Live and Let Fly

by Clover Tate

  “Stella’s conscious,” I told her. “Want to come to the hospital with me?”

  “You won’t have time to visit her until after the kite festival,” Sunny said.

  The kite festival. With all the excitement about Marcus and Stella, I’d nearly forgotten. I jumped out of bed and grabbed my robe. “What time is it?”

  “Take it easy. It’s still early.” She dropped to the bed and ran a hand over Bear. “Why were you out so late last night? I thought you were ‘on hold’ with Jack. Whatever that means.”

  “I found Marcus Salek.” While I dressed, I told her about leaving the note at the cemetery, hearing Marcus’s story, then convincing him to talk with Sheriff Koppen. “The deck is cleared of all the suspects except for Caitlin. And now that Stella is conscious, the case should be wrapped up soon.”

  “She might not remember anything, you know.” Sunny stood and pulled a pair of kite earrings from my jewelry box. “Wear these. You’re amazing, you know? I can’t believe you got Marcus to confess to the sheriff.”

  “I won’t lie, I’m feeling pretty smug right now.”

  “Well, Your Royal Smugness, I’m going into Rock Point after breakfast. Rose said I could play with the accounting software once I get the data entry finished.”

  “Today?”

  Sunny fastened me with her “duh” look. “Mom and Dad are coming, remember?” She followed me down the stairs, Bear trotting behind us. “I wish I could see you fly your kite, though.”

  I turned to her. “That’s so sweet. I wish you could, too. When the festival’s over, let’s you and I go down to the beach together and fly it.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled. “That would be great.”

  I poured myself a cup of coffee from the thermos Avery thoughtfully left us when she went into the Brew House that morning. With all the visitors for the kite festival, it would be a busy day for her.

  “Maybe today would be a good time for you to talk to Mom and Dad,” I said.

  “Like I told you. I’m not ready. Yet. I almost have a plan. Don’t you see?”

  What I could see was a snowballing disaster if Sunny didn’t come clean soon. “You know Mom loves her surprise visits. It would be a lot better for you to tell her before she finds out by accident.”

  “I know, I know. But not yet.”

  She would tell them eventually. I knew she would. I’d never seen anything engross her the way finance had. In some ways, dropping out of college had been one of the most mature things Sunny had ever done. I sipped Avery’s satisfyingly strong coffee and gazed through the kitchen window.

  Stella was awake, and the sheriff was onto Caitlin. The kite competition was a few hours off, and my Father Wind kite was a doozy. At last, things were coming together. Not that everything was perfect. Sunny, for instance. And I still hadn’t see the latest issue of the National Bloodhound. But, all in all, it was shaping up to be a good day.

  On the way to Strings Attached, I stopped at a minimart, braced myself, and bought a copy of the Bloodhound. I couldn’t bear to look at it right away, so I set it in the Prius’s passenger seat.

  Once I was at the shop, I tucked the paper under my arm and stood on Strings Attached’s porch, looking down to the beach. Already, kite enthusiasts were flying a regular Thanksgiving Day parade of kites. A giant octopus hovered near the Tidal Basin, and a dragon with a long, winding tail flew a bit farther up the beach. All at once, a set of six red sport kites leapt one after another into the air for a synchronized routine. My heart caught in my throat. I knew the kites’ handlers would be working like athletes, a spindle in each hand, twisting, jerking, letting out line so that the kites danced and dove in patterns as eloquent as those performed by the Blue Angels.

  Just above the new docks, a wide portion of the beach would be cordoned off with orange traffic cones. That’s where I’d be soon, showing Father Wind to the world.

  Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from the spectacle and unlocked the store. My plan had been to open the shop early for the hordes of festivalgoers who might want to give kite flying a try themselves. Sunny couldn’t work, since she was afraid of running into our parents, but Stella had said she’d gladly step in. Now that wasn’t a possibility. Using a large sheet of sketch paper, I posted a sign in the front window saying the shop wouldn’t open until after the contest at noon.

