A Stranger on the Beach

by Michele Campbell

  “Okay, and?”

  “Brittany says Caroline asked for me special, by name.”

  “Asked for you—?”

  “Brittany says Caroline knew my first and last name, and where I worked, and that she insisted that I be the bartender assigned to her party. Brittany says she’s willing to testify, to show that Caroline came after me. That I didn’t stalk her. But I don’t get how it’s possible. I only met Caroline once before that party, in passing on the beach. We barely spoke. I don’t see how she could’ve known my full name, or where I worked, and I don’t understand why she would ask for me.”

  “You believe this woman’s story?”

  “Brittany has no reason to lie. She’s not that good of a friend of mine. She says she’s one hundred percent sure that it happened the way that she says it did. I believe her. And yet it makes no sense.”

  Lisa tapped her fingernails thoughtfully on the table. “Before Caroline requested you to work at the party, you say the two of you met once, on the beach?”

  “Yeah. But just for a minute. I remember it was starting to rain. She was out for a run. She looked really beautiful. I remember she was wearing—”

  “I don’t need to know what she was wearing, Aidan. Tell me the things I do need to know. Where exactly did this happen? Did you speak? What did you say?”

  “It happened in front of her house. I was standing there looking up at it.”

  “Looking at her house? Why?”

  “I always look at it. That land used to belong to my family.”

  “You always look at Caroline’s house? That isn’t good. Elaborate, please.”

  “I go by there—I used to—to see how the house is coming along. To admire it.”

  “How often did you do this?”

  “Few times a week, maybe.”

  “Was that the first time she saw you?”

  “As far as I know. It was definitely the first time I saw her.”

  “But she could’ve seen you on other occasions?”

  “Sure.”

  “Maybe she wondered who you were and why you were staring at her house.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Maybe she thought you wanted to rob it.”

  “I don’t know why she would think that. I never did anything. Well, maybe, occasionally if nobody was around, I’d—”

  He paused.

  “You what?”

  “I’d go in. I’m talking about when it was under construction, and it wasn’t locked. I don’t think she could know that. And one time after the party, when I set off the alarm by mistake. I’m sorry. Is that a problem for the case?”

  “Of course it is. But maybe the truth is more complicated. How well-known is your prior conviction?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Around town, do people know you were arrested for killing your best friend in a love triangle when you were younger?”

  “Yes. Everybody knows.”

  “And how are you thought of? Violent? Unstable?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. People are shitty. They don’t give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  “So, if Caroline noticed you watching her house, and decided to ask around about you, she’d hear that you were an unstable young man, with a history of violence, with this, this situation in your past?”

  Aidan sighed. “Yes. It’s the first thing people mention if you ask about me.”

  “If you want my honest reaction, I think your friend Brittany is right. I think Caroline was playing a very long game.”

  “How so?”

  “She knew who you were. She knew enough about you to think you’d make a good patsy. She asked Brittany to hire you to work her party in order to meet you. She wanted to meet you, so she could seduce you, kill her husband, and frame you for his murder. Do you see it now?”

  No. Never.

  Believing Lisa’s theory would mean accepting that his love affair with Caroline had been a fraud from start to finish. A setup. And he knew that wasn’t true. He’d lived it. He’d loved her. It was real.

  “That’s not possible,” he said.

  “You need to stop being so naïve, Aidan. People are liars. Caroline is a liar. You have to accept that.”

  “I thought this was the good news,” Aidan said.

  “Huh?”

  “When you came in, you said you had some good news and some bad news. I asked for the good news first.”

  “This is good news. Not good. It’s great. We have the Ambien in your blood. Caroline’s prints on the murder weapon. And now your friend Brittany to explain how Caroline set you up. You’re innocent, Aidan, and the prosecution is going to see that. I bet they dismiss the charges.”

  “Okay, what’s the bad news then?”

  “Nothing. Forget about that. Your only concern should be putting Caroline Stark behind bars where she belongs. That woman is evil.”

