Storm of Secrets

by Loretta Marion

  37

  Cassandra

  When I awoke, it was to a half-empty bed and a quiet house. I reached down to pet my furry friend only to find her gone. I leaped from the bed and made haste down the stairs, but neither Daniel nor Gypsy were to be found. Spotting Gypsy’s lead missing from the hook by the pantry door reassured me that Daniel had likely taken her for a walk, which I confirmed by calling his cell phone.

  “You have Gypsy, right?” I tried to keep the worry from my voice.

  “Yep. I tried to take her to the land trust trail, but she kept tugging me back. So finally, I gave in and let her lead me to where she was quite determined to go.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The Mitchell family burial grounds,” he said with a chuckle. “Gypsy felt the need to pay her respects at every stone.” He uttered a mild curse before calling out to the dog, “Heel.”

  Had Christopher taken Gypsy there before? As I pondered that, I spied a square of newsprint under the kitchen table and had to crawl beneath the large round mass of oak to reach it. It was the article Christopher had shown me yesterday, which must have slipped from his file and fallen to the floor unnoticed.

  “I just found something interesting.” I frowned at the photograph.

  “What’cha got there, girl?” I heard Daniel mumble to the dog. “Looks like we also found something interesting.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ll show you when we get back to the house.”

  I went back upstairs and changed out of my PJs into something nice for a change. My first choice was abandoned when I couldn’t get the zipper up. I really did need to stop with the Twizzlers, or my phoenix tattoo—positioned between my pelvic bones—was going to look very odd. I noticed the mint-green sundress I’d selected for the rehearsal dinner. Might as well get some use out of it. Besides it was cool and flowy, perfect for this hot and humid fat day.

  The first thing I did when I went back down to the kitchen was to take a fat-free yogurt from the fridge, telling myself it was as good a day as any to start a diet.

  When Daniel returned with a reluctant and panting Gypsy, he said, “She tried to go to the carriage house.”

  I stooped down to rub her ears. “He’ll be back soon, baby.”

  I filled Gypsy’s food bowl with kibble and sprinkled on a little parmesan cheese, which had seemed to do the trick last night when she initially refused her dinner. It didn’t work this time. Gypsy pushed her bowl away with her nose and hopped up on the window seat, where she had a straight view to the carriage house.

  “Now that’s true devotion.” Daniel tipped his head toward the dog. “Let’s hope Christopher returns.”

  “Why on earth wouldn’t he?” I didn’t dare bring up what Laura had told me about the DNA.

  He shrugged, signaling the end to the discussion, and then gave me the once-over.

  “Wow.” He whistled. “Don’t you look nice. Going somewhere special today?”

  “No, just tired of feeling grubby.”

  He leaned closer and said, “Mmm. You smell nice, too.” When I reached for a hug, Daniel held up his hands. “Not until this grubby man has showered.”

  “A manly man, you mean.” I raised on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Before turning to set up the coffee maker, I pointed to the table. “See that article from The Globe?”

  Not wanting to lose the original, I’d tucked it away for safekeeping and laid out the copy of the article I’d found tucked in one of the books Edgar had borrowed from Christopher.

  “Christopher showed me that yesterday. It was with some papers of his mother’s.”

  “Who’s the guy circled?” Daniel squinted to read the print.

  “That’s the question. He evidently meant something to Christopher’s mother.”

  “Really?” Daniel was intrigued.

  Do you think you could have one of your buddies at the Bureau look into who he is?”

  His gaze shifted from the article to me, but he fingered the paper and nodded. “Should be pretty easy if he’s in any way associated with Ambassador Welles.” He gulped down his coffee, then emptied the rest in the sink. “I’d better hit that shower and get to the courthouse. The judge renders his decision about the transcripts today.” He was talking about the record of the conversation between Nicholas and Christopher.

  As I watched Daniel’s SUV pull away, it dawned on me that he’d forgotten to tell me what he and Gypsy had discovered in the graveyard.