  Now for the moment I’d dreaded. I flattened the National Bloodhound on the workshop counter and took a deep breath. The cover displayed a selection of starlets in bikinis, with circles drawn around their hind ends to point out their cellulite. Irritating. How come they never featured men’s balding heads or potbellies?

  I flipped through the tabloid page by page, but I couldn’t find “A Byrd Told Me.” Starting again at the beginning, I ran my finger over each page, but didn’t see Nicky’s byline at all. I closed the tabloid. Strange. Was he saving the story for a big reveal next week? If so, he was damned lucky. The news about Caitlin would likely come out later today. Hopefully, he’d focus on that, and my lurid recounting of that night would fade into the background—or maybe even be dropped completely. Plus, with Caitlin in jail, there was no way he could insinuate I had anything to do with her death.

  The day was getting better and better.

  I unhooked Father Wind from his station and was fastening the kite’s bridle when I heard a knock at the door. I turned to see Mom and Dad’s faces pressing against the glass. Mom waved her hand above Dad’s head. With a huge smile, I opened the door.

  “Hi, honey!” Mom’s tsunami-like presence washed through the store. She hugged me, then pushed me away to examine me. “Let me see your tongue.” Obediently, I stuck it out, and she turned my head toward the window. “Your chi looks vigorous. Good.”

  “Emmy.” Dad hugged me, too. He was more subdued, but I knew his affection ran deep. His jacket smelled just a touch of mulch.

  “How are things in the composting club?” I asked him.

  “Great. The Eisenbergs are having a devil of a time keeping their number one pile moist in this heat, but we’re rigging up a drip irrigation system.”

  While Mom spent her days sprouting grains and making tinctures with her croning circle, Dad had the entire neighborhood composting. Every two weeks, he and a few friends met for their Watergate reenactment group, which Mom didn’t partake in due to the foul language and absence of female roles.

  “Did you have a good drive over?” I asked.

  “It took forever to get the bus over the hill—” Mom started.

  “The VW engine is durable, but not made for speed,” Dad told her.

  “Honestly, honey. We were passed by an RV towing a boat. Can’t we think about a little car? Maybe an electric vehicle?”

  I’d heard this discussion before. They’d even bought a Prius at one time, but ended up passing it along to me when Dad just couldn’t stay away from the bus. “Will you be in town for dinner?” I asked this question thinking of Sunny. It would be the perfect chance for her to talk to them—or she’d need to know so she could avoid them.

  “Surprise!” Mom said. “We’ll be here for dinner and breakfast. We’re staying at the Morning Glory. I told your father we could camp in the bus, but he’s so thoughtful.” She slipped an arm around his waist and squeezed. “He said we should have a treat.”

  “Great,” I said, but I was thinking I’d better call Sunny ASAP. Rose’s office was three houses down from the Morning Glory Inn. She’d need to be stealthy about her comings and goings.

  Mom released Dad and circled the shop, touching kites here and there and running her hand along the old fireplace’s mantel. She poked her head into the workshop and stopped at my competition kite. “This is it, isn’t it? The kite you’re entering today.”

  I warmed with pride. I could tell from Mom’s breathless tone that she loved it as much as I did. “Yep. At first I was goi
ng to do an appliqué rendering of Rock Point, but when Su—when I saw how much trouble it was, I changed direction.” I tried to play it cool. They didn’t seem to notice my slip of the tongue.

  “It’s lovely, Em,” Dad said with the awe he normally saved for neighbors who achieved a high worm-to- compost ratio.

  My pride doubled. Take that, Jack. This contest was in the bag.

  “I’m glad you’re doing so well, hon. We don’t need to worry about you. You’ll do fine.”

  Implied was that she worried about Sunny. I pasted on a smile. “Have you heard from Sunny?”

  In two strides, Mom was at my side. “I have a feeling something funny’s going on with her. Every time I call, she acts evasive.”

  “I’m sure she’s okay. She’s just doing that college thing. You know.” How was that for nonsense? “Why don’t you get a good spot on the beach? I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  I watched them walk down the steps. On the beach beyond, the crowd thickened, some setting out chairs and blankets, others snapping group photos. From where I stood, the judge’s dais was hidden behind a building, but I knew entrants would be starting to gather, kites in hand.

