They walked for a while and then the woman said, “Sloan, I know you were with Cal and Ronald last night.”
She stopped short.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help you. I’m friends with the Wannamakers.”
Sloan knew her now. This was the woman everybody said was having an affair with Cal’s father.
“We were afraid something had happened to you,” she said. “We were very relieved to learn you made it home okay.”
Sloan detected a note of insincerity in her words.
“What do you want?”
“Sloan, what happened in the boat? Cal said Ronald fell out and drowned. He said you jumped out to save Ronald and when you couldn’t you swam away from him and refused to get back into the boat. Is that what happened?”
“Sort of.”
“So Cal tried to help you two?”
“What?”
“I’m saying, Ronald drowned, but Cal was trying to help him. You remember that, right?”
“Cal knocked him into the water. Then he wouldn’t save him.”
“Sloan, I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”
“I know what I’m saying.”
“I want you to listen to me very carefully. Nobody knows about you. Nobody has to ever know about you or Ronald. We don’t want you involved in any way.”
“We who?”
“The Wannamakers. Cal. Cal wants to protect you. You want to help Cal, don’t you?”
“Not really.”
“But he’s your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
The woman sighed then. She said, “Okay, let’s cut to the chase. The police are going to interview you just because you are Cal’s girlfriend. At this time, there is no evidence you were involved. You weren’t at the school-boat landing when Cal was busted. He never said a word about you. They know about Ronald. He apparently tried to cut a deal through his parole officer to turn you two in.”
“Both of us?”
“Yes. But you weren’t there, so it’s misinformation at this point.”
“How do you know these things?”
“Honey, I work with the city. I know things.”
It was Sloan’s turn to stare out to sea.
“Ronald’s dead. The police won’t investigate that?” she asked.
“Ronald could be anywhere. He skips town all the time. He’s frequently unaccounted for. There’s no body. Everything is circumstantial. Ronald’s information is unreliable. Keep your mouth shut and everything will work out fine.”
“How’s Cal explaining away having Ronald’s boat?”
“Cal says he borrowed the boat.”
Sloan nodded. “Guess a drug rap’s a lot easier to beat than murder.”
“Sloan, nobody said anything about murder. Besides, even if this whole thing blew apart it would still only be manslaughter. He tried to help Ronald. But then, we’re trying to make sure things don’t get to that point.”
“Where’s Cal now?”
“His parents bailed him out this morning. They’re shipping him off to rehab today. Out in Arizona I believe.”
“I know the place. I guess that’ll help his case, to say he’s been through rehab.”
“Don’t worry about Cal. His parents will take care of him.”
Sloan snorted at that.
“You need to worry about you and your family. You don’t want everybody around here to know you were a part of this. Right? So, here’s the deal. You don’t know anything.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“You were home playing cards with your family all night or some such shit. Make up a story and stick to it. Can you get them on board or will they be a problem?”
“Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.”
“As long as you don’t talk, you’re safe. If you talk, well then, we can’t protect you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Cal might start naming names.”
A dagger of panic shot through Sloan’s heart. “He can’t. Nobody can. Doesn’t he understand? It’s dangerous.”
She held up a hand to stop her. “Sloan, Cal told us everything. We know about your Mexican connection.”
“Not my Mexican connection.”
“No. Let me rephrase. Cal’s contact information and names he had wouldn’t be useful. It’s all a bunch of lies, dead ends. DEA would never find them.”
“I figured as much.”
“So authorities are going to press hard to get who they can locally. Let’s just make sure they don’t get you.”
“Why do you care if they get me? What’s it to you?”
“It’s nothing to me personally, you understand. Let’s just say that it is in nobody’s best interest for you to be involved. Can we just keep it at that?”
“Won’t the cops ask where Cal got the drugs?”
“I said don’t worry about it. That’s what lawyers are for. You just keep a low profile, don’t add to the problem, and we’re going to make this all go away.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Then we have an understanding. What have you told your parents?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.”
“No. I haven’t talked to them at all.”
“I’m the only person you’ve talked to?”
She nodded yes.
“Excellent. That way you won’t have to involve anybody else.” She opened her purse and showed Sloan an envelope.
“What’s that?”
“Something to help you remember to forget.”
“Money?”
“Smart girl.”
“What if I don’t take it?”
“You’d be a fool not to. Take it and keep your mouth shut. It’s easy.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
Sloan had the feeling if she didn’t take the money that it would disappear and the Wannamakers would still think she had it.
Besides, she would never talk. She had every reason in the world to keep her mouth shut. She’d promised Verulo her silence and she would stand by her word. She’d protect her family no matter what happened to her. She’d go to jail before she’d give up any information. But she didn’t tell this woman that. She would never reveal what happened, not to anyone, not ever.
