Footprints in the Sand (14 page)
Read Footprints in the Sand Online
Authors: Mary Jane Clark
I
t was a good night to knock off early. Business had been slow, and customers had been stingy with their tips. Jo-Jo collected the singles from her last table and wiped it down.
“Thanks for covering for me, Lisa. I owe you one,” said Jo-Jo as she took off her apron. She glanced at her watch. She had plenty of time to get to Siesta Key. The meeting shouldn’t take long. He’d hand over the cash, and she’d hand over the receipt. That’s all there was to it.
Afterward she’d be able to go right home. It would be nice to relieve her sister early. Jo-Jo didn’t know what she would do without a sibling who was willing to baby-sit for three kids and refused to take any money for it. But after tonight Jo-Jo could do something really special for her sister. Maybe get her a really big gift certificate to Dillard’s or Macy’s and take her out to dinner with the kids a couple of times.
As she walked out the back door and into the small employee parking lot, Jo-Jo was anxious but also excited. Fifty thousand dollars. What she’d be able to do with that! Buy new sneakers for all three kids, stock the kitchen shelves and the refrigerator, pay off her maxed-out credit cards, visit the used-car lot and look for another car. It wouldn’t be new, but it would better than the old clunker she was driving around in now. The beat-up Impala wasn’t even worth locking up. Nobody in his right mind would want to steal it.
The car door creaked when she opened it. Jo-Jo got inside and placed her purse on the seat. As she put the key in the ignition, she detected movement from behind. Sensing danger, she felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through her. She started to turn just as the garrote was flipped over her head, wrapped around her neck, and pulled tight.
February 16 . . .
Two Days Until the Wedding
I
t was after midnight when her cell phone rang. Piper checked the ID and saw that it was Jack. She lowered the volume on the television.
“Hey, you,” she answered with pleasure as she pulled the covered elastic from her ponytail and shook out her hair. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too, Pipe,” said Jack. “I hope I’m not calling too late. I had surveillance tonight.”
“Uh-uh. I’m wide awake. I was watching a
Criminal Minds
rerun.” She deliberately didn’t mention the throbbing gash on her calf or the trip to the doctor’s office with Brad O’Hara.
“Nice viewing right before you go to sleep, huh?”
“I’ve seen this one before,” said Piper, stretching out on the bed. “It’s my fave, the one where the deranged woman kidnaps the girls and dresses them up as dolls. Fortunately, my man Reid shows up before she really snaps.”
“Well, you know those FBI guys,” said Jack. “They always get their man. Or woman, as the case may be.”
“Not always,” Piper teased him.
“Our track record is pretty good,” said Jack. “Almost as good as yours.”
“You’re hilarious,” said Piper, “but now that we’re on the subject of law enforcement, were you able to find out anything new about what’s going on down here?”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “As far as the old lady is concerned, some yellow paint was scraped off her convertible, so they’re canvassing body shops and gas stations to see if anybody brings in a car with yellow paint and dents. But without a description of the driver, vehicle, or tags, they don’t have much to go on at this point. How’s she doing, by the way?”
“The same, at least as of a few hours ago,” said Piper. “Her amnesia hasn’t lifted.”
“That’s too bad,” said Jack. “But the news is better on the murder-case front.”
“Really? What?” Piper sat up in excitement.
“The sheriff’s department has a kid they think is good for it,” said Jack. “And get this, he’s Amish.”
J
ust after daylight broke, Brad trudged through the cool sand to the spot where he’d had his best luck. Tiny fish liked to swim among the rocks that jutted out into the Gulf near the place on the beach where the sea turtles nested. Bigger fish came to eat the smaller fish.
Putting his gear down near the water’s edge, Brad glanced over his shoulder. It freaked him out that Shelley’s body had been found buried less than a hundred yards away. He was pretty sure the police must be at least looking at him for the murder.
Let them.
