Sea of Suspicion (6 page)

“I’m Detective Inspector Nick Archer. Can you ladies tell me what happened?”

A short, chubby brunette had her arm thrown protectively over the blonde’s shoulders. Both wore Gor-Tex rain jackets, blue jeans and trainers that were covered in a dark sticky substance that was probably blood. The brunette had a big handbag on the bench at her side, a flashlight beside it.

“We were just walking hame.” The broad Glaswegian twang cut through him.

The whining pitch of her voice set his teeth on edge, but he nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Tina Bell.” The girl met his gaze briefly. “People call me Tinker.”

’Course they did.

Her gaze shifted to her friend, whose head wobbled when Tina shook her gently by the shoulders. The blonde looked up, her pupils optical saucers, telling him exactly why the brunette was being so damn protective. At least one of them was surfing the cosmos and it wasn’t him. When the blonde didn’t say anything, Tinkerbell plowed on. “And this here is Cynthia Parkinson. Cyn.” She shook her friend again and the girl’s head bobbed.

Nick wrote it in his notebook along with their address, then he verified their ID. “Mind if I take a look at your cell phone?”

Tinkerbell dug deep into her coat pocket.

“Thanks.” He flipped through the call history and checked the time of her last call. One twenty-three, to 999, the emergencies services. When he’d been busy in the office above their heads, rifling through Sizemore’s desk. A visceral heat swept through him and opened his pores.

Had the girl on the beach still been alive?

“Mind if I take a look in your handbags?” Nick asked, ignoring his own emotions and doing the job. Not that these two were likely killers, but he couldn’t afford to ignore the obvious.

Tinkerbell was smart, he could see the understanding in her eyes. “Go ahead, but we didn’t kill her.”

It was too much to ask to find a blood-soaked blunt instrument in the recesses of a canvas tote, but killers were generally careless and often unintelligent, and regularly hung out at their crime scenes. There were no other spectators, and no media to control yet, which was a blessing.

“Did you see anyone? Hear anything?” He passed the bags back and Tina shook her head.

Cynthia chose that moment to quit crying, her blond curls damp around pinched features. “I slipped. And when I put my hand on the path it got covered in something sticky and then Tina got out her torch and we realized there was blood everywhere. We thought maybe some animal had been run over and we wanted to try and help it. But then…then we saw the body…” She started wiping her palm across her knee in a repetitive gesture that made Nick queasy.

A sliver of sympathy worked its way free.

Finding a body would haunt them for a long time. No need to point out doing drugs was stupid. They’d either figure it out or they’d become another statistic. The sobs started again and Nick looked up, relieved as a rumpled, sleepy-looking Ewan rushed to his side.

“We need an official statement.” Nick raised his brows in query, but Tinkerbell, who looked more like a prop forward than a fairy, was gathering her stuff before hauling the other girl to her feet. “If you go with this detective—” he pointed to Ewan, “—he’ll take care of you.”

Ewan smiled like a benevolent uncle.

“Anything else you think of…” Nick was already backing away, leaving Ewan to deal with the technicalities of the two young women and their awful needy emotions.

“I know we weren’t very nice to her, but I didn’t want to see her dead.” Cynthia’s knees buckled. Tinkerbell hung on determinedly before giving up and slumping onto the bench in defeat. Nick’s eyes latched onto Tinkerbell’s.

“You
knew
her?” He stopped backing away. “How did you recognize her? Did you touch the body?”

Tinkerbell’s eyes flooded with tears, which she tried to wipe away. “She shared a flat with us.” She held his gaze, angled her chin toward Albany Park. “We didn’t touch her, but I recognize her jacket and hair.” She sniffed. “Her name is Tracy Good. She was doing a Ph.D. at the Gatty.”

A bolt of excitement seared his nerves and made every sense flare to life.

“With who?” Nick’s voice was harsher than he intended, and the girl’s eyes widened under the sodium vapor.

“I don’t remember his name.” The whiny pitch was back. “But he’s the head of department.”

“Sizemore? Professor Jake Sizemore?”

Tinkerbell nodded, her lip trembling.

Exhilaration dragged shame in its wake. A young woman was dead and he was still obsessed with revenge.

He met Ewan’s gaze over the girls’ heads and his colleague mouthed exactly what he was thinking. “Fuck.”

