Chapter Five
If Lake had known what Annette had in mind, it might have put her off Linus for good. But there was a benefit to being unaware. She went about her morning as usual. She fed the dogs, made more coffee for her Thermos, and checked the weather forecast. It was supposed to rain all day. That meant two things. One, she couldn’t ride her bike to work. And two, the picnic would need to be moved to an inside location. Not a problem. They could eat their lunch inside the boathouse overlooking the harbor.
After putting the finishing touches on the egg salad, she got out the wheat bread. She layered the mixture into generous heaps two inches thick before wrapping the sandwiches in cloth napkins, then adding them to her lunch box, along with two large pickles, which she put in plastic containers.
From a cabinet, she removed another Thermos, this one plaid and taller, and filled it with sweet tea. As she packed everything into a large, well-worn tote bag, the first drops of rain pelted against the windowpane. Any good gardener worth their salt never minded a nice rain shower. Lake was no exception. She went to the window and peered out at her back garden. The newly planted seedlings in the raised beds might take a beating, but she was sure the more established plants like kale and squash would be fine.
She didn’t mind rainy days like today. She would adjust to the weather.
When it was pouring out, she had to rely on her 2004 silver VW Beetle to get her around town. The car had ninety-eight thousand miles on it, most of which came from all the trips she’d made back and forth to campus at UC Santa Cruz as a student. For four years as an undergraduate who lived at home instead of the dorm, she made the fifty-minute commute to get there, sometimes seven days a week. She knew that route so well that it hadn’t taken long before the trip became monotonous. Even more so during the additional five years it took to get her Ph.D. By that time, she’d spent seven years making that trip twice a day. It was no wonder she avoided going to Santa Cruz unless it was absolutely necessary. If she couldn’t buy what she needed in Pelican Pointe, she either ordered it online or went to San Sebastian, the neighboring town to the east.
Now, as she stood in the kitchen, she realized that making that trip across the bridge, especially at night, was one of the reasons she made up excuses not to go to Santa Cruz. She had friends who still lived there from college. But until this moment, she hadn’t analyzed why she kept turning down their numerous dinner invitations or calls from friends asking her to meet up for drinks.
As she went to the entryway to fetch her umbrella, her mind swirled with memories and unspoken fears. The thought of driving across that bridge in the dark now made her nervous. It made her stomach flop, yet she couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly why.
Sure, she’d had her scary moments crossing that bridge, times she thought she’d spotted a man lurking in the woods. Other times, she’d seen the ghostly Scott standing at the bridge as if keeping guard. During those late-night encounters, she’d always step on the gas, trying to hurry across to the other side.
As she checked her reflection in the wide, full-length mirror, she saw a woman who had built walls around herself. Walls constructed out of familiarity and routine, walls that shielded her from a hurtful past, from a mother who hadn’t loved her enough to stick around, who had not so much as written a letter of concern for decades.
In her heart, Lake knew she tended to keep people—friends, colleagues, even boyfriends—at arm’s length. Was it really fear of a bridge that kept her grounded in Pelican Pointe, or was she uncomfortable stepping outside the confines of anything that made her feel closer to anyone else?
She couldn’t say that about Linus. His image popped into her head and brought a smile to her lips. He’d been so caught off guard by her dropping in that he’d looked befuddled. Funny how she’d never seen him baffled or confused until last night when she’d kissed him. She wasn’t pushing him away. At least, not yet.
The rain continued to patter against the old house as her thoughts turned inward. But one glance at her watch told her it was time to stop this moody pity party and get to work. As she dashed into the sunroom to gather her things and say goodbye to Jack and Scout, she decided it was time to confront her fears head-on. Determined to break free from her self-imposed limitations, Lake decided she would help Linus pursue answers. She would take new risks. She would venture beyond the confines of the cocoon she’d crafted to keep her heart safe. She had spent years within the safety of her routine, clinging to the familiar like a lifeline. If Linus wanted to jump into a mystery, she’d do her part.
It was a peculiar feeling, this sudden revelation. Something within her had shifted. A spark had ignited, pushing her to think outside the box. Maybe, just maybe, she had a chance to embrace the unknown with Linus at her side.
Dreading an encounter that he had initiated, Linus mulled over Lake’s information about the missing women as he stepped into the police station. But he knew something was amiss as soon as he spotted Eastlyn still sitting behind the front desk from last night’s third shift. When he heard loud voices drifting out into the reception area originating from the conference room, he understood something big had happened.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” Linus asked Eastlyn in between answering the phone. “Or are you working a double shift?”
“Double shift since seven this morning. You didn’t hear it from me but the Chief thinks we’re dealing with a serial killer. He’s in there butting heads with the sheriff’s department rep right now.”
“Sounds like it. Look, I don’t mean to bother you. By any chance did forensics find any more bones yesterday at the bridge?”
Eastlyn narrowed her eyes. “How does this kind of information get out through the grapevine so fast? The answer is yes. They found the other part of a ribcage and a foot. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“No problem. But they can’t know these bones belong to Gabby Moreland this quickly, right?”
Eastlyn leaned over the desk and lowered her voice. “Correct, but they found clothing that matched up with what she was wearing the night she went missing. Good thing you found that skull yesterday before the rain hit this morning. Brent’s called in Beckett and Birk Callahan to search the area.”
