Beach Thriller(22)

Holly walked carefully across the wet planks of the boardwalk toward the wooden staircase by the pier. She descended the stairs to the beach, calling out to Jade. Rain had turned the soft sand unyielding, while clouds obscured the moon. The ocean stretched out before her like an endless black carpet. The rumble of stones tumbling under the churning water reminded her she was alone in a gathering storm, exposed and vulnerable.

Sips of light from the streetlamps on the boardwalk allowed Holly to see the outline of the sturdy pilings that held up the pier, casting deep shadows beneath.

She stepped under the towering structure, the tangy smell of the sea growing stronger, brine mixed with some kind of decay, life and death sharing space. She took out her phone; her flashlight’s faint illumination told her the bulky shapes in the sand were nothing but clumps of seaweed.

Discouraged, she readied herself to leave, rethink her plan. She shut off her phone light, and that’s when she saw it: a tall, narrow shadow in the sand looming behind her. The shadow moved, coming closer. She spun around, almost losing her balance as her feet sank into the sand. For the second time that day, Holly felt the urge to scream, but her voice abandoned her.

A lanky silhouette, decidedly male, inched toward Holly like a cat stalking its prey. Holly stood rooted to the spot. Fear filled her lungs.

He was right there, a few feet in front of her—no longer a shadow, but a man with a recognizable face. Her eyes opened in alarm. It was the busker. His thin frame and pinched features were as unmistakable as the scally cap he wore. He even had his guitar case slung over his shoulder.

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone else on the beach in this weather,” he said in a nasal voice.

A wave crashed hard, like a thunderclap.

“I know who you are,” he continued. Even in the half-light, Holly could see his eyes narrow. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

Holly retreated a step. “I’m looking for someone, a girl,” she said, her voice faltering. “She’s about seventeen. Have you seen her?”

The busker closed in. “All I see is you—and I’m telling you, you’re not welcome here.”

Holly bristled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll call the police if you come any closer.” Her high-pitched voice betrayed her panic. She had good reason to be afraid. She was under the pier, out of sight, and far from everyone.

The busker’s eyes darted to the cell phone in Holly’s hand. “You can call the police if you want, but you can’t trust them. You can’t trust anyone in this town—including me.”

Holly tried to unlock her phone, but the rain rendered her screen unusable. She wiped the screen against her jeans in a frantic effort to dry it off.

The busker continued his approach.

Holly turned to run, but her feet lost traction on the slippery sand—and down she went. She threw out her hands to catch herself, only to land hard on a rock. Pain shot up her wrists. Her phone skittered away. She scrambled after it, gritty sand filling her mouth.

Behind her, the busker laughed contemptuously, sounding like he was right in her ear. She braced for something terrible, then felt hands on her shoulders, gripping her hard and pulling her to her feet.

“Back off, motherfucker. That’s my friend you’re messing with.”

The voice was as familiar as it was shocking. The last thing Holly expected to see was a soaking-wet girl, weighing about a hundred pounds, holding a glinting knife. But there was Jade, who had lifted Holly up and now stood beside her, confronting the busker. The crazed look in her eyes said it all: She was a small dog with a big bite.

The busker threw up his hands in surrender, backing away. “Hey, hey, I didn’t do anything wrong,” he squeaked before scurrying off into the dark.

Holly turned and wrapped Jade in an embrace, not caring that she was coating her in wet sand.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said, breathing hard. “Come back to the house. Your mac and cheese is getting cold.”





Chapter 14

Jade




I would have stayed out all night like an alley cat, scrounging for food and shelter, but Holly assured me there’d be no more cops. It’s hard enough running without also being chased. I came all the way here on a mission. I’m not going to abandon it now.

Once my stomach is full for the first time in ages, and we’re settled in the living room, I decide to show Holly the inscription on the back of my pendant. “I wasn’t exactly honest with you about why I picked Beauport,” I say. Holly doesn’t act like that’s breaking news.

“I found this in my parents’ dresser. I never saw my mom wear it, but it was packed away in a special box, so it must have meant something to her. I took it as a sign that I should come here. I want to find the store that sold it and see if they can tell me anything about it.”

That’s mostly true, I rationalize.

“And here, look.” I hand Holly the stone that I’ve kept in my pocket since it was broken off. “I need to get it fixed, and I’m hoping the store that sold it can also do the repair.”

Holly makes the connection. “It’s a jade.”

“Exactly. I’m guessing it was meant for me—a gift my parents were never able to give me themselves. I don’t know—they aren’t around to ask. But it’s weird, right? This was in their drawer, never worn. The box was faded, so I figured it wasn’t a recent purchase. It comes from Beauport, which I’d never even heard of, and the stone has the same name as mine. Maybe it’s nothing, but it feels meaningful.”