Chapter Four
Daylight came too soon.
Linus woke at five-thirty to see Farley’s face nose to nose with his. He noticed the dog’s familiar tail-wagging and antsy dancing in place. Still half asleep, he dragged himself out of bed. After stumbling to pull on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, he led Farley through the kitchen and toward the back door.
While the dog took care of business outside, he headed for the coffee machine before realizing that he had forgotten to set the timer and prep the coffee the night before, something he routinely did.
He removed a filter from the cabinet, placed it in the basket, removed the bag of ground coffee, measured out the right amount, and pushed several buttons to get it going.
He scrubbed his hands down his face and waited. The lack of sleep, coupled with a handful of vivid nightmares, had left him drained, his mind foggy with fatigue. He had made progress with his searches, though. He’d discovered enough that he could share with Lake when he saw her at lunch—that is, if he didn’t get called into work.
When he heard Farley thump his body against the door, signaling he was ready to come back in, still barefoot, he went over and opened the door.
“You need a doggie door,” Lake muttered as she stood back to let Farley go in first. “Like today.”
Linus stared at Lake, who wore an ancient, faded denim jacket over a pink and purple flowered dress. She wore a pair of well-worn brown ankle boots with daisies stamped in the leather. “What are you doing here at this hour? Did you ride your bike?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I do have a car, you know. I saw Farley in the backyard, so I came around this way. I’ve always thought knocking on someone’s back door was somehow friendlier. Don’t you think?”
Without waiting for an answer, she followed the dog into the kitchen. She looked down at Linus’s bare feet before handing him a paper sack and a Thermos. “I brought breakfast—egg and cheese biscuits—I figured paramedics with a dog probably get up early. I wasn’t wrong.”
“I already have coffee brewing,” Linus stated.
“Not this kind,” she said with a grin, holding up the Thermos. “I use a dark roast, perfected by blending it with just the right amount of creamer. I wasn’t sure if you used sugar—I don’t—but you can adjust the taste according to how sweet you like it. Where are your cups?”
Linus frowned at her cheerful attitude this early in the day. He was also slightly befuddled and doing his best to keep up with her chatty dialogue. “I don’t take sugar in my coffee. The cups are over the coffeemaker.”
“Excellent.” She went over and took out two of his largest mugs.
“How long have you been up anyway?” he asked as he filled Farley’s dish with fresh water before scooping out dog food from a plastic bin.
“Since five. I’m an early riser,” she explained as she opened the Thermos and poured a light-colored liquid into each mug before handing one off to him. “I did some research last night about that bridge south of town and wanted to tell you about what I found. It’s had weird things happening there going back to the 1950s—eerie encounters, police reports about strange sightings, missing women.”
“I read about some of those incidents. But I didn’t see anything that far back or anything about the police getting involved. I did see a slew of women had gone missing, though.”
She nodded and took a seat at his kitchen table, digging into the bag she’d brought, then removing the two biscuits she’d wrapped in foil. “Missing women seems to go hand in hand with the phenomenon I uncovered. I bet you didn’t take your searches up a notch to the next level, like delving into all the paranormal activity out there. Sofia wasn’t the only female who reported a stranger showing up out of the blue and helping them escape the clutches of their attackers. And Gabby isn’t the first woman who disappeared from that area. There’s a definite pattern. Not only that, but I don’t think the rogue cop story has any merit. I’m not trying to diss your mom’s theory about Rick Hackford. He was a sleazebag for sure, but I don’t think Hackford has anything to do with attacking or kidnapping women, him being dead and all.”
Linus was still trying to take in all this information. Overwhelmed, he took a sip of her special java and groaned in approval. “Wow, oh, that’s good stuff, strong, yet silky smooth.”
“I know. I asked Murphy to stock this specific brand of beans from a Bay Area roaster that specializes in exotic imports. I tried this Vienna roast on a trip to Sausalito to visit my aunt. She’s the one who first ordered it at this little coffee shop she took me to, and I loved it right away. I couldn’t believe it tasted so smooth without the carbon-smoky flavor that leaves an aftertaste. It’s a sweeter version of Turkish, which I guess is why it doesn’t need sugar.”
He should’ve known she’d find an exquisite wake-up juice. “But I thought you were frugal. This coffee has to be pricey stuff.”
