Murder by the Seaside (17 page)

He pressed his lips to my head and let himself out the side door. I locked up behind him and watched his taillights disappear. The minute he was out of sight, I went to change. I packed a gym bag I found in Adrian’s closet and tossed in some things I might need. Ready for reconnaissance, I headed to the garage. Just as I hoped, two black and yellow oars hung on the wall. I pulled them down and looked for the dingy. No dingy. He did, however, have a kayak.

I hated kayaking. The feeling of being pinned into a little boat freaked me out. I walked down the hill outside to the marsh. Probably he left his dingy tied to the dock in the summer. A spiderweb wrapped around my face about two steps into the trees outside his house.

Bleck. I spat it out and wiped my eyes free of the silk. My head itched the rest of the way to the dock. No dingy. Stupid Adrian and his dumb kayak fetish. I hiked back up the hill to the garage and pulled the kayak off the wall. For crying out loud. I’d never had to drag one, plus an oar, down a hill. I left the second oar in the garage. By the time I got the boat in the water, I was ready to call it a night. I slid my cell into a Ziploc bag and left the rest of my supplies on the dock. Nowhere to carry a gym bag in a kayak. Dangling binoculars around my neck and checking for killers, I eased down into the seat.

I took the causeway around the marsh to the national shoreline, past the beach and out to where Adrian told me Perkins used to fish. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find, but I wanted to see the location someone paid thousands to pollute. Maybe I’d see fish floating belly-up or wildlife in need of rescue. I paddled faster toward the old Saturday night spot. I knew the place well—a clearing in the woods with room for private parties at the shoreline that parents didn’t know about. Many of my Saturday night memories started there. A lot of broken promises haunted that hunk of sand, along with a few broken hearts.

When the clouds moved away, the moon was full. Its reflection rippled over the water’s surface. I relaxed and inhaled. I snapped a picture for Claire with my phone, but it didn’t turn out. Phone pictures never did scenery justice. I slid the phone back inside the bag and almost lost my oar.

In the darkness, a large ship motored past me and slowed. The wake bobbed me around like a human buoy. I tried the binoculars to see who it was. Thanks to the moonlight, I glimpsed shady images of people moving around on deck. Finally, luck was on my side. I had only intended to scope out the area and reminisce, but if this was the boat in question, I could get some answers. I placed the Ziploc bag in my lap and paddled slowly toward the boat, careful to keep my distance and stay in the ship’s shadow.

The sleek white vessel looked closer to a yacht than a fishing boat. I imagined a private party on board with no idea that someone dumped who-knows-what in the same spot. I stretched my phone out in front of me to capture the boat name and numbers, just in case. I clicked, and my flash lit up the night.

SPLASH.

Whoa. The kayak jerked and bobbed beneath me. Someone had dropped a giant barrel right past my head into the water.

“What was that?” Men’s voices swirled above me as footfalls pounded the deck overhead. I grabbed the oar and paddled for my life into the dark, away from the boat.

“There. Look there! Who’s out there?” The voice seethed, gravelly and adamant. I kept my eyes on the moon’s reflection on the water ahead of me.

“Get the light.”

Crap. My arms burned from effort. I prayed their flashlight beam couldn’t reach me. The ocean lit up. A giant spotlight trained on the back of my head cast a shadow of me onto the water ahead. Who were these people?

Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Split.
Splat.
Split.
Splat.

Tiny splashes rained down around me. A shower of bullets hit the tail of Adrian’s stupid yellow kayak, and I capsized.

“Eep!” I squealed and crashed face-first into the ominous darkness.

Chapter Seventeen

I needed air. I had lungs like a mermaid, but I wasn’t one. Turning to my side as the surface broke over me, I inhaled and dove again, focusing my efforts on getting far away from the kayak, which they’d surely come looking for.

The shots ended, but the spotlight was going strong. Gaining on me. The light moved steady through the water. My kayak was either farther now than the boat, or it had already sunk. The fast-approaching boat scanned the shoreline. I mentally rolled my eyes. For once my horrible sense of direction came in handy. Someone drowning would head for shore. Unless they thought they were heading for shore while in fact they were headed out to sea. Like me.

