Chapter Four

“You’re on in a few moments,” the friendly student assistant said to Callie.

The TV station had been delighted about the idea of asking for information on a cold case, and Callie had been dragged through makeup, received some instructions on how to look best on camera, and studied her lines, all while listening to Quinn’s advice, calling Iphy to tell her to watch the show, and trying to keep Biscuit out of mischief. Fortunately, everybody seemed to love the perky border collie and was willing to keep an eye on him while she would be on TV.

The station had a daily live lunch program where people could call in with questions and ideas, and Callie’s appeal would be a part of it.

“Walk over there, please, and take the seat,” the assistant said. “Remember to keep your chin up, and don’t mumble. Speak clearly, as if you’re addressing a crowd. You don’t have to speak up, since you’ll be mic’d, but pronouncing everything clearly is very important.”

Callie nodded. Her tour guide experience had to come in handy now. Still, she had never been quite so nervous.

“Three, two, one—and you’re on!”

“Hello, viewers.” Callie tried to smile as if she was perfectly at ease. “My name is Callie Aspen, and I’m from the Book Tea tearoom in Heart’s Harbor. On the Fourth of July, we’re organizing a tea party at Haywood Hall, in cooperation with the Heart’s Harbor Historical Society, to celebrate the rich history of our little town. Volunteers from the Society will show how life on the coast has changed across the centuries, and exhibition dance group Swing It! will demonstrate how Golden Age dance contests pulled crowds to our beautiful Cliff Hotel.

“You can have your picture taken with an authentic forties fighter plane from a private collection and learn more about Heart Harbor’s own World War Two heroes. There will also be a sweet tea competition to celebrate family recipes, so if you have an old family recipe for the best sweet tea in the region, then bring your creations to the celebration, where they will be judged by an expert panel. The winning sweet tea will appear on the menu at Book Tea during the summer season, and the winner can bring five friends to an exclusive high tea at Book Tea. So dig through your recipe books and surprise us on the Fourth.

“But first, we need your help with something special. During our research into Heart’s Harbor’s illustrious past, we came across an unsolved mystery—something that made waves at the time and is still an intriguing story. In August 1989, TV star Monica Walker traveled here to stay at the Cliff Hotel. As a beloved member of the cast for the successful TV drama Magnates’ Wives, she wasn’t just an actress, but a celebrity that garnered attention wherever she went.”

Callie shifted her shoulders ever so slightly. “Therefore, it’s all the more remarkable that Monica Walker disappeared from the Cliff Hotel, from Heart’s Harbor, and wasn’t heard of again. There have been persistent rumors that she left with a man she loved, to start a new life. We’d like to find out where Monica Walker is today. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could tell the people of our town that she lived happily ever after with the man she loved? The man for whom she gave up her glamorous life? If you know anything at all about Monica and her stay in Heart’s Harbor in 1989, please contact us via email or phone.”

She then gave the relevant contact information and ended her appeal with a heartfelt thanks to the public.

The assistant smiled at her. “Well done. You’re a natural.”

Callie rose from the seat. “Maybe, but I’m glad it’s over.” She felt her blouse sticking to her back. Her palms were covered in sweat, which she tried to remove by rubbing them together. This call for information was just the beginning. What would happen now?

She walked over to Quinn, who squatted, patting Biscuit, who didn’t like to be indoors. Or maybe the bright lights and bustle unnerved him?

Quinn looked up at her. “I still think we should have given a special email address, not the address from Book Tea. Who knows what cranks might respond to this call?”

Callie hitched a brow. “If you think it’s dangerous, you should have said so.”

“I said to use a separate address or a prepaid phone, but you didn’t want to.”

“I don’t see why I can’t give the Book Tea address, since I just told people on air that I’m from the Book Tea team in Heart’s Harbor.” Callie held Quinn’s gaze. “What do you know about Monica Walker that makes you so careful?”

“Nothing. I’m just helping you with this Fourth of July thing.” Quinn shrugged.

A young man came running up to them. “Our phones are ringing off the hook!” he yelled. “People want to know if we’re going to follow your quest to find the truth. They seem to want a TV show about it or something. Updates via social media maybe?”

“Not a chance,” Quinn said, cutting him off. “We’re going to do this very discreetly to protect the people involved. Once we have some results, we will, of course, share them. But we’re not going to turn it into a media circus.”

