by Linda Berry
“So, you’re a scientist?
“Yeah, I admit it. I’m a science geek and environmentalist. Humans are having a catastrophic impact on our oceans. I’m working on finding solutions for living in harmony with the natural ecology. I also explore treatments for chronic diseases using the venom of sea creatures.”
“Venom as medicine? That sounds counterintuitive.”
He chuckled. “Actually, it’s not. For decades, scientists have been studying the venom of spiders, snakes, and sea creatures for medical purposes.”
“So, you’re saying poisonous creatures that can kill us in an instant could also save our lives?”
“Exactly. Snake venom is already being used to treat ailments like heart attacks, Alzheimer’s, and brain injuries.” Derek’s eyes brightened, and his voice became animated. “My special interest is sea creatures. Biotech companies are finding that toxins found in anemones and cone snails have the potential to treat autoimmune diseases. Research like mine could take off in the next decade and could provide natural therapies that don’t have the serious side effects of prescription drugs.”
She met his eyes with all sincerity. “That’s commendable, Derek, that you’re working to save the planet and help people who are suffering. I had no idea you even worked. I thought…”
He gave her the ghost of a grin. “I just drive around in a nice car and do yoga?”
She managed a tired smile in return. “Pretty much. I’m sorry I never asked about your work. I didn’t want to pry.”
“You’ve been a little preoccupied.”
“A little.”
“If you’re interested, come out to my lab. I’ll show you what I do. Introduce you to my pet fish.”
Selena’s hands tensed in her lap. Another invitation. Even though Derek was being light-hearted, she sensed his keen attraction to her, and there was an underlying intensity to his character that both frightened and intrigued her. She looked off to one side to avoid his penetrating stare. Her instinct told her to keep him at arm’s length, but on the other hand, Derek was an interesting guy—intelligent, and strong-willed. He’d lived through a terrible catastrophe and beaten the odds, and now he was in better shape than most of the men she knew.
“Just a friendly visit,” he said in a soothing voice, a voice that conveyed confidence and control. He flashed that quick smile again, his teeth even and white. “I think you’ll love my sea creatures and coral reefs. They’re pretty cool.”
With the emphasis on friendly visit, Selena had a change of heart. She felt her tension ease a notch. She could use a break. Ann’s farm felt ominous these days. “I’ll stop by this afternoon for a bit. Where do you live?”
“Not far from Ann’s. I know you’re staying there.”
She frowned. “Seems everyone knows my business.”
“It’s a small town, Selena. People talk.”
“And judge.”
“If you want to avoid judgment, live under a rock. These days, simply breathing opens you up to criticism. What Jeff is threatening to reveal about you and Randy is probably already circulating through town. Tomorrow it will be old news. Then it’ll fade away.”
Feeling drained, Selena rubbed her tired eyes. Derek was right. She couldn’t keep people from talking, and eventually her blip on the radar screen would disappear altogether. “Just so you know, Randy and I are getting divorced. I’m moving forward with my life.”
“That’s good to hear.” Sadness touched his face, warming his brown eye. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through. If there’s anything I can do to help…”
“Thanks. Just talking helped.” She straightened her shoulders. “I better get going before Jeff comes back.”
Derek fished out his wallet and handed her a card. “Here’s my address. See you this afternoon.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SITTING ON THE PIER in the warm sun with the sound of waves washing against the pilings, Sidney and David indulged in fresh seafood. He ate heartily; halibut tacos with cilantro slaw. She pushed grilled salmon and rice pilaf around on her plate and tried hard to focus on David’s cheerful musings. Between bites, he spoke of his morning adventure exploring gift shops, getting a surprisingly good espresso at a food truck, walking barefoot on the beach. “It was good to feel sand between my toes again. Didn’t realize how much I missed the California coast.”
She pulled her thoughts away from murder and psychopaths and allowed his enthusiasm to gently lift her spirits.
Looking a little windblown, hair finger-combed, David picked up his backpack, which had been empty when he left her at the station, and now was bulging.