Several minutes in, my limbs began to burn from effort and fear. Treading water in the dark ocean while a giant boat looked for me with a spotlight made the simple exercise excruciating. Not to mention, I had no idea how long I’d been stuck in the water, or how much longer I would be. The boat trolled back and forth, spotlight trained against the shallow waters and beach. Somewhere, at the bottom of the ocean, my cell phone sat protected in a Ziploc bag.

The boat changed direction once more and made a pass so close to me the waves sent out from it slapped me in the face. On instinct, I ducked beneath the water and swam in the opposite direction of the boat. Release stretched over my arms and legs at the opportunity to swim again. Treading was tiresome. When I broke the surface gingerly after swimming about fifty yards, the boat was gone. Before I could spend too much time wondering how soon it might return, I dove again and swam for shore. My freestyle was quick, but beneath the surface, I was a bullet.

When my fingers dusted the soft sand, I knew I was close. Barely onto the mushy sandbar near the marsh, a light flooded overhead. Profanity I hadn’t used since high school poured over my lips. All the while, my feet got busy carrying me away into the cattails and grasses ahead. Lucky for me the wind kicked up, hopefully disguising my flight through the reeds.

“Frick!” My left foot slid in muck, which felt suspiciously like manure. I slipped onto my knees. The warm squish encased my favorite old Chuck and sucked it off. I pulled my foot free to find it naked. Of all the ridiculous... The light slid over my head in the weeds. Shoe forgotten, my body flew forward in a full-out sprint until every new breath burned like knives in my sides and down my throat.

The forest at night had always looked ominous. Shadows rose and towered around me in every direction. Crickets chirped wildly and bullfrogs moaned near the marsh. My breath caught in my throat at every screech of an owl or scurry of night creature feet. The shine of tiny eyes came and went in the distance. Raccoons? Possums? Deer? Thankfully all were too small to be ponies. I’d feared the forest at night for as long as I could remember. I’d never have believed it would one day be my sanctuary.

I rested against a large tree, concentrating on my breathing and taking bodily inventory. All the necessary appendages were accounted for. Next, I tried to acclimate myself. The full moon hid behind the canopy of trees overhead, making it impossible to get a good idea of where I came out of the water, or which way was town. Gnarled, drooping branches morphed before me into silhouettes of creepy arms. I reached for my phone, only to remember its new home at the bottom of the ocean.

Back on my feet, I began hobbling forward, hoping to get eyes on the biggest landmark I could think of, the old lighthouse. The lighthouse had a well-trodden trail to the main road out of the national forest. If I could get there, I knew how to get anywhere else.

In the distance, hoofbeats pounded the forest floor. Ponies. My heart jumped into my throat. I’d survived gunshots only to die at the hand of ponies. Owls screeched above me, adding urgency to my plight. Field mice scurried over the path ahead of me. An engine roared nearby, which, combined with the growing sound of the waves, let me know I was heading toward the national seashore and the road leading there from town. As much as I wanted away from the boat, the road would have people, park rangers at least.

“Patience!”

I stopped.

Silence.

Perhaps delirium was setting in. I began moving in search of the road back to town. My shoeless foot throbbed from my missteps on twigs hidden under leaves. Asphalt would feel like clouds underfoot compared to this.

“Patience!”

I froze, eyes closed to help me concentrate. No more stampeding horse sounds. No more engine noise. Murmuring hummed from the direction of the ocean. I opened my eyes and moved with caution toward the sound. Soon, red and blue lights floated overhead. Another engine approached. The sheriff?”

“Patience!”

“Sebastian?” He echoed my name, and I, his. The exchange lasted only a few moments before a light bounced toward me.

“Patience!” A mixture of alarm and relief swirled in the word. He hit me like a brick wall, lifting me into his arms as though I weighed no more than the flashlight that he dropped and left on the ground.

“Here!” he called. “She’s here!”

His embrace, wide and warm, formed a cocoon around me. He swept me into position like a parent used to carry a sleeping child.