A hangover raged quietly behind Susie’s eyes as she sat at Emily Heathcote’s kitchen table pretending not to suffer. The old woman’s hands shook under the weight of the teapot but she didn’t spill a drop. Susie had been about to go for a walk along the beach to clear her head when she found Emily on her doorstep. Her neighbor had insisted she come over for tea and biscuits.

“Milk and sugar?” Emily’s accent was English rather than Scottish, easier to understand than the local dialect.

“Just milk, please.” Susie clasped her hands tight in her lap like a little girl visiting royalty. “Have you lived in Scotland long?”

“It seems like we’ve lived here forever.” Emily’s eyes lost focus. “Peter and I moved up from Essex when Christina started as an undergraduate. We came for a visit and fell in love with the place.” She poured milk from a small jug painted with blue flowers made at a local pottery in Crail. “It saved money on rent by her living at home.” Memories clung to her smile. “And then she met Nick and they were so happy. It seemed like a fairytale romance.”

That had ended in tragedy.

Added guilt weighed like lead across her shoulders. Christina Heathcote had died long ago, but kissing Nick last night felt like adultery.

“It must have been awful when you lost her.” Susie lowered her head and stared into her lap. She could relate to that loss even though her own child wasn’t dead.

“Peter helped, but then he died.” Emily stirred sugar into her tea, the spoon circling faster and faster. “For the longest time I didn’t know what to do…” She blinked away what looked like heartbreak. “Anyway, enough of that.”

She got up, her skirt swishing against her nylons, and fetched a cookie jar back to the table. She frowned when she opened the lid and pulled out a set of keys. “How did these get here?”

“Oh I do stuff like that all the time,” Susie reassured the older woman. “Last weekend I left a book in the refrigerator and didn’t find it until I went hunting for a snack.”

Emily eyed her steadily with one eyebrow raised. “I’m sure you are just saying that to make me feel better, but I do find old age and battiness rather liberating.” She smiled and spread cookies on a plate. With a nod, she indicated for Susie to take one. “I hope Lily is working hard for you.”

“She’s a good student.” Susie bit into a cookie, the taste of home-baking melting on her tongue and reminding her of her grandmother’s kitchen, where she’d spent some of the best days of her life.

“I wish she’d give up that job in that awful pub.” Emily shook her head, fragile silver hair falling from where she’d pinned it to the top of her head. “She didn’t get home till 2 a.m. last night.”

Susie wiped crumbs from her lips. “It’s good she tries to help out financially.”

Emily shot her a sly look. “I bet you never worked to get through college.”

“My mother forbade me.” A trace of bitterness leaked out and Susie pressed her lips together. If her mother ran for president she needed to learn to guard even the tiniest of secrets.

“Mothers like to protect their babies.” Emily twisted her wedding band then looked away. “If we can.”

Emily’s grief was palpable and tore at Susie’s heart. At least her own child was alive and well.

“Would you like to see a photograph of Christina?” Emily’s skin looked ashen, but her eyes were sharp, cataloguing Susie’s reaction to what Susie suspected was a rare honor. Did she want to see a picture of the woman Nick Archer had loved and lost?

Heck no.

“Of course.” Susie nodded and smiled, trapped by someone else’s motherly love.

Emily stood, polyester swishing, slippers padding across worn linoleum, and went through the door into the back of the house. Susie didn’t know if she was supposed to follow or wait in the kitchen. She stood uncertainly, blew out one cheek into a ball.

“Through here,” Emily coaxed in a soft voice.

Hesitant, Susie walked through a homey living room with overstuffed couches, a battalion of knickknacks and a fat black cat asleep on a chair. She followed the light of an open doorway distorted by the old woman’s shadow.

“Lily’s asleep.” Emily pointed to another door and placed her fingers to her lips, waving Susie into a small pink-walled bedroom with a twin bed pushed against the wall. Emily closed the door behind Susie, which spooked her for no reason at all.

The walls were covered in framed photographs. Baby portraits, school shots, university graduation with Christina in a cap and gown. Every dimension of development catalogued and captured in a parental shrine.

Snow White was the first thing that crossed Susie’s mind. The girl looked like some Hollywood version of Snow White. Midnight hair, blue eyes, ruby lips. Nothing like Lily. Except who knew what Lily looked like under all that paint?

