we should talk. I wanted to apologize—”

  “Who cares about that now? I went back to developing the other rolls of film in the box because I couldn’t sleep. The last one I did, there’s a girl. A young blonde girl, and she’s wearing a ring. The same ring on the cut off arm in the original photographs. She was the only one still wearing jewelry like Maggie said. Likely the first victim and the one tied to the killer. I’m looking closely here. The hand, the shape of the fingernail, it all matches. I think there might even be a small freckle. If I could blow up the new photographs I just developed and compare them, I think we could determine if it is the same person.”

  “Wait . . . we are talking about the singular girl that the forensic analyst said would most likely be known by, or connected to, the killer?” Patrick’s face looked fully awake now, the news affecting him the same way it had Ruby, absorbing the sleep and replacing it with adrenaline.

  “Yes. That’s what I said,” Ruby shot back breathlessly. “She was the only one with jewelry on. If this is the same girl, we might be able to match her to a missing-person case.”

  “Is it one of the women from the files Bobby brought over? Does it seem like it could be?” His voice was the perfect kind of frantic, what she’d hoped to hear from him all along.

  Ruby had studied the face of each of the women in the missing person files, and they did look similar, but she wouldn’t take that for granted. She moved to each photograph associated with the file and compared them.

  “No,” she answered. “I don’t think she is any of these girls. They look similar to each other, and in turn similar to her, but not a match.” She pointed to each so he could confirm.

  “You’re right. Let me
see the ring. Do we know if it’s a piece of costume jewelry? Something anyone could buy at the closest shop.”

  “I don’t know,” Ruby said, not wanting him to poke holes in her theory, as it would feel like actual daggers being plunged into her own heart. “But even so, look here. Look at the shape of the fingernails. It’s very unique the way they are squared off. And the shape of the fingers. They match, right?” Without thought she held her breath, hanging on his opinion like sweaty fingertips hanging on the rocky ledge of a cliff.

  “You’re right,” he agreed quietly. “It looks like a match. I think this arm belongs to this girl at the beach.” He pointed at both photographs and shook his head.

  “So if we figure out who she is, and the forensic analyst is right, she could point us to the killer. Let’s think about what we have here that could help us identify her.”

  “We won’t need to,” Patrick said, smiling. “This is plenty to hand over to the FBI and have them move it up the list. I’m sure they have facial recognition they can run through the database of missing people.”

  “But you heard how busy they were. Even with this, we don’t know that they’ll give it any more urgency than they did before. It’s a lead we should follow and be sure.”

  “How?” he asked, the skepticism and worry starting to frame his expression again. “She isn’t one of these women reported missing. Maybe if we call Bobby he can tell us what we should do.”

  “Look,” she said, pointing to the other photographs of the smiling girls on the beach. “You see this lighthouse. If we can figure out where it was taken, we can start to narrow it down.”

  Patrick leaned in but looked reluctant. “That’s Skyborough Beach. I wrote an article about the rehab they were doing on that lighthouse. It’s about an hour ride from the ferry once you get back to the mainland. But these photographs were taken so long ago. You can’t think anything there would help us identify her.”

  “What about news articles? If these photographs were in the same box as the ones from the murder scene, then that’s no coincidence. Maybe they were on her when she was taken. If they were the last photographs of her, maybe she was abducted from Skyborough Beach. Can you see if there is anything in the archives of the newspaper?”