Exhausted, I laid my cheek against his chest and lost my mind. Sobs racked my body. Frustration and anger threatened to set my hair on fire. I was not a damsel in distress.

Usually.

“Shh,” he whispered against the crown of my head. The sound soothed me back to reality. I needed to get a grip.

How did he keep walking so easily? My sopping wet clothes and shoe had to add ten pounds to my weight. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Patience!” Mom’s voice pierced the darkness.

Blue and red lights appeared front and center as we emerged from the trees. The sheriff stood near an ambulance talking with several bystanders. A little circle of park rangers and miscellaneous strangers stood in the road near the emergency vehicles.

My mother nearly knocked me from Sebastian’s arms. She checked me from head to toe, patting me like a blind person despite the full moon’s light. “You’re alive!” She crushed me to him, wrapping her arms around us both like a sandwich, successfully soaking the both of them with my wetness.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” The thought came up short when I noticed the kayak’s pieces bobbing at the edge of the beach. My breath shuddered.

“I need to talk with the sheriff.” I squeezed her hand in reassurance and kissed her cheek. “This will be over very soon.” Shoulders back, I walked awkwardly to the sheriff’s side and kicked off my last shoe for balance.

“Something you’d like to tell me, Miss Price?” His bushy gray brows rose.

“A boat dumped black barrels into the water about two miles out.” I pointed in the direction where I’d been. “Someone’s dumping where Brady McGee used to fish. Adrian didn’t kill him. Something bigger is happening here. They shot at me and I swam to shore.”

He didn’t look as surprised as I expected, considering the revelation.

The deputy appeared at my side. His wide, eager eyes startled me. “How long ago was this? Did you see which way the boat went?”

How long ago had it been? I’d treaded water until I thought my limbs would give out. That was after they arrived, noticed and shot at me. How long had I been in the woods? Time had lost meaning when all I could think of was survival and then finding home. I swallowed emotion and turned the conversation away from the fact I didn’t know how long the night had already been.

“I took a picture of it, but then they shot at me, and my phone sank. It was in a Ziploc bag.” I didn’t know why I wanted a pat on the back for thinking ahead about the baggie. Fat lot of good it did.

The deputy questioned me about the boat while my parents, the sheriff and Sebastian watched. I’d seen the boat, photographed it, but couldn’t remember anything specific. He radioed in my description anyway. “The Coast Guard is on the lookout. You did good.” He clapped me on the shoulder.

“How did you guys get here?” I turned back to the sheriff who’d crossed his arms over his chest.

“I called.” Sebastian walked slowly in my direction. He was roughly the same height as Deputy Doofus, but infinitely broader. The men around us wore uniforms to announce their importance. Sebastian wore his announcement across his face. His square shoulders, narrowed eyes and clenching jaw made no room for error. Sebastian wasn’t to be trifled with.

“You called the sheriff? Why?”

He held his empty hands out in my direction like an offering. “When your tracker failed, I knew something happened to your phone. Since I’ve never seen you without it, and with the week you’ve been having, I went ahead and called in the cavalry.”

A low-flying helicopter complete with spotlight buzzed over us, blowing my hair into my eyes. The spotlight swept across the waters and into the night. The Coast Guard responded faster than I imagined possible. I said a silent prayer for their success and turned to Sebastian.

“My what failed?”

He stepped back.

“You put a tracker on me?” Fury sizzled under my icy wet skin. “Were you expecting me to be abducted?”

He tipped his head left then right, ear to shoulder. “I should’ve told you.”

“You think?”

“You would’ve said no.” As if this was a solid argument.

“I don’t need to be tracked. I’m not a criminal.” My voice rose. Mom came to my side. “What kind of tracker? Were you listening to me, too? Watching?” I shivered at the humiliating things he could’ve seen me do. I’d popped a stress zit the size of Wisconsin before I left Adrian’s house. Did he see that?

The sheriff snuffled. I supposed he wished I was behind bars. I turned to him. “You think I’m a criminal? Someone who needs a tracker?” A week’s worth of emotion bubbled up. I didn’t care about the tracker as much as I didn’t want to be shot at ever again. Ever. Never. Ever. Never.