“I have to agree with Quinn there,” Callie said quickly. “And we should be on our way now. Thank you for giving us time on the air.”

She pulled at Quinn’s sleeve to have him follow her.

Outside, Biscuit scratched in the grass, lifted his head to the skies, and yapped.

“I don’t like being locked up either, boy,” Quinn said, with a smile at the border collie.

Callie said to him, “You better drop me off at Book Tea and then get to the cottage to start on the repairs. Look after Biscuit for me, and I’ll be by later in the day to bring you some food and see how you’re coming along.”

“If you get an invite to a meeting,” Quinn said, “with a witness in the disappearance, you’re not going without me, are you?”

“Of course not. Now let’s get back to our normal lives. I doubt that we’ll hear anything relevant right away.”

*   *   *

Back at Book Tea, Callie found her great-aunt on the phone, writing down something the caller was telling her. Iphy gestured that she would be with her in a minute, and Callie shrugged out of her thin coat, hung it on the rack, and headed into the kitchen.

She had barely washed her hands and poured herself some coffee when Iphy ran in. “Take this before another call comes in.” She pushed three sheets full of dense handwriting into Callie’s hands. “Some people didn’t want to say their names or contact information, so you can’t call them back. Oh, there it goes again!”

She ran off to tend to the ringing phone.

Callie stared in mute surprise at the paperwork in her hands. She began to read at the top of the first sheet. “ ‘Caller doesn’t want to give his name. Saw dark car on the coastal road. Woman behind wheel, blonde like Monica Walker. Car at high speed. Reported to the police. Never took any action.’ ”

She pursed her lips and read the next entry. “ ‘Mr. Miller is certain he saw Monica Walker two years after her supposed disappearance, while on holiday in Florida. She was on the beach with a small child. He went over to her and said, “Monica Walker?” The woman immediately picked up her child and fled.’ ”

Hmm, maybe just because she thought he was trying to come on to her?

Callie quickly read most of the information on the first sheet, which consisted mostly of rather vague sightings of blonde women or suspicious vehicles that didn’t strike her as particularly relevant after all that time had passed, when the door into the kitchen burst open and Falk appeared on the threshold. “Are you out of your mind?” he barked at her.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Callie said sweetly, holding the sheets behind her back. “Is something up?”

“Yes, you could say that. You appeared on regional television, asking for information in a cold case, just handing out your contact information as if it’s nothing and—”

“I’m preparing a Fourth of July festival about highlights from Heart’s Harbor’s history. Most people already know that. It’s been in the paper and everything.”

“Not connected with an unsolved crime.”

“Crime?” Callie tilted her head. “So you’re sure Monica Walker disappeared against her will? If she left of her own accord, it’s hardly a crime.”

“She went missing. A missing person is also a matter for the police, not for everyday citizens.” Falk rested his hands on his hips. “What am I going to do about this?”

“I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” Falk’s eyes shot sparks at her. “You think you’re solving an old case for me?”

“No. I’m keeping an eye on Quinn. Jamison asked me to. He said you wanted that too.”

“Why would I want that?” Falk looked completely confused.

Callie gestured at the kitchen table. “Please sit down so I can explain it to you. Coffee?”

Falk made a gesture of surrender with both hands and sat down. “You thought you were helping me?” he repeated cynically.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Callie poured coffee for Falk and topped up her own mug, then sat opposite him. She explained how Quinn had turned up at her cottage the other day, offering his help with the repairs and the Book Tea party. How he had brought her to the newspaper archives that morning and had drawn her attention to the Monica Walker case.

How they had visited the Herald’s offices and gotten into an argument with the editor-in-chief, Joe Jamison, after which she had returned to Jamison’s office alone, to offer her apologies for Quinn’s behavior, and Jamison had told her a thing or two about the old case, asking her to look into it and keep an eye on Quinn and report back on his movements.

“He said you also wanted that,” she concluded. Adding silently to herself that maybe, just maybe she should have checked that with Falk before she believed it and acted on it.

Falk threw his weight back against the chair with a sigh. “It’s true that I don’t trust Quinn Darrow. He turned up at Peggy’s house, offering himself to do chores for her.”

Callie watched Falk’s tight expression. “And?”

