by Clover Tate
“You’ve heard, then?” I said.
“Yes.” He pushed part of a sandwich around on his plate but didn’t take a bite. “Koppen’s been talking to her for at least half an hour. I don’t know why he’s so interested in her.”
“Me, neither.” After all, I was the one who’d found the body. The sheriff hadn’t even come to take a statement yet. Besides, Avery and Miles had broken up ages ago. The back of Avery’s head nodded yes. Then shook no. I couldn’t tell what was going on in there, but Dave was clearly as concerned as I was. I decided to lighten the mood. “Hey, I finally made it down to Sullivan Kites this morning. Old man Sullivan, huh?”
It was good to see Dave laugh. “Jack’s a good friend.”
Which meant I’d likely be seeing more of him. And those amazing gray eyes. Not that he’d exactly seemed overwhelmed by me or by Strings Attached. And why should he be when he had Annabelle Black pursing her lips at him? I plucked at my woolly sweater. It was going straight to the back of the closet.
At last, Avery and Sheriff Koppen emerged from the kitchen. “Hi, Emmy,” Avery said.
“I left you a phone message. You were asleep when I left the house, so I—”
The sheriff pulled me away. “Let’s talk. Out on the porch.”
I left Dave to console Avery and followed Koppen to the wide porch overlooking the beach. He led me to a corner and perched on the solid railing. Behind him, just down the hill, the beach was filling with people mounding sand into elaborate structures. A replica of Cinderella’s castle, complete with central spire, had earned a small crowd of admirers. Just beyond it loomed a Gothic cathedral. Its creator was adding a flying buttress. Colorful kites bobbed through the sky, and I was pleased to recognize two as mine.
The sheriff slipped a notebook from his shirt pocket. “Tell me about last night.”
“Last night? But it was this morning that I found the—Miles Logan.”
“I’d like to hear about last night. Start with dinner.”
I plunged my hands into my pockets. Even with the sun, the ocean breeze was cool. “Well, my parents came to visit yesterday, and my mother left us a casserole.” Vegan, naturally. Heavy on the quinoa. “So Dave and Avery and I ate some of that. Dave—Dave Reed—was over, helping set up furniture.”
“And?”
“I guess it was eight o’clock or so when we decided to build a bonfire down on the beach. It was just getting dark.”
“Directly below the house?”
“More or less. In the big stone circle. It’s been there for years—just to the right of where the trail lets out.” It was habit in Avery’s family to collect driftwood on beach walks, then leave it at the foot of the trail to dry for bonfires, and Avery had continued the tradition. A few big rocks, perfect as seats, surrounded the old fire pit.
“So you built a fire.”
“Yes. Seemed like a good way to relax after a long day.”
Koppen nodded. “And Avery?”
Of course, this was where he was headed. “Avery had a headache and went back up to the house. Dave and I sat by the fire.”
“How long?”
“Oh, a couple of hours? I don’t know. When I got back to the house, Avery was asleep.”
“Did you see her?”
The sheriff’s lack of emotion was starting to get to me. “What are you implying?” A fist clenched in my pocket.
“I asked you a question. Did you see her?”
“No.” The word came out with more force than I’d intended. “But her bedroom door was shut. It’s not like I was going to barge in and shake her to see if she was sleeping.”
The sheriff simply stared at me.
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“I know,” he said, and let a moment pass. “You found a dead body this morning.” He gave me another moment to compose myself. “When you were on the beach last night, would you have been able to tell if a car came or went from the house?”
My jaw dropped. He couldn’t possibly think Avery had left the house.
“Could you?” he repeated.
“No. No, I suppose not.” The ocean’s continuous roar would have smothered any noise I might have heard. Of course, Bear would have noticed and barked. Or would he? But this was simply ridiculous. “Look. I see where you’re going, and let me stop you right now. Avery had a headache. She went up to the house and drank some herbal tea that my mother made to help her relax. My mom’s teas are pretty potent. Obviously, she conked out until morning.”
“I see. You have proof that she drank the tea, correct?”
My stomach dropped. The tea cup. I’d washed it that morning and put it away. All he had was my word.
Koppen seemed to register my dismay and nodded slowly. “We’ll talk more. In the meantime, take my advice and stay in Rock Point. We have a lot to sort through here, and I’m not sure where the investigation will lead.”
Still in shock, I watched him descend the steps to the street. Beyond him, the beach had filled with a fantasy city of castles, skyscrapers, and Victorian mansions. All that work, all that detail. And in a few hours the tide would destroy them all.
chapter four
I was waiting for Avery at the house when she came home that evening. Opening day for Strings Attached had been a success as far as sales were concerned, but I’d found it hard to concentrate. Luckily, customers had seemed too interested in browsing the kites to notice how distracted I was. When the last customer had left, I’d flipped the sign to “Closed” and reached for my phone to try Avery again. And again she hadn’t answered. I was dying to know what the sheriff had wanted from her.
At last, her mud-splashed Honda CR-V bumped up the driveway. Bear barked and danced in a circle. When I opened the front door, he bounded down the steps to the car.
“Whoa, buddy.” Avery smiled at the dog, although her skin was drawn. “Hi, Emmy.”
