by Lynn Cahoon
“Ain’t no proof I killed her.” The man’s eyes burned as he stared at them. “And you ain’t going to find no body either. What’s left of her the sharks took care of long ago.”
I felt a chill at the back of my neck. He was telling us everything we needed to know, but nothing we could hold him for. Would he get away with raping and killing Maryanne? “Let’s go open the box and see what she has to say.”
The group went into the library and Darla set the box on the table. Justin stood in the doorway where he could see us and the three men in the living room.
Darla opened the box and started taking out Polaroids. The baby turned into a toddler, then a little girl. As the girl aged, the quality of the pictures improved.
I turned over one of the first photos. A slip of paper was taped to the back, and a note identified the child as Ariel Demerit, two years, six months. In addition, the sender had added Her hair is bright red and curly.
“Whoever had her kept Maryanne informed.” I picked up the last picture. In this one, a grown-up Ariel was looking into the eyes of a man in an army uniform. The writing on the back of this was shakier. I read the note aloud. “Our girl has given her hand and heart to a nice young man. He’s stationed overseas, but he loves her. Jonathon Andrew Gold has stolen her away.”
“Gold? Like Jake’s last name?” Esmeralda glanced toward the other room. “Does anything say where she was raised?”
We studied the pictures and then Amy snatched one up and pointed to a spot on a building behind the teenage Ariel. “Here. Doesn’t that say Baton Rouge High School?”
“Unless there’s another Baton Rouge, Ariel grew up in Louisiana.” I watched Esmeralda. “It could be a coincidence. We don’t even know if Ariel had a child. And besides, you said he was an orphan.”
Darla held up a picture. “She was pregnant. The last picture in the box shows her about to pop.”
“So we find out what happened to Ariel Gold and see if she had a boy or a girl.” I put all the pictures back in the box. “Anything else? Greg needs something to keep this guy longer than a jaywalking sentence.”
A book fell on the floor from one of the shelves. Esmeralda went and picked up the dark leather journal. “I think Maryanne is trying to tell us something.”
Chapter 8
Greg and Toby loaded David Young into the police cruiser. Greg had found his driver’s license in his wallet along with a faded picture of Maryanne. As Toby shut the door, Greg pulled him aside. “Don’t do any paperwork until I get there.”
“You don’t have to come in. I can handle the reports.” Toby jingled his keys in his hands. “It’s not a problem.”
“Don’t do any paperwork. We need some time to find something to prove this guy killed Maryanne Demerit. It’s a long shot, but maybe there’s something in the house. The guy was obsessed with her. Unfortunately, that’s not a crime.” Greg held Toby’s gaze for a few seconds longer. “You understand?”
“Yes, boss. I think I’m going to have to take a dinner break when I get back. Of course, I’ll put the prisoner in lockup before I order. And you know how long Lille’s takes to deliver on a Saturday night. I might not be done until way after nine. Then it’s too late to put the prisoner through all that.” Toby shrugged. “It might be morning before we get this handled. Besides we can legally hold him for forty-eight hours.”
“Good man.” Greg slapped him on the back and met me on the stairs. “Has Esmeralda found anything?”
“I think so. But she’s still reading. She keeps shooing us away when we ask questions.” I held him back before he went inside. “You don’t think Jake is Maryanne’s grandson, do you?”
“Weirder things have happened. Right now, I’m just concerned about keeping that guy in lockup long enough for us to find something to charge him with.” He ran a hand through his hair as we watched Toby pull out of the driveway and inch the car up the road. “The kid knows how to put on the brakes. I’ve never seen him drive that slow.”
I pointed to the now turning car. “And didn’t he just turn away from town? If he goes that way, it will take over an hour to get back to the station.”
“He’s helping.” Greg put his arm around me. “Let’s go figure this out.”
Esmeralda was drinking a beer when we got back into the house. “Okay. So, what we thought happened, did. She moved in here. He came by with a welcome basket and forced himself on her. Then he watched her. When she found out she was pregnant, he left her a note. It’s in the diary. Marry me or die.”
Justin shook his head. “So when she gave birth, she went away and gave the baby up?”
“Kind of. She told everyone she was going to San Diego for supplies. Instead, she went back home to”—Esmeralda paused and watched Jake before she continued—“Alabama to see family.”
“But she went to Louisiana,” Jake said, translating the look.
“To her mother. She had the baby and left her with her mother. Then Maryanne came back here and told everyone she’d lost the baby.” Esmeralda eyed another beer. “Some of the women from the church came by and told her it was for the best. I guess David didn’t buy the story as Maryanne mentions him stalking her for years. The last entry was frightening. She’d been hearing sounds at night, like someone was in the house. She’d called the police, but they hadn’t seen anything. She said she was packing up in the morning to leave and go home, but that was the last note.”
“Which the investigating officer probably read and said she’d left voluntarily.” Greg shook his head. “But what would he have done with the body?”
The stairwell flashed into my mind’s eye. “What if he pushed her off the stairs? Would the ocean tide have come up this far?”
“Show me.” Greg followed as I moved toward the back of the house.
