Beach Thriller(21)
Walker sniffed the air. “Late-night meal? Once you feed a stray cat, Holly—”
Holly’s pulse spiked. “Jade is not a cat,” she said, scooping Chester into her arms. His fur remained on guard. “She’s a runaway and an orphan. Her parents died in a car accident, and she’s been living with an abusive aunt. She’s desperate and frightened, and I hope you’ll treat her with kindness. She’s been through a lot and doesn’t trust the police.”
“Most criminals don’t.” If that was Walker’s attempt at levity, his joke came without a trace of a smile.
Holly felt tempted to send him on his way. She didn’t believe she was breaking the law by allowing Jade to stay with her. But there was this thing called better judgment.
“I’ll go get her. You wait here.” Holly’s tone was firmer than she had intended. She turned her back, making her way to the stairs.
Walker called after her with the sensitivity of a bullfighter. “I’m sorry about your mom, Holly. Nice lady. She’d been through a lot. Take some friendly advice, will you? Sell the place. You can make a lot of money, go somewhere new—get a fresh start.”
Holly paused halfway up the stairs, gripping the railing. She thought about telling Tommy Boy the same story she had told Gail: The house was still in her mother’s name, so it wasn’t hers to sell. But the words she spoke surprised her.
“A fresh start is a state of mind. You can do that anywhere. This is my home now, like it or not.”
Holly called Jade’s name. All was silent. Odd. She noticed the bedroom door was slightly ajar. She knocked as she called for Jade a second time, pushing the door open when nobody answered.
The room was empty, but there was an unexpected breeze. Holly discovered the source—a partially open window. She didn’t think anything of it until she went to close it and saw the trellis. She poked her head outside. Flashes of strobe lights from the police car parked out front lit up the back lawn. Oh shit. Jade must have known the police were here, and her instincts took over.
The air felt heavy and damp. Rain was in the forecast, most likely on the way. Guilt squeezed Holly. Had she made a promise? Not in those exact words, but the meal, the shower, and a bedroom suggested a safe haven.
Downstairs, Holly found Walker nosing about, keeping himself occupied. He cased her living room like he was assessing a crime scene.
“The place could use a little updating,” he said, hovering near her grandfather’s old pipe. “I don’t think anything has changed since the last time I was here.”
“Including an unsolved murder.”
“It’s still an active case, but again, it’s not a homicide,” said Walker, running a hand along the fireplace mantel, checking his fingers for dust. “We need to follow the evidence to make an arrest. Justice doesn’t take shortcuts.”
“It shouldn’t take forever, either,” said Holly. She moved to the front door, holding it open for him, all but ordering Walker to leave. Jade would never come out of hiding if she saw her with a cop.
A light rain began to fall. Steady winds whipped up the sea like a cauldron starting to boil.
“The girl is gone,” Holly said. “I’m going to go look for her.”
“I’ll help,” offered Walker, pulling up his sagging pants.
“No thanks, I’ll go on my own,” said Holly, resisting the urge to call him Tommy Boy to his face. “You can look for her if you want, but something tells me this girl knows how to hide from the police.”
* * *
Holly kept watch for Jade as she drove toward the boardwalk. A gentle rain continued to fall, leaving streaky marks on her front windshield. Streetlights left many dark spots where Jade could hide, making her search nearly impossible, but Holly remained undeterred.
She tried to imagine where Jade would dart off to, but she was having difficulty thinking at all. The last two days had been a whirlwind—returning to the cottage, dealing with the pushy Realtor, the psychic reading, and then finding a squatter in her attic. A ghost would have been easier to handle. What Holly wanted was a cup of tea, a good idea for a book, for her mother to be alive, for the house not to be a shit mess, and for Jade to have picked another landing spot for her antics.
You get what you get …
Holly tuned out her internal whining. She had a roof over her head and food in the pantry. Jade had nothing but the clothes on her back, which would soon be drenched by the rain.
To catch a teenager, you have to think like one. Holly imagined a character in a book inspired by Jade—someone tough and resourceful who would rather be cold and hungry than turned over to the authorities.
Where would I go? Holly asked herself. A fast-food place seemed like a logical choice. But the nearest one was miles away and closed at this hour. If nothing changed, the poor girl might end up sleeping outside, even on a night like this—maybe on the beach, with no protection from the rain, which was falling harder now. Where could she find shelter outdoors? The answer came to her almost immediately: on the beach, under the pier.
Most likely, no one would notice a curled-up bundle on the sand, wood planks high above acting as a roof, offering some protection from the elements.
Holly had no trouble finding parking. Beauport was a sleepy town at night. She half expected to see Officer Tom Walker on patrol, but more likely, he had gone home or returned to the police station. He hadn’t shown much interest in Jade. In fact, Holly had the distinct impression that Walker had used the call as a pretext to check on her. But why? He had made it clear he’d love nothing more than for Holly to leave town. Was Walker worried she’d cause him trouble—ask questions about Anna’s death that he preferred not to answer?