“Avery, you’re home.”
She tossed her purse on a side table and slumped into an easy chair. “You mean, I’m here and not in jail? I guess I should be happy for that.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” I glanced around the room at the plump couch, perfect for naps; the cheerful vase of pussy willows; the family photos on the fireplace mantel, including one of me and Avery at four years old—I was the curly brunette still sporting baby fat, and Avery the fairylike blond. Just this morning this room had been so soothing, so like home. Now everything felt different. “It’s just, well, with the sheriff and all, I wanted to see how you’re doing.” She didn’t respond. “Would you like some dinner?”
“I don’t know.” Avery wouldn’t look at me. She just kept staring to the side. I followed her gaze to the thermostat and realized she wasn’t really looking at that. She wasn’t really looking at anything.
I went to the kitchen, Bear at my heels, and opened the refrigerator. The bottle of champagne I’d intended to celebrate Strings Attached’s first day lay on its side, its festive foil-wrapped neck butting against Mom’s casserole dish.
“How about some quinoa?” I asked. “Or I could make you a grilled cheese sandwich.” Once she was relaxed, she’d tell me about her conversation with the sheriff.
“You want to hear about today, don’t you?”
I shut the refrigerator door and stood in the living room’s entrance. “I don’t want to stress you out. I mean, we don’t have to talk about it. I’m fine just letting it be,” I lied.
“Emmy, you left me five messages today.”
She knew me too well. “All right. If you’re sure you feel like talking about it.”
She stood. “Grab a blanket, and let’s sit on the porch. The sun is just starting to set.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. I lifted a thick wool blanket for each of us from the cedar chest. We sat side by side on the wicker s
ofa, just as we had for so many years. As kids, we’d fallen asleep on the sofa on summer nights while our parents murmured about mortgages and politics and other adult things we didn’t understand. In middle school, we talked about our crushes and tried different hairstyles on each other. In college, work and school meant I hadn’t visited Rock Point as often as I’d liked, but we were roommates in art school in Portland.
Then Avery’s parents were killed in a car crash. Joy riders speeding up the coastal highway had taken a wide turn and swiped her parents’ sedan off the rocky cliff, where it landed upside down, just above the shore. Afterward, Avery had insisted on staying at their family home, even alone. I’d visited weekends when I could. I hoped that she—an only child—thought me the sister I considered her to be.
“Comfortable?” I asked. The sky was just taking on the lavender cast it did before orange tinted the horizon.
“I’m fine,” Avery said. “So strange.”
For a moment, that was all she said. I knew it was just the start, the opening to more when she was ready. Bear hopped into the armchair next to me and sighed loudly as he curled into nap position.
At last Avery spoke. “I can’t believe Miles is dead. We used to sit right here, you know. He’d have a beer and tell me about things at the restaurant. He loved the view. Even in the winter he’d insist on bundling up and sitting here.”
I knew they’d only dated three or four months, which meant they’d been together last fall and winter. Chilly months to be outside, but somehow more wonderful, too, thanks to the protection of the porch’s broad roof from winter rains, and the fireplace inside.
“I haven’t had the chance to tell you this yet, Avery, but I’m so sorry about Miles. It has to be awful.” She didn’t respond. Whether it was because of a lump in her throat or simply having nothing to say, I didn’t know. “How did you meet?”
“I’d noticed him around town, of course. Everyone did. You should have seen him when he was working. The Tidal Basin has an open kitchen. When he was behind the stove, he was completely focused. He moved so fast, so deliberately, plating food, shaking a pan on the stove, sprinkling parsley just so before a plate left the counter. I think most the women in town were in love with him.”
“And all the female tourists,” I added. “Or at least the restaurant critics.”
“Yeah, he was a pretty decent chef, too.”
“So, how did you introduce yourself? Did you dream up an excuse that had to do with the Brew House so you could talk to him?” I asked.
“No. Actually, he found me. I used to see his pickup sometimes coming up the road, but he’d take the cutoff at Perkins Road and go into the woods. Later he told me he went there to gather mushrooms. But one day he didn’t turn off. He came straight to the house. He asked if he could go down to the beach to dig for clams.” Her gaze lost focus again.
The horizon spilled rich tangerine. This was the moment that tourists tried in vain to capture on film. A thousand sunset shots like this had graced calendars through the decades. But a photograph could only hint at the real thing’s breath-snatching beauty.
“Did he ask you out then?” I said.
“He did. Just about right away. He said, ‘I’d love to have coffee with you or a drink sometime.’ Just like that.”
“Seems kind of forward if you hadn’t talked much before.”
“It was. But you know what the really strange thing was?”
“What?”
“It wasn’t clam season.”
I smiled. Clearly Avery had no idea of her attractiveness to guys, and that was part of what made her such a catch. “Well, he’d clearly noticed you and wanted to get to know you better.”
“It seemed that way at first, I admit. He came on pretty heavy, although his schedule at the Tidal Basin put a damper on that. I was flattered. I mean, a local-celeb chef interested in me—who wouldn’t be a little light-headed about it?”