I pointed to the repaired railing. “Look. He could have pushed her through and she would have fallen down on those rocks.”
“Then came back and fixed the stairs so no one would suspect. Besides, the police had already decided she had left on her own.” Greg studied the area where Maryanne might have fallen. “It works. And I might be able to get a warrant to search his house. Maybe he likes mementos.”
Esmeralda met us at the door. She held up the picture Jake had found in the attic. “Mementos like this necklace?”
“That’s the hawk David was wearing.” Greg leaned closer. “I noticed it because it was in silver. Jim, my brother, likes hawks and I’m always looking for something different to give him for his birthday. The chain’s different, but that’s Maryanne’s necklace.”
* * * *
Greg and I were sitting on my back porch recapping the events of the weekend while we watched Emma play ball by herself. She’d throw it in the air, then go running after it, over and over.
Turns out, by the time Greg got David into interrogation, the guy was ready to talk. Especially when Greg showed him the picture and the locket.
“He confessed?” That surprised me. “He’d gotten away with it for so many years. Why confess now?”
“He wants to make amends so he can talk to his grandchild. He overheard us talking about it earlier. He wanted us to follow up so he can have a relationship with the child.” Greg rubbed the back of his neck. “Although, I would think that the fact Jake was holding a gun on him while we took him into custody is a clue that his grandson wasn’t interested in a relationship.”
“He doesn’t know it’s Jake, right? I wouldn’t talk to him, would you?” I took a sip of my iced tea. “Besides, the jury is still out on Jake’s heritage. Did Jake find his birth certificate yet?”
“He already had it. He knew Maryanne was his grandmother from the moment he agreed to the weekend. But he’s found out so much more now. Ariel died giving birth to the boy. Worse, his father was killed in combat overseas and didn’t know about the baby. However, there is some good new
s. His father’s side of the family still has members out in the Baton Rouge area. Jake’s flying out tomorrow to meet them.” Greg threw the ball Emma had decided to drop at his feet out into the yard, then grabbed a towel and wiped off his hands. “I convinced him to leave his gun in his checked luggage. At least I hope I did. I don’t want to see him on the news getting arrested at the airport.”
“Well, it was a good thing he didn’t listen to you last weekend.” I waited for a reaction, but Greg only shrugged.
“I’m still not convinced that citizens should be carrying but Jake felt like he needed that level of protection. Of course, even with his permit, he was supposed to only carry it unloaded. I guess I forgot to check it for ammo.” He threw the ball again. “What are we doing for dinner?”
“I thought maybe you’d like to take me over to that new restaurant that just opened on Pacific Highway.” I watched my dog. “We could call a few friends and see if they want to double date?”
He pulled me to my feet. “I’ll buy you dinner anywhere as long as we don’t double date for a while. I’m ready for some couple time, just the two of us. Besides, after last weekend, the restaurant would probably burn down and we’d be trapped together in the basement or something crazy like that.”
“So did David admit to doing all those things to scare us, like move the books?” I thought he should be arrested for that alone, but according to Greg, it wasn’t a crime.
“He says Maryanne did it. That Maryanne was doing things to keep him away. He’s been searching the house for years to find a clue on the location of the baby.” Greg rubbed his neck. “The guy is crazy as a bedbug.”
“Crazy things do tend to happen here in South Cove.” I thought about the years I’d lived here. “Maybe it’s the tidal effect from the ocean.”
“Or maybe it’s just your getting involved in things that aren’t your business.” Greg turned me around and headed me to the door. “Hold your response back. Let’s go eat. I’m starving and I can’t get the energy up for a proper fight without some fuel.”
“Greg King, sometimes you’re such a pain in the butt.” I leaned up and kissed him. “But I guess we both have our faults.”
I went inside and ran upstairs to change into a sundress and my flowered flip-flops. Date night required a bit more flash than my jean shorts and tanks. As I washed my face and put a bit of lip gloss on, I smiled into the mirror. I was glad that Maryanne’s grandson had found family. And Maryanne had found peace.
The house would be demolished next month but not before the items in her library and potions rooms were with people who cared about them. And from what Darla had said, Josh Thomas, the local antique dealer, was giving her a substantial amount for the other items. Maryanne’s life hadn’t been what she’d dreamed, but at least she was making a positive impact on others’ lives now that she was gone.
And that’s all anyone could hope for.
SANTA PUPPY
Table of Contents
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
Author’s Note
Alternate Opening Scene
Teaser Chapter
About the Author
SANTA PUPPY
A Tourist Trap Novella
Lynn Cahoon
LYRICAL UNDERGROUND
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Dedication
Sometimes the magic of the season is in the little acts of kindness we show each other. Thanks to everyone who has touched my life this year. Your kindness has made me a better person.
CHAPTER 1
Home. It’s somewhere we can lay our heads at night. Where we can store our belongings and cook our food. Home is where we live with the people we love, raise our children, and cuddle with our pets. Some people live in houses. Some people live in homes. And a few, more than I’d like to admit, live in shelters and on the street, whether they be man or beast. I couldn’t do much regarding the human issue of homelessness today, but I’d had a brainstorm about the beast part.
