The costliest renovations are on things you can’t see like plumbing and electrical.
—HAMMER GIRL BLOG
Sheriff Burchell’s office was located in a building built in 1895. Ellie nodded to the receptionist, who motioned her back to his office, a musty-smelling room with greenish-gray paint that would have fit right in with its original color. The old wooden bookshelves were battered as well and held a picture of the sheriff and his deputies receiving some awards along with a picture of his wife, Felicia.
Burchell rose from behind his desk. “You been sleeping at all?” His dark-blue eyes missed nothing, and she knew he had to see the dark circles under her eyes, even behind her glasses. She felt like she’d been tossed against ocean rocks for the past forty-eight hours, but she held her shoulders back as she shook his hand, then settled onto the worn chair across from him.
“Not much. I hope you called me down here to share good news.” Mackenzie’s body hadn’t surfaced, which meant Ellie had managed to hang on to a slight thread of hope on her sister’s fate, even though logically she knew the chances of finding Mac weren’t good.
He stroked a long, seventies-style Elvis sideburn. “I wish I had better news. We do have preliminary confirmation that the blood is Mackenzie’s; at least it’s the same blood type. We ran all the fingerprints we found at her house and on the ship but came up with nothing other than hers and known friends or family members.” He cleared his throat. “Including Jason’s prints.”
She ignored his comment about Jason. The sheriff couldn’t seriously suspect Jason. “No unaccounted for hair or fibers or anything?” What she knew of forensics came only from TV and movies, but she desperately wanted some hint on how to find out what had happened to Mac.
He shook his head. “We’re still looking at those things. We seized her computer, but nothing seems relevant to her disappearance. It’s all university business as far as we can tell.”
“Could I take a look?”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t think that would be helpful, Ellie. I’ve got my best detectives working on it.”
“Maybe a student took her.” It was a long shot, and she knew it even before the sheriff raised a brow. “You never know.”
“For what reason?”
She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “I don’t know.”
The sheriff was doing all he could, but maybe Mac’s coworkers would tell her things they were reluctant to tell the sheriff. It was worth a try.
Her muscles ached from lack of sleep as she rose. “I’ll let you get back to work. Please let me know if you hear anything.”
“Will do.”
The university where her sister worked was on the outskirts of town. Ellie found her way to her sister’s office and swallowed hard when she saw the yellow police tape across the door. Across the hall was the break room, and she should be able to find some of the other professors there.
Ellie yanked open the door and stepped into the room flooded with sunlight from the big windows overlooking the parking lot.
Two women and a man seated at a break table together looked up. Darcy rose first. About forty, her short, round figure implied softness that was missing in the sharp hazel eyes under red hair that owed most of its color to a bottle.
She embraced Ellie, and the lavender scent she wore enfolded her as well. “Ellie, I don’t know what to say. We’re all grieving.”
Ellie clung to her for a long moment. “I’d hoped to find you all here. I still can’t believe it.”
“We can’t either.” Darcy pulled back, and her hands moved to grasp Ellie’s shoulders. “What can we do to help?”
“You’ve been looking for her like the rest of the town has. I think that’s all we can do now.” People had come by the house with food and hugs, and she’d seen searchlights out every night since Mac disappeared.
Penny Dreamer had been waiting her turn to greet Ellie. In her fifties, her hair was pure white, and she had chiseled features and clear blue eyes. Mac had always called her the Fairy Godmother because of her calm, helpful manner. She’d been widowed for ten years and had two grown boys. Her students loved her, and she’d always said she never wanted to retire.
Darcy stepped back and let Penny grab Ellie. She closed her eyes as she sank into the comfort of Penny’s embrace. The woman could hug like nobody’s business, and she always smelled of lemon and frankincense essential oils. Inhaling the aroma could calm a charging bull.
Ellie’s eyes burned, and moisture forced its way past her determination not to cry. Crying always made her glasses fog up. She swallowed and pulled back, then dug in her purse for a tissue. It was hard to talk past the lump in her throat. These women loved Mac fiercely.
