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Topsail Sundays Page 3

“I’m not sure, but I assume he did. You can ask Sam about it.”

  “Yeah. I will.” I paused to sort my thoughts. “What did people think happened at the time of the disappearance? Did they think Hillary ran away? Did they think she was kidnapped? Murdered?” I asked.

  Dottie folded her napkin into little squares, a behavior I assumed was a nervous habit. “There were several different theories floating around. Some thought she had met with foul play and had been pushed from the cliff, others thought she’d committed suicide. Both theories came into question when her body was never found. The way the currents are in that area, if she’d landed in the sea either after jumping or being pushed, eventually, she should have ended up on the beach.”

  I thought of the body that had been found on the beach that morning and wondered if something similar hadn’t happened to that unfortunate young woman. “I guess that makes sense. If she’d entered the water so close to the shoreline, the current would have brought her body into shore at some point.”

  “That’s what was being said at the time. There were some who thought that due to the lack of a body, Hillary hadn’t ended up in the water at all, but had staged things to look like she killed herself and then ran away. The theory was that she wanted everyone to think she was dead so that no one would look for her. Despite her behavior prior to going missing, which really did make it appear as if she’d either run away or killed herself, her parents felt certain she’d been kidnapped. If that is what happened, the kidnapper didn’t leave behind any clues to support this theory.”

  “What do you think happened?” I asked.

  She frowned. “I’m not sure. Based on her rebellious behavior just before her disappearance, I would say she might have either run away or killed herself, but I certainly have no way to say that for certain. She lived on the north shore and stopped for gas north of where she’d been with her friends at the party, which seemed to indicate that she at least started out heading for home. I have no suggestion for how she ended up all the way south. That part never did seem quite right.”

  “And there weren’t any prints on her car?”

  “Not that I know of. That’s something you can ask Sam about as well. I’m sure if there were any prints or fibers, they would have been noted in the police report.”

  I supposed that was true. “What about a girl named Veronica Smith? She was a local who was reported as a runaway in 2015. Did you know her or anything about her?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. The name is not familiar. That was just five years ago. My Harold was sick by then. I spent most of my time at home, caring for him, and didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to what was going on in the rest of the world.”

  That made sense. After Kayla’s accident, I spent all my time in the hospital. The world could have been invaded by aliens, and I wouldn’t have known.

  Dottie and I sat over our lunch awhile longer. She’d lived on the island for a long time and had a good recollection of what had been going on locally during each of the time periods Sam was researching. She had never heard of anyone named Moon, but she did remember that Hillary was interested in art. Based on the information Sam had been able to dig up so far, it really did seem that an interest in art might be a link between all the girls.

  After promising to get together with her again before I left the island, I said my goodbyes to Dottie and headed toward the condo Carrie had purchased to see if she and Nora were there. If not, I’d just drive back to the house and maybe take a walk before my date with Ryder. If they were around and needed my help, I figured that would be a good way to occupy my time until it was time to get ready for my evening, which I had to admit I was still very nervous about.

  As luck would have it, Carrie and Nora had just arrived at the condo with two cars full of boxes that needed to be carried inside.

  “Perfect timing,” Carrie said, handing me a large box that was bulky but not all that heavy. “How was your lunch with Dottie?”

  “Very nice.” I set the box just inside the front door of the condo, then returned to Nora’s SUV for the next box, which turned out to be twice as heavy as the first. “It looks like you made good progress this morning,” I said, deciding to wait to mention the body until I had a chance to talk to Sam.

  “We’re moving right along,” Nora said, “although eventually, Carrie is going to need to hire movers. We can only do so much with her Mercedes and my X5.”

  “I realize that most of the stuff that still needs to be moved will have to be dealt with by the professionals, but it gives me a sense of accomplishment to do these small transfers in the meantime,” Carrie said. “I almost have the kitchen set up. Once that’s done, I’ll start on my bedroom. I suppose I’ll have to deal with Jessica’s room at some point, but I’m leaving it until last. I keep hoping she’ll change her mind and come home and deal with it herself.”

  “Have you talked to her in the last couple of days?” I asked.

  “No.” Carrie sighed. “She made it clear that she is not speaking to me and asked me to respect that. I guess I will, for now. I’m hoping once she has a chance to really think about things, she’ll come around and realize that this move really is a good thing for both of us.”

  “I’m sure she will,” I offered, even though I wasn’t convinced of that at all.

  After both cars were emptied, the three of us took a break out on the deck overlooking the sea. We sipped cola and chatted about life in general. Eventually, Nora asked about Cherry, and whether or not I’d spoken to Sam since my conversation with him last night.

  “I did speak to him,” I said. “And he is working on it. It’s going to be difficult to track her down because we don’t have a last name or even a verified first name. We also aren’t certain which state she lived in while she was in foster care. He is starting with California. If she was in the system here, he’s hoping he can use the small pieces of information he already has to figure out which foster care child might have grown up to become Cherry the surfer. I guess he’ll call if he finds anything.”

