Body on the Beach

by Maria Quick

  Dutifully, I turned to Ronnie, who had very capable hearing. More capable than his memory, apparently.

  ‘Bloody hell, I don’t even know what date it is now.’

  ‘It’s May 23rd,’ I told him. He spluttered.

  ‘I can’t even remember what I did yesterday, for crying out loud.’

  ‘Probably leered at women,’ George piped up.

  ‘He’s thinking about it,’ I told Castro, who gave me a friendly smile. I knew then that this was a trick I was doomed to fail. ‘Care to give him a little reminder as to what happened around that time?’

  ‘Sure. It was four days after Valentine’s,’ he grinned.

  No help there, then.

  ‘Ronnie, I’m gonna need you to think real hard about this, alright?’

  ‘I’m trying, but it’s hard when you don’t sleep. It’s been one long day since I kicked it. I’ve walked to Mount Rushmore and back in that time. All I can tell is that it was around the time I died. I’m sorry, Brianna. Truly, I am.’

  Sorry wouldn’t keep me warm in prison. It was with great trepidation that I turned to Castro and uttered the immortal words of every failed medium:

  ‘He doesn’t remember.’

  Somebody was celebrating Christmas early. He lit up like the night sky, all aglow with smugness at being proved right.

  ‘Really? Well, isn’t that a coincidence? Let me remind you. That was the day that Ronald Higgins took a small, empty suitcase out of his hotel room and returned hours later without it.’

  Man, I wonder where this was going?

  ‘You said you put the money in a briefcase,’ George frowned, as a car pulled up behind us. I didn’t need to turn around to see it was a police car.

  ‘Briefcase, suitcase. Same thing,’ Ronnie shrugged.

  ‘Okay, I see-’ I started.

  ‘We followed him as best we could. Our guy saw him go into a bank and withdraw his life savings. We lost him shortly afterward. But then, you come along with the answers!’

  ‘I know I said that-’ I said quickly, but not loudly enough as Castro talked over me.

  ‘Let me stop the tape a second and rewind, so we’re all on the same page here. Oh, by the way, you are being recorded. I guess I forgot to mention it with everything going on. Do you have any objections before I proceed?’

  I shook my head no. Might as well not annoy him any more than I already have.

  Dejectedly, I waited as he pressed a couple buttons on what I’d assumed was his satnav. He rewound too far and we had to hear me talk to myself for quite a long time. George was horrified, to say the least. This was real, concrete evidence that he wasn’t actually here. And he couldn’t handle it.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he whispered, sliding out the car.

  Ronnie only seemed mildly disturbed. Finally, Castro found the part he was looking for. He paused the tape briefly to get my full attention.

  ‘Any more thoughts on where you hid the money?’ I could be heard saying. Then nothing, until ‘Really? What a great place to put it. I don’t know why Angela didn’t think to search there.’

  It was there, in black and white. Or waves and amplitude. And I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  ‘I only said that because I thought you were going to kill me,’ I explained.

  ‘Meaning, you lied,’ he stated.

  ‘Well, yeah, but-’

  ‘Forget about that! That’s not important,’ he chuckled, still faux-friendly. ‘Let’s ask my buddy George a few questions, huh? Is he still here?’

  He had actually returned that second, but that’s obviously not useful.

  ‘It’s a different George,’ I said.

  ‘Of course it is!’

  I kinda wished that he had killed me by now. George rested his hand on my shoulder, which offered me absolutely no comfort whatsoever. Still, the nightmare wasn’t ending. Castro still looked like he had another card up his sleeve.

  ‘By the way,’ he continued, ‘I didn’t know that Ronald Higgins was a pro-surfer from Bondi Beach.’

  I needed a map, a compass and a GPS to find the meaning of that announcement.

  ‘Huh?’ I summed up.

  ‘The body on the beach was identified as Cal Johnson, 28. He flew over for a surfing competition. Hit some difficulties late at night, turned up dead a couple hours later.’

  Thunderstruck, I turned to the dimwitted asshole who brought me here.

  ‘That wasn’t you?’ I yelled.

  He held up his hands in a placating gesture, feeling sheepish.