  I’d be there soon, too. But first I had to get in touch with Sunny.

  chapter thirty

  Sunny didn’t answer my text. I glanced at the time. Fifteen minutes until the contest. I called.

  “What?” Sunny answered.

  “Mom and Dad are in town.”

  “I know.”

  She wasn’t listening. “I know you know. I just wanted to tell you that they’re staying up the street at the Morning Glory Inn. Maybe you’d better simply face them. It’ll be better all around.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Sure? “Sunny, what’s wrong?” Despite myself, my breath quickened.

  “Rose asked me to tabulate some expenses, and when I was in the software, well, I saw this other file, and—”

  My shoulders relaxed. She was simply distracted by some financial thing.

  “I think it’s a lie.”

  “What?” I took the phone to the window. In the distance I heard the loudspeaker from the judge’s dais.

  “It doesn’t add up. If Jasmine were a gambler, this would . . .”

  “Would what?” I had ten minutes, tops, before I had to leave the shop, and I still wanted to smooth my hair and get my wits together.

  “Stella was coming back from Spirit Mountain casino when she had the accident, right?”

  What did this have to do with anything? “Uh-huh.”

  “We need to find the sheriff right away. It’s not Caitlin at all who murdered Jasmine. I think that’s what Stella was trying to say.”

  “What? Tell me.” Chills prickled at my neck. Her words were too similar to Stella’s when she’d called from Spirit Mountain.

  “Hi, Kyle.” Sunny’s voice sounded uncertain. In a quieter voice, she said, “I have to go now.” The line went dead.

  “Sunny!” No response. She’d hung up. I called again, but she didn’t answer. Something was very wrong. I glanced out the window at the thickening crowd, then grabbed my purse and ran for the Prius.

  Cursing the split-second delay from the stop sign at Main Street, I sped up the hill to Old Town and halted the car in front of Rose’s house. I caught my breath. My bicycle, which Sunny had borrowed that morning, still leaned against the garage wall.

  But I couldn’t see movement in the office. I ran up the driveway and yanked at the door. It was locked. All the lights were off. If not for the bicycle, Sunny might never have been here at all.

  I whirled around and ran for the house. Maybe Rose was home. Her practical Kia was still in front of the house. I pounded on the door and rang the doorbell, but no one answered.

  Then I saw it. There on the sidewalk at the foot of the driveway was Sunny’s macramé keychain. Sunny had been here and had left, fast. Or—I could barely breathe at the thought—had been taken away.

  What had she told me? She said the numbers didn’t add up, that someone had lied. She said Kyle’s name. That night on the beach, a man’s silhouette filled the kitchen window at Jasmine’s. A tall man. Like Kyle. Kyle had my sister. I clenched my fists, driving my fingernails into my palms, and released them.

  Think, think. Where would Kyle take Sunny?

  The cliff walk, that’s where. Sunny made no secret of her daily walks along the cliffs. It would be the perfect cover-up for a death. A simple slip, and the Devil’s Playpen would swallow her up for good. There was no time to call the sheriff. I had to find Sunny. Now.

  • • •

  The highway would be clogged with cars from the city, full of tourists coming to Rock Point for the kite festival, so I took the back roads. Every time I had to put on the brakes for traffic, I comforted myself with the thought that Kyle would have had to slow, too. If I was right about Sunny, that is, and that he took her to the cliffs instead of somewhere else. Oh, how I hoped I was right.

  I pulled into the trailhead’s narrow parking area and saw Kyle’s SUV with its rental car sticker right away. Relief. Both Kyle and Rose were standing just outside the vehicle. The rest of the parking area was empty.

  Kyle and Rose. Both of them. I took a second to process this.

  Could Rose be in on it, too? Maybe I’d been mistaken. Maybe they simply wanted to take a walk, and when I’d arrived at Rose’s office, Sunny had ducked out to get a sandwich.

