Body on the Beach

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Body on the Beach Page 6

by Maria Quick


  I took a deep breath, sorry to get that story out in the open. Maybe now George would stop asking about it and we could move on.

  ‘There’s something you’re not telling me,’ he stated instead.

  ‘There are a lot of things that I’m not telling you,’ I said shortly. ‘Nor do I plan to.’

  A lot of things I don’t want to think about ever again. Like Tommy. Great, now I was thinking about him. Time to do what I do best and completely forget he ever existed. Easier done than said. All I do is put into a little box in my mind and pretend it’s not a memory. He wasn’t real, I didn’t know him, and now I can live my life.

  ‘Alright, I won’t ask again. Are you putting those shorts on or wearing them as a bracelet?’

  I looked down to the clothes in my hand, pretending to think about it.

  ‘I’ll be outside,’ he announced. I waited for him to go so I could dress myself in peace.

  9

  ‘Stop ogling,’ I murmured, hiding my face in my magazine.

  ‘Why? They don’t know.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right? They can practically feel your eyes boring into them,’ I said, looking at over at the group of bikinied women. They caught me looking and giggled. Great, now they thought I was ogling them. I quickly turned around on my sun lounger so they wouldn’t see my face burning up from embarrassment.

  The beach was fully occupied, since it was a Saturday afternoon in Miami heat. It was a fact I’d overlooked, but I was here now and utterly bored. I’d picked up every girly magazine possible on my drive down, but I’d already gone through three and had definitely reread the same story about eighteen times. I had another six to go, but I decided not to bother. I pulled out my headphones from my bag and George tutted.

  ‘Oh, thanks. I’m not allowed to admire the scenery but now you’re allowed to ignore me? Double standards.’

  ‘I’m not ignoring you. I’m protecting myself.’

  ‘You should protect your skin,’ he told me critically, looking painfully at me. I dutifully added more sun cream and settled back down.

  ‘Alright, now we can talk.’

  ‘Great. Um, do you like sports?’

  I sighed at his stupid tone.

  ‘Maybe I will ignore you,’ I decided, plugging my headphones into my cell.

  ‘No, wait! Yeesh, talk about overreaction. What do you want to talk about?’

  ‘I meant the case. Ronnie. Angela. Any thoughts so far?’

  ‘They deserved each other.’

  I grinned. That had been my thought, too.

  ‘You think the money’s somewhere on this beach?’

  I gazed around at the sand stretching for miles and groaned.

  ‘God, I hope not. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Or when, come to that. Beaches are rarely empty. If I start digging up something at night, people are bound to get suspicious.’

  ‘So, you’re going to leave the money?’

  ‘Hell no. Where did you get that idea? No, my hope is that he actually buried it on a private little beach, with maybe an X marks the spot. That’d be great.’

  ‘Would be great,’ he agreed. ‘Probably not plausible, though.’

  ‘Yeah, you might be right. But I don’t even know what hotel he stayed in, or where he went while he was here. And now we’re going to have to wait here for days or weeks until he graces us with his presence.’

  ‘Could be a long time. Just out of curiosity, how long would you say it takes to run from Ohio to Florida?’

  ‘For a regular person, with stops along the way? Factoring in highways, lakes and mountains? I don’t know, about a fortnight?’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ he grinned, before looking over my shoulder and waving.

  ‘Hey, Ronnie!’

  Instantly, I turned to where he was facing. He wasn’t joking. Ronnie had apparently run to Miami in less than a day. He stopped goggling at the women long enough to notice us and begrudgingly came over.

  ‘I was busy.’

  ‘You’re disgusting,’ I informed him.

  ‘But it’s alright for you to gawk at those fellas playing volleyball?’

  ‘I’m not gawking at anyone,’ I sighed, sadly looking away from said men. ‘How did you get here so quickly?’

  ‘Got bored of running and flew.’

  ‘That’s what I’d do,’ George chuckled.

  ‘That’s cheating.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be the first time I’d partaken in that,’ Ronnie told me cheerily. ‘Right, what’s the plan?’

