changing into that bikini, it looked like you were trying to peek at her. You’ve never seen your girlfriend naked? She moved to the other side like she didn’t want you to watch her undress. She didn’t notice I had pulled in. I’m the one who got the show.”
“So she was modest. Stop saying things.”
“Modest then, won’t bother her a bit anybody looks at her now.”
“But it bothers me. You shouldn’t speak of her in that manner. It’s not...honorable. Just keep my coat over her.” He folded and unfolded his arms again. “You know I tried to help her. You know I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Relax, it’s an accident. Like you say, she choked herself to death. Crazy way to die.”
The older man said, “My phone is in the car....”
“I’ve already called the police. Told them send along an ambulance.”
“Oh, you already called them? That’s good...I guess.” He turned away from the body and rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re not going to believe me...they’re not going to believe me.”
“You’re really sweatin’ this, aren’t you?”
“Of course I’m shaken. A person just died before my eyes. Her dead body is lying there.”
“I suppose you’ve got big deal friends, a big deal job, a big deal reputation.”
“You don’t know the half of it. You wouldn’t believe the fallout there’s going to be about this.” He tilted his head back and closed his eyes tightly.
“So take off.”
“What?”
“Go...leave. You’ve got nothing to do with this. It happened like you said. She happened to be on the beach. You happened to be on the beach. You tried to help her. That’s the way it was, wasn’t it?”
“I guess.”
“So, go. Get out of here. You don’t have to get involved. I’ll look after her. Things like this happen all the time.”
“I don’t think I should leave her. Should I go? I don’t think I should.”
“No sweat. Nothing else you can do here. Get moving the police will be here any second.”
“Then you’ll be in trouble.”
“No, they know me. I live around here. I take care of some things around here. Nothing bad happened. There’s been no crime. The M.E. will find she died of choking. Case closed.”
“The medical examiner?”
“Yeah, like on TV. Now come on we’ll walk up to your car. You leave and I’ll wait up there for the police.”
“I should take my coat.” He reached back and picked it up off the body. He paused to look down at her.
“She should have something over her,” he said. “I don’t have a blanket in my car. Do you?”
The younger man shook his head.
They reached the top of the sandy knoll and could now hear the occasional hum of vehicles going by on A1A beyond the screen of foliage. The older man stopped abruptly and pointed. “Is that your SUV parked there? Wait a minute, I saw it at that truck stop up in Jacksonville. You’re lying. You’re not from around here. You pulled out right behind us on 95.”
“Not me, buddy. I’ve been here all day. Haven’t been out of town in a month. Now you should get out of here.”
“I was certain it was your white SUV that followed us.”
“You’re saying you gave Miss Universe a ride down here from Jax so she could go to the beach?”
The nervous man didn’t answer.
“Stop talking and go.”
“I can’t leave. I won’t do it.” He wondered just how much he owed her anyway. He could stay and identify himself to the police. That wouldn’t bring her back and might destroy him. Certainly he didn’t owe her that much. “I don’t know. Will she be okay? Nothing’s going to happen to her?”
“Nothing’s going to happen to her. I’ll keep an eye on her. Now leave.”
“Well, I guess it’s all right, since the police are on the way. I truly appreciate your doing this for me. So, you’ll stay up here and wait up here until they come, okay?”
“Sure.”
Chapter Two
Six weeks later, on a too-chilly-for Florida January afternoon, Sandy Reid was studying at the well-worn oak desk in Jeremiah Kagan’s law office in Park Beach. She stuck a bookmark in
Since kindergarten, her friends had called her Sandy. The caller no doubt had read her formal name somewhere, possibly in the newspaper, although she’d been out of the news now for a couple of months. Chances are she didn’t know any Abby Olin and she had an instinctive distrust of anyone who suddenly showed an interest in her.
Catching up on old times with someone she didn’t remember held no appeal for Sandy. Although skilled at it, she considered all small talk with incidental acquaintances a bore. However, she’d transformed making small talk into one of her professional talents.
As a field investigator with a defense law firm up in Philadelphia her job had been to find witnesses who didn’t want to be found and small talk them into giving statements they hadn’t intended to give. She was particularly adept at eliciting an immense amount of often-intimate information from a stranger in a very short time, like during three minutes on an elevator.
Some other time, some other year. Perhaps when she wasn’t overloaded with law school studies and an onrushing date with the Florida bar exam, she might have time for the luxury of small talk. She wasn’t complaining about law school; she was quite comfortable immersed in her studies, if everyone would just back off and leave her alone for the next four months. Even if this Abby was a gilt-edged, ideal new friend, Sandy didn’t have the time for a new friend.
Yet the sly mention of old times hooked her. There were no old times here in Florida. With only a four-month history, she was a newcomer. Any old times had to mean up north. So the caller at least knew that much about her.
She decided to return the woman’s call partly from curiosity and partly because it meant a possible reconnection with Philadelphia, which remained an agreeable part of her.
The Abby person answered sounding pleased. “Here we are, both of us down here in Florida. We’re old soul mates from Philly, the juvenile rehab center out near the airport, remember?”
The words jerked Sandy back hard to her teenage years. She recalled having few friends while trapped in that shameful place. Of course, she was joined in sisterhood with every other teenage girl locked up there, but was too angry with everyone at that time to realize it. A rehab sister wasn’t exactly the same as a friend. Now that she thought back, she did recall having at least one friendship, but the girl’s name wasn’t Abby.
What was her name? Some young girl from the sticks. Every place between the Mississippi River and California was the sticks to Philadelphia girls. One time they had huddled together in the supply closet to avoid clean-up duty, peeking out through the crack of the door like children playing some mystery game. Sounded corny when she thought about it. The girl talked continually about her hometown in Iowa, or was it Arkansas?
Gloria it was...yes, homesick, depressed, and vulnerable. Red meat for a certain counselor. Poor, stringy- haired Gloria, a lamb to the slaughter. Sandy suffered more than one sleepless night agonizing over whether to volunteer to take Gloria’s next inglorious turn with him. He’d welcome the opportunity to get at Sandy. She considered it seriously. She could handle it; it was tearing Gloria apart. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. She
