Saltwater Cove Read online

  “I’d really appreciate it, if you don’t mind,” she finally said.

  “Hop on in!”

  Morgan climbed into the back seat, squishing the two passengers who were already there. She introduced herself, and they told her that they were in for the holiday weekend – camping by Lime Kiln on the other side of the island.

  “That sounds really nice,” said Morgan.

  The woman up front turned around to join the conversation. “It’s been awesome so far. If you’re staying out that way, feel free to stop by our campsite. Usually by dark, we’re all exhausted just hanging out, listening to the sounds of the water.”

  Morgan smiled. That sounded peaceful. But she didn’t feel peaceful – not that they needed to know that. “Yeah thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  It only took them about seven minutes to get her to the Cattle Point Trail. It was a much nicer option than the three hour walk that she’d committed herself to. She got out of the car and thanked them for the ride; they reversed and drove away, waving.

  First hitchhiking experience – five stars.

  What was most surprising to her was that she was the only one on this hiking trail. She stood and stared at the lighthouse on the tip of Cattle Point. Tall grasses swayed with an immaculate view of the water and other islands in the distance. She stood as the wind blew in her ears, soaking in the stark difference of the warm car, filled with people and smiles, and her standing here at what felt like the edge of the world.

  Had her mom ever hiked this trail? Did she like the view? Morgan would never get the chance to ask her…

  That was enough. She had places to be and people to harass.

  Taking a peak at her phone, she found the road that she needed to follow and started walking. It was surprisingly easy to find it online – there really was no privacy with the internet. It only took about ten minutes to get to the house, and then she was faced with a long, private driveway.

  She decided that she should try to be as inconspicuous as possible, especially since it was now light out. Instead of walking on the actual driveway, she walked about ten feet to the side through some trees and brush. It wasn’t too bad and she felt like she was pretty well hidden. She spotted a large garage at the back of the property. Before she went to check it out, she waited for about five minutes to make sure that there was no movement within the house.

  When she was satisfied that she was alone, she crept to the side of the garage to investigate the door there. She tried the handle – no luck. It was locked. She leaned up against the nearest window and peered inside. The garage was enormous. There were eight cars, some of them lifted above the others.

  “Rich people,” she muttered. She’d never seen anything like it in her life. There was one car covered up by some sort of a tarp. That could be the one she needed.

  She spent the next fifteen minutes trying to pick the lock like she’d read about online. Once that failed, she tried to find some other way to sneak into this garage. It was surprisingly locked down.

  She was about to leave and come back later that night with a better lock picking strategy when she heard the whoop of a police siren.

  Oh boy.

  “Morning,” called out the officer.

  Morgan stood frozen in her tracks. Some panicked thoughts raced through her mind – should she run? How far would she get? How cold was the water in the ocean? Probably pretty cold, but…

  He walked up to her. “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

  “I was – on a hike. And I got lost.”

  The officer frowned. “Do you always go hiking in white sneakers?”

  Morgan looked down at her feet, then back up to him. He was a big guy – not fat, but not skinny. He was just a big dude. She wondered if he was a fast runner. She certainly wasn’t…

  “Yeah, these are old,” she finally said.

  “Is there a reason that you were playing with the handle on his door here?”

  “What, this? Oh,” she laughed nervously. “I just wanted to see the cars inside. They look really nice.”

  They looked really nice! What!

  He nodded, looking around. “Well, the owner of those nice cars doesn’t want you poking around here. So I’m going to have to remove you for trespassing. Do you have some identification?”

  She groaned. “Yes sir. It’s in my backpack. Is it okay if I grab it?”

  “Oh sure, but do it slowly.”

  She nodded and removed the bag from her back at almost a sloth like pace.

  “Not so fast!” he yelled.

  She threw her hands up. “Sorry!”

  He laughed. “Just kidding, that was fine. Go ahead.”

  Morgan’s heart pounded in her chest. Did he really just make a joke? She was too stunned to absorb it. She carefully unzipped the top pocket of the bag and pulled out her driver’s license.

  He accepted it, squinted at it, then held it out further from his face.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said under his breath.

  “I’m not kidding sir.” Morgan had her hands up again.

  “No – put your hands down.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “You’re Morgan Allen?”

  “Yes sir.”

  The front door of the house opened and a man popped his head out. “That’s the one! Arrest her!”

  “Crabs on a cracker,” muttered the officer. “Go back in your home, now.”

  “I don’t want her –”

  “Now!” He yelled.

  Morgan realized for the first time how cold her hands were. She stared at the man in the doorway, her mouth hanging open.

  He stared back at them for a moment before slamming the door.

  The officer turned back to her. “Okay kid, we’ll talk more in the car. Let’s go. Do you have a bike or something?”

  She shook her head.

  “How’d you get here?”

  She wrinkled her nose – she knew that she shouldn’t lie to an officer, but she really didn’t want to tell the truth. “I – caught a ride with some people.”

  “Oh. Okay. Take a seat in the back.”