Brad rifled through his tackle box until he found his favorite lure. The gold spoon had snagged many a redfish for him. He knew that conservationists encouraged releasing redfish after they were caught.
Screw that.
Any of the suckers he snagged this morning were going to end up on his grill.
He attached the lure to the end of his fishing line and cast it into the surf. As he settled in to wait, Brad scanned the cloudless sky. He caught sight of an osprey hovering, then plunging feetfirst into the water. When the raptor rose again, its talons clutched a decent-size fish. The bird flew straight to the top of a giant Australian pine onshore, where it proceeded to devour its still-wriggling catch.
Brad admired the osprey. It took care of business, quickly and efficiently, without second-guessing. Brad liked to think he had those same qualities.
His brawn and take-no-prisoners attitude had ensured that nobody messed with him while he’d served his time. He had held his own with some pretty mean mothers—hardened criminals who actually scared the crap out of him. But Brad had made it a point never to let on he was intimidated. Those guys could smell fear. And when they perceived weakness, they pounced.
He’d seen one of those guys when he took Piper to the doctor’s office yesterday. Both of them knew better than to acknowledge the other. Neither wanted anyone to know of their connection.
Brad felt a tug on the line. He pulled back, giving the fish the opportunity to go deeper into the hook. But it didn’t work. The slack told him the fish had gotten free.
As he reeled in the line, Brad stared at the tattoo on his bare forearm. The crying woman, meant to represent Shelley and the tears she would shed for her betrayal of him, could take on another significance now that she was dead.
Piper was very much alive. Brad hoped for her sake that
she
never crossed him.
T
wo heavyset women lifted the aluminum folding chairs from the back of their dusty red pickup truck. They carried the chairs, along with their poles, nets, and Styrofoam coolers, down the boat ramp that led to Phillippi Creek. When they reached the creek, the women traveled just a few yards along the water’s edge. They positioned their chairs in their usual spot, a place where the creek curved. The location afforded them a good view of any approaching alligators.
“Here we are, Gram,” said the younger of the two as she attached an umbrella to one of the folding chairs. “What do you think we’re goin’ to catch today?”
“Don’t know,” said the grandmother, “but I sure hope we do better than yesterday. I’m up to here with mullet.”
“I hope we get us some bluegill. We can pan-fry them tonight with some cornbread. Mmm-mmm. I can taste it now.”
“Well then, girl, put the corn on your hook and get it into that water.”
The younger woman did as she was told while the older woman opened one of the coolers. She took out the package of chicken legs she’d gotten from the trash container behind the grocery store. A bit too old for people, but still fine for what she wanted to catch.
“Come on, you little blue devils,” she urged as she buried the hook into the chicken leg and cast it out a few feet into the creek. She sat in her chair, leaning forward to peer into the calm, clear water so she could keep the chicken in her sight. Only a few minutes passed before she saw what she wanted to see. A big blue crab was attaching itself to the drumstick.
“Gotcha!” hissed the old lady with satisfaction as she stood up and grabbed one of the handheld nets. Slowly and carefully she pulled in the fishing line. When the crustacean was in reach, she slipped the net beneath it and scooped up her prize.
“That sure is a big one,” the younger woman said as she watched the crab struggling in the net. But even as she admired the catch, her eyes caught sight of something moving in the distance behind it. Something swaying gently in the morning breeze. When she realized what she was seeing, she began to scream.
Behind her grandmother, up the creek, a body was hanging from an old oak tree.
A
s soon as the breakfast service was over, Isaac escorted Piper and her mother to the inn’s kitchen. He gave them a short tour of the appliances and equipment, indicating the counter space that had been cleared for their use.
“Our kitchen is your kitchen,” he said. “If there’s anything else you need, our chef will help you. And of course you can call me,” he said. He wrote his cell number on a piece of paper and left.
