Topsail Sundays Read online

  The town—or village, as the locals called it—had changed quite a bit since I’d summered here as a teen. During the years I’d lived here with my family, the island had catered to a seasonal population of mostly wealthy families from San Francisco and Los Angeles who came here every summer to escape the heat and the crowds. Since then, the population of the island had changed, and the seasonal nature of the residents had given way to a lot more full-time residents.

  Sam was waiting for me in his office when I arrived. He ran a hand through his longish blond hair as he indicated that I should have a seat across the desk from him. Once I was settled, he offered me coffee, which I accepted. I made a comment about the weather, and he replied before launching into a discussion relating to the girl known only as Cherry, who we suspected might have been the missing girl who fit the pattern in 2010.

  “So far, I’ve been unable to find out much of anything about this girl,” Sam said. “I figured that if she entered the Perfect Tan Surfing Competition, she would have to have used her full name when she registered. I’m sure she would have had to show ID, sign a waiver, that sort of thing. The problem is, the event sponsor changed in 2013, and I am having a hard time getting hold of any records from before that date.”

  “Changed?” I asked. “When I entered the contest, it was sponsored by Optimal Wave, a surfing and sporting goods store based in San Francisco. I remember that in addition to a medal and some prize money, I was awarded a substantial gift certificate.”

  “Optimal Wave continued to sponsor the competition until 2013. It seems they had some financial difficulties and closed a bunch of their stores. Then they decided to rebrand as well, and one of the casualties was the Perfect Tan Surfing Competition. It looked as if the competition would be canceled altogether, which would have been a real loss for the island—the event brings in tourists and revenue—but Gavin Montgomery stepped in at the last minute and offered to take over as sponsor. He’s been sponsoring the event ever since.”

  Gavin Montgomery was a billionaire who lived on a private island about twenty miles northwest of Shipwreck Island. The man was a total recluse, and no one I knew had ever admitted to having met him.

  “Gavin Montgomery, the billionaire recluse, provided the money to save a local surfing competition? Why? The guy is rumored to be a total shut-in who never leaves that island of his.”

  “That’s true. I suspect that it was Gavin’s son, Wilson, who was behind the sponsorship. Unlike his extremely reclusive father, Wilson does visit Shipwreck Island from time to time, where he seems to enjoy spending time with the ladies, if you know what I mean.”

  I actually wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he meant, but I had a pretty good idea. “So Wilson lives on the private island with his father?”

  “Yes. He’s lived on that island his whole life. I can’t say I know this for a fact, but I imagine it must have been lonely growing up in such an isolated environment, with just your father and his staff for company. I guess I can see why Wilson might want to use part of his inheritance to venture out and become involved with life outside the boundaries of the island.”

  “What about his mother?”

  “I understand she died when Wilson was just a baby,” Sam informed me.

  “Poor kid. I imagine it would be lonely growing up without a mother or siblings. And it doesn’t sound as if he had friends either. How old is he now?”

  “I imagine he must be in his forties. Late forties, if I had to guess, but I can’t say for certain. The guy is an odd fellow. As I’ve already indicated, he comes to Shipwreck Island from time to time to satisfy his need for female companionship, but after he’s been here a week or so, he leaves again, and we won’t see him for weeks, or even months.”

  While somewhat interesting, I didn’t suppose Wilson’s need for female companionship was really the topic of this conversation. “So, given the fact that the sponsorship of the event changed hands seven years ago, the entry paperwork that would have been generated in 1995 probably isn’t readily available.”

  Sam nodded. “Yes, that was my point. I spoke to the event organizer, a man named Todd Hill, and was told that any records pertaining to the event from prior to 2013 remained with Optimal Wave. I tried to speak to someone from there, but it doesn’t seem to exist any longer. When the company reorganized, they changed their name to Outlander Sports. If the old files even still exist, which at this point seems unlikely, no one from Outlander Sports seems to know where they might be.”

  “And I guess trying to track down a woman whose name you don’t know is a pointless task. What about records through the foster care folks?”

  Sam nodded. “Maybe. If Cherry was in the foster care system in California and was legally emancipated in 2010, we might be able to use the little bit of data we have to figure out who she is. If, however, she was in the foster care system in some other state, I’m afraid trying to find this girl will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  “I know it’s a long shot, but I know you’ll look and see what you can find. But what do you think about there being a link between the missing girls and the surfing competition?”

  He twisted his lips. “I’m not sure. We know that Cherry entered the competition in 2010, but Peggy was never much of a surfer, and she didn’t enter the contest when you did. I guess I can look for a link between the contest and the other missing girls, but I’m not holding out a lot of hope that I’ll find one.”

  I was about to suggest that we try to get a list of all the entrants for the past twenty-five years when Sam’s phone buzzed. He picked it up and gave his name. I watched as his casual expression melted into a frown.

  “What is it?” I asked after he hung up.

  “A group of surfers found a body on the beach north of the marina.”

  “Any idea who this body might belong to?”

