Chapter Three

 

 

Friday, June 11

11:00 a.m.

 

It was hard not to stare at the victim’s family. Their shock was still palpable, their grief still raw. But it was how each member of the Carlson family dealt with the pain that made Elise blink back her own set of tears.

Mr. Carlson, who tried valiantly to be the rock his family needed, kept a protective arm around his wife throughout the service, providing a shoulder for her to weep into time and time again. Yet that same strong shoulder was unable to disguise the emotion he experienced at the priest’s reference to Susie as “Daddy’s little girl.”

Mrs. Carlson looked down at her hands often throughout the service. And after a while, Elise finally figured out why. A small photograph was clutched in the woman’s left hand; a photograph, Elise assumed, depicting Susie.

Despite a chin that was dipped downward, the youngest of the Carlson children repeatedly peeked at her sister’s mahogany casket from the corner of her eye, the disbelief in her young face finally giving way to a tortured sob that echoed through the church.

“I would like to invite Michael up to the altar to share a few words about his sister.” Father Leahy stepped out from behind the lectern and extended his hand to a young man with auburn hair and tear-filled eyes.

Elise recognized Michael from the photograph she had received at work. It had been evident to her even then how close the two seemed to be and her heart broke for him. Choking back tears, she watched him struggle to gain enough composure to speak to the crowd of people who had come to pay respect to his dead sister.

After what seemed like an eternity, the young man began to speak. “I’ll never forget the time when I decided to pick on someone in my class because all my friends were.” The quiver in his voice was unmistakable, causing sniffles and soft crying sounds to emerge throughout the church. “When I got home that day, I felt a little guilty about what I had done. I told Susie about it and she told me something that has stuck with me ever since. She said that it’s easy to tease along with everyone else. To jump on the same wave everyone else is riding. But it takes a bigger person—a stronger one—to stand up and say it’s wrong.”

Elise grabbed her purse and fished out a tissue. It was becoming harder and harder to swallow over the lump that was growing in her throat. She thought about her own high school years and the teasing she had endured for being a goody two-shoes. If only she had come across someone like Susie Carlson, maybe she wouldn’t have had to doubt herself so much.

“It was like that all the time with Susie,” Michael continued, his hands gripping the sides of the lectern as his eyes rested on his parents. “I was terrified to go to high school. It seemed like such a big place after grade school. Most of my friends were switching to the public school so I felt really alone. When I got to school that first day, Elise and her friends made room for me at their table just so I wouldn’t have to eat lunch by myself. How many big sisters would do that for their kid brother?”

Elise looked up at the ceiling of the church and steadied her breathing. If he didn’t stop talking soon, she was going to start sobbing. She could feel it coming. Counting to ten in her head, she forced herself to think of something, anything besides the young man’s heartbreaking words. But when she reached the last number, she realized Michael had grown silent.

She looked back at the altar in time to see the now college-aged boy point to a young girl in the third row.

“Maureen, you’ve been Susie’s best friend for as long as I can remember. She truly loved you with her whole heart.”

Elise saw the corner of the young woman’s mouth turn upward in a trembling smile, only to reverse course and give into heart-wrenching sobs. Swiping at the tears that made their way down her own face, Elise willed herself to stay strong as the first few notes of the closing hymn reverberated their way out from the organ.

She tried to sing along with the familiar words, but her voice sounded weak and raspy. Instead, she watched Susie’s loved ones as they followed the casket down the aisle, grief etched into the face of everyone she saw.

When the procession finally made its way to the back of the church, she grabbed her handbag and headed for one of the side exits. She had to pull it together if she was going to be able to interview anyone.

As she stepped out into the brilliant sunshine, she came face-to-face with the town’s new mayor, Steve Brown. His closely cut hair had obviously been black at one time, as a few reminders of his youth peeked through the silver that virtually covered his entire head. Piercing brown eyes searched and examined every face that passed. The pictures Elise had studied of him prior to their first meeting at the town hall hadn’t done justice to the commanding presence he emitted in person.

“Good morning, Mayor Brown.”

“Good morning, Miss Jenkins.”

She reached into her purse and retrieved her notebook from its depths. “Would it be possible for me to get some sort of statement from you on Susie’s murder?”

“Certainly. The entire community of Ocean Point is grieving along with the Carlson family today as they prepare to lay their beloved daughter to rest. What a horrible shame this all is to her parents.”

“Thank you, Mayor.” Elise scanned the crowd, looking for another quote. She could feel the lump in her throat dissipating as she focused on her work.