  * * *

  After Daniel left, I put in a call to Brooks to tell him about Robyn Landers losing her keys.

  “He’s here,” Officer Kirkpatrick told me. “But he’s in conference.”

  I asked Lisa to have him call me and then left a message on his cell phone, telling him I was heading to town and had some urgent information.

  “What’s this urgent information?” Brooks asked when he called back.

  “Remember that key ring that was found near the dumpster the day Lee Chambers’s body was discovered?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I have an idea. Can you bring the key to Land’s End? I’ll meet you there.”

  “I’m way too busy to play games, and I’m due at the courthouse soon.”

  I’d have to be a little more forthcoming to convince him, even if it revealed my snooping. “If I recall, the letters ‘LEC’ are on the label.”

  “I thought you didn’t touch it.”

  “I didn’t, but the other day when you knocked over all those files? A photo slipped out and I saw it.” He didn’t say anything, so I went on to explain my hunch. “At the time, I didn’t even think about the ‘LE’ standing for Land’s End. It wasn’t until Robyn told me yesterday that she lost her keys that I was struck with the possibility it might be one of hers. ‘LEC.’ Land’s End Cottage.”

  He blew out a long breath before finally saying, “Fine. I’ll check it out.”

  Five minutes later, his cruiser pulled up next to my Miata—I was finally able to ditch the truck.

  “How did you get here so fast?” he asked.

  “I was already here when you called me back.”

  He shook his head and muttered an exasperated oath as he marched with a quick stride to the cottage door and tried the key. “Nope.”

  I followed Brooks around to the beach-facing side of the cottage, him telling me, “Yeah, we originally thought it was Chambers’s key too, but it didn’t fit with his apartment door or anything else of his.”

  I couldn’t hide my disappointment when the key didn’t work on that door either.

  “Well, it was worth a try anyhow,” he said, checking his phone. “But now I’ve got to go. I’m running late.”

  As we rounded the far side, I saw another door partially obscured by the outdoor shower. I recalled Christopher telling Jason on the day of the storm that it was a storage closet and was always kept locked.

  “Hey wait,” I called out to Brooks who was opening the cruiser door. “There’s one more door here to try.”

  Resignedly, he came back and inserted the key and turned it, this time to the gratifying sound of an unlocking click. Was that the “Hallelujah Chorus” I was hearing?

  Along with shelving, neatly filled with boxes of personal items, several rugs were rolled up on the floor. Brooks flipped over the corner of one and swore. He then took a photo and made a call, all the while keeping me in suspense.

  “Lisa, I just sent you a photo of a carpet. Can you check to see if it’s similar to the one in the Chambers case?

  My eyes must have popped, for he brought a finger to his lips and then pointed to me while sporting a very stern expression.

  “Yeah, I’m still here,” he said into the phone, chewing his lower lip while listening to whatever Lisa was telling him. “Okay, then. Get a forensics team out to Land’s End.” He nodded. “Yes, again. And I need someone to bring Robyn Landers in for a little talk.”

  He disconnected and said to me, “I mean it. Not a word.
”

  “Promise.” I held my hands up in surrender, though I was feeling very guilty about involving Robyn in this mess. “Could you leave me out of it when talking to Robyn?”

  “How do you suppose we do that?” he asked, hands on hips.

  “Robyn said the keys were lost while her boat was in dry dock. She must have reported it at the boatyard.”

  He rubbed his chin. “All right. I’ll have David call to see if any keys have been reported missing.”

  “You’re a gem.” To show I was truly on his side, I added, “Robyn mentioned that Matthew Kleister and his investigator paid her a visit. Also, Wes has borrowed money from her.”

  “Interesting.” He nodded but said nothing more.

  “Again, please don’t mention that I told you that either.”

  “I think we’ve become skilled enough to ask questions without revealing a source.”

  I felt a little thrill at being considered an official source for the WRPD.

  “I didn’t realize you and Robyn were such good buddies,” he said.

  “Casual friends, but I like her.”

