The kayak shop sat at the edge of a bay. The water lay still and calm. A dock sat at the edge of the parking lot, jutting out atop the water, and boats sat in a rack next to it. It was now the afternoon, which Tara assumed would usually be a busy time for the shop, but today no one was around. The parking lot was empty, and Tara could only assume it was because of the storm. No one in their right mind would go kayaking today, nor would they be allowed to. She just hoped the owner would be there.
Tara’s heart sank when they reached the door and saw a closed sign hanging in the window. We’ll have to track him down now, she thought, and find where he lives. But just when the thought crossed her mind, she noticed a light on inside, and then she saw movement. Someone was by the counter.
She knocked, and the movement by the counter stopped. She heard footsteps, and soon a man emerged. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess, his Ocean Paddle shop shirt ripped and tattered, with what looked like a cigarette burn by the pocket. He looked startled as he noticed them behind the glass front door. He opened it.
“We’re closed,” he mumbled. He reeked of marijuana. Even from a foot away, it trailed up Tara’s nose in full force, but she didn’t care to bring attention to it. She wanted to stay focused on why they came.
“We know,” Tara replied before explaining who they were. She flashed her badge. “We were hoping you could provide us with some information on Alyssa White and Reese Tanner. They both worked here, correct?
His eyes shifted between her and Warren, stealthily. “Sure, what do you need to ask me?”
“Can we come in?”
He remained quiet a moment as he turned his head slightly, trying to look into the store without them noticing, as if making sure that it was indeed safe. “Sure,” he finally said as he stepped into the shop, followed by Tara and Warren. A bottle of liquor sat on the counter, and he quickly went over to it, tucking it behind the counter where they couldn’t see.
“We don’t care if you’re drinking. That’s not a crime, you know,” Warren said.
“I know…I...” he stuttered, as if cautiously choosing his words. “You’re right,” he finally said with an awkward laugh. “I don’t know why I just did that.” He took a seat on the chair behind the counter.
He was acting very odd, Tara noted. He was either guilty of the murders, or something else entirely, and she wasn’t sure what a bottle of liquor had to do with it.
“It’s a shame what happened to those girls,” he added with a shake of the head. “I’m not sure how much help I can be, but I’ll try.”
The whole shop smelled even more of marijuana than him. It was clear what he had been doing, and she could see Warren’s eyes wander around the room, trying to catch sign of anything else.
“How long did they work here?” Tara asked.
He leaned hunched over, peering at the ceiling, his lips pursed, thinking. “They both worked here only a couple of months. I think Alyssa was two summers ago.” He nodded as he said it. “Yeah, that’s right. The year before she went missing.”
“And Reese?” Tara asked.
“She worked here in the spring, which is our off-season. April and May.” He sighed. “Such a shame. They were such pretty girls.”
It was an oddly creepy thing for him to say, given that he was nearly twice their age. It also irked Tara that their looks were the first thing he thought of as why their deaths were a shame, as if that reflected their value.
“We were told they quit because they felt uncomfortable here. Do you have any idea why that would be?”
He let out an awkward grunt and suddenly stood up, gripping the counter. He hesitated a moment and then responded. “No,” he said. “I mean, like I said, they were pretty girls. Maybe they felt uncomfortable by the attention they got from customers.” He shrugged.
His incessant mention of pretty girls only drove home why Reese thought he was creepy and why Alyssa probably quit. Tara looked toward Warren. She hadn’t even noticed that he had moved closer to the entrance to a back room, next to the counter. The door wasn’t fully ajar, but Tara could see from where she was standing that it was cracked slightly, with light shining through it into the room they stood in.
The shop owner’s head shot in his direction. “Hey!” he yelled. “I didn’t give you permission to go back there.” His hands gripped the counter tighter.
“I haven’t gone back there,” Warren replied, still staring into the room. “Why, should I?”
The shop owner grew flustered, realizing he had just created suspicion. “I have a dog back there,” he sneered uneasily. “He’s uh…he’s sleeping, but he’s not very friendly.”
It was clearly a lie, and Tara knew Warren saw it too. He nodded. Warren would need probable cause to enter the room, and there was certainly something back there that the shop owner didn’t want them to see. Tara threw another question at him, helping to buy Warren more time.
“Where were you Wednesday night?” she asked. It was the night Reese went missing.
Redness seeped to the surface of his skin. Tara’s questions were making him anxious. “Why?” he asked. “I was here.”
“Did anyone else see you here?”
His nails were now digging into the wood. He thought for a moment, as if questioning what he should say. “I was alone,” he finally responded.
He had no alibi. Reese had probably walked right by this shop on the way to the beach. He was looking increasingly suspicious.
Suddenly, Warren walked closer to the back room. “Can you tell me why you have chemist’s beakers in a kayak shop?” he asked. The shop owner’s face grew bright red. Warren stuck his nose in the air, trying to catch a scent he had picked up. Tara moved closer, and after focusing on picking up the scent, she soon smelled it too. Under the lingering smell of marijuana, a potent scent stung her nose. It smelled almost like cleaning products, like ammonia. Tara knew of only one drug that could potentially carry that odor: meth.
