Swept Away (5 page)

“Amanda Stone, the murdered girl’s mom.”

“Start it over. I want to hear it.”

“…
I, uh, I came home early from dinner. Some friends asked me to go…I didn’t want to…I just had a feeling.”
There was a small pause for whimpers and tears. “
When I got home, I went to Ariel’s room to tell her good night, and…and I found Jeb.
More tears.
He was strangling her, holding her down. She had no clothes on, and I screamed. I screamed for him to get away from my daughter. I shot at him, but I missed. He charged at me and wrestled it from me…shooting me…here…I passed out, and when I woke…my…my…little girl…was gone.”

The woman’s voice annoyed him, which made him feel like shit. Poor woman lost her kid and Tucker couldn’t get past the woman’s voice being annoying. “I’ve heard enough.”

“She doesn’t sound all that damned torn up, does she?” Santos said as the sound went off. There were more clicks then Santos said, “You realize they convicted Stone without ever finding her body?”

“They can convict without a body?”

“Get enough circumstantial evidence, it’s doable. Seems they had the mother’s testimony. Sheets soiled with the girl’s blood and his semen. And her blood was found all over his car. And she was the second girl to go missing that month, with Stone being the common denominator.”

“That second girl, seems she’s my sister, and she’s missing. The police have her down as a runaway, but a letter about Mad Mags arrived about a week after the Stone girl died. Maddy’s mom swears it’s from my sister. Swears the girl was trying to send her a message. Mad Mags is the ghost of a kidnapped girl here on Ocracoke, so I came to check it out. Now, I’m thinking it’s meant to reveal a what, not a where.”

“I hate to say this, but the more I read on this, Stone seems to have been getting away with molesting the stepdaughter for years. Maybe he was molesting the friend too. Hell, he could have had countless victims. Maybe someone else sent the letter?”

“Hard to tell. It’s just—this girl’s mom—she’s convinced it’s Maddy.”

“And she wants you to find her baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, hero, you’re the shit, but even you can’t work miracles. My money is on both of these girls being dead. Probably a hundred feet deep in Lake Eerie.”

Tucker sighed.

“Tell you what, send me the letter. I have a friend at Quantico. I’ll see if he can have it analyzed and get anything from it.”

“That would be great.”

Tucker hung up the phone. He was about to grab a beer and find out what all wonders general cable had to offer, when his phone rang. Marie. Ash’s widow.

“Hey, Tucker! I told David he didn’t give you an address. You can just send it to my house. David’s here all the time.

“David?”

“Santos? You were just talking to him.”

“Our Santos? He’s there? With you?”

“He stops by when he can. He came over tonight to mow and I talked him into staying for dinner. He told you he moved to Birmingham, right?”

“I never put the two together. So, Santos is hanging around your house, huh?” Tucker ran a hand through his hair. Tucker hoped he wasn’t plugging their buddy’s widow. Ash deserved better than that.

“Some.  You got a problem with David? Something I should know about?”

“Not at all. I’m just surprised. You and Ash were perfect together, and this…hell, this sounds pretty damned cozy.”

Marie was quiet. He could hear a puff of breath. “Tucker, we’re just…friends.”

“Just friends?”

“Uh, yeah. Mostly. I--”

Tucker’s chest hurt, and he wasn’t sure why. Marie was young. Of course she’d move on. And Santos was trustworthy. He loved Ash almost as much as Tucker did.  How could Santos move so quickly? It’d only been what—six months?

Marie took a deep breath.  “Look, Tucker, no matter how much I miss him, I can’t bring him back. David is a good friend, and I need that. It’s scary, you know? I never imagined life alone.”

Tucker closed his eyes. Who the hell was he? It wasn’t like he was the one raising a three-year-old alone. And hadn’t he spent his day trying to hit on the hot girl next door only a few weeks after Holly died? He knew he was being selfish not to let Marie off the hook, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell her it was all right to move on.

There was an awkward silence until Marie took a deep breath and asked, “So, the rumors about Holly? They true?”

“Afraid so.”