Terri used the flat beater attachment of the mixer to blend the room-temperature butter and sugar. While she spent the time necessary to incorporate the air pockets that made the mixture light and creamy, Piper took the various-size baking pans and traced their outlines on parchment paper. After cutting out the circles, Piper coated the entire inner surface of each pan with Baker’s Joy and lined the bottoms with the parchment rounds. Then she sprayed the parchment as well.
“Okay. Now what?” asked Piper. “Should I measure out the dry ingredients?”
Terri nodded. “That’s a good idea, honey. You know I can’t really make out those markings on the sides of the measuring cups anymore. I should have brought the ones I use at our place, the ones that let me
feel
the measurements.”
Piper opened the packages of flour and dumped the contents into a large bowl. She took a whisk and stirred to aerate it. Knowing that baking was a precise art, she dipped her cup into the flour, took out a heaping amount, and used the dull edge of a knife to scrape off the excess, leaving the flour level with the rim of the cup. She measured the baking powder and the baking soda with spoons.
Meantime Terri took the key limes and rubbed them up and down on the Microplane. She sprinkled the zest into the creamed butter and sugar, added some vanilla extract, and stirred.
“This already smells like a celebration,” said Piper.
Next Terri counted out the eggs, expertly cracking them with one hand and a flick of her wrist. She mixed them into the batter one at a time, so each could be absorbed.
Piper consulted her mother’s recipe card for the rest of the ingredients. When she was sure that everything had been accounted for, she divided the dry ingredients into separate bowls and began by adding wet ingredients to the first portion. She stopped at intervals so Terri could mix well before the next batches were added.
“We don’t want to overmix or the cake will be tough,” said Terri. “The batter should just be smooth.”
Wanting the cake layers to be exactly the same height, Piper filled each by eye as evenly as possible. Terri took the padded aluminum strips they had brought with them from New Jersey, soaked them in water, lightly wrung them out, and wrapped them around each pan. The strips would keep the outside edges of the cake from baking too quickly and would allow the layers to rise more uniformly.
Piper felt the pain in her leg as she walked over to the industrial-size oven and slid in the cake pans.
“Good. That part’s done,” she said, putting the back of her hand against her forehead and sighing. “Tomorrow we’ll do the assembly and decorating. Kathy and Dan may have had it rough leading up to their wedding, but their finale is going to be perfect.”
A
fter Isaac left Piper and her mother in the kitchen, he went out to the patio. He was still uncomfortable around Piper, knowing she had overheard his conversation with Elliott. Isaac decided that the best course of action was to ignore it. He would act as though nothing had happened.
Looking up at the clear sky, he noted with satisfaction that the sun was already shining brightly. The weather forecast for the next few days looked promising. The storm earlier in the week had been pushed in by a warm front. Sarasota would be experiencing balmier weather than usual at this time of year.
He was glad for Kathy and Dan. The weather gods were smiling on them. After all the upset about Shelley, they were finally getting a break. Having good weather would also make his own life easier and ensure that the party could be held outside on the patio after all.
Isaac pulled out his cell phone and called the maintenance department.
“Hi, Hector. Will you guys bring over the patio heaters? I don’t expect to need them, but we should have them ready to go just in case we need them for the wedding breakfast.”
Remembering that some setup had already been done for an indoor reception, Isaac continued with the directions. “And, Hector, at some point you guys are also going to have to bring all the tables and chairs out from inside.”
Isaac listened as he was told that the maintenance staff might have to put in overtime to complete the job. He shrugged. “I know there’s lots to do just with the routine upkeep of this place. Do whatever’s necessary to get the extra stuff done,” he said with newfound authority.
Walter had approached him about taking over Shelley’s duties as well as continuing with the event-planning responsibilities. It was going to mean a better title and a sizable increase in pay. Best of all, Walter was too busy to nickel-and-dime him. Isaac wasn’t going to have to justify every single dollar he spent, as he had with Shelley. Nor was he going to have to worry that Shelley would snitch on him and ruin his life.
Though Isaac hadn’t envisioned a promotion as a result of Shelley’s death, it was just another benefit.