Her eyes fell on the town’s police chief. With several quick strides she found herself face-to-face with the tall uniformed man she had seen only in pictures.

“Chief Maynard, I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Elise Jenkins, the new reporter for the Ocean Point Weekly.”

The tall, burly man smiled and extended his hand. “Welcome to Ocean Point, Elise. I wish your first week could have been a bit calmer.”

“That makes two of us.” The grin that stretched across her face felt good. She only wished that the Carlson family could smile again soon. “I was hoping to get a statement from you about the Susie Carlson murder.”

“Sure thing, Elise. What happened to Susie Carlson this week is unforgivable, and we will work day and night until we’ve found the person who committed this horrific crime.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

“May I add one more thing?” At her nod, the chief continued. “I would like to point out that this crime, although a first in Ocean Point, is one very good example of why we could use some more police officers on the beat. We are a town that relies on our summer tourism quite heavily, and it would be very shortsighted of us to risk that much-needed income because we don’t want to properly staff our police department.”

Elise jotted down the chief’s comments then noticed that he was looking around the church grounds, as if searching for someone in particular. When he found who he was searching for, he shot his hand upward in a beckoning gesture.

Sure enough, a man Elise judged to be about her own age stepped through the mingling crowd and headed in their direction. She tried not to gawk, but it was hard. The man was more than a little attractive . . .

“Elise Jenkins, I’d like you to meet the detective in charge of the Carlson murder investigation—Mitch Burns.”

“Detective Burns.” She bridged the gap between them and offered her hand while her eyes finished their visual inventory. Mitch Burns was handsome, of that there was no doubt. His eyes, which were a shade lighter than the brown of his hair, widened to showcase the tiny flecks of gold that danced along with the smile she saw creeping across his face.

“Ahhh, Miss Jenkins . . . I’m sorry for being so short with you on the phone yesterday. I really appreciate you holding out on that initial call until after I had a chance to come up for air. Unfortunately, when you did call, I think I may have let all of the week’s stress run rampant in my voice. Sorry about that.”

She was surprised at how glad she was to hear the detective’s apology.

“I understand. I really do. But I hope you understand that I’ve got a job to do, too.”

He nodded his head in what appeared to be a gesture of appreciation and then excused himself curtly, saying only that he had to head back to the station.

For some reason she was disappointed to see him go, yet couldn’t ignore his on-again, off-again personality. Just when it seemed as if the ice was breaking, he froze up again. Men.

Shaking her head, Elise made her way across the top edge of the parking lot. Thanks to the mayor and the chief, she had the official quotes she needed for her article, but official didn’t always translate to human. Those aspects could only truly come from people who knew Susie well.

Like the young woman sitting on the steps of the church as the pallbearers placed her best friend’s casket into the waiting hearse . . .

With tentative steps, she approached the grief-stricken woman. “Maureen, right?” Elise smiled gently as the young woman lifted her tear-streaked face. “My name is Elise Jenkins, and I just started work as a reporter for the Ocean Point Weekly.”

The girl nodded without uttering a word.

“I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am at your loss. My best friend, Celia, died when we were in high school and it was one of the most painful things I’ve ever been through. It still hurts four years later.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died of cancer,” Elise said quietly, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I know that the circumstances are like night and day, but I get the loss and the senselessness of it all.”

Maureen covered her face with her hands for a moment, only to let them slide back down to her lap with a tired exhale. “I just can’t wrap my head around this. I mean, how did that woman know this was going to happen?”

Susie’s friend wiped at the fresh crop of tears that spilled over her cheeks. “How?”

“Wait. What woman?” She stared at Maureen, waiting. Seconds turned to minutes as the silence between them held, the young woman’s eyes glazing over in the process.

Realizing an answer wasn’t forthcoming, Elise opted for a different tactic—space.

“Look, I can see that you have been through enough today so I won’t keep you. But I really want to do a story about Susie that’ll give our readers a true glimpse at the daughter her parents lost, the sister her siblings loved, and the friend you treasured.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out a business card. “If you want to talk, please call.” Flipping the card over, she scrawled her home number on the back and then handed it to Maureen. “Maybe you can help me put a face with the name everyone is talking about right now.”

“I’d like that, Elise, thanks.” The girl rose to her feet and tilted her head in the direction of the hearse. “It looks as if they’re ready to head on out to the cemetery now. So I better go.”

One by one, Maureen descended the steps of the church, the exhaustion and grief she harbored in the wake of Susie’s death palpable. But it was the image of the young woman, stopping beside the hearse and dissolving into tears, that Elise knew would stay with her forever.