  “I called Denver this morning,” Nora said. “I briefly explained what was going on and asked if he had a photo of Cherry. He said he was sure he did, although he didn’t know offhand where it might have ended up. He was going to look for it. If I can give Sam a photo, it might help him to track her down.”

  I smiled. “I think a photo would help a lot. That was good thinking on your part to ask Denver.”

  “He also mentioned that Cherry was hanging out with an older guy during the surfing competition. Denver admitted that he was jealous and complained about the amount of attention she was showing to the guy, but Cherry assured him there was nothing going on between them.”

  “Did he know why she was hanging around with the guy if there was nothing between them?” I asked.

  “According to Denver, the guy was somehow connected to surfing and was in a position to help her get a foothold with a sponsor. Cherry was very much interested in becoming established in the pro circuit, and even Denver admitted that finding a sponsor seemed to be the most important thing in her life, so he wasn’t overly surprised when she told Denver he was just going to have to deal with her hanging out with the guy whether he liked it or not.”

  “Did Denver remember the guy’s name?” I asked.

  “He couldn’t remember offhand, but he was going to think about it. He said the guy wasn’t a surfer, but it did seem as if he was connected to the contest in some way. He thought maybe he worked for the event coordinator, or the sponsor, or even one of the sporting goods vendors who’d set up booths on the beach. I asked if he could describe this man, but all Denver said was that he was probably around thirty-five and ‘reeked of money.’ When I prompted him further, he added that he was blond, with a preppy look about him that irritated Denver to no end.”

  “A preppy look?” I asked.

  “Expensive haircut, expensive clothes that were obviously out of place on the beach. Denver said he looked like the sort who’d come from money and probably had been educated in private schools. He even said the guy had a huge diamond ring on the pinky finger of his left hand. I guess it caught the light when the sun hit it, and Denver found the whole thing garish.”

  “It sounds like he actually did remember a lot,” I pointed out. “Was he sure he didn’t remember a name?”

  “He said he didn’t. He told me that he felt like a total loser next to the guy, and when Cherry didn’t show up for their picnic, he pretty much assumed she’d stood him up in favor of going out with this much older man who seemed to have more than just a casual interest in her.”

  I paused to let this new information roll around in my mind. “It seems that knowing who this guy is might be important. Maybe if Denver doesn’t follow up with you, you can give him another call. A photo of Cherry would be really helpful, and a name for the guy she was hanging around with could be a legitimate lead as well, so maybe it will come to him with time.”

  “I know you think Cherry might have been the victim of this serial kidnapper in 2010,” Carrie said, “but I thought part of the profile was that the missing girls had been arguing with their parents at the time they went missing. Cherry didn’t have parents to argue with.”

  “That’s true, and I did think of that,” I acknowledged. “And maybe that means she’s not the missing link. But the rest of the profile seems to fit pretty well, so at this point, I think following this lead is the right thing to do.”

  “I’m sure Denver will help in any way he can,” Nora said. “He’s a good boy. He’s always happy to pitch in.”

  “I remember that about him,” I said. “How is he doing anyway? I can’t believe he’s an attorney.”

  “He’s doing very well,” Nora said proudly. “The firm he works for in San Francisco is just the sort of place he needs to be to really establish himself. I have high expectations for my firstborn. He’s focused and ambitious. I’m certain he is going to do wonderful things with his life.”

  “I remember Denver as really smart,” I said. “I ran into him in San Francisco before he moved there. I think he was still an intern. Kayla and I were shopping, so we stopped and had a drink with him. Kayla asked about his love life—that was the sort of thing she tended to do—and he mentioned that he had met a woman, and it seemed as if it could go the distance. I never heard that he’d gotten married, so I assume the relationship didn’t work out?”

  “It didn’t, and I have to say the poor boy was crushed again,” Nora answered. “He eventually moved on, though, and he’s currently dating a very nice woman who works as a public defender. I guess I would say they are semiserious. As far as I know, there hasn’t been any talk of marriage, but they have been together for over a year. They seem to get along well, although they are both very driven. I have a feeling, however, that if at some point, the choice between job advancement and the relationship comes up, both would most likely choose advancement in their career path.”

  I was about to make a comment about how important it was that both halves of a couple were on the same page in the relationship when my phone buzzed to let me know I had a text. It was from Ryder, who said that he had an emergency surgery that looked as if it was going to be tricky, so he wasn’t certain when he might be done for the day. He asked if we could postpone our dinner until the next night. I texted him back to let him know that was fine. I wished him luck and hoped his patient would be okay.

  “It looks like I’m available for dinner after all,” I said to Carrie and Nora. “That was Ryder. He has an emergency surgery that he thinks will run long, so we’re rescheduling our dinner.”

  “We should all go out tonight,” Carrie said. “Celebrate the three of us being together after all these years.”

  “I’m game,” Nora said. “Is that Mexican restaurant that used to be up on the bluff still there?”

  “It is,” Carrie confirmed. “They’ve remodeled since you were last here. They redesigned the patio, so there are tables along the bluff, and they added outdoor heaters, not that we’ll need them this evening. The pots of flowers, background music, and colorful décor give the place an authentic feel it didn’t quite pull off before. It’s really very nice. I’ll call to make a reservation. It is hard to get tables on the railing overlooking the sea unless you call ahead. How does eight o’clock sound?”