  ‘We were hoping you could tell us. Does this look like the beach where you buried the money?’ George asked.

  ‘I see you’re not doing this for altruistic reasons.’

  ‘I can’t use it and she doesn’t need it,’ George pointed out.

  ‘Plus, it’s the likeliest place for your wife to be. Is she still in Miami?’

  ‘Yup. Changed hotel, though. I nipped in on my way here. She’s already got a new fancy man.’

  ‘How do you know he’s new?’ George asked. It was a valid question.

  ‘Because her previous one was my manager.’

  Ooh, the plot thickened. This was juicier than the pineapple smoothies they were selling a couple feet away. I wasn’t typically a fan of soap operas, but good God I loved hearing stories like this.

  ‘Tell us more,’ I pleaded.

  He glared at me, correctly guessing my trail of thought.

  ‘Vultures, the both of you,’ he snarled, before relenting. ‘They met at a charity gala about five years ago. Hit it off, which was great for me because I thought I was getting a promotion. But then he started asking how Angela was, and she’d ask me how Dave- that’s my boss-’

  ‘Figured.’

  ‘Well, she’d ask about him, and that’s when I started seeing the signs. Plus, she told me before she whacked me, which was also a really big clue.’

  ‘Arguably the biggest,’ George piped up.

  ‘This is all very interesting,’ I yawned, ‘but where does he fit in to all of this?’

  ‘Nowhere, actually. I mean, probably a catalyst, but I haven’t seen him since. And if she’s still here, looking for the money, then clearly he wants nothing to do with her. She’s on her own. Except for the fancy man.’

  ‘And he is?’ I probed, lifting my wire to my mouth as a group of people walked by.

  ‘Dunno, never seen him before. Some arsehole.’

  ‘I think she was actually after a description,’ George gently suggested.

  ‘Oh. Didn’t get a really good look at him, but young. Younger than me, anyway. I’m guessing a waiter.’

  ‘Think she told him about the money?’ I asked.

  He pondered it before shaking his head.

  ‘Nah. But on that, she’ll be running out of her own savings now. She didn’t have much to begin with, and the hotel isn’t cheap. She’ll be getting desperate. She’s already proved she’ll kill the man she spent her life with. She’ll have no problem killing you. Not you, obviously,’ he added, for George’s benefit.

  ‘Yeah, thanks man.’

  ‘You know, this information would’ve been more useful, say, before I left Ohio.’

  ‘You already had that information,’ he frowned. ‘At the very least, you could’ve made an educated guess.’

  ‘Have you not met her? She doesn’t do “educated,”’ George said. They had a good laugh at that, I can tell you.

  Ignoring them, I flipped over onto my stomach again, intent on enjoying the sun. The change in their faces told me that was a bad idea.

  ‘Is that lotion or cooking oil?’ Ronnie cried, pointing to my bottle of sun cream.

  ‘You look like that balled watermelon over there,’ George helpfully pointed out. Okay, that was enough sun for today. Tenderly, I redressed in my loose-fitting top – which was nowhere near loose-fitting enough – and headed for my rental. They loyally followed my painful footsteps. Luckily they decided to pick up an earlier chat, leaving
me to whimper as I remembered the leather seats.

  ‘So, does this beach look familiar?’

  ‘Erm... there’s a tree over there, and I suppose from this direction the sea might- bloody hell, it’s a patch of sand! Do they not all look the same?’

  ‘If you ever decide you’d like to be helpful, let us know, Ron.’

  ‘That’s Ronnie to you,’ he growled.

  ‘Do you at least remember if it was big or small?’ I asked, now that we were in the safety of the car. My back hit the seat and refused to move even an inch. To make matters worse, it had baked in the sun. I was going to get a bucket of ice from my hotel bar, and I was going to drown myself in it.

  ‘We went to a lot of beaches, big and small. And medium,’ Ronnie whined. God, I wished I could punch him. No wait, my knuckles were sunburned. How do knuckles get sunburned?