Up the beach, Sloan saw her father sitting on the steps at the end of a neighbor’s boardwalk. She turned her back to him, reached for the envelope and slid it into her sweatshirt. She zipped it up and said, “Don’t you talk to my family about this. Not one word. I’ll take care of everything.”
The woman’s lips made a knowing, disturbing smile. “I think I can trust you.”
“I can do it.”
“So we have a deal?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You need to understand, Sloan. This is bigger than just what was going on with you and Cal. There’s much more at stake here than you know about. You’re in over your head, so don’t fuck up.”
The detectives arrived in a sleek black unmarked sedan. It was dusk when Larry answered the door. He was around as the family representative, although he said very little. The cops already had some information, such as the fact that Sloan had gone to Mexico with Cal’s friends. They told her not to be afraid, that they were talking to everybody who had gone on the trip.
One officer, an attractive young fellow who they probably thought Sloan would relate to, asked questions first. When this softer approach yielded no results, an older cop got more pointed with questions.
“Did anyone approach you while you were in Mexico?”
“What do you mean?” Sloan asked.
“Anybody you were unfamiliar with? Did you notice Cal talking at length with anybody you didn’t know?”
“Cal’s outgoing. He talks to all kinds of people all the time.”
“You ever see anybody doing cocaine?”
“No.”
“It’s okay. You
can tell me. Even if you participated, you won’t get in trouble.”
“I’m not very good friends with the rest of them. I’m not really a part of their little rich clique. I just dated Cal. He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything.”
“Really? Because when we were asking around, your name came up a lot in connection with Cal Wannamaker.”
“I don’t know why. I think he had a couple of other girls he dated down at the College of Charleston.”
“Got names?”
She shook her head. “Why would I know the other girls he dated?”
“Good point. Look, the reason I ask is, clean-cut college kids go down to Cancún to have a good time, and before you know it, they’re hooked up with some sleazy characters. Spring-breakers are attractive targets since they don’t fit the profile of the typical drug runner. Living on the South Carolina coast would make your group particularly attractive.”
“Why?” Emmett asked.
The younger cop answered her father. “DEA’s shut down a lot of Florida drop points. Smugglers are looking for new inroads and South Carolina’s got a lot of unmonitored coastline, thousands of estuaries and rivers and creeks. All along the coast there are points of entry to the Intercoastal Waterway. Prime real estate for illegal activities. We’re seeing an increase in illegal drug activity every year. Even in our ports.”
The older cop focused back on Sloan. “Where were you last night?”
“Here,” she said.
“All night?”
“Yes.” She held her breath, hoping her father wouldn’t correct her.
“You didn’t leave the house?”
She decided not to omit turning up on the beach wet and exhausted. “I did for a while. I went swimming.”
“When?”
“Around midnight.”
The cops paused at the unlikely story and gave a questioning glance to her father.
“First I’ve heard of this,” Emmett said and shrugged as if it didn’t matter.
So he would have backed up her lie.
“That’s a little dangerous, don’t you think?” the cop said.
“I do it all the time,” Sloan replied.
“Okay,” he said. Doubt tinged his voice. “Why don’t you tell me what you know about the Wannamakers? You dated their son for how long?”
“About three or four months.”
“Which is it, three or four?”
“Well, um, we met in February but didn’t go out for a while after that.”
“Have you been over to their house for supper or parties?”
She nodded. “A couple of times.”
“Did you ever see anything when you were over there? Anything like strange people or them acting secretive or just anything you would consider out of character for them?”
“Why are you asking her this?” Emmett said.
“Just let her answer the question.”
“No. They’re just normal. You know, like everybody else.”
“Did you ever see anybody there from Mexico or South America?”
“Other than Al from the restaurant, no.”
“So Mr. Wannamaker is friends with Al?”
“Everybody knows they are.”
“How frequently did you see Al Aldrete?”
“I don’t know. I was only there a few times.”
She wanted to ask why they were so interested in the Wannamaker family. She flashed on what that Crawford woman said. “There’s much more at stake here than you know.” She focused on moving the cops out of her house as quickly as possible.
“What about gangbangers? Ever see Cal hang around with any of those guys? Anybody unusual for him?”
“My daughter doesn’t hang out with thugs,” her father said.
“Mr. Sullivan, gangs are one of the main distribution channels for drugs.”
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Sloan said. “No gangsters. Really. Nothing like that.”
“What about bikers? Did Cal know any bikers?”
“Like motorcycle riders?”
“Yes. Three members of a bike gang were arrested at the school-boat dock along with your boyfriend,” the young officer said.
“It’s Bike Week in Myrtle Beach,” her father surmised. “They come from all over the United States.”
“Yes, sir,” the officer continued. “They were the next leg of the transportation chain. It’s good they were caught before disbursal began because it would be like a spider web from that point.”