Lake shrugged. “It’s a couple of dollars more a bag. It’s fair to say I’m careful with my money. But just because I avoid paying five bucks for a shot of espresso at Paula’s coffee shop or brown bag my lunch every day doesn’t mean I don’t have my vices. I do splurge on three things—my dogs, my garden, and my coffee.” Having made her point, she unwrapped her biscuit and took a bite. “Not bad. I made these from scratch. Try one.”
He bit into the fluffy biscuit with an even fluffier egg and couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks. This is good.”
Lake’s lips curved at the compliment. She took another sip of her coffee. “I’m glad you like it. The way I see it, a good breakfast will help us tackle what happened to Gabby together.” She leaned in closer, her expression growing more serious. “We need to dig deeper into the other disappearances, Linus. There’s something bigger going on here, something beyond what we initially thought.”
“Exactly,” Linus said, his mind fully awake now as he pondered their next step. “I’ll need my laptop for this. Be right back.”
Lake watched as he headed out of the room and down the hallway. She stared over at the books she’d given him still on the counter. When he returned a few minutes later, he’d put on running shoes and held his already open laptop cradled in his arms.
He sat across from her, quickly typing in keywords into the search engine, looking for any additional background about the bridge and the strange occurrences surrounding it.
But Lake seemed to already have the information stored in her head. “That bridge is historic because it was one of only three concrete archways finished in 1938. It’s the only coastal bridge in the county. Two hundred feet long and only two lanes across, the harbor below consists of marshland and dunes. The sandy beach along that stretch receives some strong waves. Erosion happens frequently. But in all its years, the bridge has never flooded once, not even during the powerful El Nino of 2015 and 2016 when others in the state did. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s built over water that rarely rises. The Chumash used to refer to that area as Fire Harbor. Do you know why?”
“No. But you’re definitely going to tell me, right?”
She grinned. “A thousand years ago, when the Chumash lived along the coast, a certain coral reef grew in the shallow waters of the harbor. Deep orange to red in color, it’s extinct now, but the Native Americans thought it resembled sticks on fire or fire sticks. If that’s not enough of a reason, it’s an area where orange and red poppies grow wild every year. Tourists stop and take pictures, especially in the spring, like now. But back in the day, the Chumash were the first ones who referred to that area as Fire Harbor, loosely translated, that is.”
“You’re like a walking encyclopedia.”
“More like a geeky nerd who spends a lot of time in the Chumash Museum. As I see it, that makes me the town’s coolest librarian. Getting back to the first missing person. That occurred in 2008 when a young model by the name of Joely Harrison went missing on a trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles. She never made it to her mother’s home in Baldwin Park. Her mother reported her missing four days later after not showing up at all. They found her car abandoned further south near a cutoff. The first harrowing account from a survivor that I could find dates back to 2009 and Sally Kent. Sally was a would-be actress from Scotts Valley who had spent the day in Santa Cruz shooting a commercial. She reported that a mysterious stranger stepped in to save her from a man who had pretended to be a cop. Her would-be abductor had flashing lights on the front of his SUV and held a shiny, official-looking aluminum ticket holder. But get this, he wasn’t wearing a police uniform and didn’t behave like a cop.”
“That sounds like what happened to Jimmy’s cousin,” Linus said, leaning back in his chair. “Why did I even need my laptop? You obviously remembered all that from your research. What? On top of all your smarts, do you have a photographic memory or something?”
She lifted her shoulder. “Or something. You never asked me a thing, you just ran out of the room to grab your computer and put on shoes. The point is, the 2009 encounter with the stranger who actually saved her from the phony cop could be attributed to Scott Phillips.”
“Yeah. The timeframe works. But Scott isn’t exactly the focus, is he? Why couldn’t he save Gabby Moreland? Tell me that.”
“I don’t know. Eight other women have disappeared recently. And by recently, I mean in the past ten years. That goes back to 2014. Before that, another six reported that a stranger saved them. As I see it, we’re looking at eight Scott couldn’t save and six that he did. That’s not a bad percentage when you think about it.”
Linus nodded, savoring the rich flavor of the Vienna roast. “I could use another cup of this.”
“I’ll let you have what’s left in the Thermos.”
“Now I feel greedy.”
“It’s okay. I’ll need to leave soon for work anyway. I didn’t really intend to stay this long. In and out—that was my plan. I was supposed to leave you both biscuits.”