“And nothing. He did the chores, she paid him, he kicked a soccer ball around with the boys and left. But she was kind of … I think she liked him.”

Callie leaned her elbows on the table. “You dislike Quinn because Peggy liked him?” She had noticed before that Falk was rather protective of his widowed sister and her kids, but this was taking it too far.

“How do you even know she likes him? I bet she didn’t tell you that.”

“No, she never tells me anything. Neither do you. I look like an idiot when the other deputy tells me you’re on TV.” Falk grimaced.

Callie felt a flush rise to her cheeks. “It was all rather spur of the moment, and I thought you knew about it.”

“You going on TV?”

“No, that Jamison had asked me to keep an eye on Quinn to find out what he wants in Heart’s Harbor with the Monica Walker story.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.” Callie leaned forward. “Did you or didn’t you know about that?”

Falk seemed to consider his answer.

“Come on, don’t be so reticent. Just tell me what you know,” she urged.

“All right. Jamison gave me a call and complained about a guy who came to his house and did chores for his wife. Over coffee, he asked her questions about how long they had lived here, talked about what a beautiful town it was—you know how those things go—and while he was at it, he managed to turn the conversation to the year 1989 and Monica Walker’s disappearance. Now Mrs. Jamison is kind of talkative, and she told him a thing or two about her husband having been so proud of investigating the case. Jamison told me, rather upset, that he wasn’t proud of it at all, but that his wife had loved to hear highlights of his career, and he might have mentioned it to her in a certain fashion—”

“To impress her?” Callie ventured.

“Exactly. They were dating at the time, so he must have felt like he had to win her over or something. Now Jamison has asked me to look into this Quinn character and find out what he’s here for. I can’t just check on people at will. Although I was tempted since he’d also been to Peggy’s.”

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t check out Quinn?” Callie tilted her head. “You were tempted, but you didn’t succumb?”

Falk took his time staring into his coffee mug.

Callie shook her head. “You did check. Come on, ’fess up. What did you do?”

“I called the Cliff Hotel to ask about possible fraud with credit cards. We’re looking into some instances of it—a sure thing in summer, you know. I mentioned Quinn claiming that he had paid for something with a credit card that might be suspect. The receptionist told me at once that Quinn had paid cash, in advance, for ten days.”

“Wait a minute!” Callie stared at Falk. “Quinn told me he was camping.”

“No, he’s not. He’s staying at the Cliff Hotel.”

“What? But to me he pretended like …” Callie was confused, running her finger over the tablecloth. Quinn had suggested he was living a simple life, staying at the campgrounds, eating out because he didn’t want to cook macaroni and cheese in a pan. Now it turned out he was staying at a luxury hotel, where he could eat a four-course dinner every night, with fine wines from the hotel’s famous wine cellar.

Falk said, “Why would a man check into a hotel and pay cash, in advance? It sounds to me like he’s ready to leave at any moment, should some kind of problem occur.”

Callie couldn’t deny that. “But let’s suppose that Quinn is here for a reason. He’s looking into the Monica Walker case. Why doesn’t he just investigate any leads on his own? Check the newspaper archives, meet with people, ask questions. Why did he agree to help me with the Fourth of July party, and why did he consciously steer me to the Monica Walker case?”

“There are two very good reasons for him to do that.” Falk leaned heavily on the table. “First, he wasn’t getting anywhere with his own investigation. Yes, he can check newspaper archives, but he won’t learn much new from those. And if he asks questions, people might not want to answer or might not consider the topic interesting enough. Now that a TV station is asking for information, people are eager to share what they know.”

Or what they think they know, Callie thought cynically, remembering all the useless observations Iphy had scribbled down for her on those three sheets she was hiding under the table.

Falk continued, “Quinn knows that he’ll get a lot further if he can engage locals to do the digging for him. People like you, they trust you. And besides, Book Tea has a solid reputation. He can just lean back while you get him whatever he needs.”

“Needs for what?”

“I have no idea. He could be a journalist or a writer working on a book about Monica Walker.”

“Could be.” Callie clenched the sheets in her lap. “Why didn’t you warn me when we were at the library? I mentioned to Quinn that we could look into Monica Walker. You already knew Quinn had been to Jamison’s house about it, so why not tell me not to get involved?”