  ‘Any that stand out to you? Maybe that had a special memory, or a particular attraction?’

  ‘Sure. Lots of them did. But I wouldn’t have put it on any of them, because we went to them. They’d be the first places she’d look. After the obvious room search, of course.’

  ‘So, what you’re saying is, you buried the money somewhere you didn’t go?’ George clarified.

  ‘That’s right.’

  That narrowed things down. Not. I just had one thing to check first.

  ‘Are you sure it’s not in your room?’

  He looked at me like my brain cells had evaporated along with my skin cells.

  ‘I’m... almost positive. Look, no. I buried it. I distinctly recall sand, night-time and me digging in said sand with a shovel. I then placed the briefcase in the sand and buried it. I don’t remember when or where.’

  I’d found things with less, I guess. Still, it would’ve been great to have even a teensy bit more info. Like was there a cove nearby, perhaps, or was it closer to sea or in-land.

  ‘What did you do with the shovel?’ George blurted out. That was an intelligent question I’d honestly not thought of.

  ‘Lobbed it in the sea.’

  I wasn’t sure what lobbing was, but I could make a guesstimate.

  ‘Okay, so we check local news stories for any shovels found floating on the tide,’ I innocently suggested. I was immediately mocked from all sides.

  ‘Man, how little do you think of local news? In what world would that be in any way noteworthy?’

  ‘A cat got killed with a shovel once. That just about made local news. Small paragraph and they spelled the cat’s name wrong, but still. Maybe it killed a baby dolphin?’ Ronnie offered. Ever the optimist.

  ‘Wow, here’s hoping,’ George said.

  Alright, enough sarcasm.

  ‘Let’s go over again what we have. It’s buried on a beach somewhere. That’s it. That is actually it. How many beaches are in Miami?’

  ‘Not sure, but they’re all over the coast,’ George answered straight away.

  We both turned to stare at him.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Valid information.’

  We turned away.

  ‘It’s probably not on this beach,’ Ronnie said. ‘I’m almost positively certain-ish of it.’

  With odds like that, I ought to bet on it.

  ‘Better get started, then.’

  10

  We pulled up to the fourth beach of the evening, making our way down until we were roughly in the midst. So far, no recollections from Ronnie. I was hoping this next one would spark his memory in some way, but I wasn’t holding out for much. As beautiful as the beaches were, they were also astoundingly similar. Ronnie had only stared blankly at each mound of sand before turning to George and me with a half-shrug. It was clear that we were going the wrong way about this. If this beach gave the same answer, we needed a new plan.

  ‘Anything?’

  As soon as I saw his face, I knew the answer was no. Great. Strike one on Ronnie’s bucket list. The only good thing about the long-ass drive was that it meant that I was out of the sun. My skin was a lot cooler and less lobster-like than it had been earlier today.

  ‘Alright, enough of this. Let’s focus on something else for now. Where exactly were you whacked?’

  Ronnie staggered back in mock shock.

  ‘Blimey, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?’

  I bit back a sigh and waited. My temper was starting to flare, and coupled with my extreme exhaustion, I was not in the mood to play games.

  He noticed my frame of mind and straightened up, albeit with an eye roll.

  ‘South Pointe.’

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  ‘We started at South Pointe! You didn’t think to mention it?’

  ‘You didn’t ask me then,’ he shrugged.

  This is why I don’t help people. Since I couldn’t re-kill him, I headed back to the car with nary a word their way.

  ‘Are we going to look for my body now?’

  ‘You can. I’m going to bed. And I am damn well sleeping in until after noon.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ George called. I could feel them scurrying to keep up with me.

  ‘Gee, I don’t know. Why don’t you two look for the body? And maybe the briefcase, too, and tell me whatever you find in the morning.’

  ‘We can’t do that without you,’ Ronnie exclaimed. ‘Wouldn’t be right. We’re a team.’

  This trip keeps getting better and better.

