Sandrift: A Lin Hanna Mystery (12 page)

“This is a nice
place you have here,” Lin smiled. “I was surprised when I walked
in—everything looks new.”

“Thanks,” Tim
responded, “but it’s really not so new.
 
I did renovations about five years ago but I try to keep the place
maintained and looking nice.
 
I’m
hoping to do some work outside next spring, maybe add a porch for an outside
eating area.
 
That’s popular with
the summer crowd.”

The waitress
arrived with the coffee and removed Lin’s half-eaten salad when she indicated
she was through with it.
 
She turned
to Tim and explained her mission.

“Yeah,” Tim
responded, “Dorrie came in last week,
I
believe it
might’ve been Wednesday or Thursday—not sure.
 
She looked great; it was good to see her
again.” He paused and his voice seemed to catch, “I couldn’t believe it when I
heard she was dead, then all that stuff about her being the one who killed Liz,
way back.
 
Hard to
take in.
 
Must have her
parents really
tore
up…”

“They are
upset,”
Lin
agreed, “that’s why I’m here.
 
They’re looking for some answers as to
what she might’ve been doing here before she died.
 
One of the employees at the hotel where
she was staying said she mentioned coming here to see some old friends.”

“Yeah, we have
a pretty good crowd of regulars in the bar at night, Dorrie remembered some of
them.
 
She used to be quite the
party girl when she lived here before, but she behaved pretty good last week,
only had one beer—far cry from the Dorrie I knew before.”

“Did she know
she was a suspect in Liz’s murder case?” Lin decided to try to get more
information since Tim seemed comfortable talking with her.

“Well, I think
some of the guys here must have mentioned it to her.
 
You know there were never any official
charges or anything, just a lot of talk back then.
 
No ‘wanted’ posters or such, but she
seemed upset when she left here so I’m thinking someone mentioned it to her.”

“Did she say
anything about it to you, or anyone else?” Lin questioned.

“Well, Mike
Clark said she asked if Liz’s family was still here.
 
Wanted to know where they lived and so
forth.
 
He thought she was planning
to go see them.
 
Maybe she wanted to
talk to them, find out if they thought she was responsible for what happened to
Liz.
 
I can’t say for sure.
 
All that stuff, it’s an old story so who
knows what people think now.”

“Apparently,
Sheriff Midgett is pretty sure Dorrie was guilty,” Lin pressed further.

“Pete’s a good
man,” Tim replied. “We went to school together.
 
He always does his best.
 
He was just a deputy back then; I think
it was his first real case and he told me everything pointed to Dorrie, but at
the time I don’t think he had enough evidence to file charges.
 
Apparently, he thinks it’s more clear
cut now—at least that’s what the papers say.”

“Well, I’m sure
I don’t know,” Lin said. “I just know Dorrie’s parents need some sense of
closure.
 
It won’t bring Dorrie back
to them, but they’d like to know what she was doing during her last days.”

“I understand,”
Tim replied. “I’d feel the same way if it were one of my kids. I hope you can
find some answers for them.”

“Is there
anyone else you can think of I should talk to?” Lin asked.

“Maybe Liz’s
Mom and her sister,” Tim replied. “I don’t know if Dorrie ever got to see them
or not.”

“How do I find
them?” Lin asked.

Tim gave her
some directions and invited her to come back sometime for dinner. “We have some
really good barbeque,” he offered. “If you come back some evening you might be
able to talk to some of the other regulars.
 
Dorrie might have talked to some of them
about her plans.”

“Maybe, I
will,” Lin smiled. “I love good barbeque and I have a friend who really ought
to try it.
 
Thanks Tim, you’ve been
very helpful.”

“Anytime,” the
genial man responded. “Dorrie was a good kid, she just got herself turned all
crosswise when she was younger.
 
Got
off on the wrong path at first.”

“Do you think
she had anything to do with Liz’s death?” Lin decided to risk asking.

Tim was
thoughtful, hesitating before answering, “Not really,” he finally replied, “but
then it’s hard to say.
 
Dorrie was
into some pretty heavy drinking back then, some drugs too, I think.
 
Some people do things when they’re all
messed up that they wouldn’t generally do…”

Lin nodded her
understanding and placed money for her meal on the table, including a generous
tip for her waitress.

“Thanks, again
Tim, I’ll be back for that barbeque,” she smiled as she exited.

It was after
noon, and Lin wasn’t sure what to do next.
 
Should she try to locate Liz’s family or should she go back home for a
while to check on Sparky, maybe go out again later in the day?
 
She was still sitting in her car thinking
when her cell phone rang.
 
It was
Tom Miller.

“Where are you
and what are you doing?” Tom was very direct.

“I’m just
leaving Tim’s Bar and Grill,” Lin responded.

“Well, how
‘bout you meet me for coffee somewhere.
 
I’ve found some interesting things this morning.”

Lin remembered
that Tom was looking into the story of Liz Frazier’s murder, and a possible
connection to some jewelry she might’ve scavenged from wreckage she found on
shore.
 
Interesting, but not
directly related to her current mission.
 
Nevertheless, it was probably a good story, and Lin didn’t wish to put
off the older gentleman.
 
She agreed
to meet him at the Starbucks back up in Southern Shores.
 
According to the directions she’d been
given, Liz Frazier’s Mom lived somewhere south of that point but still north of
Kate’s neighborhood.
 
She could try
to see her on her way home after seeing Tom.
 
Sparky would be fine and she should
still make it back before four.

Tom Miller was
already there when Lin arrived, seated at a small table near the back of the
shop.
 
A map and folder were placed
in front of him.
 
Lin decided on a
cup of iced passion tea, she’d already had enough caffeine for one day, and
joined Tom.

Tom didn’t
waste time; he opened the folder and began to pull out various news articles and
pages of notes.
 