  ‘I never said that it was.’

  ‘You massively, heavily implied it was, though,’ George groaned, sinking into the seat.

  ‘You didn’t think to mention that it wasn’t you?’

  ‘I never had the chance. Angela came along, and then, the other body...’

  ‘And what about now?’ I screamed. My lungs were burning which was great, because it matched the rest of my outfit.

  ‘You were on a roll,’ he shrugged. ‘Didn’t want to interrupt. Look, my body’s probably long gone by now. Fish food. You can forget trying to find it, if you want. I no longer care about it.’

  That made two of us. Deflated, I slumped back in the seat as Castro watched the show I was clearly putting on for his amusement.

  ‘This is why I don’t help people,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Because you’re an attention-seeking liar?’ he sneered.

  ‘For what it’s worth, I am sorry,’ Ronnie tried.

  ‘It’s worth absolutely nothing.’

  ‘You can drop the act,’ Castro sighed.

  ‘Not an act. Wish I could.’

  He raised an eyebrow at that, but had evidently had enough of my tomfoolery for one day.

  ‘Are you arresting me?’ I asked flatly.

  ‘Wish I could,’ he said mockingly. ‘My chief has decided against it. Money talks.’

  I couldn’t hide the relief, and he was disgusted. He turned away from me, shaking his head as he did.

  ‘Get the hell out of my car,’ he spat.

  ‘You’re leaving me here?’

  ‘Yeah, but don’t worry, Princess. Your knight in shining, diamond armor has come to rescue you.’

  I caught sight of a worried-looking man talking to Detective Taylor and wished I could die. It was my father. I got out of Castro’s car to face the music. He started up the engine as soon as I touched gravel.

  ‘Wait!’ I said suddenly, knocking on his window. Glaring, he rolled it down. ‘What was all this about? You owe me that much, at least.’

  ‘I don’t owe you jack-’

  I didn’t catch the last word as he revved and drove off, but I could take a guess.

  26

  My dad refused to say a word until we were in my hire car, far away from any outsiders. He’d apologized to the detective many, many times on my behalf before leaving him, on the promise that he’d be meeting them tomorrow with my lawyer. Yeah, I had my own personal lawyer. Whom I’d never met. He’d always sounded like a stuffy guy in a suit, so I let my father deal with him. I wondered how old Ken would get me out of this one.

  I was sitting shotgun, Ronnie and George sullen in the back as though chastened. I think we all felt pretty bad. Myself the worst - my dad hadn’t even acknowledged me yet. I knew what he must’ve been thinking. The whole Dan Rathers business had shaken him up. It’d been the worst experience of my life with- nope, not getting into all that, again. But he had been depressed over it. It’d taken a lot out of him to prove my innocence and he’d asked me to never do anything like that again. He’d asked me to promise never to mention the word ghost. I’d promised I wouldn’t.

  Then, ten days later, along came Ronnie.

  ‘She’s terrified, you know.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked, nursing my newly-bandaged cut. That was not the phrase I’d been expecting him to say at all.

  ‘Yasmin!’ he exploded, causing the car to swerve and another to honk. ‘You know Yasmin. Your aunt that you got i
nvolved in this mess you caused, destroying her home and her trust in the process? Did you even give one single thought to her at all?’

  ‘Of course I did. How is she?’ I asked, a stupid automatic question. Considering he’d just told me, anyway.

  ‘She’s furious, Bree. Confused, scared. She’s lived on that street for twenty years, and not a thing happened. Suddenly, she’s afraid of her own shadow. She’s lost a lot of weight. And she’s seriously thinking about packing up and moving far, far away.’

  ‘Well, that’ll be good for her, won’t it?’ I suggested, trying to see a positive side. ‘Petra caused her a lot of heartbreak, and it must hurt seeing her every day. This way, she can have a fresh start.’

  He groaned in disgust.

  ‘Petra’s more than her ex, Bree. She was her partner for half of her life. They had a mutual breakup and are really good friends- look, that is not the point,’ he snapped.

  ‘Then, what is the point?’ I asked, bewildered. I made a mistake, and I paid the price. Change the channel.