She glanced at the man, Isaac Cohen, who taught government and politics classes. He wore an impeccable navy suit that enhanced his black wavy hair and dark eyes. Mac had been interested in him when she first started teaching at the university, but he hadn’t been interested in her. They had become good friends, though.
He reached out and took her hand. “I haven’t been able to sleep from worrying about Mackenzie. She’s a special person.”
Ellie squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
Penny pulled a chair out from under a long table holding computers and equipment. “Sit down. Want some coffee or anything? Darcy brought in donuts, and they’re still warm.”
Ellie shook her head. “I haven’t been able to choke down more than tea and toast.” She waited until the teachers pulled out chairs opposite her and settled. “The sheriff said he talked to you.”
They looked at each other. Darcy shrugged but didn’t say anything.
Penny bit her lip and shook her head hard enough that her white bob bounced against her cheeks. “They have to find out who did this. The deputy took her computer and everything.”
“So she never said anything to you that might explain who could have hurt her?”
The teachers all shook their heads.
“All I knew about was her breakup with Dylan. He said she’d been a little paranoid about him and thought he might be watching her,” Penny said.
“I forgot to ask the sheriff if he’d talked to Dylan. Maybe he knows something.”
Penny put her arm around her. “I wish we had some sort of clue to share, but there’s nothing.”
Ellie’s throat thickened. “Thanks. I’d better go.” She fled the building before she could burst into tears again. No amount of crying would find her sister.
A car drove slowly past. Was that the same black Taurus that had driven by her after her tires were slashed? She stared at it, but the tinted windows prevented her from seeing anyone inside. It probably wasn’t even the same one.
She’d hopefully figure that out, but first she’d call the sheriff and ask him about Dylan. Maybe he’d attacked Mac in a rage.
Grayson couldn’t count the number of times he’d passed the stately Georgian mansion called Tidewater Inn. Its status as the boutique hotel in the area was well deserved from what he’d heard, though he’d never had an opportunity to stay there. When he approached the front door, his stomach roiled as he caught a whiff of the shrimp boil going on at the beach in front of the hotel.
What would he say to her, that woman who claimed to be his sister? He’d waited several hours to come, and even now he couldn’t quite process it all. An earthquake. No matter how hard he tried, any memories of something that traumatic refused to surface. Nothing much existed for him before playing on the beach in Okinawa with palm trees and impossibly green mountains looming in the distance. According to his parents, he’d been three when they moved there. He and his sister had spent a lot of time splashing in the warm Pacific Ocean waters.
He at least owed the woman the courtesy of hearing her out. And apologizing for his rudeness earlier.
He opened the door and stepped into the inn’s lobby area. No one manned the reservation desk. “Hello?”
A pretty woman in her early thirties stepped through a door. Her light-brown hair was up in a ponytail, and her amber-brown eyes smiled at him. “Hello. I’m Libby Bourne. Checking in?”
He recognized the name as the inn’s owner, Alec’s wife. “I’m looking for Shauna Bannister. I’m Grayson Bradshaw.”
“Alec’s friend! It’s good to finally meet you.” Her smile widened. “Shauna and her husband are taking a walk on the beach. They just left, so you can probably catch them on the way to the pier.”
“Thanks.”
He exited into the sunshine and headed down the dunes to the water. The scent of saltwater wafted to his nose. If he’d looked toward the water when he got out of his SUV, he probably would have seen them. He kicked off his sandals and dug his toes into the warm sand. The beach always soothed him.
He inhaled and squared his shoulders as he moved toward the pier. His long legs ate up the distance quickly, and he spotted the couple strolling hand in hand toward the sinking sun. Should he call out to them or just hurry to catch up?
He decided on the latter option. The last thing he wanted was for her to fix those expectant eyes on him and watch him approach. The thick dunes made jogging difficult, so he veered toward the water and picked up the pace on the packed, wet sand.