  56

  The good news felt terrible. And the bad news was about to come bubbling to the surface like noxious gas rising from the bottom of a murky lake.

  Aidan had been lying on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, reviewing in his head every moment he’d spent with Caroline. He was looking for treachery—and finding all too much of it. He’d assumed that he was the one who’d pursued her. He had it in his mind that she was above him, that he’d struggled to win her attention, that his charms had prevailed against all odds, that she gave in to her feelings for the guy from the wrong side of the tracks because she couldn’t help herself.

  He saw now that the truth was the opposite. From the first moment they met on the beach, it was Caroline who pursued him. She arranged for them to meet at her party. She came into the Red Anchor—twice—looking for him. She must’ve played drunk—had she drunk all the vodka tonics he poured for her?—in order to get him to drive her home. Once she had him in her house, she used a “tour” as a pretext to get him to her bedroom. To her bed. After that, he was lost. He would have agreed to anything she asked, no matter how extreme. Although he didn’t, thank God. He had some moral boundaries. Almost immediately, Caroline—what was that legal word Lisa had used?—solicited him to kill her husband. And Aidan said no. So she was forced to kill Jason herself, but she made sure to set him up to take the fall. She acted afraid, so he promised to protect her. He followed Stark around. He put himself out there for anyone to see. Then she invited him to her home on the night of the murder, drugged him, shot her husband, and planted evidence of the crime in Aidan’s truck. Aidan had delivered himself up like a sheep to slaughter. He was that gullible.

  Now Aidan lay on his bunk, listening to his cellmate grunt as he did push-ups, trying to make sense of the disaster that was his life. He’d walked into a trap, and the door had swung shut behind him with a resounding clank. The cell smelled of sweat and urine from the toilet in the corner. The cellmate didn’t speak to him and was in for armed robbery. Aidan didn’t share Lisa Walters’s optimism that the prosecution would agree to his innocence. He’d rot here forever, worrying that his cellmate would strangle him in his sleep. Wishing for that, even, to be put out of his misery. Things had never gone his way. Why would they start now?

  The guard came up to the cell door and unlocked it, which could only mean one thing. It was visiting hours.

  “Callahan. Visitor,” the guard said.

  “I saw my lawyer already.”

  “It’s not your lawyer. It’s a family member. Let’s go.”

  Family. Tommy? Aidan scrambled down from the top bunk and presented his hands for the manacles. In light of everything that he’d learned this morning, he saw yet again how stupid he’d been to reject his brother’s advice. The only person in his life who’d ever really looked out for him was Tommy. He walked down the long echoing corridor, his chains clanking, ready to throw himself on his brother’s mercy. Ready to fight for his own future, if only for Tommy’s sake.

  But it was Kelly.

  He sat down across from her. She took his hands. The
y both had tears in their eyes. Kelly, from seeing him in his prison blues, his eyes hollow and haunted. Aidan, from seeing how her familiar, pretty face had aged in the space of a single week. He could only imagine what Tommy looked like, and he couldn’t stand it.

  “Swear to God, Kel. I didn’t do it. You’ve got to tell him,” Aidan said, choking up.

  “I don’t want to talk about that. It’s not why I’m here. I’m here for Tom.”

  “Yes. Can you tell him I love him? And that I’m innocent? This lawyer is going to prove it, and I can’t thank you guys enough for paying for her.”

  “I’m here to tell you we can’t pay for that anymore. I’m sorry, but we have legal troubles of our own now. Didn’t the lawyer tell you?”

  “Tell me what? What is it?”

  The bad news. It must be truly bad, if Lisa couldn’t bring herself to tell him.

  “Tom got suspended. He’s under investigation. The old lady next door heard the burglar alarm going that night. She looked out and saw you and Tom. She saw him let you go, Aidan, and she reported him to the state police. He’s going to lose his job.”