Now Sloan understood the rush to make things happen this weekend. So Verulo’s connection had fallen through and he had pressured Cal to make a quick drop in order to meet the bikers this week. She wondered how much money Verulo had paid Cal. It must have been a sweet deal, and Cal had been afraid she would mess it up for him. He’d wanted to keep her involved so he could control her. Now it all made sense.
Suddenly Lauren pushed Ainslie into the room in a wheelchair that hadn’t been used for weeks. Ainslie slumped over and at first Sloan was alarmed, but when her mother spoke, Sloan understood.
“Excuse me,” Lauren said sweetly as she made a show of setting the brakes on each side of the chair. “I hate to interrupt, but how long do you think y’all are going to be? Ainslie’s not feeling well and all this excitement is making it hard for her to sleep.”
Recognition washed the faces of the detectives. Sloan could see they were mentally debating how much longer they should push the suspect. She wasn’t giving them anything. She was playing the innocent so well.
The officers rose and made polite comments. They apologized to Ainslie for bothering her on their way out.
The family stood rigid in the foyer as they watched the lights of the unmarked car scrape the night.
“Smooth,” Emmett said.
“You’re welcome,” her mother said, then, “Ainslie, go to bed.”
As Ainslie climbed the stairs, Sloan thought to follow her, but then she heard Larry talking. The cops had wanted to know why they had a lawyer there, but her father had assured them he was only a family friend. As their family friend cracked the seal on a fresh bottle he’d brought with him, he said, “I heard they’ve been watching the Wannamakers.”
“Why?” Emmett asked.
“All that coke at their parties. They think they’re local royalty, above the law.”
“Guess they’re getting ready to find out different,” Emmett said.
Larry turned to Sloan then, a glass of bourbon clinking softly in hand. “Now young lady, are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell us?”
The three suspicious adults waited for her reply.
“No,” Sloan said as she thought of the envelope of money tucked away in her closet. She’d have to find a way to get it out of the house along with a few other things that could be considered evidence in this ordeal. “I swear there’s absolutely nothing to tell. I’m really, really tired. Can I go to bed now?”
CHAPTER 39
The Drug Dealers Next Door
The water was warm and inviting. The ocean was calm, Sloan’s buoyancy effortless. She moved her arms gracefully away from her body, slow angel wings in the deep, dark sea. Now, when she swam at night, she was always searching for her friends, waiting for their fins to emerge, for a gentle nudge from below. She called to them in her mind.
“Come back to me,” she would plead. “I want Ainslie to know.”
But she could never tell her sister how the dolphins had saved her. She would never be able to divulge their kindness, at least not until they arrived again under different circumstances.
She floated on her back, her hair tugged gently away by the water’s movement. She felt a swirl of action beneath her and she bolted upright in the water. Her heart rushed into her ears.
“Show yourself,” Sloan whispered. “Please. Come back to me.”
And then a smooth, gray body sliced the water to her side and she reached toward him, but her fingers didn’t touch. The animal surfaced again and she waited, hop
ing he would come closer.
She felt happy, comforted by his presence, and when she felt the rush of water beneath her she waited for his contact, braced for his muscular push. Water swirled between her fingers and she reached for him, and up from the depths came a face, bloated and torn, eaten away, frantic crabs crawling from the maw of Ronald’s mouth. He moved into her outstretched hand and she tried but couldn’t pull away. When she touched him, Ronald opened his eyes and eels spilled out. He coughed and spewed vile mud into her face and she screamed and screamed and screamed.
“Sloan, honey, wake up.” She heard her mother’s firm voice commanding her back to consciousness. “Sloan, I said wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
Sloan jerked upright in bed.
“Honey, you’re having another nightmare. Are you okay?”
Sloan was disoriented. She wasn’t sure where she was, and then, slowly, she realized it had all been a dream. She hadn’t been in the ocean since the ill-fated night Ronald drowned. At least not physically.
But every night since the incident, as she had come to think of it, she had gone swimming in her dreams. Her mind was always on Ronald and how he was still out there, bits of him floating around, food for the sea. Nobody was looking for him, nobody was asking questions, so he came to her, night after night. He never spoke. He only spilled his guts onto her and smothered her with his suffocating stench.
“What is up with you?” her mother said. “Maybe you need to go see somebody about these nightmares.”
“No, Mom,” Sloan said. “I’ll be fine.” Sloan wouldn’t be sharing her stresses with anybody, ever.
Her mother pushed Sloan’s hair back from her face. She placed a hand against her forehead to check for fever. “You’re clammy.”
“I’m hot. That’s all. It’s hot in here. Can’t we turn on the air conditioner?”
“It’ll cool off soon. Look, it’s almost nine. Why don’t you get up and help me? I’ve got to go to the grocery store. Can you come with me? We can stop and get some waffles on the way if you like.”
“Sure, okay. Just give me a minute to get ready.”
“I’ll wait downstairs. Hurry up. We have to pick up Ainslie from your father at noon.”
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