  “I don’t have a name yet. What I do know is that she’s a blond-haired female in her early twenties.” He stood up, strapping on his gun. “I need to go. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone until I have a chance to check it out.”

  “Sure, no problem. I won’t say a thing until I hear from you.”

  “I appreciate that. I’ll call you later.”

  Chapter 2

  Sam left, and I headed toward town, where I’d planned to meet Dottie for lunch. When I arrived at Roxie’s Café, she was waiting for me at a table near the window. It had been years since I’d visited this café, which seemed to have stayed much the same through three owners and more than twice as many decades. I remember Carrie telling me that Roxie Owens had opened the café near the center of town in the nineteen fifties when the island was only accessible by private boat, and the population was just a fraction of what it was today. She worked the café open to close six days a week, but Sundays, she’d tell anyone who asked, was for church and family. The other six days of the week, she could be found in the kitchen, cooking up all sorts of wonderful things for breakfast and lunch.

  Roxie sold the café to a woman named Lorraine Wall in the late nineteen eighties. She hadn’t wanted to give up the café she loved even then, but her health prevented her from being on her feet for long periods of time. Lorraine had worked for Roxie for a number of years, and part of the deal they’d come to was that Lorraine would keep the name, the menu, and the décor just the same. Lorraine ran the place until she passed away in 2002. Her great-niece, Gwendolyn Kensington, inherited the café, and rather than selling it, as many thought she would, she’d moved to the island and had been running the place ever since.

  “What can I get you?” the waitress, who was wearing a name tag indicating that her name was Kate, asked.

  “I’ll have the lobster roll and a cup of hot tea with lemon,” Dottie said.

  The waitress looked at me.

  “I think I’ll go with the shrimp and avocado salad and an iced tea.”

  The woman jotted down our order. “It’ll be right up.” With that
, she walked away.

  “I see that the café is still decorated in tones of pink, green, and white,” I said after our beverages were delivered.

  “The color scheme was developed by Roxie, who insisted that Lorraine not change a thing. After Lorraine passed and Gwen took over, she decided to leave things just as they are. I doubt the tourists who’ve stopped in for a bite over the years have any idea that the ownership of the café has changed. So, tell me about your visit so far. How are Carrie, Nora, and Quinn all doing?”

  “Quinn isn’t here yet,” I started off. “She’s pushed back her arrival date three times so far, but when last I spoke to her, she indicated that she should be here this week, on Thursday. I guess we’ll see.”

  “Well, that’s a shame. I hope everything is okay.”

  I took a sip of my tea. “Everything is fine. At least I think it is. She didn’t say otherwise. She’s just been busy with work, and it seems she keeps getting pulled into last-minute assignments.”

  “Quinn was the sort to have something to do or somewhere to be. The two of you were a lot alike when you were children, while the other four were more similar to one another in terms of personality.”

  “I guess it is true that Quinn and I were the most ambitious and least likely to settle,” I agreed.

  “And Nora? Has she arrived?” Dottie wondered.

  I nodded. “Just yesterday. She was hung up helping her daughter, Shelby, with her college admission paperwork, or she would have been here sooner, but she is here now and seems to be doing well.” As I hadn’t with Ryder, I didn’t feel it was my place to bring up Nora’s marital problems with Dottie.

  “I can’t believe Shelby is going off to college. The last time I saw her, she was just a wee little thing. Time does fly.” She sighed. “Faster, I’m afraid, than I ever realized.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. Before her accident, Kayla and I were having a fairly involved discussion about the brevity of life. One of her neighbors was having a hard time after the death of her daughter, from complications resulting from a stroke. The daughter was in her fifties then, so not a babe by any means, but as we discussed the grieving woman, who was in her early eighties, Kayla made a comment about how it felt like it was just yesterday she was bringing her babies home from the hospital and then, in the blink of an eye, they were all grown up. I think this woman losing her child really bothered her, despite the fact that the ‘child’ was well into middle age. Kayla told me that she remembered sitting up late nursing her daughters through colic and teething, and then the next thing she knew, they were out of the house and off to college.”

  “I never had children myself, but I’m sure that there is a tendency to remember those special moments with your child, no matter their current age.”

  I nodded. “That was my takeaway from the conversation as well. Looking back, I think the whole empty nest thing was a lot harder on Kayla than I realized. I didn’t really get it at the time, but after speaking to both Carrie and Nora about their own empty next struggles, I’m sort of beginning to get it now.”

  “How is Carrie doing with everything?” Dottie asked. “As I told you when we met on the ferry, the last time I saw her, she looked downright emaciated.”

  I took another sip of my tea before answering. “She has lost weight, there is no arguing that, but I don’t think her new weight is unhealthy. In fact, she is probably at a healthier weight now than she was before Carl left. But I guess when you aren’t used to Carrie being so thin, the change might be alarming.”

  “I do feel bad for that poor thing.”

  “Me too.” I took another sip of my tea. “But she seems to be working on moving on. She sold her house not long ago and bought a condo.”