“I think you’ve been at the center of every call I’ve gotten since you came home.”

That wasn’t true. I had nothing to do with Mrs. McGee’s murder, and he beat me to her house. I bit my lip to keep from mentioning it.

“Got ‘em!” The deputy strolled over, looking victorious. “Coast Guard boarded a boat fitting the description you gave. They found a spotlight and an arsenal on deck. They’re taking them in for questioning and sending divers out within forty-eight hours to see what they left down there.”

I fist-pumped the air before shoving my hands behind my back. The sheriff scowled. I suppose I had to fill out another report.

“Are we done here?” Sebastian spoke, drawing attention his way.

“Take her home.” Dad wrapped a thermal blanket over my shoulders. “We’ll come by with lunch tomorrow. Sleep in. Relax a little.” He hugged me tight then took Mom by the hand and led her to the VW.

“You heard the man.” Sebastian scooped me up again and headed for his Ranger.

“Why are you carrying me?”

“You’re barefoot.”

I didn’t complain.

At my apartment, I took a shower and patted myself on the back. Case solved. Criminals caught. Moving on. Toweling the water out of my hair, I made my way to the kitchen for some tea.

“How does it feel to be a hero?” Sebastian stood at attention, evaluating me.

“You should know. I can’t believe you came for me. Your stupid tracker stunt was kind of smart.”

He nodded and moved to the living room. The couch looked more inviting with him seated on it. Sebastian patted the cushion beside him. “I’m glad you’re safe. When I saw the kayak...” He shook his head and didn’t finish the sentence.

“How’d you know I was in a kayak?”

“Your ex.” He laughed. “He showed up right after I’d settled in. I told him what we found out and he guaranteed me you’d get involved. He hid his boat from you but left the kayak. He assured me you’d never go anywhere willingly in a kayak.”

He’d hidden his boat? Adrian Davis was the single most annoying creature ever born.

“So, you made friends with the fugitive?” I asked.

“No.” He smiled. “He’s all right. Plus, we have something in common. We both think you need a babysitter.”

I whacked him with Claire’s pretty golden pillow. “No more putting trackers on me.”

He shrugged.

No promises then.

* * *

“You weren’t kidding about tourists.” Sebastian sipped his coffee beside me on the stoop. Freud sat purring in his lap.

“Nope. This little island is a big deal every July...if you’re in the market for a wild pony.” I shivered. Yuck.

Cars lined every road in town, honking occasionally. I cringed with every honk. Honking didn’t belong on Chincoteague. Rented bicycles dotted the corners and families streamed in and out of rental homes as far as the eye could see.

Arrooga!
The bright blue and white VW bus pulled up in front of my place. The purple cart rolled up behind it. Dad waved from the driver’s seat of the polka-dotted eyesore. Mom rounded the hood of the bus and jogged lithely up the steps toward me.

“We want you to take the bus until we get the cart repainted, or until your Prius is replaced.” She extended her hand, dangling the keys from a finger. “Everyone needs transportation.” She smiled and the world grew brighter.

“Thanks.” I locked eyes with her, concentrating on her generous offering and not on the fact I’d be driving a fifty-year-old love bus.

“Are you ready for Pony Week?” she asked Sebastian.

“I have to head back to work. Looks like I’ll miss most of the fun. I would like to come by and check on Patience after work, if she’ll have me.” He looked uncertain.

“That would be lovely.” Mom clapped. “You should come by tomorrow night for dinner. Do you like to grill?”

“Anything made on a grill sounds delicious.” His smile widened.

I nodded. “Yes. Come back.” My cheeks burned. Stupid blush. I cleared my throat. “I need to run by Adrian’s and get my things. He should be home soon. I’m sure he’s heard the true culprit has been apprehended.”

My gaze traveled to the art studio below, wondering if he’d left yet for home. Sebastian followed my gaze and laughed before nodding in understanding. Adrian had literally hidden under his feet. I worried for a minute because I’d given away his hideout, but at least he wouldn’t need it anymore.