“The what ifs and should haves will eat your brain.” It was a quote of John O’Callaghan’s, from his book of poetry entitled, Sincerely, John the Ghost—ironically, a gift from Zoe, who’d always eschewed the notion of Percy’s and Celeste’s spirits.
The point is, if I hadn’t done all those things, then I wouldn’t have seen that glint on the ground and gone over to check out what it was. Most crucially, I would never have noticed a hand through the rusted-out hole in the dumpster.
A very dead hand.
2
Cassandra
Five minutes later, Whale Rock Police Chief Brooks Kincaid’s cruiser pulled up next to my Miata.
“What’s this all about?” he asked, whisking sandy-colored hair off his forehead in a lifelong habit.
“I don’t know, Chuckles.”
He responded with a stern look from my use of the nickname he so despised. It sprang from his famous belly laugh, for which he’d been mercilessly tormented as a child. These days, few dared to call the imposing man anything other than Chief or sir, but considering our long history, I was usually granted a pass when it slipped out.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, then pointed to the hole in the dumpster. “You tell me.”
He hiked up his khakis and crouched down for a closer look.
“What the …?” He stood and whipped out his phone. “I need a forensics team ASAP.”
After providing the pertinent details, he ended the call and then began taking photos of the scene.
“You don’t need to stick around,” he told me as he unwound yellow crime scene tape.
Just then, Billy Hughes popped his head out to see what was going on. He sent me a quizzical look, but it was Brooks who asked him, “How long has this dumpster been here?”
“About a week.”
“Can you get an exact date and time for me?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Find out that information, and then we’ll have a chat.”
I could tell Billy was taken aback, but he disappeared into his shop.
“Do you think the ring’s a clue?” I asked Brooks, who had slipped on a pair of gloves and was scooping it from the crushed shells of the alleyway into an evidence bag.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He squinted up at me. “You didn’t touch it, did you?”
I took an involuntary step backward. “I know better than to mess with evidence.” Though had I not seen the hand first, there’s no question I would have picked up the shiny item that had caught my eye.
Billy came out of his shop again. “I just spoke with the dumpster company and their records show a seven thirty delivery last Thursday morning.”
Brooks made a note of it in his small, worn notebook, then turned to me and said, “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
I did. However, staying here to find out who was in the dumpster was much more interesting.
“Not really,” I said as the county forensics van pulled up the alley, blocking me in.
Brooks spent several minutes talking with a woman who, I presumed, was the head forensics investigator, while two men unloaded equipment and biohazard bags and donned protective gowns, goggles, and gloves.
Billy and I silently looked on until Brooks remembered we were there. He returned to where we were standing, pointed directly at me, and said, “Go run an errand. I want you out of their hair.”
“Fine.” I raised my hands in surrender.
Brooks then patted Billy on the back and guided him into the shop, saying, “Let’s you and me have a little talk.”
I leaned against the Miata, watching as old cabinets were lifted from the dumpster and contemplating where I could idle for an hour or so while the team did their work. I stalled as long as I dared, knowing Brooks would be livid if he found me still loitering at the scene when he came back out. My only exit, aside from going back through Archie’s store, was to walk around the crime scene, and there was just enough space for me to squeeze by the other side of the van. As I rounded the back of the vehicle, a bulky rolled-up rug, from which the dead hand appeared, was being lifted out of the dumpster. I held my breath, hoping Brooks wouldn’t come out before I got a look at who was attached to that hand.
“Come on,” I whispered as the rug was slowly unrolled.
Finally, one of the techs said, “Male.”
I stood on tiptoe, which bought me a glimpse of an unfamiliar face under a shock of platinum hair. Thank God it’s not anyone I know.
“He hasn’t been here long.” This from the woman, who turned to the other tech and said, “Go get Chief Kincaid.”
As badly as I wanted to stay, that was my cue to leave. I scooted out of the alley seconds before another cruiser pulled in. It was Officer Bland, Brooks’s aptly named second in command, but he seemed focused on the task ahead and hopefully hadn’t noticed me.
To kill time, I headed toward the harbor to see if Daniel was around. I found him and Johnny Hotchkiss in the office with their heads bent over the desk.
“Hey Cassie Lassie,” Johnny said as I poked my head in, using the nickname he’d given me as a kid. In the years since my father had sold the business to him, Johnny had grown it to where a partner was needed, and fortunately the timing had been perfect for Daniel to step in.
“What’s up?” Daniel asked.
I was dying to tell him about the body, but knowing what a chinwagger Johnny could be, decided to wait until Daniel came home later.
“I was in town for my final dress fitting and thought I’d stop by to say hello.”
“Sorry you two had to postpone the wedding. Bad timing, this storm,” Johnny said, giving a sad shake to his head. “We were just finalizing the schedule for getting the remaining boats moved or tied down.”
Others in the harbor were doing the same. I spotted Robyn Landers docking her sailboat, presumably with plans to have it dry-docked during the storm. Robyn wasn’t a Whale Rock native, but over a decade ago she and her now ex-husband had purchased a beach cottage here, which they’d named Land’s End. I didn’t know Robyn well, but we’d bonded a little over being divorcees, and I knew she’d gotten both the sailboat and Land’s End as part of her settlement. During summer months she lived on the boat and rented out the cottage for some extra income.