  “My God. No. I’ll tell them—”

  “Tell them what? You can’t say it’s not true, because it is true. You know how I know? Tom can’t sleep at night. That’s why he hasn’t been to see you. He can’t look you in the eye. He believes it’s his fault for letting you go. If only he’d had the guts to lock you up for burglary, you wouldn’t be in for murder now. Tom thinks he ruined your life. Hah, can you believe that? My saint of a husband, always seeing the best in his screwup of a brother.”

  Aidan felt like he might vomit. Of all the things that had happened, Tommy taking this fall for him, blaming himself for Aidan’s stupidity, was the worst of all. It was more than he could bear. He had to change this, to make this not happen to Tommy, because of him.

  “You must hate me,” he said, and instantly knew it was a stupid thing to say.

  So self-pitying. He wasn’t a whiner. He needed to fix this.

  “I wish I hated you,” Kelly said. “It would be easier. I love you, and so does Tommy. This is wrecking him. I fear for his health.”

  “I’ll fix it. I promise.”

  “You can’t fix this, because you are the problem. There’s something wrong with you, Aidan. Bad luck, bad judgment. Call it what you like. Disaster follows you. You destroyed your own life, and now you’re ruining ours, too. I don’t see that changing at this point. Do you?”

  57

  Two officers showed up at the jail to transport Aidan to the sit-down at the prosecutor’s office. One of them was a young woman he remembered seeing with Caroline in the police station on the night he was arrested. The other was Mike Castro. Figures. Mike had been waiting for this for years. Two things he’d always wanted in one package. To see Aidan take a fall. And to steal Tommy’s job. He must be licking his chops.

  Aidan rode in the back of the patrol car, handcuffed, behind the mesh screen, looking out the side window. He’d been inside for a week, more or less, and had already forgotten the outside. The sight of it hurt his heart, because it was everything he was set to lose. The clear blue sky, the chill in the air. The leaves on the trees bright with autumn colors. Kids getting on a school bus, laughing. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in jail. But if it was necessary to save his brother, Aidan would learn to live with it.

  They entered the office building through a loading dock in the back. Aidan was then whisked upstairs in the freight elevator to spare the general public exposure to him. The world had always treated him like he was different. Now it saw him as dangerous, which made him feel alone. But then he saw Lisa Walters waiting for him in a small conference room and his spirits lifted for a moment. Until he remembered that he was about to disappoint her.

  “Thanks, guys. You can uncuff him. And we’ll need privacy,” Lisa said, as Mike and the female officer escorted Aidan into the room.

  “You sure about taking off the cuffs?” Mike asked.

  “A hundred percent. You can stand outside that door if you like.”

  “Oh, believe me, I will.”

  “No eavesdropping though.”

  She winked. Aidan wanted to high-five her for taking his side, but antagonizing Mike right now, as good as it would feel, would be a mistake.

  Aidan waited for the door to close. He kept his voice low, so the cops standing outside wouldn’t overhear.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Tommy was under investigation?” Aidan asked.

  “Because there’s nothing you can do about it. You need to focus on your own problems.”

  “He is my problem. He’s my brother, and he’s in trouble because of me. Besides, there is something I can do about it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I can plead guilty. Tell the prosecutor everything was my fault. Which it was. They got him on a charge of—what do you call it—obstruction? For not reporting me? But see, that was right in the middle of the hurricane. There was a state of emergency. Tom had to respond to calls. He couldn’t take me to the station right then. He told me to turn myself in, and I promised I would. But I didn’t. I went back to Caroline’s house instead.”

  “That won’t work.”

  “Why not? I’ll take the fall if they dismiss the charges against Tommy. That’s my deal.”

  “That might help your brother, but it won’t work for you. You’ll end up spending the rest of your life in jail. You saw the prosecutor in court. He’s a real up-and-comer. Football hero back in the day, now a lawman. There’s already a Vernon Mays for Congress committee. If you plead guilty, even if you agree to testify against Caroline, Mays will still ask for a significant jail sentence for you. He can’t risk looking soft on a murderer. That’s why you need to convince him you’re innocent.”