Today, several of my friends and I were going to the Humane Society. With the window open, I could hear the waves crashing on the rocks as Greg King, my boyfriend and South Cove’s primary police detective, drove his pickup truck up the Pacific Coast Highway to Bakerstown.
Greg’s blond hair was just a little long, and the rushing wind was making him look like one of those models in the slow-motion ads. I’ll totally admit it. My boyfriend is a hottie. But his best attribute is a huge heart. He reached over and squeezed my hand. “This is an exciting project. Just think how many pets will be adopted after next Saturday’s party.”
“What if they’re not? It’s not fair that they have to be in those cages in the first place. They didn’t do anything wrong.” My resolve was wavering. Maybe I could bring home at least one small dog. Emma, my golden retriever, wouldn’t mind having a new friend.
“Jill, you know you can’t save the world. We’re going to make those dogs so irresistible that no one will be able to say no.” He turned up the volume on the stereo and started humming along with a Christmas carol.
I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Jill Gardner, and I run the only bookstore slash coffeehouse in South Cove. Well, I own the place. My aunt Jackie is the manager and she runs the store—and me, most days. Of all the places I’ve ever lived, South Cove feels like home. The town is the perfect little tourist spot right off Highway 1. We have one restaurant and a ton of art studios and galleries and a few specialty shops, so if you’re looking for coffee and a treat, it’s either my place—Coffee, Books, and More—or Diamond Lille’s. We have a pretty good hold on the food business. The closest grocery store is in Bakerstown. A fact I’d bemoaned more than once.
“Hey, when we’re done at the shelter, can we stop by the store? I need to pick up some things for the house, and I doubt that I’ll be this way again before the Christmas party.”
Greg nodded reluctantly, which was his usual response when I asked him to go shopping with me. The guy didn’t mind cooking dinner, but he hated stepping into the store. I knew I wouldn’t have much time once we stopped, so I took out my phone and started making a quick list of what I needed. I’d told Amy I’d be part of her Christmas cookie exchange, so I needed to bake eight dozen cookies before the party on Wednesday. What had I been thinking? And what was I going to do with seven dozen cookies once I got home?
“How many cookies can I bring down to the station on Thursday?” The people who worked for Greg were always looking for free food.
He looked at me, not smiling, but I could see the humor in his eyes even through his sunglasses. “You know Amy will be bringing in her extras. And Sasha’s going. She’ll bring in some even though Toby’s dating Elisa now.” Greg sighed. “That guy needs to settle down. I’m tired of the string of women flowing through the station. But that’s not my business. Anyway, cookie-wise, you’re going to have to be more creative than just dumping them at the station.”
“See, this is the problem with being friends with the people you work with. They all have the same oversupply of cookies.” I leaned my head back and let my hand hang out the window, playing with the wind currents. “I should have told Amy I was busy that night. Or sick. I could be sick and then I wouldn’t have to go. No one wants cookies from a sick woman.”
“I’ll help you make cookies Tuesday night. It will be fun. We can turn on Christmas movies and drink eggnog while we bake.” He paused, glancing at me. “Unless you want to ask your aunt to come bake with you. It would be a fun time.”
“I don’t think Aunt Jackie wants to help. Besides, she works the late shift on Wednesday.” Which was a perfec
tly good excuse for why she’d said no to Amy’s invitation. I sighed and checked my phone. No messages. “And she won’t let me take her shift.”
“She’s a mean one, your aunt,” Greg deadpanned.
“Not funny. You know she and Harrold are coming to the shelter today to help bathe the dogs. I don’t know what she’s even thinking. These dogs aren’t all teacup poodle–size.”
“Your aunt will be fine. She’ll handle whatever comes her way. And if the dog she’s given is too big, I’ll switch her out.” Greg turned the car onto the road that would take us to the shelter parking lot. “You’re kind of grumpy today. It’s a good thing we’re going to go work with puppies. Maybe that will cheer you up.”
“I’m not grumpy.” But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. I was out of sorts. Maybe it was because of the upcoming holiday. Maybe it was because of the cookies. Whatever it was, I was South Cove’s version of a scrooge. I took a deep breath and sent the bad juju out of my body with my breath. The positive-mantra trick was one of Amy’s suggestions. She was way into the California New Age lifestyle, as long as it didn’t affect her surfing obsession. I believed that a bad mood happened and it never hurt anyone. Being sunny and happy all the time just wasn’t a natural state of the human condition.
Amy and her boyfriend, Justin, would be joining us at the shelter. I guess I needed to blow off my bad mood before I got there, or she’d be talking to me about figuring out what I’ve been doing that has messed up my chi, or whatever it was that she thought caused bad moods. Sometimes I wondered why we were best friends. On some levels, we were so different. But maybe those differences were what brought us together.
“Are you going to be able to get off on Saturday to attend the party?” I stretched out on the seat, knowing we were just a few minutes away from our destination. My Jeep was roomy, but Greg’s truck cab was crazy comfortable.