  Nora and I both agreed that eight o’clock would work out perfectly because the heat of the day would have dissipated somewhat by that point and there wasn’t much shade up on the bluff other than the restaurant’s umbrellas, which wouldn’t offer much protection once the sun came around and began its descent into the sea.

  Chapter 3

  Dinner the previous evening was really fun. Carrie and Nora had both been in a good mood, thanks mostly, I assumed, to abundant margaritas. Our conversation had been lighthearted and, at times, almost silly, and there wasn’t a single mention of marriages that had ended, marriages in trouble, or sisters who died. We talked about Peggy, but it was more of a fun walk down memory lane than a depressing conversation. We even seemed to be able to avoid the subject of children—theirs, not mine—and while tears were shed as we reconnected, they were born of laughter, not tragedy.

  I was sorry to have missed my dinner with Ryder, but I thought the dinner I shared with my friends was something we all needed. It had been a tough year for all of us, and I think we benefited from being able to cut loose a bit and forget about everything other than the fond, and often times hilarious, memories we shared.

  Ryder had left me a text early this morning before I even checked my phone, letting me know that his patient was still in critical condition following the surgery, so he’d stayed in town to keep an eye on him. He would have to miss our morning run but hoped the dog would stabilize so that he was able to head home to the boathouse for this evening’s dinner. He promised to text me later with an update. I was glad the dog had pulled through the surgery and hoped he’d make a full recovery. I’d miss running with Ryder but was happy he took his commitment to his patients so seriously. It was a gorgeous morning, so I decided to head out for a solitary run. It might do me good to have some quiet time to spend with my thoughts.

  As of this morning, I still hadn’t connected with Sam about the body on the beach. I’d texted him yesterday to ask if he had an update, and he’d gotten back to me to say that he had surprising news, but he wanted to wait to share it with me when we could speak in person. I’d already arranged to have lunch out with Carrie and Nora, so we planned to meet in his office at ten o’clock this morning. I couldn’t imagine what he meant by surprising news. Was the surprise the identity of the victim? The cause of death? The circumstances surrounding the victim being on the beach in the first place? I couldn’t imagine.

  Given the fact that any information about the body on the beach couldn’t and wouldn’t be answered until I saw Sam, I forced myself to focus on the rhythm of my footsteps hitting the wet sand as I settled into a steady pace that had my heart racing but left my mind clear.

  Left, right, left, right, I thought to myself as I upped the tempo just a bit. Ryder and I usually ran at a more leisurely pace, but this morning, I felt the need to put some distance between myself and the grief I’d been struggling to keep at bay. On a positive note, I’d called Quinn the night before to inquire about her new estimated time of arrival. She’d just landed in New York, but wasn’t certain she’d make it to the island by tomorrow, as she’d hoped, but she assured me that she’d be here by Friday, or Saturday at the latest. It would be good to see her and good to have her in the mix. When it had been just Carrie and me, the dynamic had been a bit more balanced, but now that Nora had arrived with life issues similar in nature to the ones Carrie was dealing with, it seemed most of our group conversations centered on marriages, children, and growing pains related to each. Quinn was single, as was I, so I hoped when the four of us were together, the subject matter of our discussions would open up a bit.

  My legs were shaking, and sweat had drenched my body by the time I returned from my run, so instead of joining Carrie and Nora for our morning coffee, as I often did, I went straight upstairs to shower. After cooling down, washing my body and hair, and dressing in shorts and a cool summer top, I headed back downstairs, poured my own mug of coffee, and joined them on the deck.

  “How was your run?” Carrie asked.

  “It was good. Ryder is still in town with his patient, so I ran solo today. It is a gorgeous morning, and I actually kind of liked being alone with my thoughts.”

  Carrie laughed. “While I, on the other hand, have been doing everything in my power to avoid my thoughts.”

  Nora reached over and hugged her. “We’re here for you, sweetie. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  Carrie smiled. “I know. And we’re here for you as well.” She glanced at me. “And you. Together, we’ll weather this trying time in all our lives in the same way we weathered the tricky teenage years, by leaning on one another.”

  Carrie’s speech struck me as sort of syrupy, but she wasn’t wrong. Having friends to get you through the tough times made all the difference as far as I was concerned.

  “I spoke to Quinn last night,” I informed Carrie and Nora. “She is finally on US soil and said that she planned to be here on Friday or Saturday.”

  “I’m glad to hear that she made it back to the States,” Carrie said. “How did she sound?”

  “Tired,” I admitted. “Actually, she sounded more than tired. She sounded exhausted.”

  “I hope everything is okay,” Carrie said. “The last couple of times I’ve spoken to her, I’ve had the feeling that something was up. She hasn’t seemed like her normal, energetic self.”

  “I had the same thought when we spoke to her the other day,” I said. “She was yelling at someone in the background. It sounded like she was hanging on by her last nerve.”

  “Maybe she just needs a vacation,” Nora said. “That girl works harder than anyone I know. And all that traveling must be exhausting in and of itself.”