He slowed when he got five feet from them. “Hold up a sec.”
Shauna and her husband—was it Zach?—stopped and turned. Her face lit up when she saw him, and her lips curved up in a welcoming smile. Were those tearstains on her cheeks? The husband maintained a warier expression, and Grayson couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t been exactly welcoming when they’d approached him.
He dropped his sandals to the sand and stopped about three feet from them. “I, uh, talked to my parents. What you said about the earthquake appears to be true.”
Her green eyes acquired extra light. “They admitted they got you after the earthquake?”
He nodded. “Dad had always wanted to tell me, but Mom wouldn’t let him. I’m still trying to process it all.” He looked her over better. “We don’t look much alike. Where’d I get all the blond in my hair?”
“Mom used to say a fairy left you under a lily pad. No one else in the family had your hair color, but those recessive genes played out, I guess.”
“How old were you?”
Her lips curved in a tender smile. “Eight. I remember you well.”
That would make her thirty-three. The sea breeze freshened and brought the squeals of boaters with it. He tried to think of what to say. Did he ask about his birth parents now or what? He had no idea what the proper etiquette was when you found out your whole life was a lie.
Zach’s wary expression softened. He shrugged off his backpack and dug out an old quilt. After spreading it on the thick sand, he settled on one corner and patted beside him for Shauna to join him. “Have a seat, Grayson. This could take a while.” Shauna sat beside her husband with her knees tucked under her.
Grayson settled as far away from them as he could on the farthest corner. “I need to apologize for before. I was rude.”
Shauna shook her head, and a stray lock of black hair swung against her cheek. “I should have called and given you some warning. Or sent a letter explaining it all. It’s no wonder you were shocked.”
“That’s no excuse for how I acted. I’m really sorry. You seem like a nice person, and I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”
She shot a quick look at her husband. “Nothing that isn’t easily forgiven.”
He studied her face and wished it brought back a memory of some kind. All he could dredge up was an uneasy sense of familiarity. “So, what happened exactly?”
“We were with our pregnant mother at a grocery store in Lavender Tides, Washington.”
“I’m heading to that area tomorrow to investigate some missing cocaine. The Coast Guard base where my investigation will center isn’t far from your town.”
She smiled. “We’ll be back in another five days. You’re welcome to stay with us. Or at my house that’s sitting empty since my son, Alex, and I moved in with Zach. Alex is five, and he will be over-the-moon excited to have an uncle.”
Would it be a terrible idea to get to know her better? And he had a nephew. The blows just kept coming. “Thanks, I’ll think about it. Go on.”
“There was a play area in the store, and you and I were having fun. Then everything started to shake and rattle. The ceiling caved in, and we were trapped for two days. Our mother went into labor and delivered a baby girl I named Brenna. Mom died. You were having a lot of trouble breathing after we were rescued, and they took you away. I was told you died. Brenna too. Our dad said you’d both died.”
Tears glimmered on her lashes, and she sent her husband an appealing glance. He took over the tale. “We recently found out that your dad didn’t think he could take care of three kids with your mom dead. He never tried to find you and Brenna. I talked to one of the CPS workers and found out what had happened to you. So here we are.”
Pressure built in his chest. His father had just turned his back on him and forgotten his existence? “I see.”
Shauna rubbed her forehead. “It was a terrible thing he did, but I hope you can forgive him. He was an alcoholic, and he’s dead now. I’m sure you had a better life with your parents than I did with him.”
Grayson wasn’t ready to examine how he felt about his abandonment. “What about Brenna?”
Zach shook his head. “I haven’t been able to find a trace of her yet, but we’re not giving up.”
The guy really seemed to love Shauna.
Grayson hated hotels, and the thought of digging into the mystery of his beginnings held some appeal. “I think I’d like to take you up on your offer. I’d hate to intrude on newlyweds, so staying at the empty house might be the best idea.”