“I don’t mind sharing,” Linus said, laying his hand on hers. “You have a way of swooping in with your infectious energy like you did last night with those text messages. Those got me charged up about Gabby. I discovered that I couldn’t let it go. Today’s my day off. I thought I’d spend some time delving into all these disappearances, starting with the first one Scott couldn’t save.”
“Joely Harrison. But there are other victims to research. There’s Joanna Hawkins in 2014,” Lake provided. “Then there’s Amanda Jenner in 2015, Gail Pinter in 2016, Cillia French in 2017, Maggie Dover in 2018, Susan Crawford in 2019, Britney Parks in 2020, and Keri Davis in 2021. With the exception of Joely, all the women were from Santa Cruz.”
“And then Gabby in 2023, who was from Pelican Pointe. One a year. Weird stats for a serial killer.”
“Not really. In between those women who went missing, somebody tried to abduct six more and failed,” Lake supplied. “We should probably start by tracking down Sally Kent and talk to the rest about their experiences.”
“Along with Sofia ten years ago,” Linus added. “I could get her email address or phone number from Jimmy.”
“Definitely. But I want to know why no one has talked about this over the years. Shouldn’t this be the stuff of front-page headlines? Last night, the reporter didn’t even mention the other missing women at all. I find that odd…and sad.”
“Same here.”
“You should also talk to your mom and see what she has to say about all these missing women.”
After gobbling up breakfast, Farley wandered over for some attention and pushed his nose into Linus’s hand. He responded by scratching the dog’s ears and cuddling his head. “I need to check on Mom anyway. I also plan to stop by and talk to Chief Cody about Gabby.”
Lake made a face. “I know I suggested that. But are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m not sure I’d poke the bear. Brent Cody seems resistant to amateurs sticking their noses into his investigations. On the drive over here, I remembered something Brogan Cole told me. Chief Cody doesn’t even like it when Lucien tries to help. That’s one of the major reasons Cody hired the new guy from Seattle, just so people would stop interfering.”
“Good point,” Linus reasoned. “I’d heard that rumor at the hospital. Doctors and nurses are notorious for gossiping. I guess I haven’t given it much credence until now. What would you do?”
“I wouldn’t go to Brent with a lot of speculation about Scott saving women on the bridge. It sounds far-fetched when you bring up a ghost saving people. Even though that’s what I think is happening, I don’t think Chief Cody would appreciate it. And I wouldn’t let on that I intended to look into Gabby’s disappearance or murder if that skull does indeed belong to her.”
Linus looked uncomfortable. “I sort of already left a message with Eastlyn for him to call me.”
Lake winced. “Then I’d consider coming up with another reason for the call. Maybe you just wanted to follow up, find out if they—meaning the forensics team—found any more bones yesterday at the site.”
“I’ll go with that one,” Linus decided. “After all, I’m the one who found the skull and part of the ribcage. It’s a reasonable question.”
“There you go.” Lake glanced at her watch and stood up. “I need to get moving. I’m never late opening the library.”
“Okay.” Linus got to his feet. “Why don’t we go out tonight—for dinner? Anywhere you like.”
“Hmmm. Sure. Margie at the Diner has a Friday night fish and chips special that’s only five-ninety-nine.”
“I think I can do better than fish and chips. Unless that’s what you want.”
“I’d order Margie’s veggie plate with cornbread. You can’t beat the price at $3.50. Will I see you at lunch?”
“Absolutely, if I don’t get called in to work before then.” He snuck a look at the watch she wore on her left wrist with a blue band. “Is that Cinderella on the face?”
She laughed. “It is. It has a US Time stamp on the back. My dad gave it to me when I was little for my seventh birthday. He found it at a thrift shop. Marigolds are sort of drawn to old things.”
“It keeps the correct time?”
“It keeps perfect time,” Lake said with pride. “Sometimes it needs a new battery. For that, I go to the watch shop in San Sebastian. Text me if you find anything interesting about the disappearances. Oh, and I should probably mention that it looks like it could rain.”
“Okay. That might cancel our picnic, though.”
“We’ll improvise. I have a rainy-day backup place.”
“Of course you do.”
After Lake said goodbye to Farley, Linus noticed how quiet the house seemed. He couldn’t help but feel as though a chunk of himself had simply walked out the door with her. It seemed amazing to him the way she’d jumped right into the idea of going after a mystery, sort of like a puzzle to solve.