“Because you mentioned going to the Herald’s offices to ask Jamison for help. I knew he didn’t trust Quinn, so I was certain he would dissuade you from pursuing it further. How was I to know that Jamison, of all people, would tell you to go through with a call for information? It doesn’t fit at all with his earlier anxiety about the Monica Walker story getting stirred up again.”

“That’s true.” Callie sighed. “It’s all very odd. And what’s the second reason Quinn would use me to help him?”

Falk held her gaze. “You won’t like this one.”

The concern in his eyes put ice in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

“His other reason for letting you ask for information is that he knows there’s danger involved. He’s worried that someone won’t like him digging into the old case and might take some kind of action. By using you as the face of the campaign, he ensures that any violent response won’t find him.”

“You mean, he set me up as a target?” Callie asked, her heart pounding.

“Possibly. Either way, I’m not keen on him staying in town. I could ask him to leave.”

“If he’s a paying guest at a local hotel and just going about his business, you can’t make him leave. You know that, he knows that. Besides, don’t you think it’s interesting that Jamison asked me to keep an eye on Quinn? Why? If he’s so sure the case was a dead end in 1989 and can’t be solved anymore, why does he even want a new call for information to go out?”

“Maybe he wasn’t sure at the time, and he never got over it. Maybe he thinks there can still be a resolution.”

“He did mention to me he had proof that Monica lived, so maybe he believes we can actually find her,” Callie said.

“Proof? What proof?”

“He didn’t tell me. I had the impression it came from a source he’s protecting.”

“Someone in town?”

“Maybe. He didn’t say. I guess he feels uncomfortable about Quinn digging and discovering he’s known about it all along. I guess he hopes the source might now also come forward with this proof, and the case can be solved without him having to admit he knew more about it for all those years.”

Falk shook his head. “I should go talk to him immediately and force him to tell me what he knows.”

“He doesn’t have to tell you anything. Besides, if he believed that Monica is somewhere alive and well, he didn’t break any laws. He didn’t hold back information that could solve a crime. There never was any crime if she left on her own. In any case, the call went out, and I can’t turn it back. People called the TV studio, and they’ve been calling here.”

“Yes.” Falk emptied his mug. “I heard the phone ring while we’ve been sitting here. Nonstop. How is your great-aunt going to work if this keeps going?”

“It will slow down, I suppose.”

“Just don’t go to a meeting with a supposed witness alone.” Falk turned the mug around between his hands. “The new mayor is determined to get the town back on track by not allowing for any kind of irregularities. If he got wind of me going after a visitor to town because he happened to do some chores for my sister, it might cost me my job.”

Callie’s eyes went wide. “You have a reputation for doing an excellent job. Why would he be able to fire you?”

“I used an ongoing investigation to look into Quinn while I knew deep down he had nothing to do with the credit card fraud. I was using my work for a private matter. That was wrong. I knew it the minute I did it.”

He looked at her. “But now you’re involved with this Quinn character too, and I feel like …”

Callie’s hear skipped a beat. What if Falk got into trouble, even lost his job because he was trying to protect her? “You shouldn’t do anything that can get you in trouble. Okay? I know how much you love your job. I can take care of myself, honestly. I won’t go meet people on my own. Besides, I don’t think we’ll dig up anything of special interest at all, so you can rest easy.”

Falk didn’t respond. He was studying her with a probing look.

Callie pressed, “Please don’t cross any lines for me. It really isn’t worth it. I mean, your job is so important to you.”

Falk turned away from her and left the kitchen without saying goodbye. She wasn’t sure what was eating him, but he seemed different from the way he had been in December.

Or had she just been fooling herself, believing he liked her? Was he just a good cop and a man who cared for the people in the town, without attaching any special meaning to her or their connection?

Had she forgotten that he had barely responded to her emails as she had been getting ready to come out and live here? And when they had finally met again, he had asked right away if her stay was temporary.

Maybe he had hoped it was—just another holiday, seeing each other as friends, then they’d each return to their own lives again?

She shook her head with an impatient sigh. What Falk thought or wanted didn’t matter. She had to refocus on handling the call for information about Monica Walker.

Most of all, she had to make sure she wouldn’t get caught up in whatever game Quinn was playing here in Heart’s Harbor, getting friendly with people, lying about where he was staying, what he was up to.

Thing was—and it gave her a chill to think about it—she was afraid that she was caught up in it already.