July
Wednesday, 7:49 pm
The screen door slid open with ease as Alex stepped onto the wooden deck, leaving behind the laughter and good-natured ribbing of his friends setting up the poker game inside. The evening air carried the salt-laden scent of the Gulf, and the sky glowed with bands of orange merging into soft pinks and purples above the water. He used his shoulder to pin the phone against his ear while sliding the door closed behind him.
“Aspen, you’re interrupting the start of what is about to be a legendary poker victory,” Alex said as he crossed to the weathered patio table and pulled out one of the chairs. He settled into it with the unhurried ease of a man five days into a vacation. “I plan on paying for next month’s rent with my winnings.”
The wooden boards beneath his bare feet still retained the day’s warmth, and waves crashed rhythmically against the shoreline below the rental property, a steady percussion that hadbeen the soundtrack to their entire trip. It beat a sound machine by a mile.
“You should have sent me to voicemail,” Kinsley said, her voice carrying the slightly tinny quality that meant she was talking through her Jeep’s Bluetooth system. “I was just going to let you know that your mom is doing great. I stopped by with some wings from The Bucket, but she was heading out to bingo.”
Alex had been in the process of lifting his beer to his lips when he caught the way she’d ended the sentence. The deliberate pause, the faint amusement she was trying to suppress. He decided to take a swig before addressing it.
“Let me guess,” Alex said with a resignation he didn’t bother disguising. “She invited Paul.”
“Let’s just say that the dinner with Paul last weekend went wonderfully, and I didn’t know your mom could blush like that,” Kinsley replied, laughing at the groan that escaped him. “I’m kidding. Well, not about bingo. But I think it’s a test.”
“A test for what?”
“Seriously? When was the last time you went to bingo? Do you have any idea how much patience and concentration are required when you’re managing more than two or three bingo cards at the same time? If Paul can survive a full evening of that without losing his mind or accidentally daubing the wrong square, your mother will know he’s a keeper.”
Alex decided it wasn’t in his best interest to mention how much patience he was currently expending on this conversation. He deliberately shifted topics, not wanting to spend his vacation dissecting his mother’s newfound love life.
“How is the Bell case going?”
“Let’s just say you were wise to take this week off,” Kinsley muttered, and the frustration in her voice was thick enough to carry across cellular towers. “Cap is in a foul mood, and I have no doubt that he’s about to shove me in front of the mediatomorrow to explain why I had the superintendent shut down the high school today.”
“You did what?”
“Amelia Keery told us that Iris Bell didn’t just hide tapes at her house. She stashed them throughout the high school.” It was Kinsley’s turn to groan. “Amelia tried to find those hiding spots after Iris died, but she only ever located two tapes. Tossed them in the trash years ago. She said she got the sense there were a lot more hidden inside the school, though, and she was right.”
A pair of seagulls dipped and soared over the waves, their sharp eyes scanning the darkening water for dinner. Their relentless persistence reminded Alex of the press, and he didn’t envy what Kinsley was going to face tomorrow.
“Stretch found cassette tapes in the ventilation system. Apparently, Iris discovered that the metal plates covering the vents could be removed and reattached without anyone noticing, so she’d been using them as storage compartments. Then a couple more tapes turned up in the science lab’s storage closet, and one was wedged behind a loose panel in the auditorium. We’re still searching. There could be more.”
“That’s creative,” Alex admitted, impressed despite himself. A seventeen-year-old girl running a surveillance operation sophisticated enough to require multiple storage sites across two locations. Whatever else could be said about Iris Bell, she’d been resourceful.
“Stretch is still there with a team of techs, so I’m headed back with dinner. It’s going to be a late night.” Kinsley must have switched on her turn signal, because Alex could hear the rhythmic ticking in the background. “There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to listen to all the recordings myself, so Toby is back at the station coordinating with some officers to get the conversations transcribed. Forensics is backed up for weeks, and I’m not willing to wait months to find out what’s on those tapes.”
“Is the mayor still putting pressure on the captain?”
“Not as much now that the lid is blown. Once we shut down the school, there was no keeping this quiet anymore. And with tapes scattered throughout the building, Thompson had no choice but to authorize the additional resources. It’s not an exploratory review of a closed case anymore, Alex. This is a full investigation.”
“And how’s Drewett holding up?” Alex asked, genuinely curious about the patrol officer who had been thrust into his role while he was out here catching fish and playing cards.
“Surprisingly well. Eager to prove himself. You’d like him.” Kinsley paused, and Alex noticed the turn signal had stopped. “You texted him, didn’t you? Suggested he might want to carry a few of my business cards around with him.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex said with a smile, taking another drink of his beer. The ocean had darkened from turquoise to deep blue as dusk settled in, casting the deck in shadow. “Any viable suspects standing out from the rest?”
“That’s the thing,” Kinsley said, and the irritation in her voice shifted to something more like bewilderment. “The suspect list is growing by the hour. We’ve got the parents, the brother, the best friend. Don’t even get me started on the neighbors. And now that we’ve found tapes at the school, we’ve got to look into every teacher and student who walked through those doors back then. Iris wasn’t just recording her family and their friends. She was recording everyone she had access to, and at a high school, that’s a very long list.”
The seagulls made one last wide circle before heading toward shore, swooping low to snatch at something just beneath the surface of the water. Alex observed them disappear into the gathering dusk.
“Don’t let the external factors distract you from what’s right in front of you,” Alex said. He understood it was easier saidthan done, but sometimes a reminder from someone outside the pressure cooker was necessary. “The school tapes are important, but whoever killed Iris was in that house that night. Start with the people who were closest to her and work outward. Have you spoken to everyone in that inner circle?”
“Shannon Utgoff moved to Arizona a few years ago. Toby is tracking down her current information, and we’ll set up a video conference call in the next few days.” The sound of shifting gears came through the line, followed by the soft hum of the Jeep’s engine settling to idle. She’d pulled to a stop. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m interviewing Paul Fisher. He’s Richard’s business partner and supposedly the only person who told Iris to go ahead and play whatever tape she had on him. Called her bluff. Said the only people who’d be hurt by whatever she’d recorded were her own family.”
“Gutsy.” Alex tracked a distant sailboat on the horizon, its running lights blinking against the darkening water. A man who had called a teenage blackmailer’s bluff was either genuinely unafraid or smart enough to understand that cooperation was more dangerous than defiance. Either way, Fisher was worth a close look. “Just be careful, alright? The political pressure makes everything harder.”