“But it’s not his jurisdiction,” Linus pointed out. “If it had been I would’ve have called here first.”
“The bridge belongs to the county, but Gabby Moreland’s disappearance is our case.”
“That makes sense. When will Beckett and Birk start their search?”
“They’re on a call up near Scotts Valley, so they won’t be available until afternoon. And with this rain, who knows when they’ll get to the bridge.” When the phone line rang again, Eastlyn rolled her eyes. “I swear you’d think people had never seen rain before. Why does rain make people crazy?” She punched the blinking light on the display and barked, “Pelican Pointe PD, Parker speaking. How can I help you?”
Linus used that as his excuse to retreat. He wasn’t about to confront Brent Cody today with everything going on.
Outside, standing in the rain, he felt a mix of relief and apprehension. On the plus side, he didn’t have to deal with Brent. But the news of a potential serial killer roaming their small town would spread like an out-of-control wildfire.
As he darted back to his truck, he knew he had to gather his thoughts and devise a plan before approaching Brent with any kind of information. And when he did, the data needed to be stellar.
The rain had brought a chill to the air. After climbing inside his pickup, Linus started the engine while Farley snuggled up to his side. He laid a hand on the dog’s back. “As I see it, we have three options. Go get a warm cup of coffee where we can stay nice and dry, or maybe hang out at the library with Lake, also staying nice and dry in the process. Or we could go check out the bridge for ourselves and see what we can find before Beckett and Birk bring in their dogs. How do you feel about becoming a tracker for about fifteen minutes?”
Farley woofed and burrowed further into Linus.
“Yep, I agree. I think we should check underneath that bridge, maybe do our own walk-through before lunch.” He studied the sky and turned on the heater, twisted the windshield wipers to the on position. “But first, we’ll need to stop by the house and get our rain slicker. Those clouds aren’t going away any time soon.”
With the rain pelting down, Linus pulled his truck onto the graveled shoulder of the road just before the bridge. He clipped the leash to Farley’s collar and slid out on the opposite side through the passenger door.
The smell of musty earth clung to him as he walked along the gritty pathway toward the spot where he’d found the skull the day before.
Standing among the wetlands, he could taste the salty air on his tongue, the thick humidity, almost like breathing in a heavy fog. The taste reminded him of the rejuvenating power of Mother Nature, a place where the water and earth merged to give birth to a diverse ecosystem.
His eyes scanned the marshland, laid out like a mosaic of greens and browns, a patchwork of boggy earth and shimmering ocean, teeming with life and, no doubt, a place that held onto its secrets. In this spot, he marveled at all the migratory birds that returned here every spring.
As he took his first step into the water-logged, spongy ground, his feet sunk into the wet, squishy earth, the vegetation yielding with each step. He could feel the cool mist from the nearby water on his face. Thick layers of mud stuck to Farley’s paws. The dog’s tail wagged, slapping against the damp reeds.
“You’ll definitely need a bath after this,” Linus muttered as he noticed the tide coming in fast and hard. “We both will. I can’t have lunch with Lake without a shower.”
Linus trudged further into the wetlands, his boots sinking deeper into the muddy ground. The drizzle turned to a harder, relentless downpour, soaking him to the bone. But Farley bounded ahead, his tail wagging with unbridled enthusiasm. Linus couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances, watching Farley splash through the shallow pools with each step.
The sound of the rain hitting the water and foliage created a rhythmic melody, drowning out any other noise.
As man and dog ventured deeper into the marshland, the landscape began to transform. The reeds grew taller and denser, blocking out the faint light that managed to pierce through the wall of rain. Here, under the bridge, the air became heavier with a peculiar scent, a combination of decay and life.
Linus’s heart quickened as he stumbled upon a twisted, gnarly willow tree, its knotted branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The rainwater dripped from its leaves in a haunting cadence. But curiosity pushed him forward, his footsteps becoming more cautious as he approached a dense underbrush.
As he ventured deeper, a peculiar sight caught his attention. Jutting out from the water was a weathered log, its surface covered in moss. With careful steps, he approached the log just as Farley let out a loud bark.
The noise made Linus jump. But there was something about the stump that made him stop and take a second look. Kneeling down on one knee, Linus reached out to touch the rough bark. A faint glimmer caught his eye—a glimpse of something metallic nestled between the moss-covered crevices. With a surge of anticipation, he delicately plucked away the foliage, revealing a woman’s gold chain clinging to the wet bark.
He stared at the necklace until realizing it had to be important. He couldn’t just leave it there. What if he could never locate this spot again? He patted his pockets for something to use as an evidence bag and took out a deposit envelope from the bank. Trying not to touch the chain, with some difficulty, he managed to get the necklace to slide into the envelope. That’s when he realized that attached to the chain was a solid round gold pendant the size of a quarter. Stamped in the design was the figure of a woman with long hair holding a flower.
Still on bended knee, through the downpour, Linus squinted up ahead. His eyes landed on underbrush so thick he couldn’t see through it to the other side.
“Time to turn back,” Linus shouted over the rain. “But when this clears up, somebody needs to chain-saw their way through that wall and see what’s on the other side.”
Getting to his feet, he decided that coming here hadn’t been a complete waste of time. He patted his jacket pocket where the necklace was. “With any luck, we’ll find out if this belongs to any of the missing women.”