Warren walked into the room, while Tara stood by the door frame, keeping her eye on the owner.
“Looks like someone’s been cooking meth back here,” Warren said loudly.
The shop owner opened his mouth, but he was at a loss for words to defend himself. His face grew redder, and he had now certainly created marks in the wood counter with his nail-digging grip. He stood tense, his eyes shifting between Tara and the front door. He was about to run, she could feel it. But she didn’t even have a second to react before…
He hurdled over the counter and took off, springing to the front door. Tara and Warren both whipped around as he flung the door open, fumbling for keys in his pocket. But before he even stepped outside, his foot hit the doorframe, and he went tumbling forward.
It didn’t take long for Tara to be on top of him, cuffing him and leading him to the car. He was clearly high. His reactions were slowed, but Tara didn’t suspect he was on meth. She knew enough about toxicology to know that he would be acting much differently.
Once he was placed in the car, Warren came out into the parking lot moments later. “Looks like a meth lab. I don’t know if it was all the time, though. It wasn’t a lot. My guess is he does it here when the shop is closed.”
“Did you find anything else?” Tara asked. A meth lab was not what they were searching for.
“I went through everything,” he replied. “All the drawers, all the shelving. I didn’t find too much, but I did find these.” He held out three pictures, and Tara took them. They were each pictures of one single girl. One was Reese, one was Alyssa, and the other she had never seen before. They each stood behind the counter, smiling at the camera. “Seems odd he would keep those,” Warren added.
“Who’s this?” Tara asked as she held up the picture of the third unknown girl.
Warren shook his head. “I don’t know, but I think we should find out.”
Tara nodded as they headed to the car. She had her doubts before these images, but now she wondered, could this third girl be next?
***
The shop owner sat in an interrogation room of the police station. They had already learned that his name was Timothy Morris. He had owned the shop for five years, after purchasing it from some guy who wanted to retire.
“And you cook meth out of it in your off time?” Tara questioned.
He winced. He wasn’t going to reply, but they already knew the answer.
Tara slid the images found in his desk across the wooden table. “Can you tell me why you had these?”
He looked down at them, terror flashing in his eyes. “They’re my employees,” he replied. “I take pictures of everyone that works at the shop.”
“And these are the only three employees you ever had?”
He opened his mouth to reply but then closed it again. He didn’t know how to answer. He knew how bad this looked.
“Well?” Tara questioned impatiently.
He was staring at his hands, clasped in his lap, as he anxiously rubbed them together. He looked up. “I know this looks bad,” he pleaded. “But what you’re accusing me of…” He paused, looking between Tara and Warren “That’s just crazy.”
“We didn’t accuse you of anything.”
He shook his head strongly. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re trying to pin those murders on me!” he yelled as he sat up straighter. “I just kept those photos, okay? That’s no crime. But I’m not a murderer!” He settled back into his chair.
“Tell me again where you were Wednesday night?”
He sighed, closing his eyes a moment and then looking at Tara. “I was at the shop,” he started, and then his eyes drifted off. “Doing what I was doing today.”
Tara knew what that meant; he was cooking meth. But he had already stated that no one saw him there. No one knew where he was. She asked him again.
He looked tortured by the truth as he said it. “I was alone.”
Warren butted in. “Do you have any cameras outside to show you were there?”
He perked up at the thought, realizing it might save him, but then he sat back farther in his chair in disappointment. “I have one looking out onto the boat dock, but I don’t think you’d see my car from it. The other broke a couple weeks ago. I haven’t had the funds to get it fixed yet.”
Tara sensed he was telling the truth. It was the slight hope at the realization of the cameras, and then the way hope flew away from his eyes when he knew they wouldn’t see him in them. If he was lying, then his reaction would be the total opposite of what he just showed. Anyone who was guilty would not hope that cameras caught him in the act.
“Do you remember where you were the day Alyssa went missing?” She reiterated the date.
He stared hard in the distance, his lip curling in deep thought. It was over a year ago, but Tara knew he had to have remembered. It was all over on every news station. Even Tara knew about it, and she was certain that anyone who knew the victim would remember exactly where they were when they heard the news. A sudden thought seemed to strike him. “I was away,” he replied excitedly, knowing it could be his saving grace. “In Florida, visiting my mom.”
They would have to check his alibi, but if it was true, it could be solid. However, he still didn’t have an alibi for Reese.
Tara slid the image of the third unknown girl across the table. “Who is she?”
He stared down at the picture. “That’s Lucy. She worked for me a while ago. Around the same time of Alyssa.”
“Did they work together?”
He thought a second, looking off into the distance. “Yeah, they did, actually. Not long, I think, only a few weeks. Alyssa stopped working there soon after Lucy started.”