“How’d you manage to stuff it to the gills?” she asked.
“Easy. Gifts for the kids. Starfish, seashells.” He showed her a piece of driftwood sanded smooth by the ocean, and a perfectly symmetrical sand dollar. He traced the petal-like pattern on its surface with his finger. “Look at the perfection of the design.”
“Nature is amazing,” she said, admiring his ability to find beauty in simple things.
He opened a side flap on his pack and pulled out a small white box tied with a red ribbon. “Something for you.”
Sidney opened it, a smile teasing her lips. On a bed of cotton lay a black freshwater pearl on a gold chain. A rainbow of color shimmered beneath the pearl's surface, similar to rainbows reflecting on soap bubbles. “This is beautiful, David, but…”
“Uh uh. Don’t say it.”
“Say what?”
“That I’m trying to bribe a public official, and you can’t accept it.”
She laughed. Actually, she was thinking it was too soon for David to be giving her such nice gifts. Jewelry was personal, symbolizing something not yet communicated between them.
“Okay, I admit it. It is a bribe.” David’s easy smile reached his chestnut brown eyes, crinkling the edges. “A down payment for a kiss, redeemable at my choosing.”
Remembering the sweetness of his kisses, she realized she was looking forward to the next one. “It’s a deal.” She lifted the chain to her neck and struggled with the clasp.
David brushed her hair aside and fastened the clasp, his warm fingers grazing her skin. She held her breath until he pulled away.
“Now that you’ve interrogated me about my morning, care to share yours?” he said.
“It wasn’t pretty. Talking about it will ruin your appetite.”
“Don’t worry about me. I have an iron stomach. I pretty much connected the dots anyway.”
“That so?” Her eyes challenged him.
David swallowed a bite of food, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, “You didn’t come out here in the middle of a homicide investigation just to talk to a gallery owner about Satoshi’s butterfly. You obviously saw a connection between her death and Sammy’s.”
She was impressed. Good analysis.
“I spoke to a few folks in town about Satoshi’s work,” he continued. “People opened up, filled me in. I found out she died in the lighthouse, and rumors are flying that it wasn’t suicide.”
She could see how people would open up to David. He was friendly, unguarded, and genuinely interested in what they had to say. “So people are talking.”
“Yeah, they are. Back to your objective for coming here. I’m thinking you wanted to confirm that the same nut job murdered both women. My guess, Sammy’s wrists were also cut, and you found the butterfly with her body. Am I right?”
David had a logical mind. He’d make a great detective. “I can say neither yay or nay. What else you got?”
“That’s it. Your turn.”
Sidney related a few details about Satoshi and Samantha that weren’t privileged. He listened attentively. As she spoke, she realized getting her jumbled thoughts out in the open helped her view the evidence with more clarity.
David’s expression turned somber. She wondered if sharing details of her work would push him away. He wouldn’t be the first. Murder didn’t make good dinne
r conversation. One man she dated asked her how she could consider having children with such a high-risk job. Another suggested that if she liked police work so much, she should marry a cop and get herself a safer career. Sidney felt a thud of apprehension when David mimicked her thoughts in a grave tone.
“This guy sounds extremely dangerous, Sidney. He scares me, and I’m not even the gender he chooses to murder.”
“My team and I can handle him. And we can handle ourselves. I’m more worried about the next vulnerable woman who crosses his path and catches his attention.”
His eyes narrowed. “You care deeply about others. To the extent of putting your own life at risk.”
“Yes. I care.”
“I admire that.” He took her hand and held it, running his thumb over the back. His voice was low and unexpectedly tender. “I know you’re good at your job. Please be extra careful.”
They regarded each other in silence and much was unspoken. David wasn’t pulling away. He was showing concern. It softened her heart. David’s touch felt nurturing and sent tingles up her arm. A young waitress brought their coffee and Sidney reluctantly pulled her hand away.
“I have a confession,” he said, stirring cream into his coffee. “I’m carrying. A .380 Beretta Pico in an ankle holster. A habit I’ve carried over from the military.”
“When was this?”