A familiar-looking man I couldn’t quite place was helping her at the end of the dock. “Who’s that?”
Daniel followed my gaze. “A new hire.”
“You remember Wes Creed?” Johnny asked.
I nodded. “Thought he moved to Florida.”
“He’s back.” Johnny made a face. “Things didn’t work out so well for him down there.”
Wes Creed had been a few years ahead of me in school and was good friends with Johnny’s youngest brother, which was probably how he got the job. Wes wasn’t exactly a ne’er-do-well, but he’d been kind of aimless, moving from job to job, until an opportunity came up for him down South. Though his skin had leathered a bit from the Florida sun, Wes hadn’t lost his looks or any of his thick, wavy hair. More sexy than handsome, and in good shape for a guy who’d passed forty, though I could see the slight beginnings of a beer gut forming.
“Like what you see?” Daniel had caught me staring.
“Who, Wes?” An incredulous little snort escaped. “As I recall, he was always trouble with the ladies.”
“A regular ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ kind of guy,” Johnny agreed. “Hopefully he’s settled down by now.”
“I’ll let you two get back to your schedule.” I planted a kiss on Daniel’s worry-wrinkled forehead, then waved at Johnny. “See ya.”
I still wanted to kill some time, so decided to make a quick stop in to All the Basics to pick up something for dinner.
“Not much left,” Stella Kruk lamented as I took in the stark shelves, a contrast to the usually crammed-full shop. She was one of the greedier business owners in town, notorious for both her scandalous price gouging and mean-spirited gossip. Still, as the only
market walkable from all the beach houses, she did a good business.
“Are you going to close up?” I asked while gazing into the freezer.
“Can’t see the point in staying open when all the customers will be leaving. Plus, deliveries are going to be delayed.” Stella sighed. “My daughter wants me to come stay with her until the storm passes.”
“Good plan,” I said, setting a frozen pizza on the counter along with a bag of arugula and a package of gorgonzola crumbles.
“What in heavens name do you hope to make with this?” Stella frowned as she bagged the items.
“Salad pizza.” I grinned at her. “It’s my specialty.”
Thank goodness Daniel enjoyed cooking. But during the busy season, I tried to pull my weight in the kitchen, if salad pizza could be called cooking.
Stella rang me up, and thirty dollars later for three measly items, I headed back to my Miata. The forensics van was gone, and so were the two police cruisers, but the yellow crime scene tape remained as a gruesome reminder.
3
Cassandra
“Have you talked to Brooks at all?” I asked Daniel the next morning while sharing a quick breakfast over the kitchen sink. I’d told him about my discovery of the body when he got home yesterday, but with the storm now less than thirty-six hours from hitting, his attention was on other matters.
“Briefly.” He shoved down the last of his toast and brushed the crumbs from his fingers.
“Any leads?”
“Apparently not. I think the case is temporarily on hold. The force has their hands full with enforcing the mandatory evacuation areas.” He took a gulp of coffee. “We mainly discussed the tall ship’s plans for moving out.”
The Whale Rock Chamber of Commerce had finally succeeded in enticing a tall ship company to bring one of its old-fashioned schooners to town for a week of day and sunset cruising and on-board tours. Unfortunately, the Lady Spirit’s visit would be cut short because of the storm.
“I’m surprised they haven’t already left,” I said, yawning.
“The captain stopped by yesterday. Models for the storm’s path after it hits the Cape are all over the place, so it’s been hard for them to nail down a route.”
“They’d better leave soon.”
“They have to go today,” he agreed, then finished his coffee and rinsed out the cup. “What’s on your schedule?”
“Getting everything set up for our temporary lodgers.”
“Good thing we have the carriage house and that you installed a generator and added a bathroom out in the barn,” Daniel said. “We ought to be able to easily accommodate another six to eight people.”
“Thank goodness ‘It’s no ordinary barn.’” I quoted my Granny Fi as Daniel smiled. The first barn on the property had been lost to the hurricane of 1924, which had devastated Cape Cod and killed my great-grandmother’s beloved rabbits and goats when the outbuilding collapsed. After that, Percy had insisted the new barn be built to survive a hurricane. And it had since survived many. Now it served as my studio, and I’d been slowly making it a more comfortable space—all part of a plan for recruiting artists to rent the carriage house and share the studio with me. The idea had come from Zoe and Lu, back when I’d almost lost The Bluffs to mounting debt, and it had become a wonderful financial asset.
“I’m sure the Parsons crew will be quite comfortable out there.” Pete Parsons was the Harbor Master, and he and his wife, Emma, lived just blocks from the harbor in a low-lying area. They were the first people Daniel had invited, and they’d be bringing along some relatives who were visiting.
“I’ll put the Princes in the guest suite upstairs.” Daniel and I were close friends with the young couple; Jason was the newest deputy on the police force, and Laura was writing for the Cape Cod Times. I’d invited them to stay with us, since the beach house they were renting was also precariously low-lying.
“Edgar and Jimmy will be in the carriage house?” Daniel asked.