“I am so sorry. I know things were crazy between you two, but still…I know you loved her.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“David said her mother refused the flowers you sent to the funeral.”

“Yeah, well, that’s their right.”

“It’s rude. I can’t believe they blame--”

“Look, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” Tucker tried to sound light, but it came out with more than a little bitterness.

“Tucker, you know I love you, so I mean no offense, but you sound like hell.”

“I swear. I’m fine.”

“Holly’s death wasn’t your fault. Neither was Ash’s.”

“Shit Marie, there’s someone at my door.”

“You liar. Okay, fine. Go drink your beer, but remember, I’m here for you.”

Tucker hung up. Snatching a couple of beers from the fridge, he took them to the couch. He was done talking. And thinking.

Tucker woke stiff and achy after curling his six-foot frame into a five-foot couch for a night. Twisting his neck left then right, he tried to work out the kinks. After a hot shower and a thorough scouring away of beer mouth with his toothbrush, he was ready for work.

Murray was waiting on him at the shop with his list of work. Trim the trees near the cabins and deliver the day’s repaired appliances. Tucker finished before four, but Murray assured him, “When you’re done; you’re done. I give you a list, you get done…the day’s yours.” Adding with a wink, Murray said, “Might want to get you a fishin’ pole.”

But Tucker had no pole and no real desire to sit on a dock and wait for fish to bite. Instead, he lounged on his porch swing. Lost in thoughts that were far more uncomfortable and unsettling than a pleasant day deserved, Tucker tried to shut his brain down and enjoy the sunny skies, but it was impossible.  The conversation with Marie ruined what small level of comfort he’d found in this place.

“Hey,” Josie said, stopping in front of his porch.  “You look a million miles away.”

Tucker jumped, sitting straighter in his seat. “Nah, just relaxing.”

“I usually look happy when I relax. Anything wrong?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Mr. Boone.” Josie wagged her finger at him.

“I’m not lying.” He grinned. He suddenly wasn’t lying. Having Josie walk up on his porch was a game changer. Today was turning out to be a good day.

Josie settled herself on his porch, leaning her back against the rail post. “You can tell me, if you’d like. I’m trustworthy, I swear.”

“It’s not that. It’s just a stupid thing.”

”Nothing’s stupid. Not if it bothers you.”

“No, this is stupid.”

“Let me be the judge.” She grinned.

He took a deep breath. “A friend of mine died, and his widow seems to be moving on—

you know dating another guy.”

Josie thought a minute before she said, “It’s till death do they part.”

“I know. That’s what I keep telling myself. So, why does it bug me?”

“Do you have feelings for her?”

Tucker’s body pulled back at the thought. “No. Nothing like that. And the guy she’s talking about, he’s a good guy. One of the best. What the hell’s my problem?”

“How long has your friend been gone?”

“Six months.”

“That’s not a very long time. You’re still grieving. Any change while you’re hurting feels like a new wound.”

Tucker nodded. He gripped the swing until his knuckles turned white. “I guess part of me wonders why she isn’t grieving any more. Like he’s dead and gone, but that doesn’t matter to her anymore.” His nose burned, and his eyes stung. He shouldn’t have brought this up. “Oh well, hell. What do I care? None of my business.”

In a heartbeat, Josie was beside him. Her hand was small, but warm against his arm. “You’re a good friend. He’ll always have you. Even if everyone else forgets, you won’t. He has that.”

When she looked up at him, he was startled by her eyes. He’d assumed they were brown, but in the afternoon sun, he could tell they were as dark blue as an evening sky. In a moment, he felt understanding and hope—a levity he hadn’t felt in years, if ever. “I should tell her it’s all right?”

“I think,” Josie said, the pressure on his arm increasing as she spoke, “you should take care of yourself for a bit. This is her decision, not yours.”

He nodded. She was right. He’d have to accept whatever Marie chose to do.

“Thanks, Josie.”

“You feel better?”

“I do.”

“Good.” She patted his arm, then stood to leave.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

“No, thanks. If you need anything else, you know where to find me,” she said as she stepped off his porch.