“When I was in my twenties. Army. First Lieutenant.”
So David had been an officer in the military, responsible for men and women under his command. That explained his ease around her uniform. “You always carry?”
He nodded. “It’s an increasingly dangerous world.”
“Yeah, it is. You ever use your weapon as a civilian?”
“Fortunately, no. But if I have to, I’m a decent shot. I practice weekly at the range.”
“Commendable.”
“We could practice together sometime.”
She smiled. “Is that your idea of a dream date?”
He smiled back, and then got serious again. “I want to support you and know you’re as safe as possible.”
Again, his words hit the soft spot in her heart. “Sure. Let’s practice together. I’m getting rusty.”
They lingered at the table, sharing a slice of chocolate ganache cake, nursing coffee, watching seagulls squawk for scraps of fish from a handful of fishermen. Shoals of clouds swam through the sky and sharpening gusts of wind stirred whitecaps on the water. A good storm was brewing on the horizon.
Officer Conner appeared and walked along the pier until she reached Sidney’s table, the wind pulling wisps of hair from the tight coil at the back of her neck. She nodded politely at David and handed Sidney a manila envelope. “Here’s the info I promised.”
Sidney thanked her and did a quick check of the contents—a flash drive and a few pages of printed emails. “Great work.”
“Let me know if I can do anything else to help, Chief Becker.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Sidney watched Officer Conner walk back to her patrol car, reflecting on the officer’s good instincts and bold initiative. If she ever got a budget to hire another officer, Conner would be at the top of her list.
〜 〜
The art gallery stood out in sharp contrast to the rustic, sun-bleached shops surrounding it. The white stucco façade had clean, modern lines, as did the sign that read Miguel Angel Gallery. An elegantly pruned tree in a big red pot stood sentry on each side of the door. The stylish gallery could have been a transplant from a fashionable art district in any big city.
Sidney and David stepped from the sun baked beach town into a calm, cool, pristine environment. The interior of the gallery was a long, spacious room where every object had been positioned with tasteful discernment. The walls, the sparse furnishings, and all of the art frames were soft white, which made the colorful canvases immediate points of interest.
“Very Zen,” David said.
A slender figure dressed in flowing black pants and a black silk shirt stepped from an office and approached them with athletic grace. “I’m Miguel. Can I help you?”
Miguel had expressive dark eyes, a full mouth, and a single lustrous ebony braid that fell nearly to his waist. If Officer Conner hadn’t referred to Miguel as male, Sidney would have been hard pressed to determine his gender.
“I’m David Kane. I called yesterday regarding Satoshi Akira. This is Police Chief Becker.”
Miguel’s genial expression disappeared and his eyes darkened. “Thank you for looking into Satoshi’s case. Dismissing her death as a suicide was a terrible injustice to her memory and to her family.”
“You two were close?” Sidney said.
“As close as business colleagues could be. Satoshi was a quiet, private person, but we had great respect for one another.” A touch of bitterness edged into his tone. “She would never have killed herself.”
“You believe she was murdered?”
“I’m certain of it. She had everything to live for. She was excited about her new project, a series of origami sea creatures with large proportions, several feet in diameter. She had already created a magnificent sea horse and an octopus. Both sold before they were finished.”
“Did Satoshi ever speak of anyone stalking or threatening her?”
“Never. She was so gentle I can’t imagine anyone hurting her.”
“I understand you collect her work.”
He nodded. “I’m an avid fan. Would you like to see my collection?”
“Yes,” she and David said simultaneously.
“Come with me.”
David placed a hand on Sidney’s back and they followed Miguel to the rear of the gallery. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked an unmarked door. They entered another pristine room where dozens of framed origami pieces adorned the walls.
“They aren’t for sale. I come in here just to enjoy them. Satoshi’s spirit lives and breathes in this room.”
David and Sidney drifted through the room, admiring the small masterpieces. She stopped abruptly at a display of colorful butterflies encased in glass boxes.
“You like her butterflies,” Miguel said, joining them.