“Mm-hmm. I was hoping they’d come tonight, but they still have work to do closing up their place, so I don’t expect them until tomorrow.”
Edgar Faust and Jimmy Collins were other dear friends. When I’d learned that their Chatham home was in a mandatory evacuation area, I’d immediately reached out to invite them to stay with us. They would have been over this weekend anyhow for the wedding. In fact, we had asked Jimmy to officiate the vows.
“We could make room for more if necessary, but I’m hoping this storm will be kind to Whale Rock.”
“You’ll be here most of the day then?”
“Except for picking up food from Feast.”
He sent me a quizzical look.
“Our wedding caterer,” I reminded him. “Since we have to pay for what was already in the works, I decided to bring it out here to feed the evacuees. Someone might as well enjoy it.”
“Damn storm.” Daniel pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. “It will work out. You’ll see.”
“I know,” I said into his polo shirt, surreptitiously brushing away annoying tears. I wanted to agree, but as the room filled with an acrid burning scent, it was clear to me that Percy and Celeste were displeased by this turn of events.
It was difficult to ignore their negative view of the postponement of our planned nuptials. Maybe our union was cursed. God how I hated that word!
“Do you need me to come down to the harbor to help?”
“No, I think we’ve got it covered.” He pushed me back to study me closely. “You’re good?”
“Perfect.”
“It will be a late night.”
“Off with you then.” I offered my most genuine fake smile and he was out the door.
Not ten minutes later, as I was loading up a basket with sheets and blankets, a call came in from Laura Prince.
“Cause of death was blunt force trauma,” she blurted out.
“Wow, you’re good,” I told her as I hoisted the basket of linens onto my hip and headed toward the barn. Knowing I was unlikely to get anything out of Brooks about the suspicious death, I’d put Laura’s bloodhound nose on the scent.
“I’ve cultivated some great sources,” she said, not in a bragging way.
“Is there an ID yet?” I asked.
“Lee Chambers. Does the name mean anything to you?”
It didn’t.
“My sources tell me that he was a small-time drug dealer and general thug who only started hanging around Whale Rock because of the party house.”
I knew what she was referring to. This was the second year that a large group of frat boys had rented out Sea Breeze cottage on the beach, and the community was not pleased by the loud party atmosphere and unsavory elements they’d attracted to our family-friendly town.
“Do any of your sources know what might have caused that blunt force trauma? Was it a rock? A hammer?” I ventured.
“Too early to know.”
“Keep me posted?” I said.
“Sure thing. But this stays between us.”
“Always.” I set the basket on the floor and surveyed the area where the mattresses had been set up. “Are you and Jason coming out tonight?”
“Doubtful. They’ve got Jason on evacuation duty, so you probably won’t see us until tomorrow morning. And it might just be me.”
“Such is the life of a rookie cop.”
“And a rookie cop’s wife.” The sigh echoed through the phone.
While I made up the temporary beds, I couldn’t stop thinking about Lee Chambers. It felt personal, since I’d been the one to discover his body. I didn’t think I’d ever get the image of that dead hand out of my head.
4
Cassandra
The storm was fast descending on Whale Rock, and the harbor area was a chaotic scene, with volunteers scurrying about to secure boats and evacuate the last remaining stubborn beach dwellers.
Lu and I bent our bodies into the wind, heading toward the last cottages on the southern end of the
beach, where we’d been sent to ensure everyone had evacuated.
“Isn’t that your friends’ dog?” Lu pointed up the beach. Sure enough, the Princes’ gorgeous black German shepherd was prancing around where Laura and Jason’s bungalow flanked Land’s End cottage, the last house on this end of the beach. As we drew near, the Princes emerged from Land’s End with another man and a pit bull, neither of whom I recognized.
“Hey guys,” I called out to them, but only Whistler heard me over the roar of the wind. He ran to greet us, nuzzling my pocket for the dog biscuits I always carried with me these days. I lovingly patted his sleek, black coat before offering the treat and murmuring into his ear, “What a good boy.”
Lu had walked ahead to greet the trio, leaving Whistler and me to straggle behind.
“Why are you all still here?” I shouted, approaching the group, who were now securing a sailboat and tying up the rigging.
“We’re helping our neighbor.” Jason made the introductions, keeping his voice loud to be heard above the crashing surf. “Lu Ketchner, Cassie Mitchell, this is Christopher Savage.”
I reached my hand out, which Christopher shook with his left, raising his bandaged right. “The owner’s kitchen knives are sharper than I’m used to.”
“So, you’re the lucky guy Robyn Landers found to rent Land’s End.” Robyn had lost her usual summer renter. “Openings are rare, especially right on the beach.”
“In that case, I guess I am lucky.” He was a pleasant-looking man with a deep tan and sun-kissed highlights to his hair, which was thick with the summer grease of salt and surf.
“You’ve got some good neighbors in Laura and Jason too.”
“It’s a good thing I saw him out here this morning,” Jason added. “He was just bringing in Robyn’s dayboat.”
“You were out in this?” I sent him an incredulous look. “You must be some sailor.”
“I hadn’t been out long when I realized it was getting worse and turned back.”
Storm of Secrets Page 2