His words only confirmed further in Tara’s mind that he was just a creep who took photos of young girls that worked in his shop. She now didn’t think that Lucy was going to be the third victim. It didn’t work in the timeline. Why would he target her now, all of a sudden, two years later? It was unlikely.
However, Tara hoped that maybe Lucy held some information. She knew Alyssa, and she worked with her, even if it was a short time.
“How can we find her?” Tara asked.
“I think I still have her number,” he replied.
Tara gave him his cell phone, and he scrolled through it before bringing up Lucy’s number. Tara wrote it down. She hoped that Lucy might be able to tell them something, and once it was in her phone, she turned to the door, ready to make the call.
***
Tara and Warren stood outside the interrogation room. A police officer had just removed Timothy Morris from the room they were just in and was now escorting him down the hall to a holding cell. Tara and Warren moved into an office nearby.
“What do you think?” Warren asked.
She could already hear the skepticism in Warren’s voice. She knew him well enough now to understand that when Warren asked that question, he had his own doubts too. Tara was doubtful Timothy was who they were looking for. He was certainly a creep, but the way he reacted at the mention of cameras did not coincide with someone who was guilty. There was also one thing in Tara’s mind that she continued to question: his motive. There was no sign of sexual assault on Reese’s body, and she couldn’t see any reason why Timothy would kill if it weren’t sexual.
“I have my doubts,” she finally admitted.
Warren nodded as he pulled a chair from a round table in the corner of the office and took a seat. Tara sat down as well.
“Me too,” he said. “The cameras, right? He seemed hopeful when he thought they might’ve caught him.”
“Exactly, and I’m not sure what his motive would’ve been.”
Warren nodded again. “Let’s call that girl, see if she knows anything.”
Tara placed her phone on the table. Her name and phone number were still showing across the screen. She pressed the call button and put the phone on speaker, centering it in the middle of the table.
The girl picked up almost immediately. It sounded as if she was just laughing at something. Her laugh trailed off as she said hello. There was a lot of background noise, as if she were at a party.
“Is this Lucy?” Tara asked.
The girl was quiet a moment as the background noise became less apparent. It was clear she was stepping out of the room. Eventually, nothing could be heard at all except her voice.
“Who’s asking?”
Tara realized it was probably a rare occurrence for a teenage girl to have an unknown adult call her cell phone. She introduced herself and Warren.
“Is this about those bodies on the beach?” she responded quickly. “You found Alyssa, right?”
“We did. Did you know her well?” Tara already partially knew the answer, but she wanted to see if their familiarity extended beyond the kayak shop.
“I worked with her one summer, at Ocean Paddle. Only a couple of weeks, though. She was cool. We got along pretty well, but I didn’t know her too well—only those few weeks.”
“Did she tell you why she stopped working?”
The girl was quiet a moment, thinking, and then chuckled slightly. “Yeah, I remember. I think the owner made her feel a bit uncomfortable. He was a little creepy. He’d always tell her how pretty she looked, things like that. He did the same shit to me.” She grew quiet again, realizing she just let a curse slip out. “Sorry,” she added awkwardly.
Tara brushed it off. Only a teenager would apologize for saying that. “Did he ever do anything to either of you? Did he ever act on his impulses?”
“No, absolutely not,” she interjected. “He was a bit creepy, but he definitely never touched either of us or anything like that. Plus, I was always there when Alyssa was there. I’m pretty certain she was never alone with him.”
They still couldn’t completely rule him out, but Tara was becoming even more certain that he wasn’t who they were looking for.
“Do you know Reese Tanner?” Tara asked.
“I’ve heard of her because of the news and everything. I never met her, though. I live a couple towns over from Dewey Beach, so we didn’t go to the same school or anything.”
“Did you know she worked at Ocean Paddle for a bit too?”
The girl grew silent again. “No, I didn’t,” she responded. “I stopped working there about a month after Alyssa.”
It was certain Lucy would never have met Reese. Reese started working there about two years after Lucy stopped. And Lucy also wouldn’t have been working there while Alyssa went missing. Tara was hoping she could at least have been an alibi for the owner’s whereabouts the day Alyssa went missing.
“Were you aware of the owner doing anything illegal?” Tara finally asked.
“Uh, no, why?”
Tara didn’t go into details. She asked if she was ever aware of anything going on in the room Tara and Warren had discovered earlier, but the girl only confirmed that the door was usually locked.
Tara thanked her, and the phone call soon ended. She looked toward Warren.
“Let’s get one of the cops to check his alibi for the night Alyssa White went missing.” He looked at his watch, and Tara looked down at her phone as well. It was now around seven o’clock, and they now didn’t have a lead. Warren sighed. “I say we head back to the headquarters and brainstorm a bit.” Tara agreed; they would have more access to information in the databases of the J. Edgar Hoover Building.
But Warren’s suggestion only made it clearer that he had his doubts as well. And if both their intuitions were right, then whoever killed Alyssa and Reese was still out there.