  “Okay, so beat it before anybody sees you here.” He sped off in his cruiser, and I got in the Miata and drove up Harbor Drive, spying some activity at The Lookout. An older couple was loading up suitcases into an SUV while Helene and Nicholas were keeping the twins and Lucas corralled and out of mischief. The only Kleister I didn’t see was Matthew.

  The streets of Whale Rock were busy again with people returning for the last weeks of summer, forcing me to turn up Main Street to park. I then walked back down to The Lookout.

  “Hey there,” I called out in greeting.

  Helene gave a wave but kept her attention on the little ones. It was Nicholas who took me by the hand and dragged me toward the older couple and told them, “This is Cassie.”

  “We’ve been hoping to meet you,” the woman said. “I’m Matthew’s mother, Jeanne, and this is my husband, Will.”

  “Cassie Mitchell.”

  “Daniel Benjamin’s wife, right?” Will asked. Now, that was a first. I couldn’t wait to tell Daniel, who’d often complained about being second fiddle, constantly hearing, “So you’re Cassie Mitchell’s friend.”

  “Soon-to-be.” I looked out toward the water. “Chantal interrupted our wedding plans.”

  “Storms don’t stay long, but they sure do leave their mark.” Will’s words bore a rueful quality and reminded me of what Sister Bernadetta had said. “Lots of shattered pieces in their wake.”

  “It’s hard to believe that a name as pretty as Chantal could be attached to such devastation.” Jeanne looked over at Helene. “I read it means ‘to sing’ in French. Well she sang all right, blowing the lid right off some carefully guarded secrets in our world.”

  Will cleared his throat and gave a subtle nod toward Nicholas, who had kneeled to inspect a grasshopper.

  Jeanne’s hand flew to her mouth as her face reddened. To her husband she mouthed the word sorry and then said to me, “Will has diagnosed my condition as say-it-like-it-is-itis.”

  “Not a bad thing to have.”

  “Sometimes,” she agreed. “But not today.” She noticed that Nicholas had lost interest in the grasshopper and took his hand. “Let’s go help Mommy.”

  “My wife means well—just forgets to put the brake on sometimes.” Will raised his eyebrows and shoulders in a what can I say gesture. “She’s right, though. The storm brought us much heartache when we thought we lost Lucas. It also opened our eyes to some secrets that were just as damaging to our family.”

  “How’s Lucas doing?” I asked.

  “We are thrilled by how well he’s rebounded from the whole ordeal. Back to the ways of a normal toddler, with all the good and bad that entails.” He grinned as he took in the scene of his grandchildren playing. But when his gaze focused on Nicholas, the smile faded. “I hope to eventually be able to say the same about Nicholas. A boy his age shouldn’t have to grow up so quickly.”

  “He’s a good boy,” I said. “He’ll be okay.”

  “My daughter-in-law tells me you’ve been a help during this awful time. We appreciate that you took an interest.”

  “It’s the Whale Rock way,” I said.

  I said my goodbyes to the family and walked back to my car, thinking about what Sister Bernadetta had said about storms swallowing up secrets. Conversely, for the Kleisters, a storm had exposed their secrets. These ruminations were interrupted when I spied Jason heading toward the police station and ran to catch up with him.

  “Wow, they’ve made good progress on the repairs,” I said, walking through the front door with him and finding Deputy David Bland sitting at the station desk.

  “Now that the roof’s fixed, we’ve been able to move out of that dungeon.”

  I was secretly disappointed that I couldn’t see who, if anyone, was being held in the cells. Matthew Kleister? Wes Creed? Thelma and Louise?

  “Where’s your lovely wife this morning?”

  He frowned. “She’s lying low today. Under the weather again.”

  I almost slipped with Probably morning sickness, but stopped myself in case Laura hadn’t been able to share the good news of his pending fatherhood.

  “I’ll pop over and check in on her,” I told him.

  “That would be great.” He opened his wallet and pulled out a five. “Could you stop and get her an Americano at Uncommon Grounds? Cream, no sugar.”