“Very much. I’m hoping you can help me identify a couple we found in Garnerville.” Sidney fished her phone from her handbag and brought up the photos of the two butterflies found at the crime scenes, and the one found in Noah’s bedroom.
“Why is this one so faded?” Miguel asked in a disapproving tone.
“It got rained on.”
“Shame.” Miguel rubbed his chin. “Hmmm. They’re identical to the ones in my collection, except for the paper on the faded one. Satoshi was doing these small floral prints about three years back.”
The timeline fit Mimi’s death exactly.
“She switched to bigger motifs with lotus blossoms this year, like these newer ones.” He pointed to the photos of the other two butterflies.
Next, Sidney swiped to the photo of Mimi’s butterfly after it had been unfolded at the lab, with only the mysterious symbol legible. “Recognize this?”
His face twitched with irritation. “Someone took it apart? That’s sacrilege. It can never be refolded.”
“This is evidence in a murder case, Miguel. The crime lab was focused on catching a killer. They had no idea it was valuable art.” Sidney paused for effect, and Miguel’s expression sobered appropriately.
“Was someone else murdered like Satoshi?” he asked.
“That’s under investigation. I was hoping you could tell me who bought these butterflies and what was written inside.”
“I don’t know her private business contacts, so I can’t tell you who the buyers were.”
“Does the name James Abbott ring a bell?”
“No. Sorry.” Miguel pointed to the mysterious symbol on the unfolded butterfly. “But I can tell you about this hexagram. It’s from the I Ching.”
“The Chinese book of wisdom?” Sidney remembered Officer Conner refe
rring to the same book.
“Yes. For each of her pieces, Satoshi did an I Ching reading, and before folding it, she wrote the verse on the blank side of the paper.”
“What is the I Ching?” David asked. “Fortune telling?”
Miguel smiled. “Not exactly. Seeking predictions about the future implies the future is already written, and we have no power to affect the outcome. The I Ching is more about getting guidance in the present, to help us make decisions that create the future we would choose. It’s more a book of divination. Like consulting an oracle.”
“An oracle?” David’s eyes brightened with interest.
“Along with the Bible and the Koran, the I Ching is one of the most translated and studied books in the world. It teaches morals and ethics, and how to live in harmony with everything in the universe.”
“Where can we find this book?” Sidney asked.
Miguel met Sidney’s gaze. “My copy is in my office. I’d be happy to look up the hexagram in your photo.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Sidney said, a little chill racing along her spine. She wanted desperately to understand why three women were brutally murdered. Perhaps a clue to the killer’s motivation lay within the book of wisdom.
Miguel’s office was painted a soothing moss green and was minimally furnished with a glass-topped desk, a bookshelf, and three modern-style chairs. Two beautifully sculpted bonsai trees were strategically placed to please the eye. The gentle sound of falling water drew her attention to a stone and slate water feature in one corner.
Miguel pulled a thick book from the shelf, settled himself behind his desk, and motioned for them to sit. “There are sixty-four hexagrams, representing sixty-four virtues and situations,” he explained. “Each hexagram is made up of six lines. The lines are stacked one upon the other, and each line is either solid or divided in the center. The order in which they are stacked gives each line a special meaning.” He glanced at Sidney. “May I see that hexagram again, Chief Becker?”
Sidney pulled up the photo and passed over her phone.
He slipped on a pair of frameless reading glasses and continued speaking as he studied the small screen. “Hexagrams, like architecture, are built from the bottom up, one line at a time. This one has two broken lines on the bottom, two solid lines, one broken line, and one solid line on top.” He bowed his head over the book and thumbed through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “This is hexagram fifty-six. The Traveler. It’s a metaphor for a man traveling through a transition in his life.” He read silently for a minute. “Let me read you the part I believe Satoshi would have inscribed in the butterfly. ‘The superior man applies punishment with understanding and prudence and does not keep people imprisoned. Trifling with unimportant matters, the traveler draws upon himself calamity. Like a bird burning its own nest, the traveler first laughs with joy and then howls in sorrow.’”