CHAPTER 13
At 9:10 that night, I stood in front of a shrine of sorts at Two Bobs. It was by the back deck that faced the harbor. There were pictures of Enrique, flowers, stuffed animals, and candles flickering a bit precariously. My instinct was to blow them out, but there were enough people milling about that it was safe enough. I walked up on the deck, where I could study the faces of the people looking at the shrine. Although this wasn’t exactly the scene of the crime that a criminal would supposedly return to, it was the closest thing right now.
A few people had tear-streaked faces. A man blew his nose. Some of the crowd just seemed to be curious and stood with drinks in their hands. No one had a sign on them that said I DID IT. Nothing to see here, so I went inside. The place was packed, techno music was pounding, and lights flashed like streaks of lightning. When I lived in Chicago, I hated being in bars like this, and the few times I’d been in here, I’d never seen anything like this.
I worked my way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a drink. I didn’t believe in going into a place and not ordering anything. It was almost as bad as leaving a library without a book. As I waited for a soda, which is what they called pop down here, I looked for the waitress who’d waited on Enrique and me, the one Joaquín said was crying. With the crowd and the flashing lights, it wasn’t going to be easy to find anyone. The bartender put my soda on the bar.
“On the house,” he shouted.
Bartenders often did that with soft drinks. Perhaps he thought I was a designated driver. I left five dollars for a tip. Something else I often did. Over-tipping had become a habit since working at the Sea Glass.
I moved around the edges of the crowd, trying to spot the waitress. It wasn’t easy in a crowd with me being vertically challenged. I went out on the deck on the beach side. The noise level dropped, the breeze had picked up, and I saw lightning flash out on the horizon. Ann often sat at a table in the corner, but she wasn’t there now, and neither was Dex, who sometimes held the table for her. The waitress wasn’t out there, either.
I went back in—the music was still cranked—and headed up the staircase to my left. It was quieter up here, although the floor vibrated from the music below. High-top tables were scattered along the walls. Lights were strung and blew in the breeze. There was a space in the middle for dancing, and couples swayed to soft rock that was piped in. The band Looking Glass sang about Brandy and her being a good wife. As I recalled, Brandy served whiskey to sailors, so we had something in common. Although her love wasn’t that into her. I really hoped that wasn’t the case with Rip and me.
Someone waved from one of the tables. I realized it was Leah Hickle, one of the co-owners of the Glass Bottom Boat. She was married to one of the volunteer firefighters and sat with a group of them at a table that overlooked the harbor. Rip was on duty tonight, so not among them. But my friend Smoke was. I went over and stood between Leah and Smoke.
“Want to dance?” Smoke asked after I’d greeted everyone and declined a beer. He had blue eyes that were almost violet and thick eyelashes with blond tips. Smoke’s shoulders were broad and strong.
“Oh, Rip’s not going to like that,” one of the men said.
I had to meet Ann at 10:30, but I had time for a dance before then. “Sure,” I said.
I loved to dance, and Smoke was an excellent dancer. Rip wouldn’t care. He knew that Smoke and I were strictly in the friend zone. I just hoped Smoke did. He stood, grabbed my hand, and swirled me out on the dance floor. He danced us away from the table full of firefighters, even as catcalls and comments followed us. Soon we were on the beach side of the deck, and more lightning streaked across the horizon. It was mesmerizing to watch when it was that far away.
“Are you out here nosing around?” Smoke asked.
I looked up at him. “You know me a little too well.”
“I heard about Enrique. You’re something, Chloe. Most people would be huddled in their beds crying after seeing a dead body like that.”
“Trust me, that was tempting.” Especially if Rip would have been huddled there with me. “But what good would that do?”
“I get it. Although, I’d be on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a romantic comedy on.”
I laughed. “Right. I think it would be more likely you’d be busting down doors and taking names.”
“Have you found anything out?”
“Nothing.” Maybe a couple of whispers of gossip, but that’s all they were at this point.
Smoke pulled me a pinch closer and I just enjoyed the dance.
“Would you make a good wife?” Smoke asked as Brandy played on. He pulled back a little so he could see my face.
I stuttered and stepped on his foot. Smoke saved me and whirled me around. Brandy in the song was supposed to be a good wife. Had he and Rip been talking about me? Or was he asking for himself? I hoped it was neither. “I don’t plan to find out for a very long time.” I was happy with my life. Why rush things?
The song ended, and we went back to the table. I said my goodbyes, because although I knew I’d have fun if I stayed, it wouldn’t help me figure out who killed Enrique, and Ann was going to be waiting for me. As I headed down the stairs, one of the male waiters was carrying drinks up.
“Excuse me. Does someone named Cara work here?” I asked.
“Everyone who works here is named Cara since Enrique’s been here. What’s your Cara look like?”
“Spiked, gelled hair with red tips, and uh, she’s um, busty.”
“Sounds like Cindy Reynolds.”
“Is she here?”
He shook his head. “No. She called out tonight.”
“Thanks.” Cindy. At least I had a name.
* * *
By the time I parked my little red Volkswagen Beetle in front of my house, the wind had picked up, the lightning was closer, and the air smelled like salt and ozone. Ann was sitting on my porch, blinking in the security lights set off by my driving up to the house. Frankly, I didn’t need this, even though I’d agreed to meet her here. I was exhausted. I should have stayed home from work today, but I was just too damn stubborn to admit it.
Ann looked weary, too.
“Come on in,” I said. Once inside, I disabled the security system. The two-bedroom, two-bath cement-block house sat on top of a dune. It was open concept, with the beds and baths on either side of the house. “Coffee? Pop? Water? Or something stronger?”
“Water sounds good,” she said.
I poured two glasses of water from a pitcher I kept in the refrigerator. “Let’s sit out on the porch.” A long screened-in porch ran the length of the house. Floor-to-ceiling windows provided dazzling views during the day. I liked sitting out here right before a storm hit. Once it hit, I cowered inside, either in my bed or on the couch. Ann led the way and unlocked the door to the porch. A rush of cool air hit us. The storm was closer than I realized, but I hated for people to know how much storms unnerved me, so I sat on the love seat. Perched might be a better word. I forced myself to relax into the cushions. Ann settled on the chaise lounge, looking way more relaxed than I was.
She sat, taking in the scene. I hadn’t turned on any of the lights. We didn’t really need them. The storm seemed to be halfway between the horizon and here. When the lightning flashed, you could see the massive clouds surrounding it. It lighted a container ship that seemed closer than most. It was stacked high with containers and pitched in the water. Although I’m sure it had seen rougher seas than this.
“I want to go back out and try to look for the shipwreck again,” Ann said.
“There has to be some connection to the map and Enrique being there.” I just couldn’t call him Rick. “But this storm isn’t supposed to be done in the morning. Plus, I have an appointment with Johnny and then work.”
“I was thinking Tuesday morning. Would that work for you?”
“Yes. I’m off.”
Ann stood. “Thank you. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to take another shot at this.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Ann gave me a half-smile. I’m not sure we really were friends, but I was up to my neck in this already. I stood, too. Ann headed to the front door, and I followed. As Ann left, the rain started pounding down. I got in my jammies, found a good book, and huddled in bed. Storms came in many forms—ones like this and the emotional ones that made someone kill Enrique. There wasn’t much I could do about the one swirling outside, but I had an idea of what I could do about Enrique.