  Heart thundering away, Morgan sat in the back the police car. She’d never been in a police car before. Trespassing wasn’t that bad, was it? Was she going to go to jail or something?

  “I’m Hank, the Chief Deputy Sheriff.”

  Morgan felt a fingernail digging into her palm from her tightly clasped hands. She made herself loosen her grip. “So you’re the top guy?”

  He shook his head. “No. You’re thinking of the sheriff.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “But I’d still like you to tell me what you are actually doing out here. And don’t tell me that you were hiking.”

  Morgan felt dizzy. She never thought her plan was the smartest, and now she was afraid to even say it out loud. “It’s – well I wasn’t really thinking.”

  “I can see that.”

  She continued. “I was looking for a car – one car in particular.”

  Hank crossed his arms. “Was it a 1963 Corvette Sting Ray?”

  Oh shoot. He knew exactly who she was and exactly what she was doing. She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

  “You’re looking for the car that hit your mom and left its bumper behind?”

  She kept her eyes closed – she could feel the tears coming. “Yes.”

  Hank let out a sigh. “I know that this may not sound like much, but we’ve looked everywhere for that car.”

  “I just thought that there might be a clue or something…”

  He was silent.

  She opened her eyes and leaned forward to see what he was doing. He was just sitting there with one hand on the steering wheel, staring forward.

  “Listen kid. I know that this feels like the right thing to do, but it’s not the right thing to do. Brock Hunter is a dangerous man, and for more than just his drunk driving record. I don’t want you going on his property again, or I will really have to arrest you. It�
�s for your own good.”

  Morgan took a deep breath and looked out the window. She tried to steady her voice before answering. “Okay.”

  “I’m serious. Tell me that you won’t go back there.”

  “I won’t go back.”

  “Okay, good.” He started the car. “We have an understanding. Now where are you staying?”

  He was changing the subject. Good. “I haven’t figured that out yet. I was hoping I could find some place to camp, or maybe a hotel room to rent.”

  He turned around. “Are you kidding me?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t kidded you this entire time!”

  He rubbed his forehead. “Well, I can confidently say that there is probably not a single place left on the island that isn’t booked this weekend.”

  “Oh.”

  Planning was never really her forte.

  “Do you want me to drive you back to the ferry?”

  “Well, I was hoping to stay for a bit. I want to visit the place where my mom…” Her voice started to crack. “Well, and just some other stuff.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  He sat for a moment before continuing. “Well, if you’ve got an open mind, I think I know a lady who’s got a place for you to stay.”

  She sat up straight. “Really?”

  “You bet,” he said as he reversed out of the driveway.

  Chapter 6

  Maybe he should call first? No – even if he wanted to, he didn’t have Margie’s number.

  Yet.

  He glanced in the rear view mirror. Morgan sat still, clutching her backpack to her chest and looking out the window. She reminded him of his own daughter – except his daughter was a more skilled liar. It served her well in her marketing career now, but it drove him crazy when she was a teenager.

  Hank didn’t have a backup plan if Margie wasn’t home, or if she wouldn’t let this girl, who was essentially a stranger, into her home. He could offer her a place to sleep in the county jail, but that seemed horrible. What was she thinking, coming out here and trying to break into Brock Hunter’s garage? Did she really think that the police had been so negligent that they hadn’t thought to look there?

  Of course they’d looked. They looked everywhere. When Morgan’s mother was found, badly injured, and taken to the hospital, all that was left at the crash site was a back bumper. The driver of the car presumably hit Kelly Allen, then reversed into a pole, and drove off without their bumper. Unfortunately, there was no license plate.

  Brock was one of the richest men on the island, and he definitely believed that he was above the law. He was the only one on San Juan who had a car that matched that bumper, but that wasn’t enough proof. Hank suspected that he must have worked extremely quickly to get the damaged car smuggled off of the island. It was probably destroyed within twelve hours of the accident.

  Brock was arrested that evening for a DUI. Oddly, he was driving a 2001 Toyota Camry – a vehicle that was far beneath his wealth and pride. One of their best deputies questioned the owner of that vehicle – a mechanic who lived on the mainland. But he offered no explanation for his car mysteriously appearing on San Juan Island in the control of Brock Hunter.

  While it seemed obvious that Brock was the culprit, they had no hard evidence. Morgan was right to be suspicious of Brock, but she was too young to understand how easily a rich man could slip from the fingers of justice.

  Yes, in an ideal world the love of a young woman for her mother would be enough to solve the case. But Hank knew all too well the special level of justice that the very rich experienced – and Brock was no exception. He wasn’t even convicted of the DUI from that night – his lawyer was able to get him out of it, despite a blood test showing that he was at two and a half times the legal limit.

  The entire sheriff’s department was still looking for evidence – still going after leads. But Hank didn’t want to get the poor girl’s hopes up. It didn’t look good.

  He cleared his throat. “Have you ever been to San Juan before?”

  “No. This is my first visit.”

  “Oh.” Not the best first visit, but okay.

