Chapter Forty-Seven
Mulberry Bay’s municipal beach is tucked between the pier and waterfront park.
It’s small, with a pebbly, grassy shoreline in lieu of sand, and you have to bring your own chairs and umbrellas.
The water is more gray than blue even on a sunny, cloudless day, dotted with a few fishing boats well out beyond the roped-off swim area.
It’s been years since Kelly has spent any amount of time here, and decades since she did anything other than kick back and bask in the sun on any beach.
That’s what she was planning to do today, but she’s learning quickly that relaxation can be challenging when you have a six-year-old in tow.
Caleb questions everything in his sight line—who lives in the vacation homes around the lake, why the old sleepaway camp on the opposite shore is called Woody Lo-Hi, which kinds of fish the fishermen might be catching, how many boats can tie up to the pier, whether there’s a playground in the park, when the old houses in town were built, what mulberries taste like . . .
Sitting in chairs on either side of him, Talia and Kelly tag team on the replies until Caleb says, “I’m hot. I want to go swimming.”
Talia looks at Kelly. “I don’t suppose you want to—”
“No, thanks. Have fun.”
Talia heads to the water with Caleb, sticks a toe in, and screams, “It’s freezing!”
“Oh, come on. It’s refreshing!” Kelly calls.
“How would you know? You’re warm and toasty on dry land. Wait, Caleb, stay close to shore!”
“Don’t worry, Mommy, Aunt Kelly said there are no waves and sharks!”
“Thanks a lot, Aunt Kelly. He still can’t swim alone.”
“He’s not exactly alone, Tal’.” Kelly gestures at the hordes of people splashing around in the roped-off area. “There are lifeguards, and he seems to be a good swimmer.”
“He is. He’s always loved the water. My mom made sure of that, but—Caleb! Come back here by me!”
He either doesn’t hear her or chooses to ignore her. Good for him. It’s nice to see him loosen up and have some fun.
“Caleb!”
“Shh, you’ll embarrass him.” Kelly joins Talia at the water’s edge.
“He’s out way too far.”
“He’s knee deep.”
“Ben is supposed to be here. He’s the one who does water stuff with him. Where is he?”
“I’m sure he’s coming soon.”
“I hope so. Sometimes he gets me so . . .” She shakes her head.
“Feel like talking about it?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Kelly nods. “Don’t worry. I’ll go in with him.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know. I want to.”
“You’re the best. Thanks.”
Kelly wades in, remembering how difficult it is to navigate the slippery rocks without water shoes.
She gives up, pulls off her sunglasses, and thrusts herself into the water.
It’s bracing, but it feels good to be drenched in something other than sweat on a day like this.
She emerges, puts on her sunglasses, and floats through the shallow water to Caleb.
“Aunt Kelly! You can swim!”
“So can you, kiddo! You’re like a fish.”
“That’s what my granny used to say. She was like a fish too. She could even do somersaults in the water. I wish I could do that. Can you?”
“I used to be able to, but it’s been a while.”
“Try!”
Turns out it’s one of those childhood skills you don’t forget. She hands Caleb her sunglasses and demonstrates it for him. Pretty soon he, too, gets the hang of it. It’s nice, romping in the water like a kid again, being on the receiving end of unabashed admiration.
“Look, there’s my daddy!” Caleb says, and she sees Ben on the beach, talking to Talia.
Perhaps arguing with Talia.
Kelly can’t see their expressions, but Talia is shaking her head at him and doing a lot of talking. Hayley is nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, Daddy! Daddy! Watch this!”
Ben hears Caleb and turns away from Talia, shading his eyes with a palm.
Caleb plugs his nose and turns a perfect underwater somersault. Ben gives him a thumbs-up, says something to Talia, kicks off his shoes, and strips off his shirt.
“Hey, my daddy’s coming in!” Caleb says.
Kelly takes that as her cue to get out. Passing Ben as she paddles toward the beach, she asks, “Where’s Hayley?”
“I couldn’t get her to come. My wife is acting like I abandoned a toddler in Times Square. Can you please tell her she’s being ridiculous?”
Yeah, that’s not going to happen in a million years, Kelly thinks.
There’s no way she’s taking sides in a marital spat.
Though if she were going to take sides, it would have to be Talia’s, because .
. . solidarity. Even though when it comes to her kids, Talia might be a tad overprotective. Or maybe a lot overprotective.
Midge might disagree. As a cop, she sees the worst of what can happen when parents are negligent or kids have too much freedom.
Midge . . .
“Crap!” Kelly forgot about her car, still parked in the employee zone.
“Is that a good idea?” Talia asked when she left her purse there.
“It’s a great idea. We have enough to carry, and I don’t need it at the beach.”
“No, I mean . . . anyone can walk by and see it. What if someone steals it?”
“From a locked car in broad daylight in Mulberry Bay?”