Some of the
newspaper pieces were yellow with age. “I know I should have all these
scanned,” Tom observed. “I’m trying to catch up with the digital age, but
that’s hard to do when you’re past eighty.”
 
There was a sparkle in his eye. “ Nevertheless,
I’ve found something that might fit Liz Frazier’s story.”

“I’m not
totally without computer skills,” he offered with a wink, “I did locate and
print a couple of stories that appeared in the local paper at the time of Liz’s
death.”
 
He pushed a couple of
sheets toward Lin.
 
She read them
quickly, noting that Tom had highlighted references to Liz’s telling friends
and family members that she had found a set of jewelry she thought was
valuable—apparently a ring, pendant, and some earrings.
 
It seemed that only Liz’s family and the
owner of the Island Pawn shop, Billy Thornton, reported actually seeing any
jewelry, however.
 
Others questioned
the reality of the find.
 

“Apparently,
Liz claimed to have found the items in the sand near some timbers of a wrecked
vessel that were uncovered near Hatteras Point during a storm in early November
that year, 2000 it was.” Tom continued. “ I can confirm from earlier research
that there was indeed such a storm and lots of drifting sand as a result.
 
It’s not a stretch to assume that there
was some evidence of a wreck uncovered at that time.
 
The location was Hatteras Point and that
suggested to me that it would’ve most likely been a smaller vessel, possibly a
personal yacht.
 
It could’ve run
aground at some time during a storm years earlier, possibly while trying to
reach calmer waters in the sound.”

Despite
thinking that this story wasn’t really important to her search for information
about Dorrie, Lin began to be fascinated by this tale.
 
No wonder Tom enjoyed doing this kind of
research.
 
There was so much history
here, so many people impacted in so many ways.
 
She refocused her attention on what Tom
was saying.

“ These facts
led me to research smaller vessels that might’ve been reported as wrecked in
the Hatteras Point area. Actually, there were lots of them, but most were
fishing trawlers or small cargo vessels that would’ve been unlikely to have
passengers, certainly not passengers with valuable jewelry,” he explained.

“I did,
however, come across one story that might support such a find.”
 
He pulled out a yellowed newspaper
account. “In 1925 a wealthy New York family apparently ran their yacht, aptly
named Sandrift, aground just offshore of Hatteras Point.
 
They were traveling to Florida, along
the coast and an early-season Nor’easter caught up with them.
 
They were, indeed, trying to reach
calmer waters by moving to the sound side when they hit a shoal just offshore
and grounded their vessel.” He handed Lin the weathered bit of newspaper.
 
“According to this, they were rescued,
but the storm prevented removing any of their personal belongings. Those were
all lost.”

Tom continued,
“As I was saying earlier, the nature of these islands, the way the sands shift
and the shoreline moves over time, can cause wrecks offshore to eventually be
uncovered on a beach.
 
Perhaps that’s
what happened here.”

“Would the
wreck still be there?” Lin asked.

“It could be,
but I don’t know of any timbers currently visible in that area.
 
Most likely it was covered again or
drifted offshore during a subsequent storm.
 
It happens a lot along this coast.
 
Some wrecks remain visible for years,
others vanish again.”

“This is very
interesting Tom, no wonder you enjoy your work,” Lin smiled.

“It’s more fun
for me than work—especially now that I’m retired from teaching.
 
I can spend my time pursuing my favorite
interests. Thank you for taking the time to listen.”

“It was my
pleasure,” Lin responded. “I enjoy learning new things.”

“Keep this
article, if you like,” Tom offered. “I really do need to stop collecting so
much of this stuff in paper form.
 
Just be for my family to deal with when I’m gone,” he teased.

Lin had a
passing thought that the news article might provide an opening for talking with
Liz’s family.
 
They might be
interested to learn that there was possible truth to her story that the jewelry
she showed them was indeed valuable. “I’ll keep it, thanks,” Lin said. “Maybe,
I’ll copy it and then return the original.”

“Don’t bother,”
Tom said, “I’m more focused now on vessels that were sunk during World War II.
 
Doubt I’ll be pursuing information about
wrecked yachts anytime soon.
 
I
found this in an old folder of miscellaneous items I collected years ago and
saved in case they might prove useful later.”

 
Tom gathered his papers and prepared to
leave the coffee shop, asking Lin to tell Neal he’d not forgotten about their
plans to visit some historical spots together. “Tell him I’ll call sometime soon
and we can make some plans.”

Lin followed
Tom outside, stopping at her car to check the time.
 
She still had more than an hour before she
needed to be home.
 
Plenty of time
to try to locate Liz’s family, especially since it was on her way.
 
She tucked the address she’d been given
on the console where she could easily check it.

The house
wasn’t difficult to locate; it was on a dirt road about half a mile back from
the highway on the west side of the island.
 
Lin managed to avoid the deeper sand
along the edges, wishing a couple of times she had taken Kate’s Jeep that
morning and let Neal drive her car.
 
The Frazier home was a small cinderblock dwelling with a wooden porch
across the front.
 
There was an
older car in the driveway.
 
An old
pick up truck that had obviously not been driven in years decorated the side
yard; weeds had grown up almost to the top of the wheel wells.
 
Lin saw a light in the front window
indicating someone must be at home.
 
She climbed the rickety steps to the porch and was just about to knock
on the door when it opened.

A small gray-haired
woman in a calico housedress covered with a white apron stared at her from
behind old-fashioned wire-rimmed spectacles.
 
“If you’re collecting for anything, I’m
not interested.
 
Don’t want to buy
nothin’ either,” she began to push the door shut.

Lin spoke
quickly, “Mrs. Frazier, I’m not collecting or selling, and I promise not to
keep you long from your work, but I need to ask you if Dorrie Johnson came to
see you last week.”