  “Sure,” I told him as the desk phone rang, though I’d be getting her an herbal tea instead.

  “Whale Rock Police,” Officer Bland answered and after a few seconds rolled his eyes. “That’s not a matter for the police, Ms. Kruk.”

  In addition to being a nosy Parker of the nth degree, Stella was also forever calling in complaints to the police department.

  Backing out the door quickly, I could only imagine what could be Stella’s crisis du jour.

  38

  Cassandra

  I sent Laura a text: Where are you?

  The reply text was immediate: Courthouse. Can’t talk.

  So much for being under the weather.

  A few minutes later, however, she followed up with another text: Meet me at Chocolate Sparrow. Good news.

  As I headed over to meet Laura, still debating whether to share the news about Robyn’s keys with her, Daniel’s Land Rover passed. I honked and he stopped and backed up.

  “Finished at court?” I asked after we both opened our driver side windows.

  “For now. Here’s the information I found about the guy in the newspaper clipping.” He handed me a printout. “Doesn’t mean anything to me, but maybe it will help answer some questions.”

  “Thanks.” I gave it a cursory look and set it on the passenger seat.

  “What are you doing in town?”

  “Laura’s under the weather, and Jason asked me to check on her.” It was the truth after all. Besides, Daniel would find out about the keys and carpet soon enough, and I didn’t know how much Brooks planned to share about my involvement.

  “She must have had a quick recovery,” he said wryly. “I just saw her at the courthouse.”

  “Yes, I just found that out. I’m on my way to meet her now. She says she has some news. Would you know anything about that?”

  “Yes, but I won’t spoil it for her.” He smiled and tipped his head. “Go ahead.”

  “Hey! You forgot to tell me what you found at the graveyard.”

  Daniel held up a finger and turned away. When he turned back, he handed me an envelope. “I think you’ll find it to be an interesting discovery.”

  I held on to his fingers, and he gave mine a squeeze as someone behind us laid on the horn.

  “Oops.” I gave a quick wave and drove off.

  * * *

  I found Laura at the popular coffee and ice cream shop, nervously tapping the table like a drum. “What took you so long?”

  “I was gathering some information of my own.”

>   I decided to keep the news about Robyn’s keys to myself, so instead I passed across to her the envelope Daniel had just given me. Inside was a strand of black rosary beads with an ornate silver crucifix.

  “Sister Bernadetta’s?” she asked, fingering the beads.

  “I would assume so. Daniel found them in the family graveyard.”

  Laura looked down at them again and asked, “Where in the cemetery did Daniel find these?”

  “He didn’t say. Why?”

  “I was just wondering if she dropped them or left then intentionally.”

  I texted Daniel: Where did you find the rosary beads?

  A few seconds later he responded: Barnacle Boy’s grave.

  I held the phone for Laura to see, and we both shrugged.

  I then showed her the document Daniel had given me and explained about The Globe article. “I don’t think it’s who Christopher was hoping it to be.”

  “Well, I have some good news for our friend Christopher,” she said.

  “He could use some.”

  “It’s been officially determined that he played no part in Lee Chambers’s death.”

  “That’s great! How do you know?”

  “Brooks told me on the condition I sit on the story for a day or two. But he’s promised me an exclusive, so I’m happy to wait.”

  “I doubt you’re happy about it.” I smiled.

  “I am happy about this, though.” She slid a file across the table, looking around to make sure nobody was listening and whispered, “A copy of the transcripts.”

  “How on earth did you get this?” I whispered back.

  “Not my sources. This time it was a very careless courthouse clerk.” She tapped the file. “Go ahead. Open it. I’m not going to get her in trouble,” she assured me when I hesitated. “I’ll return it as soon as you read it and tell her it was left on the bench by my bag, and I picked it up by mistake. She’ll be grateful to have it back, but I want to get it to her before she realizes it’s missing.”

  My heart was pounding as I began to peruse the documents recording the interviews with Nicholas Kleister. The first was a record of the brief discussion he had with the child psychologist while his parents and Judge Simmons were present.