“No kidding. I bet Annabelle Black wasn’t thrilled, though.” Or Dave, I thought.
Avery nearly smiled. “You heard about her and Miles?”
“Met her this morning at Sullivan’s Kites.”
“She was truly put out. You know the expression about ‘looking daggers’ at someone?”
“That was her, I bet.”
“Miles told me they dated in high school, then again a year or so ago, but he said he had an extreme allergy to chintz and left it at that.”
Bear lifted his head, then jumped between us, where it was warmer. Night was beginning to fall, and already a few stars glittered overhead. I always forgot how vivid the stars shined on the coast, with no city lights over the ocean to compete with them.
“Sounds like he had a thing for you. What happened?” I asked.
A long time passed before she answered. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
What a frustrating answer. A nonanswer, really. She wasn’t telling me everything. “But he kept coming by.”
“Oh, sure. He had all sorts of plans for me. Thought I should sell the house and buy the Brew House’s building. Move upstairs. I told him no way.”
Of course not. This was her home. “That must have been heartbreaking. You cared about him, and he kind of cooled off.”
Again, Avery didn’t speak. This wasn’t like her. I’d never known her not to be eager to get to the bottom of an emotional situation with me. She ran the edges of the wool blanket against her fingers.
“So maybe you didn’t get along?” I said, hoping for more.
“I wouldn’t say that. He was a sweet guy.” She hugged her knees and pulled up her blanket. “I can’t believe I’m saying ‘was’ a sweet guy.” Exhaustion etched lines near her eyes. “Eventually, we stopped seeing each other. We never had any big talk or formal breakup—our relationship just petered out. But I was always happy to wave at him in town or when he drove by. No hard feelings.” She stroked Bear’s head. “I wish you could have met Miles.”
So did I. Waves crashed below, now likely enveloping the cluster of rocks where I’d found him. I couldn’t help but remember Sheriff Koppen turning his body over and the red gash against the chef’s sea-bleached skin.
“Does the sheriff really think you had some fit of rage and stabbed him and tossed him in the ocean? I mean, you guys broke up six months ago. I know that dating is cutthroat—” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
Even in the bare light the moon gave, I saw Avery’s tightened expression.
“Sheriff Koppen says so. Says he has proof.” She flopped her head against the back of the sofa. “Says Miles and I had an appointment to meet last night.”
What? My hand hit the sofa’s arm with a clunk. “But he can’t have proof,” I said. “You were here with us. It was my first day in the house.”
“Let’s go in,” Avery said. She tossed the blanket on the sofa and went in the living room, Bear close behind. Proof? I stood on the porch in disbelief. And why wasn’t Avery coming clean with me about Miles? A lamp clicked on inside, casting its yellow glow to the porch.
I picked up the blankets and followed her. “Did he tell you what this proof was?”
“Miles’s calendar. He’d penciled in a meeting with me at the dock.”
Avery’s family shared a dock with a few other families. Her dad used to love to fish, but Avery didn’t use the boat much. I was surprised she hadn’t sold it, frankly, but she said Dave liked to take it out from time to time.
“So they must have found his phone,” I said, assuming that’s where Miles kept his calendar.
“Oh no,” Avery said. “He had a paper calendar, a little spiral-bound one, at his cabin. The sheriff must have found it.”
“You . . .” I hesitated. “You didn’t have a meeting with him, did you? Maybe something you forgot?”
Her whole body sagged with exhaustion. “No. I didn’t see him.�
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“Then you were set up.” I’d spoken a little louder than I’d intended, and Bear raised his head. “Sorry. It just makes me mad.”
“I can’t think about it anymore. I’m so tired. All I want to do is go to bed and hope it all goes away.”
“But you’re being framed. You can’t give up,” I said.
“Can you prove I didn’t go anywhere last night? You and Dave were down on the beach. The surf pounds down there. You couldn’t have heard me if I drove away.”
“But you didn’t. You had a headache, drank some of Mom’s tea, and fell asleep.” When she remained silent, I added, “There’s some kind of misunderstanding.”
“Maybe.”
I’d never seen Avery so defeated, so devoid of hope, except after her parents’ accident. I wondered if her grief had lingered. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Avery didn’t reply. She laid her head on the arm of the couch and closed her eyes.
“Oh, Avery. Someone must have pretended to be you and set up the date at the dock. Either that, or the sheriff is leading you on to try to get you to admit to something you didn’t do. Can’t you see? We have to figure out who’s behind this.”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t seen Miles one-on-one for weeks.” She rubbed her eyes. “I can’t think anymore. Will you make me some of that relaxing tea?”
“No. No more of Mom’s tea.” I winced at the memory of cleaning out Avery’s cup that morning. I could have shown the sheriff. My cell phone trilled to Abba’s “Mamma Mia.” Yes, somehow I’d conjured my mother just by mentioning her name. “I’d better get this.”
Avery didn’t move.
“How was your first day, honey?” Mom asked. “Did people like your kites? I wish we could have stayed longer.”
I looked at Avery slumped on the couch and thought through the day, from finding Miles’s body to the sheriff’s evidence against her. “Everything’s fine, Mom,” I said. “Just fine.”