  “Where does that leave my brother?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe if Mays believes you’re innocent, he’ll believe what you said about Tommy, too.” She raised an eyebrow. “Even if it’s not true.”

  “Say I do what you’re telling me and claim I’m innocent. Is Mays gonna believe that?”

  “In all honesty, I don’t know.”

  “Did you show him the report that proves there was Ambien in my blood?”

  “I did. He asked me, where’s the proof you didn’t take the Ambien yourself? And he’s right. We can’t prove that. It’s only your word that she spiked your drink. As for her staging the crime scene, Caroline’s phony hand injury and all, Mays thinks that if it was staged, you were involved. Mays is planning to ask you about it.”

  “What about Brittany’s testimony? Doesn’t she prove that Caroline set me up?”

  “I told Mays about her, but he didn’t bite. He thinks it’s irrelevant when you met Caroline, whether she came after you instead of you going after her. In his mind, the only thing that matters is both of your prints on the murder weapon. That makes you coconspirators, and that’s what he wants you to admit.”

  “You’re saying he’s already made up his mind that I’m guilty,” Aidan said. “So, your plan won’t work anyway.”

  “Maybe it won’t. But the point of this meeting is to try to change his mind. Tell your story, Aidan. I believed you, and I’m as cynical as they come. Hopefully, Mays will believe you, too.”

  * * *

  Aidan sat at the conference table with Lisa beside him, and the cops and the prosecutor across from him. Vernon Mays was dead center, stone-faced as he prepared to question Aidan about the murder. Lieutenant Messina was on Mays’s right. She seemed kind and open-minded, but so young that she reminded him of the girl who babysat his niece and nephew. He doubted she would have much sway in deciding his fate. Mike Castro sat to Mays’s left. Mike’s expression didn’t give anything away, but Aidan knew that Mike wanted Aidan to fry. He always had.

  Mays handed Aidan an agreement guaranteeing that what he said today wouldn’t be used against him in court, except to cross-examine him if he testified. Lisa e
xplained it like this: If Aidan said he was guilty today, he couldn’t change his story at trial. Whatever he said today would lock him in, one way or the other. It felt so final.

  Aidan knew what he had to do. His hands shook as he signed the paper.

  “Mr. Callahan,” Vernon Mays said. “We’re here today because the prosecution is interested in securing your cooperation against Caroline Stark. In order to do that, I need to hear your version of events. What you would testify to if called as a witness. This is a form of truth-testing. You need to answer my questions honestly. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very good. Now, let’s start with your relationship with Caroline Stark. From what I understand, that relationship was romantic in nature, is that correct?”

  Aidan felt sweaty and tongue-tied, like he used to feel in high school when he got called on. Like everybody was going to laugh. But he had to go through with this.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, in a low voice.

  “Speak up, please.”

  “I said yes.”

  “At some point, did Mrs. Stark tell you that she wanted to kill her husband, and that she needed your help?”

  “She did.”

  “Did you agree to help her?”

  All eyes were on him. His heart beat loudly.

  “No, I did not agree. I refused.”

  Mays frowned. “Mr. Callahan,” Mays said, “as the prosecutor, I have a duty to uphold the law and abide by ethical standards. When I put forth a witness at trial, I need to know that he is being truthful. Your lawyer has come to us with a story of you being drugged by Mrs. Stark prior to the murder. She claims that you’re innocent, that Mrs. Stark murdered her husband and framed you. I find this story far-fetched to say the least. Our view of the case is that the two of you were lovers, and you conspired to murder Jason Stark, in order to take whatever money was left in the couple’s bank accounts and collect on a five-million-dollar insurance policy taken out by Mrs. Stark on her husband’s life. I need to hear the truth from you today if we’re going to reach a satisfactory plea agreement.”