  ‘Honestly, I’m completely fine with that. You don’t need me at all. I’ll be in the hotel all day tomorrow, in fact. You guys go do adventuring stuff. It’s cool.’

  And then all they had to do was tell me where the case was and I could dig it up. Send an anonymous email to the Miami police force about Angela committing a murder, and hey presto. Another happy customer.

  I turned to wish them luck as I reached my car and groaned at the disappointment on their faces.

  ‘What?’ I demanded. Did they want me to do everything for them?

  ‘You know, for someone who can see into another realm, you’re not what I expected.’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ George agreed.

  ‘I’m not Scooby Doo,’ I told them, irritated. ‘I can’t drop everything and sacrifice my own life to sort out your problems. I have issues of my own, you know. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. And my dad hates me right now and so do my teachers, I guess, along with everyone else I’ve ever met. All I want is to be left alone, for the rest of my days, but that’s too much to ask, isn’t it?’

  Slightly alarmed and abashed by my outburst, they gave me a concerned look before turning to the other.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t get it,’ Ronnie said.

  ‘Me neither. I’d be totally psyched in her position.’

  Ugh. The living didn’t understand me, and now I could add the dead to that list, too. I got into my car in a huff, hoping they’d both somehow find peace in the night and vanish. Instead, I found them phasing through the trunk to sit themselves in the car. I glared at them in the rearview.

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, that was me storming off. Alone.’

  ‘What?’ Ronnie asked innocently. ‘You’re heading back that way, anyway. I’m too lazy to walk there.’

  ‘You don’t have energy to expend,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘You don’t know how lazy I am.’

  I could see I was not going to be a winner tonight, unless I wanted to walk to my hotel. I did not. I could barely keep my eyes open. I probably shouldn’t even be driving, but hey, maybe I’d fall asleep at the wheel and kill myself.

  Whoa, that was a dark thought; even for me. I rolled down the window to get some much-needed air and floored it.

  ‘So, are you the only one or what?’ Ronnie bleated on after I’d calmed down.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘How do you not know? Have you never met anyone else like you?’

  ‘Yeah, actually. We meet frequently. Every Tuesday and Friday at Ghost-hunters Anonymous.’

>   ‘There’s got to be more of you. There has to be. Have you never wanted to find them?’

  ‘No, because I know where they’d be,’ I told him, pulling into the lot. ‘Stuck in asylums or jail. Or, if they’re lucky enough to still be on the outside, they’ll have spent years repressing their thoughts until they’ve convinced themselves that they don’t see ghosts.’

  He frowned at me.

  ‘What makes you different, then?’

  ‘I’m rich,’ I sighed. Affluenza did have its perks.

  He looked ready to carry on the argument as I left the car, but the sight of police cars and a cordoned area on the shore gave us all pause. A coroner’s van was parked a little farther down, and a small crowd had gathered.

  I deduced that there was a body on the beach, and I could take a guess as to who it belonged to.

  It was a somber moment for lucies when this happened, so I didn’t break the silence. Though it didn’t happen often, I’d had lucies in the past who’d insisted on going to their own funerals – or cremations, which was even freakier. They’d said it gave them closure, but I think it was really morbid curiosity taking over.

  It had the same effect on Ronnie. As I drifted over to the distressed crowd, shooting videos and taking selfies (ugh, really?), Ronnie wandered straight through the cordon to pay his respects. To himself. Each to their own, I guess. George seemed a little weirded out by the whole mess, choosing to stay near the car. At the moment, I wasn’t sure if they were treating the death as suspicious or not, so I eavesdropped on the people eavesdropping.

  ‘It’s so awful. My kids were here only yesterday.’

  ‘Really makes you count your blessings, doesn’t it? That poor man. I bet he was a father and a husband. Taken so soon.’

  ‘They think he might have been murdered,’ someone whispered, full of excitement.

  ‘Murder? Nobody has any respect at all anymore,’ said a person videoing the whole thing.

  And I stopped listening. That’d later be written up on every social media platform they could find. People have a funny interpretation of the word “respect.”

 

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