Tucker jumped up and followed her. “Before you go, would you mind telling me how to get to that beach you told me about? Murray says I’m done for the day, and there’s still a hell of a lot of day left, especially for a guy without cable or internet. Pretty soon, I might start reading books.”

She chewed on her lip, but a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Would reading a book kill you?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t done it since I graduated. It could. My brain might reel from shock.”

Josie laughed, unleashing her smile on him. It was the kind that wrinkled the corners of her eyes and made her face glow. She shook her head slowly as she said, “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Not a prick of an ex, I hope?”

“No, a friend.  A really, really good friend.” Josie’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

Tucker opened his mouth to ask her more about her friend, but he could read in her eyes, she was done.

“Let me go change and I’ll take you.”

“Excellent,” Tucker said as he watched her walk away.

Eager as a fourteen-year-old on his first date, Tucker was dressed in his swim trunks and waiting on her porch in less than ten minutes. When Josie opened her door, Tucker almost fell off the step. Her hair was loosely piled on top of her head, the front shoved back by sunglasses. Her skin was shiny, and he could smell the sunblock.  She’d traded her tennis shoes for flip-flops, and her pink toes matched the straps of the bathing suit circling her neck from under her tank top.

“Ready?” she asked.

He broke out of his stupor and nodded. Oh hell yeah, he was ready.

“It’s a long walk,” she warned as she pulled her sunglasses off her head and slid them on.

“I’ve done all-day hikes through deserts in my play clothes. Walking in the sunshine with a towel as my only gear…life is damn good.”

“Play clothes?”

“Battle rattle? It’s when you head out in full gear—gas mask, gunny sack, IMTV.”

Her face scrunched up. “IMTV?”

“Improved Modular Tactical Vest. Previously known as an armored vest, but that’s so first Iraq War. IMTV is fully updated with removable plates and iPhone holder.”

“Really?”

Tucker laughed. “No. I mean yes to removable plates, no to the iPhone dock.”

“Why would you remove any plates? I’d wear them all, or does it get too heavy?”

“It’s not too bad. The towel, though, is a hell of a lot better.”

She smiled, reaching out and giving his arm a squeeze. “I bet it is.” As quickly as she touched him, she pulled away.

They wound their way through cottage-lined roads. Paved roads quickly gave way to rutted, compact sand. As they walked, crickets chirped from clusters of oleander, and mosquitoes buzzed in his ears. He slapped at them, though Josie didn’t seem to mind the bugs or heat. She pointed out historical houses as they passed. “Isn’t it just amazing how long these have been here?”

“Impressive how they’ve withstood so many storms. Makes you wonder what they did differently when they built them.”

Josie nodded. “When storms hit, they used to drill holes in the floor, so the water could rise in the house. If they didn’t drill the holes, the water could lift the house off its foundation and it’d float away. And the families rarely evacuated. Instead, they’d go as high as they could, like to the attic, and wait out the storm. Can you imagine?”

“No.  I’d be all for evacuation.”

Josie laughed. “I’d have to agree. I’ve weathered a few nor’easters since I’ve lived here, and they were enough to make me think this little island was going to get blown off the map. But some of these houses have been here for more than a century. Like the house up ahead. It was built in 1883. It’s for sale, so I toured it during an open house. It’s just amazing. If I only had a few hundred thousand, I could own a piece of island history.”

Tucker looked over the grey-shingled house raised off the ground by squat, brick columns. A tire swing hung from a solid though twisted-looking oak tree in the grass-covered front yard.  “Not worried about ghosts?” he asked with a grin.

Josie looked at him like he was still twelve. “Oh geesh, there are no such things as ghosts.”

Embarrassment crept up from his collarbone to his cheeks. Usually picking up women was easy for him. Why did this one shove him all the way back to puberty?

Josie smiled at him. “Sorry if I burst your bubble.”

“No, I was joking. Making conversation.”

“You have to make conversation?” She chuckled and pointed to a path. “Here’s our turn. The beach isn’t too far. And the walk is gorgeous. See those flowers?”