  Then Rose nodded toward me and mouthed something to Kyle. Their body language was complicit. That’s when I knew. Rose had covered for Kyle when I asked about him, telling me he was in Portland the night of Jasmine’s death. I felt dizzy. How could I have been so wrong? Worse, there were two of them and one of me, and I didn’t have a weapon. But they had my sister.

  I idled the Prius behind their SUV and flew out of the door. “Kyle! Rose!” I yelled.

  “Emmy,” Rose said. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the kite festival?” From her tone of voice, no one would have suspected that they’d killed one person, attempted to kill a second person, and kidnapped a third.

  I ignored her question. “Have you seen Sunny?” Surprisingly, my voice didn’t shake.

  “No. Why do you ask?” Rose said.

  I had to think fast. Sunny was in the back of that SUV. I knew it. The tinted windows were too dark to see through, but I’d bet anything she was bound and only feet away in the car’s rear. “Sunny said she needed her, um, inhaler.” I’d been the one with childhood asthma, not Sunny, but they didn’t know that. “When she needs it, she can’t wait.”

  “She never said anything about asthma.”

  “She wouldn’t. She’s shy about it.” Then I had another thought. “I went to your office and saw her bicycle, but she wasn’t there.”

  “So you came here?” Kyle asked.

  “You know how she likes to walk along the cliffs. I thought maybe she’d caught a ride or something.” That was lame. First I say she’s having an asthma attack, then I say she’s decided to go for a hike. “But her bike was there. Plus, she left me a note at Strings Attached.”

  “A note?” Kyle said.

  “Sure. Said she’d be at Rose’s and to please bring her inhaler. The note’s still taped to the door. But why are you guys here? I’d have thought you’d be at the kite festival, too.” Would they bite?

  Rose took a step forward. I braced myself, but she said, “We’re taking some of Jasmine’s ashes to the cliffs for a ceremony.” She touched a metal canister the size of a loaf of bread. She glanced at Kyle. “We thought it would be best to sprinkle some of her ashes when there wouldn’t be a lot of people. The cliffs meant a lot to Jasmine. We’ll have a real ceremony later.”

  Rose’s voice was soft and mournful, but a muscle in her jaw twitched.

  “You might have Sunny to contend with—if she cam
e out here for a walk,” I added quickly.

  “I’m worried about her bike,” Kyle said at last. “Clearly, from the note”—he traded glances with Rose—“she needs her inhaler.”

  I nearly fainted with relief. He’d swallowed my story. At least Kyle would be out of the way. “She can be so scatterbrained sometimes. If her asthma is troubling her, she shouldn’t be walking back into town. I’d go get it for her—and take down that confusing note—but I need to bring her an inhaler.”

  “Her note.” Rose echoed.

  “I bet—” I turned to Kyle. “I bet you anything it’s still there.”

  Kyle’s eyes flicked to Rose. “Time slipped away from us, Rose. I had no idea how late it was getting. Why don’t I pick up Sunny’s bike and come back with it?”

  He took the bait. But he wasn’t going to take Sunny with him. I held out my keys. “Take my car. It’s blocking you in, and there’s a bike rack, see?” I silently thanked Dave for setting up my car with the rack.

  Rose met his eyes, and I thought she communicated a hint of a nod. She turned toward the trailhead. “Come on, Emmy. Let’s look for your sister. Kyle, I’ll see you soon.”

  Kyle slid his bulk into my tiny Prius and started the engine. In a moment, he was on the main road. Rose stood, holding her sister’s ashes. “Come on, Emmy.”

  There was no way I was following her into those woods.

  chapter thirty-one

  I held my ground. The trail started in the woods, then thinned to the clearing where Jack and I had sat a quarter of a mile or so in. The old lighthouse was farther up the hill. I doubted Rose would try anything until we reached the clearing. Even then, she might wait for Kyle. It would be easy enough for them to explain that they’d come up to cliffs to sprinkle some of the ashes, but it was too late. Sunny and I had had a tragic accident.

  “You know,” I said, heading to the SUV I suspected held my sister, “maybe I’ll just wait here for Kyle to get back.”