Chapter 70

OCEAN

Ocean stood in front of her unfinished painting, trying to focus on it instead of on CJ’s disappearance—but all she saw were flaws. She liked the excessive glossiness and specificity of the hedge, yet her attempt to suggest what the hedge concealed still escaped her.

“I mean, it’s just a shrub,” she told Riley, whom she’d dragged from her lair for a second opinion.

Riley wrinkled her nose. “You’re trying to show what the viewer can’t see?”

“Yeah. To evoke a feeling that is sort of subtextual.”

“What do you think is behind the hedge?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Riley tilted her head. “How come you’re painting on metal?”

“I want the option of displaying this outside. I’m using mural paint, too.”

“So you’re painting a super-realistic hedge to go outside where the real hedge lives.”

“Mm,” Ocean said, as her phone dinged.

“Huh. That sounds very arty.”

She was surprised by the note of approval in Riley’s voice. “What?”

“Yeah, I love it.” Riley grabbed Ocean’s phone and read her text. “Ooooh! Hamilton says the police found CJ’s phone. Some unhoused guy fished it out of a trash can at the train station.”

“Oh, no,” Ocean said, feeling herself deflate.

Riley tapped on her phone instead of responding, sending a text.

“What’re you saying?” she asked.

“‘Oh, no,’ obviously.”

She grabbed her phone back. “Did Hamilton really say ‘unhoused’?”

“No, because he’s a thousand years old.” Riley squinted at her. “So are you … y’know. Heartbroken?”

Ocean scrolled back to read the conversation. “No, we weren’t even … what do you say? ‘Talking’? Or we were talking, but we weren’t a thing?”

“Sure, Oma. What else does Ham say?”

She read aloud. “‘Sunny—guy from the parking lot—bought plasma from college students for his life-extension thing. Their blood solids. For research into longevity, according to his business model, but to inject himself according to the rumors.’”

Riley made a face. “Like a vampire?”

“Yeah, and not the sparkly kind.”

“Great reference.”

“Really?”

“No. I do like that the vampire’s name is Sunny, though. That’s deep.”

Ocean turned back to the phone. “Right. So apparently Frank—he’s the first dead guy—helped Sunny keep a lid on the scandal. Or the criminal charges.”

“So if the first dead guy was part of the cover-up, maybe the same person really did kill them both.”

“Huh. Yeah. How do you know so much?”

“I’m a natural,” Riley said, and headed inside without another word.

Ocean kept reading about the police report, thinking about all that blood. So Wheeler was strangled from behind, from inside the car. That meant he was half-dead before the guy slit his throat. Slit his throat vertically. Why?

Ocean

The killer was trying to

Maximize blood loss.

Hamilton

Do the police know what happened

to the college kids Wheeler hired?

Lily-Ann

Which blood loss?

Hamilton

Because maybe someone’s brother or

mother is out for revenge. After

transfusion gone terribly wrong.

Ocean

Sunny Wheeler’s blood loss.

The killer wanted as much blood as

possible. That explains the vertical cuts

Sophie

You know what else?

Oh, that makes sense Ocean

Lily-Ann

Yes, good point. That’s why the

killer stopped strangling and started

cutting. More blood.

Hamilton

What else?

Sophie

Who is most concerned with aging?

Other than Sunny Wheeler?

Hint: Nicholas is stuck talking to

her right now while I text.

Hamilton

Oh! Jane Sheffield. She’d pay for blood

solids to stay young-looking?

Ocean

Focus. Sunny’s killer slit his throat

to draw attention to his business.

The amount of blood is a MESSAGE.

Sophie

Oh. Yes. True.

Hamilton

So next we need to decipher what

that message means.

Anthony texted a thumbs-up and Miles shouted, “Oma! I’m home!” from the front of the cottage.

By the time Ocean got inside, he was lying on the couch with the iPad eating a bag of cheese puffs.

“You want a tangerine?” she asked.

“Yes please!”

She handed him a tangerine and removed the bag of cheese puffs. “How was school?”

He started telling her, but she wasn’t listening.

Too distracted by the murder, by the blood.

She regretted sharing any of that with Riley.

A photorealistic painting of a hedge was one thing, but talking about “blood solids”?

Badly done. Plus, she kept thinking about CJ’s phone.

That she’d abandoned her phone … or someone had abandoned it for her. She kept thinking about that.

So the second time she missed what Miles was saying, she said, “Oh! I almost forgot. Why don’t you run and ask Lily-Ann to take you to the shelter to look at cats for Hamilton?”

“Really really?”

“Really really.”

“Kitty time!” Miles sang out, as he shoved through the front door.

Ocean smiled at his excitement, but only until the screen door slammed shut.

Finding the corpse was bad enough. She shuddered at the memory.

But CJ’s disappearance hit even harder. What if she was responsible for Sunny’s death?

Ocean had introduced CJ to her kids. Could she and Mrs. B really have been so fooled by CJ?

There was only one way to find out. The Marigold Murder Collective needed to finish this investigation for good.

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