When the doorbell rang, Linus thought it might be Lake again. But opening the door, he saw his mother standing on the porch. “You’re out early.”
“Martha Beaumont tells me you finally made a move on the librarian,” Annette announced as she barreled into the entryway.
At sixty-six, Annette Canfield wore her silver hair cropped short. She’d stopped coloring it after her husband died. Widowed for five years now, she’d vowed to anyone who would listen that once her one and only true love had passed on, there was little chance that she’d ever remarry again. Standing just over five feet, Annette had a spitfire attitude and a quick wit. A former retailer with a savvy, sunny saleswoman’s disposition, she had racked up a long, thirty-year career in the women’s department at Macy’s in Hayward.
Despite that sunny disposition, she could be a tad overbearing and demanding at times, especially since her recent heart issues had worried both mother and son. As her only child, her bond with Linus ran deep. Always had. While he’d been overseas, she’d worried herself silly until he’d told her, after four years, he was coming home to stay.
For the next dozen years, as a paramedic, she’d seen him morph from that easy-going kid she’d raised to a quiet, often thoughtful male who avoided making impulsive decisions. His two nerve-shredding tours in the war had changed him. These days, Linus Canfield was a careful man who didn’t do things on the spur of the moment, including putting the moves on Lake Marigold.
She knew Pelican Pointe didn’t exactly offer her single son the nightlife he sometimes needed, but she had hoped that one day he’d find that special someone and settle down, maybe give her a few grandkids along the way before her time was up.
“Sheesh. How do you know that already? Lake barely left out of here five minutes ago. I really wish you and Mrs. Beaumont would stay out of my private life.”
“Oh, don’t be such a fussbudget. Martha and I are both happy as clams that you finally made your move. Now start working on bringing Lake over for dinner. Do it, Linus. I’ll give you a week to make your case. She’s pretty, smart, and she’s funny. What more do you want? Get on with it.”
“I don’t need dating advice, Mom,” Linus insisted.
“Oh, really? Says the man who finds a way to sabotage every relationship.”
He tried for patience, knowing that living two streets over, she would likely have found out eventually about Lake. “Jess and I weren’t right for each other, and you know it.”
“Of course, I know it. I’m the one who said that you can’t move in with someone who’s already complaining about what you do for a living.”
“Look, just because you and Mrs. Beaumont think you’re always one step ahead of me in the rumor mill department doesn’t mean you both shouldn’t be ashamed of yourselves for butting in.”
“If you’d tell me these things first, I wouldn’t have to hear them from Martha,” Annette refuted.
He had never truly understood just how close the two women were until now. “What do you want me to do? Send you a play-by-play of last night before going to bed. We had dinner. That’s it. Instead of being so pushy, how about letting things play out for once, letting nature take its course? Or you could just butt out altogether. That’s the second option. I like that one best. Yeah, tell your friend if she could just butt out of my life and stop spying on me, that would help.”
“What’s the big deal about inviting Lake over to the house for dinner? It’s a natural progression in any relationship.”
“Not this soon,” Linus argued. Was it wrong to want to savor their budding romance a little longer without interference from anyone? “Look, chill out, okay? If I make a move too soon, Lake might run the other way. Is that what you want? Our relationship is brand new. Since last night new. Get it? Give me time to work my way up to bring her to dinner.”
“Fine. I’ll give you a week, Linus. One week. Then I’m inviting her myself. I know you. You’ll take forever. It isn’t like she’s a stranger. I see her every time I go into the library. She’s good at her job. She’s outgoing. She helps everyone who comes in there. I like her. Don’t mess this up. If the last few weeks have taught me anything, it’s that I don’t have years to wait.”
Linus draped an arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the kitchen. “Come on, Mom. You’ll live to be ninety. The doctor said so. How about a nice cup of decaf for your heart and a bowl of oatmeal?”
“I don’t want to wait until I’m ninety to have grandkids. And since I’m not dead yet, I’ll take a regular cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs.”
Linus knew arguing with his mom wouldn’t get him anywhere. His only defense was to change topics. “What do you know about all the missing women who disappeared on or around that bridge south of town?”
“If women are going missing, two words,” Annette replied as she rounded into the kitchen. “Serial killer. You think the latest one, this Gabby Moreland, was taken by a serial killer?”