  Dottie’s eyes grew wide. “She did? When did that happen?”

  “Just since I’ve been here. The condo is empty and ready to occupy right away, so Carrie has been working on packing up the house and moving everything. I’ve been helping her, but Nora is doing that today.”

  “So where is this condo?”

  “Up on the north shore. It’s close to Ryder’s place. In fact, he was the one who found it for her.”

  Dottie smiled. Her light blue eyes lit up as she leaned forward slightly and looked me in the eye. “Well, good for her. I’m happy to see that she is taking control of her life and moving on. Deep down, I knew I didn’t need to worry about that girl, but I will admit to having a few unsure moments. Is her place on the beach?”

  I nodded. “Right on the water. It’s a really nice unit on the end. Her deck and yard area is twice as large as some of the others, and there is an unobstructed view of the water from her front window. And she has plenty of room, with three bedrooms and four baths. I think it’s going to work out for her.”

  Our conversation paused when our food was delivered. Once we had our meals before us, we ate in silence for a few minutes before we got back to our chat.

  “When we spoke on the ferry, you mentioned that the four of you planned to have a small ceremony to remember Peggy on the twenty-fifth anniversary of her disappearance,” Dottie jumped in. “I guess you haven’t done that yet because Quinn isn’t here yet.”

  “No. Not yet.” I set down my fork. “The actual anniversary of Peggy’s disappearance has come and gone, but I’m sure once we’re all here, we’ll spend some time honoring her memory.”

  “So what have you been doing since you’ve been on the island? Other than helping Carrie pack, of course.”

  “I’ve been taking some time for myself, and I’ve been helping Sam poke around in Peggy’s missing persons case.”

  She raised a brow. “You have? Poking around, how exactly?”

  “Mostly, I’ve just been talking to Sam about the events surrounding Peggy’s disappearance and comparing them to the events surrounding other girls who have gone missing over the years. You knew Peggy to the extent that you were friends with my mother and spent a lot of time at our house, as did Peggy and the others, but I wonder if you knew a girl named Gina Baldwin. She was a summer-only resident who would have been about five years younger than Peggy and me.”

  Dottie slowly shook her head. “No. The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “How about a girl named Hillary Denton? She lived here year-round and would have been sixteen in 2005.”

  “I did know Hillary.” She pursed her lips, narrowing her brows as she set her fork to the side. “Where exactly are you going with this?”

  “Sam discovered other missing girls who either ran away and were never seen again or were reported as missing by their families. All were sixteen when they disappeared.”

  “And Hillary is one of the missing girls you think might be linked to Peggy’s disappearance?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a theory. We don’t have proof of any sort at this point. How exactly did you know Hillary?”

  “Her family lived here on the island for four or five years. Her father worked construction, and her mother worked at the library. I can’t say I knew Hillary or her family well, but I do like to read, so I stop at the library at least once a week, and during the time Hillary’s mother worked there, I’d sometimes stop to chat with her. Hillary was in high school then and would oftentimes come to the library when school let out. She’d do her homework there until her mother got off, and they’d drive home together.”

  “So Hillary and her mother got along?”

  Dottie nodded. “They did. Though I guess there was some tension there at the end.” She paused. “Actually, the behavior problems might have started even earlier than I remember. It’s not like Hillary and her mother would argue right there in the library.”

  “But you do remember tension between the two?” I prodded.

  She paused and then said, “It’s not so much that I witnessed tension, but I do remember hearing that Hillary had been having behavior problems for a while. I guess she’d gotten in with a bad crowd, and her mother was sure she was sneaking out at night. Now t
hat I really stop to think about it, I think the reason Hillary came to the library to do her homework rather than taking the bus home was because she was failing some of her classes and her mother wanted to keep an eye on her.”

  “Do you remember what happened when she went missing?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I don’t have all the details, but I do know that she’d met some friends and they’d gone to a party. Several of the other guests told the sheriff that she left the party alone, saying to everyone that she wasn’t feeling well and was going home. She was driving her own car, and her parents were able to verify that she stopped for gas along the way, and then headed toward the north shore, where the family lived. No one knows what happened after that, but she never showed up at home. There was a search for the car, which they eventually found parked at Lover’s Point.”

  I knew Lover’s Point was a cliff that overlooked the ocean on the very south shore of the island, the absolute opposite direction she would have been going to get home.

  “So how did she end up at Lover’s Point if she was heading home?” I asked.

  “No one knows for certain, although one of her friends told Sheriff Renshaw that she had been on the phone with someone earlier in the evening, and there was talk between Hillary and whoever about meeting up at some point. Renshaw pulled her cell records, but the only calls that were logged the entire evening were between Hillary and a friend she often surfed with.

  “But the friend was never a suspect?” I asked.

  “He wasn’t. He was at home on the night Hillary went missing, as were his parents, siblings, and a couple of his parents’ friends, so he had a firm alibi.”

  “Do you know if Renshaw asked this friend if he spoke to Hillary about meeting up?”