  ‘Do you really not understand what you did?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ I replied, though I didn’t.

  ‘She wanted to press charges, you know,’ he went on, driving past the airport. We seemed to be heading back to my hotel. Right, guess I needed to pack.

  ‘Against her niece? What would I even be charged for?’

  ‘Nothing, in the end. That’s the only reason you’re not arrested right now. She thinks you should be locked up, Bree. In jail or an institution.’

  ‘Well, she’s always been the dramatic sort,’ I said, though that wasn’t strictly true. Daddy agreed.

  ‘No, Bree. She’s never been dramatic in her life. And she’s not the only one who thinks that way.’

  Et tu, Papa? I bit my tongue as he parked the car – illegally, though I didn’t mention it – and geared up for a lecture.

  ‘I thought this was going to stop, Bree. After everything’s that happened, you promised this wouldn’t happen again. And almost immediately, you went against my wishes. Why? Why do you do it? Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you?’

  ‘I know, I know. You spent a lot of money-’

  ‘I don’t care about the money. It’s more than that, Bree. More than you’ll ever truly know.’

  Dan Rathers was his friend, in spite of it all. He still had a great reputation. His college had practically offered him tenure. It’s only me affected here.

  But he never saw that.

  ‘I can’t stop, Dad. I still see ghosts-’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Dad, you can’t keep denying this! I see them wherever I go, and they talk to me,’ I hastily tried to explain for the millionth time. I glanced at Ronnie and George as I did for support. They looked away in embarrassment.

  ‘That’s not true, Brianna.’

  It was never a good sign when he called me that.

  ‘How can you say that? I’m your daughter, and I’m telling you this is true. Why can’t you believe me?’

  ‘Because you’ve been to psychiatrists and therapists. Doctors couldn’t find anything physically or mentally wrong with you, sweet pea,’ he said softly. ‘The very best experts said you were making it up.’

  ‘Experts can be wrong.’

  ‘That many?’ he countered.

  I breathed a heavy sigh. I was all mixed up and off-kilter, and all I wanted to do was scream into a pillow and cry a little.

  ‘Why aren’t you seeing any now?’ he asked, as I knew he would.

  ‘There’re two in the backseat, Dad.’

  ‘Of course there are.’

  No matter what I’d said to that, I wouldn’t have won.

  ‘Besides, they’re free spirits. They come and go-’ I halted as he turned the ignition on again, the conversation dealt with for him. ‘Dad. Tell me one thing. How would I even know about all this? I’ve never met these people. I’ve never been to Miami.’

  ‘They checked your laptop, Bree. You searched local news stories until you found one you liked the look of.’

  ‘After I booked my flight.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he frowned. ‘You said you were staying at Yasmin’s, and you sent her an email saying as much. Then, you just couldn’t help yourself.’

  ‘Dad-’

  ‘Please, Brianna. No more.’

  He pulled back into traffic and we were both quiet, but my mind was racing. I felt dangerously close to tears and I avoided looking at Ronnie and George. Luckily, they didn’t seek me out, either.

  I don’t know why I bothered. I’d told George exactly what my father had said, pretty much word for word. Hearing it from the other side... it’s hard. After all this time, it’s still really hard. It’s like the Boy Who Cried Wolf, but not really. Because even he was proved right in the end. I never will be.

  And weirdly, despite everything, I still try and make him believe me. It’s been over ten years. Why would I be faking it for a decade with no end in sight? After being mocked and called a liar for so long, I would stop if this wasn’t real. Nobody in their right mind would continue if it wasn’t happening. But my therapists don’t see that. They said I was perfectly sane, with an “active imagination.” A couple of sympathetic detectives in the past have said I could put my “investigative” mind to good use and go to police academy. Like I’m watching a crime show and trying to guess the murderer or something.

  Nobody gets it. And the more they don’t, the more I want them to.

  ‘She killed her husband and the police don’t know,’ I blurted out.

  ‘Brianna...’

  I could hear the warning tone, but it was too late.

  ‘She killed him, Dad. That makes her a murderer. And she’s trying to take his life savings and make his memory disappear.’