“They were very much in love.” Emily pointed to a picture of Christina and Nick on their wedding day.

Susie avoided looking at it and instead picked up a framed photo off the dresser. “Christina was a diver?”

Emily’s hands twitched nervously. There was a group of people in the shot, Nick looking impossibly young and lanky, his arm draped possessively across Christina’s shoulder. They looked tired but satisfied, the way it felt after the perfect dive.

Hot panic shot along Susie’s nerves, and beads of sweat popped out along her brow.

Dela rocketing to the surface. Susie racing after her. The sound of her own breath booming in her ears as she inflated Dela’s lungs with her own.

Susie swayed slightly, blindsided by the rush of emotion cruising her veins.

“All marine biologists are divers, aren’t they?” Emily was oblivious to Susie’s reaction. Instead she took the photo from Susie’s fingers and returned it to the exact same spot on the dresser.

“Not always.” Lightheaded, Susie held on to the edge of the drawers and hoped she didn’t faint. Her heart skipped erratically and her mouth felt like ashes. She’d thought she was over the trauma of her friend’s death, but obviously she was mistaken.

Suddenly the door burst open and there stood Nick. His eyes flicked from her to the photos on the wall and eventually landed on Emily. If Susie hadn’t been propping herself up, she’d have just fallen over from the appalled expression on his face.

“I knocked, but there was no answer.” He looked exhausted, the lines around his eyes cut deeper, as if he’d been up all night. She wondered what case had caused that level of weariness but decided she didn’t want to know.

“You don’t have to knock, Nicholas.” Emily shuffled past Susie and embraced her son-in-law. “I was just showing Susie a photograph of Christina.”

Great
. Now it sounded as though she’d inquired after the dead girl. Nick didn’t look at her and Susie grimaced, the throbbing pain of her hangover intensifying so that she closed her eyes.
Damn
.

“What’s going on?” Lily came out of her bedroom in charcoal flannel pj’s that swamped her tiny stature. She squinted up at Nick. “I thought you had footy this morning? I was going to come and watch.” Her blond hair stuck out and the remnants of last night’s makeup smudged her eyes. Susie would have been mortified to wake up and find her Ph.D. supervisor, her brother-in-law and her mother chatting over pictures of her dead sister, especially when one of them was a cop. But then Susie didn’t look half as cute as Lily did when she woke up. She was more the rabid squirrel variety.

Lily didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

I should have stayed home in bed.
But then it would have been her in her pj’s when Nick returned the car. Although maybe he hadn’t even gone to her house? He’d probably dropped off her car, left the keys in the ignition and come up here, hoping to avoid her. Mortification grew and she could feel fire pouring into her cheeks.

“I had to ditch the game. Something came up.” Nick ruffled Lily’s hair in a careless gesture and directed her toward the kitchen with an arm over her shoulders. Emily followed and Susie trailed behind. He avoided looking at her, obviously embarrassed about last night. She raised her chin. He wasn’t the only one.

“Tea. Good.” Lily grabbed a mug and poured herself a cup from the still warm teapot.

“Nick, let me get you something.” Emily took a china cup and started pouring tea, treating him like the prodigal son.

He held up his hand. “This isn’t a social call.” His green eyes bored into Susie’s with an emotion she couldn’t decipher. “There’s been a murder and I need to ask Dr. Cooper some questions.”

“Oh my God! Where? When? Was it someone we knew?” Lily’s eyes blinked rapid-fire.

“I can’t tell you, yet.” Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned at her. “What time did you get off work last night?”

Lily wrinkled her nose attractively at his refusal to answer her questions. “I got a taxi back around quarter to two.” Her jaw dropped and she grabbed his arm. “I saw police cars by the Gatty when we drove past, was it someone from the lab?” As Lily’s voice rose so did the tension stretching Susie’s nerves.

Nick stood silent for a moment, then let out a quiet breath. “This can’t go any further. We need to notify next of kin, but one of Jake Sizemore’s students was murdered outside the Gatty last night.”

Emily collapsed into the chair beside the table. “That dreadful man has done it again!”

“No way. Was it Hannah? Mikey? Or Tracy? Oh my God, say it wasn’t Hannah. I’ve got to call her.” Tears streamed down Lily’s cheeks and Nick put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.