“Are there robbers here?” Caleb asked.
“Nope, no robbers. This is the safest town ever,” Kelly assured him, having figured out that information sharing with children is on a need-to-know basis.
Kind of like marriage.
Her failed ones, anyway.
Back at the chairs, she finds Talia on the phone. “. . . but this isn’t just down the street at the Piazzas’ house, Hayley. It’s Haven Cliff!”
The beach is noisy with splashing kids, lifeguards’ whistles, speakers blasting music, but as she stands by her chair, toweling off, Kelly can clearly hear Hayley on the other end.
“So what, Mom? It’s just a house. You’re acting like it’s dangerous or cursed or something.”
And Hayley’s acting like she might know a bit about Haven Cliff’s past. It almost seems like she’s baiting Talia.
“I’m not acting like anything!” Talia tells her daughter. “It’s a strange house in a strange place where you don’t know anyone.”
“So what? I’m twelve.”
“Exactly. You’re twelve.”
“You can’t treat me like a little kid! Dad said it’s fine!”
“Dad should have checked with me first.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like being treated like a little kid either!”
Kelly pulls on her cover-up, shoves her feet into her sandals, and grabs her car keys from her beach bag. Catching Talia’s eye, she mouths, I’m going to move my car.
Talia nods at her, saying into the phone, “Dad and I make parenting decisions together, Hayley. He isn’t . . .”
Kelly walks toward the parking lot, eager to escape the domestic drama.
She may have felt a tiny pang of regret over missing out on motherhood when she was out in the water with Caleb. Now she’s pretty sure she dodged a bullet.
Two bullets. It’s her lucky day. Her car is right where she parked it—not towed away, not even ticketed, her handbag visible on the floor of the back seat.
About to climb in, she hears someone say, “Excuse me, ma’am?”
She turns to see a uniformed female state trooper, her face flushed and sweat beaded beneath her broad-brimmed tan hat.
“Oh, sorry, Officer,” Kelly says. “I was just about to move it. I didn’t realize this was an employee spot.”
Even after all these years, white lies flow easily off her tongue when she’s in a bind—not that a parking citation is a big deal, but don’t the local police usually handle that?
“Wait,” she says, “did Midge send you over?”
“Midge Kennedy? You know about the case, then.”
“I know Midge. She’s my best friend. I live here in Mulberry Bay. Which case?”
“The missing girl?”
Caroline?
What’s going on, here? Have the authorities somehow found out that Kelly, Midge, and Talia covered up her disappearance?
“I’m sorry,” Kelly says. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Sarah Greene.” The trooper holds up an iPad. “She’s missing.”
Ah—so this has nothing to do with Caroline. It must be the case Midge was working on yesterday.
“We’re canvassing the area for anyone who might have crossed paths with her. Mind taking a look?”
“Oh . . . sure.” Kelly leans in and cups her hand to block the sun’s glare from the photo of a fresh-faced, long-haired teenager. She shakes her head. “I haven’t seen her. She’s missing?”
“Since yesterday afternoon.” The woman tucks the iPad under her arm again and hands Kelly a paper flyer. “Since you’re local, can you please share this and spread the word?”
“Sure.”
“There’s a phone number there, in case you or anyone you know have helpful information. Have a nice day.”
She moves on to question a couple of passersby.
Kelly gets into the hot car, rolls down the windows, blasts the air, and scans the information on the flyer.
Sarah Greene . . . sixteen . . . last seen . . .
Bible study at Congregational Memorial!
The words jump out at her.
Does this have something to do with Caroline?
Or . . . with Bauer?
She grabs her phone and calls Midge.
She answers immediately. “Hey, Kelly. What’s up?”
“Got a minute?”
“Make it seconds. I’m driving back to my office and I’m almost there.”
“Okay, so I’m in the parking lot, moving my car, and I got stopped by a cop who—”
“Sorry, you’re on your own with this one, Kel’,” Midge says. “You should have moved it sooner, and you shouldn’t have taken an employee spot in the first place.”
“No, listen, it was a trooper questioning people about a missing girl. Sarah Greene? Is that your case?”
“Yes.”
“She was on her way to Congregational Memorial, Midge.”
“I’m aware.”
“What if Bauer did something to her too? Because Caroline—”
“Caroline was twenty-five years ago. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if he’s back.”
Silence on the other end.
“Midge? Are you there?”
“I’m here. And I’m looking into every possible angle.”
“Including Bauer?”
“Including Bauer. If you hear anything more from your pal Toby, send it my way, okay?”
“Definitely. Good luck.”
Kelly hangs up, folds the flyer, and tucks it under the sun visor.
Beyond the windshield, the sky remains blue, but a milkier shade now. She recognizes the distant shelf cloud above the mountains as an ominous harbinger.
There’s a storm coming, all right, and it looks like it’s going to be a big one.