  I could see he wanted to pull over again, but he refrained, deciding to stick with sighing and a furrowed brow.

  ‘The police are investigating Angela Higgins. Whatever she did, she’ll get her comeuppance.’

  ‘Why are they investigating her?’ I pressed.

  ‘They didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask. I’m a civilian, and so are you. You can’t keep... what’s the point,’ he muttered. ‘Please, stop, Brianna. You’re getting too old for this.’

  ‘Even though I have information on a crime, you still want me to stay quiet? What if they don’t have enough on Angela, and she goes free? Would that be okay with you?’

  ‘Yes, frankly. I don’t know her from Adam.’

  He was lying, I knew it. He believed in justice exactly like I did. Okay, maybe not exactly. I wasn’t too bothered either way if Angela stayed out of prison. I only wanted rid of Ronnie. But, screw it. I’d appeal to his sense of justice if nothing else.

  ‘She murdered her husband, Dad. All for money. That’s wrong.’

  ‘What’s wrong is you making up stories about people you’ve never met and making a fool of yourself.’

  ‘Do you want me to do right or look right?’

  ‘I don’t want you to get hurt,’ he answered, pulling into my hotel.

  ‘That’s not what I asked, Dad.’

  ‘That’s the answer I’m giving.’

  It wasn’t really an answer, though. It’d be great if he actually listened to what I had to say for once, before calling me a liar. But he was too straight for that, too vanilla. Maybe things would be different if my mom hadn’t left.

  He parked and turned off the engine, making no move to get out the car. I fought the urge to run away and sat patiently, waiting for him to go for one of three options. Door number one: this is killing me, Bree. Door number two: if you do this again, I won’t save you. Let’s see, what’s behind door number three?

  ‘Maybe you should talk to someone.’

  Ding! I’d take the therapy option, please.

  ‘Ken’s been a friend of mine since college.’

  ‘Who’s Ken?’

  ‘Your lawyer?’

  ‘Oh, right.’

 
Bizarre choice of human. Usually he goes for Dr. “Please, Call Me Tess” Ingram. She’s the latest one in a long line of smiley professionals. She’d come to the same conclusion as everybody else had. Poor little rich girl, not getting enough attention. Keen interest in crime and the prevention of. Probably watches a lot of murder mysteries and projects herself onto those characters. Right, yeah. Totally me.

  I’ve never watched a crime drama all the way through. Can’t stand them. When I tell them this, I can tell they don’t believe me. Isn’t that their job to believe me? Or try to understand, at least. I tell them I watch action movies, but I’ve never run into a burning building to save anyone. I ain’t projecting jack.

  So, why would I bother talking to my damn lawyer? He doesn’t have to believe me, he has to defend me. That’s all.

  ‘She can help you,’ he finished, and I was pulled back into the here and now. I guessed he’d eventually come around to Tess.

  ‘Thanks, I’ll think about it. I’m pretty tired, Dad. I think I’ll go for a nap.’

  ‘Sure!’ he smiled, super enthusiastic about me doing something normal. ‘I could only book a flight for tonight, so, go rest. I’ll be right outside your door.’

  ‘Okay, that’s unnecessary.’

  ‘I’m legally obliged. The cops told me I had to,’ he said, in a voice that suggested no arguing. Well, I could argue, but it’d do me no good.

  ‘Fine, whatever.’

  ‘I love you, Bree.’

  ‘Love you too, Dad.’

  With those faux sentiments out of the way, we smiled falsely and headed for the hotel. I feigned a stretch so he’d walk ahead and I hung out with my imaginary, fake pals who didn’t exist.

  Or one of them, anyway.

  ‘Where’s Ronnie?’ I hissed at George.

  ‘Gone to find Angela, apparently.’

  ‘Oh, great. I knew he wouldn’t let this go,’ I groaned, a little too loudly. My dad turned around sharply.

  ‘Did you say something?’

  ‘Yeah, I said...’ I paused for dramatic effect, thinking of absolutely nothing. ‘Nothing, Dad. You’re hearing things.’

  He turned back doubtfully. He was suspicious now; wait till he found out what I was planning.