“You can’t call anyone until I’ve spoken to the family. Show some respect.”

Susie sagged against the kitchen countertop, unable to control the lightheaded sensation that swirled around her head. She’d met all of Jake’s students and each one had been young, vigorous and full of life.

Not anymore.

Life could be snatched in a moment. She’d already learned that lesson the hard way this year.

“I saw Tracy in at work yesterday. I know she often works late.” Numb to the bone, Susie started to shiver because somehow she knew it was Tracy who’d died.

Something flickered in Nick’s eyes. “Yes, it was Tracy Good who was killed last night.”

Lily sobbed and covered her face with her hands.

Emily looked up from the kitchen table and wagged a finger at Lily. “That’s the girl you told me was sleeping with that monster.”

“Mother!” Lily dragged her fingers down her face. “How can you say that when she’s dead?”

Nick frowned at Lily, who glared at her mother. “Is it true?” he asked.

“Of course it’s true. Isn’t it obvious?” Emily’s voice turned to a screech and Susie’s hand reached for the doorknob.

Nick held up his hand for silence, pointed a finger at Susie. “Stay. I need to talk to you.”

She froze.

He turned back to Emily. “I don’t like the bastard any more than you do, but it doesn’t mean he killed this girl.” The conviction in his voice sounded as if he meant it, but the gleam in his eye told a different story.

Emily pursed her lips. But her heavy breathing crackled through the air. “I expect there won’t be any evidence. The police are so useless they wouldn’t find the murderer even if he was bent over the body covered in blood!”

Nick went still as silence boomed around the kitchen.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Em.” His eyes glittered like chips of ice. “I’m going to forget you said that.”

“Fine,” Emily muttered, wringing her hands together. “Forget it, the same way you
forgot
that man killed your wife. And now it looks like he’s done it again.”

“Tracy didn’t have a family.” Lily’s lips were alabaster pale as her eyes shot between her mother and Nick. “Tracy hasn’t got any relatives, or legal guardians. She was raised in a foster home.”

“Well at least there’s no one to mourn her.” Emily threw a contemptuous look at her son-in-law.

“I need to verify the information before her name is released to the media.” Nick put his hand on Lily’s shoulder, ignored his mother-in-law. “Not one word of this leaks until I say so, got it? No phone calls, texts or emails to your friends, understand?”

Lily wiped her reddened eyes and nodded. “Why do you need to talk to Dr. Cooper?”

“Police business.” His expression was void of emotion.

“You don’t think
she
did it, do you?” Emily’s eyes bulged as if Susie had suddenly morphed into a murder suspect.

Susie sent her a strained smile.

“Susie is one of the few people I know didn’t do it.”

Her cheeks heated as Lily sent her a speculative glance. Susie twisted the doorknob and opened the door.

“We were at a dinner party with mutual friends,” she explained before she escaped. She took in a huge breath of fresh air, watched the Bellrock lighthouse flash far out to sea. Poor Tracy Good.

Nick came up behind her and caught her elbow. “Come on, Susie Q. I’ve got some questions for you. Let’s go somewhere private where we can talk.” He touched her shoulder, the slight pressure spreading awareness and anticipation along her spine.

They started down the single track road toward her cottage.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me last night.” Susie didn’t want him to think something was going to happen between them.

“Why not?” He looked exhausted, but his voice held humor.

She didn’t appreciate his amusement. “Because I was drunk.”

Nick bumped up one shoulder and kicked a stone along the dirt. “I wasn’t.”

Susie caught his gaze and his eyes, though tired, shone with mischief. “Come on, Susie. We both know it was going to happen sooner or later, you being drunk just fast-forwarded all the boring bits.”

“
Boring bits?
” Fury blasted away her hangover. “You mean like actually getting to know me?”

He had the grace to look shamefaced. “That’s not what I meant.”

Susie batted cow parsley out of the way.

He caught her hand and she tried to wrench it from his grasp, but he held fast.

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

His eyes were the color of green grass after rain with lashes turned golden by the sun. His gaze dropped to her lips and she knew he was going to kiss her, only this time she wouldn’t have any excuse when she kissed him back. The marram grass started rustling and a dog flew out of an overgrown beach trail and landed in a spray of sand at Nick’s feet.