Tucker looked down at the white sand. Clumps of yellow and red flowers were scattered among the sea grass.

“Farther up the islands, they call that Indian Blanket. Here on Ocracoke, they’re Joe Bells. Legend says Joe Bell came to the island to mend a broken heart, and he brought the flower with him to remind him of his lost love. Now, they grow all over the place.”

“So, this is where to go to mend a broken heart too? Seems the island is good for a lot of things.” Tucker muttered as he allowed Josie to take the lead down the narrowing path.

She asked, looking over her shoulder, “Still making conversation, Mr. Boone, or did you come here to heal a broken heart?”

Tucker grimaced, but didn’t offer an answer. Thoughts of his ex brought a bead of sweat to his brow and a hole in the pit of his stomach.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. When they arrived on the shore, Tucker had to take a minute to absorb the vastness of the place. He’d never get over the rush he felt when he saw the ocean. White sand and sea green water topped in foam-tipped waves that spread as far as the eye could see. Above that was a porcelain blue sky dotted here and there with thin, wispy clouds.

Josie set her beach bag on the sand and kicked off her flip-flops. As she dug a sheet out of the bag, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to pry back there. Whatever, whoever, broke your heart is none of my business.”

He took a corner of the sheet and helped her spread it out. Then he sat, knees bent, with hands busy snapping bits of dried sea grass scattered around him.

She sat next to him, cross-legged, and turned toward him as if getting comfortable for a long story.

“No one broke my heart,” he said, glancing at her a moment and quickly turning his gaze back to the sea.

“But someone hurt you?” Josie asked quietly.  

His heart sped up as he turned to her.  She looked certain, like she would know if he lied. “I was engaged to a girl from my hometown, but it didn’t work out. Seems being in college and having your guy overseas was too lonely.”

“Lonely for her?” Josie’s forehead wrinkled.

“That’s what she said. Anyhow, we broke up, which was fine. I’m fine.”

“But you don’t seem fine.”

“Seriously,” Tucker said, looking back to the water. “I’m fine.”

Josie leaned closer to him. “You sure it’s over? Maybe you’ll get back together?”

“No chance of that,” Tucker said. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. He stood. “I say we check out the waves.”

Josie didn’t budge. She sat, the wind moving through the curls on her head. He could see himself in her sunglasses. He wanted to pull them off so he could only see her. Turning away, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Josie said. “I hate it when people get in my business. I don’t know why I’m doing it to you. Come on.” She jumped up and grabbed his hand. “Let’s hit those waves.” 

His legs felt like lead. Thoughts of Holly physically wore him out like he’d been on night patrol. Josie laid a warm hand on his cheek. Her thumb caressed the bit of whiskers he hadn’t shaved since yesterday. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You want to go back?”

“Oh, hell no. I came to swim. I’m swimming.” He plastered a smile on his face and threw his towel on the ground.

Giving him a silent smile, she went about stripping down. As she unbuttoned her shorts and slid them down over smooth, creamy legs, Tucker forgot all about his ghosts. Mindful not to ogle her, too much, he took a deep breath and looked away. When he turned around, she was in nothing more than a pink bikini. Breasts not too big or too small, perfect amount of soft flesh teasing from the edge of her suit. He almost said, “Wow”, but he didn’t think she would appreciate it as a compliment.

Pulling his tee shirt over his head, he tossed it on the ground. She gave him a double take. A satisfied grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, especially when a blush crept across Josie’s cheeks.  He knew she knew she got caught.

Heading toward the crashing water, they moved quicker and quicker until they were running. It felt good to feel free as a child. The soft dry sand yielded to the pressure of his feet then became almost as firm as concrete where it had met the water. The firmly packed sand barely left a trail of where their feet landed. The first splash of rolling waves brought squeals from Josie and a deep belly laugh from Tucker. A few yards out, the water was swifter and deeper than what he was used to along the Atlantic mainland. He didn’t have any problems navigating the harsh waves, but Josie was much smaller, her legs not nearly as well-muscled.