  “My parents were here for a, uh, anniversary trip. My mom kept sending me pictures and telling me how beautiful it was…”

  “I’m very sorry about your mom. The entire community has been mourning and we still are working on the case.”

  “Thank you.”

  He looked in the rear view mirror again to see that she was back to looking out the window. He decided not to say anything else. He knew firsthand that the things people said to someone grieving were often less helpful than intended.

  They drove the rest of the way in silence, with Hank growing increasingly more nervous about this scheme that occurred to him. Maybe this really wasn’t a good idea. Was he just trying to find an excuse to stop by and see Margie again? Margie was so unbelievably hospitable when he stopped by to give her Morgan’s name – surely she would be even more excited to see the girl herself!

  No. This was a bad idea.

  But it was too late.

  With any luck, she wouldn’t be home. Hank slowly ascended the driveway and it occurred to him that he needed to bring back Margie’s plastic container. The lasagna she gave him the other night was heavenly – absolutely heavenly. He decided that it was better he didn’t have the container now, because it gave him another excuse to stop by.

  He pulled up in front of the house and parked the car. Before he could tell Morgan to stay in the car, she already opened the door and hopped out.

  Should’ve locked the doors. Well, it seemed that this was happening.

  He walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell; Morgan stood a few feet behind him. Hank looked back at her and smiled. Could she tell that he was being a bit insane?

  The front door opened and there stood Margie, with bits of paint splattered and speckled onto her face and shirt. “Oh! Chief Hank! Hi!”

  “Hey Margie, sorry to interrupt your –”

  She laughed. “It’s no trouble at all. What’s going on?”

  “Well, I got a call about a trespasser this morning and you’ll never guess who it was.” He stepped to the side and watched Margie’s face carefully.

  It looks like a little gust of wind hit her. Her eyebrows went up and her entire body appeared to sway slightly backwards, but the smile remained frozen on her face.

  Morgan stepped forward, hand outstretched. “It’s very nice to meet you, my name is Morgan Allen.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you too, I’m Margie Clifton.”

  Hank’s eyes darted between them both. “Uh, Margie used to know your mom. Back in the day.”

  “Oh really?” said Morgan, her eyes brightening.

  Margie nodded rapidly. “Yes, very briefly, more than twenty years ago. I saw her picture and…well, I’m just so very sorry for your loss sweetheart.”

  Morgan offered a pained smile.

  “Well,” Hank said, putting his hands on his hips. “The reason that I brought her here – well, she can tell you more about that. But I had the choice of arresting her or helping her find a place to stay on the island. Everything right now is booked, and I thought – and I’m realizing now how silly this sounds – that maybe if you had –”

  Margie threw her hands up. “Of course! Yes, I have plenty of room! I would be happy to host you.”

  “I really don’t want to impose,” said Morgan. “Once a place opens up on the island, I’ll book it right away. I might just find a campsite or something.”

  “It’s no problem at all. As long as you don’t mind me painting and trying to spruce some things up.”

  “I’d be happy to help actually,” said Morgan.

  “Would you look at that,” said Hank. “You just doubled your workforce.”

  Margie let out a small laugh and Hank cringed – he really put her in a tough position. Why hadn’t he turned the car around when he had the chance? It seemed like he was taking advantage
of her kindness, but it wasn’t his intention at all. He had this strange urge to see her again, and he knew that she wanted to meet this girl and…well, it lead him to this misguided situation.

  “If you don’t have the room, I’m sure I can find somewhere for her,” said Hank. That wasn’t true of course, but he needed to at least offer it.

  “No no, please don’t. It’d be nice to have someone else around here.”

  Before he could stop himself, Hank said, “Oh, is your husband not staying with you?”

  Margie scrunched her shoulders up and down a quick motion. “Nope! My ex-husband lives in New York City.”

  Hank’s stomach did a little twirl. Ex-husband!

  “That’s so cool,” said Morgan. “I always wanted to visit New York City. Have you been there?”

  Margie nodded. “Yes, we went there several times when we were married – he was setting up a new branch of his business there. It’s certainly a charming city, though I’ve never been much of a city girl.”

  “Me neither,” said Morgan.

  “That makes three of us!” said Hank. “I’m just like you country girls.”

  Now they both laughed – actually laughed. He decided to leave before any other bizarre things escaped from his mouth.

  “Well, I’d better be getting back to work now. Morgan – remember what I told you. And Margie – it was a pleasure, as always.”

  Morgan nodded, lips pursed tightly together.

  “Of course!” said Margie with a smile. “Thanks again Chief Hank. See you later.”

  “I hope so,” he said.

  Hank promptly turned around and walked towards his car, his eyes tightly shut. What had gotten into him? He was acting like a giddy schoolgirl. He hadn’t felt this way in…well, who knows how long. Yet every time that he saw her, he liked her more and more. She had a wonderful energy – she sucked him in. It was more than just the cooking. It was more than her being cute. He reminded her of the sun somehow and she made him feel…hopeful?

  What was that? He got into his car and shook his head. Hopeful. That was something he hadn’t felt in years.