“I don’t know. But since I was the one who found the skull yesterday, Lake and I were thinking about digging into Gabby’s case. There’s speculation the skull could belong to her. I was thinking you could tell me everything you know about the rogue cop you told me about after you moved down here. What else do you know about him?”
Annette went to the fridge and took out a carton of eggs. “Rick Hackford was his name. I got my information about him from Martha, who has lived here for forty years. She told me that before Hackford died in 2019, he was known for stopping women, just women mind you, on or near the bridge, flirting with them, and then asking them to drive underneath the bridge so they could have more privacy. You know what that means, right?”
“Yeah. Are you scrambling eggs? Because I’ve already eaten. Lake brought me breakfast.”
Annette’s lips curved. “That sounds promising—her bringing you breakfast. See? She isn’t dragging her feet.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it. She wanted to tell me about the missing women. That’s all.”
“Are you sure that’s why she stopped in?” Annette asked, sending him a sideways look.
“Could we focus, please?”
“Well, if you insist. But think about it. Can you imagine getting stopped by a cop like that on a lonely stretch of road when you’re by yourself with nowhere to go and not being able to figure out how to get out of that situation? If you ask me, Hackford was the worst kind of cop.”
“Wait a minute. Hackford died in 2014. That was ten years ago. Eastlyn told me that. If that’s true, he couldn’t have been the guy who started the string of disappearances. In Lake’s research, she discovered that they began in 2014 with Joanna Hawkins. Odd that this started the same year Hackford died, though. And there’s another earlier woman who went missing—Joely Harrison.”
Annette stared at her son in disbelief. “Hackford could be responsible for that one.”
“Maybe.”
“But if he didn’t take them, then it really could be a serial killer living in town and hunting in the area. Women within fifty miles of here should be warned. Somebody should say something.”
Linus held up his hands. “No, Mom, you can’t repeat any of what we just talked about to anybody, especially not Mrs. Beaumont. You can’t. Okay?”
“Why not?”
“Because so far this is nothing but speculation, nothing more. I need to do more digging before going full throttle into serial killer territory. You don’t just toss out words like serial killer without some sort of proof.”
He thought about his call to Eastlyn and understood now why Lake had told him not to say anything to Brent. “You don’t want your only child looking like an idiot with the cops, do you? Plus, the media would have a field day with that kind of rumor. I’d probably lose my job with the county. Understand? This is a big deal. Promise me you won’t say a word about this to anyone.”
“Oh, all right. But what if Martha brings it up? She’s not stupid. She watches the news, too, you know.”
“Mom, if you want me to bring Lake over for dinner, do not mention serial killers to Martha. Got it?”
“Fine, no serial killer talk.” She narrowed her eyes at him and drilled a hole in his chest with her finger. “But you should know I’ll be expecting an update on this thing you have going on with Lake.” She held up a hand when he started to protest. “Don’t even suggest I butt out. You’re my son and I love you. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t have a vested interest in your love life? This time around, I’m not sitting on the sidelines. I’ll meddle just enough to make sure you’re happy before I die. If grandkids should come along in the process, all the better. Do we understand each other?”
“Okay. You can meddle a little but don’t interfere.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Discreet is my middle name.”
Linus raised an eyebrow not liking the sound of that at all. “Discreet might not be the first word that comes to mind when I think of you.”
She waved off his comment with a dismissive gesture. “Details, details.”
“Seriously, Mom, remember that Lake and I are taking things slow. We’re still figuring things out.” He paused for a moment, just thinking about Lake. “But I’ll tell you one thing, Mom. She’s something special. I’ve never met anyone like her before.”
“Oh, I can see a sparkle in your eyes that hasn’t been there before now. But what is it about your generation that wants to take things so slow?”
“Don’t start,” Linus cautioned.
“Yes, but you’re either jumping into bed together too soon or moving at a snail’s pace. There’s no in-between. At the rate you’re going, I’ll never live long enough to see a single grandchild.”
“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
Annette ignored the question. As she cracked the eggs into a bowl and began whisking them vigorously, she decided she needed to feel Lake out in person and see if this sparkle was mutual. She made a mental note to stop by the library sooner rather than later.
She glanced at Linus sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop. As she poured the eggs into a skillet, she decided she had a sneakier plan. If these two could put their heads together to solve several murders, they could certainly forge a deeper bond. And that she could definitely facilitate.