Wuthering Kites Read online

  Dustin went to the door and ran his fingers over the bolt. “You changed the locks, I hope. I’m serious about my offer to help you set up a security system.”

  “I changed the locks first thing, but if you have some time, I could use a primer on burglar alarms.”

  “Done,” he said.

  “That poor reporter’s family,” Claire said, still staring at the floor.

  Stella and I looked at each other. “That’s another mystery,” I said. “The reporter showed up here yesterday. The body wasn’t hers at all. We still don’t know who the woman was.”

  Dustin’s head snapped up. “I thought you said you’d found her business card.”

  I shook my head. “We found a note with my name and the time of the interview and made an assumption from that.” I kept quiet about Jack’s kite charm and the phone message I never received. They didn’t need to be worried—not that it would come to anything, anyway.

  Claire forced a laugh. “At least we know it wasn’t Allison, since she’d texted Jack.”

  “Your aunt Allison?” I said. “She didn’t show up to the funeral?”

  “Who?” Stella asked.

  “My stepmom. Allison,” Dustin said. “She was supposed to drive in from Portland. She texted Jack, said she was delayed. Rosa kept her room ready, but she never showed up.”

  “So, you still haven’t heard from her?” I asked. “At all?”

  “I wonder where she is,” Claire nearly whispered.

  We all stared at the floor. I felt my hands and face chill as the blood drained from them. No, I thought. Couldn’t be.

  chapter eleven

  For a moment, none of us spoke. I broke the silence with nervous laughter. “Imagine. Your aunt. That’s ridiculous.”

  Claire’s expression didn’t lift. Dustin glanced at her, then said, “Don’t worry, Claire. It can’t be Allison. That was just a joke.”

  Claire rubbed her upper arms as if chilled. “I don’t know. She was supposed to come to Rock Point two days ago, right when the body was found. Two days. Her own husband died.”

  “But you said she was often delayed by business, right?” I asked.

  “Was she the type to change plans at the last minute?” Stella said.

  “She could be flaky.” Claire’s words said one thing and her manner said another. “But she would have at least called.”

  Dustin took her gently by the upper arms. “I know you’re worried. The funeral brought out a lot of emotion. But it couldn’t have been Allison.”

  “Why not?” Claire said. I watched intently.

  “She texted Jack that she’d be late, remember? You said it yourself.”

  Claire exhaled slowly. A bit of color returned to her face. “You’re right. But why didn’t she text again—or call?”

  “Maybe her phone died,” I offered.

  “Look,” Dustin said. “Jack said Allison texted the afternoon she was supposed to be in Rock Point. When did you find the body?” He directed the last part at me.

  “That same morning. Nearly nine thirty, right, Stella?”

  Stella had been silent, but listening and watching in a way that indicated an assessment. “Would you like some water, Claire?”

  “I’m okay,” she said, but her voice had dwindled. “I’m sorry for making a big deal about this. I just got a premonition—a bad feeling. Nerves, I’m sure.” She looked gratefully toward Dustin. “Thank you for calming me down.”

  “It couldn’t have been your aunt,” Stella said. “She was too young. Barely older than you, in fact. Maybe Dustin’s age.” She turned her kind eyes toward Claire. “Don’t worry, honey.”

  As Stella talked, Claire’s complexion blanched again, and this time I knew why. Jack had mentioned how his aunt’s age was part of the reason she and his uncle had separated.

  Claire swallowed. “Allison.”

  Dustin had his phone pressed to his ear. “Answer, Allison. Pick up the phone.” He pressed the “off” button and dropped the phone in his pocket. He looked at his feet.

  “We’d better settle this once and for all, or none of us will be able to relax.” I forced myself to sound calm, light. “It’s simple. A little gruesome, but simple. I’ll ask the sheriff to show you a photo, and you’ll know right away that it wasn’t her.”

  “Maybe I’d better look at it. Claire’s had enough stress,” Dustin said, his arm around her shoulders.

  “That’s fine. I’ll call the sheriff right now. Who knows? He might have already identified the body.” Despite my upbeat tone, my heart pounded.

  “Excuse me a moment.” I took my phone to the studio and punched in Sheriff Koppen’s number. It was crazy—way too much of a coincidence—to even suspect that Jack’s aunt had been strangled in my shop. I’d never met her. She had no reason to be here.

  Deputy Goff answered the phone and told me the sheriff was in Astoria at the jail. “A deposition,” she said. “He can’t be disturbed.”

  I gazed out the kitchen window into the alley. A seagull had pulled a hot dog bun from the garbage and was making short work of it for lunch.

  “Here’s the situation,” I said. I told her that one of Jack’s family members was missing, and she matched the description of the woman Stella and I had found. “I know it’s a long shot, but it would bring us all a lot of peace if we could see a photo of her. Maybe just her face—nothing too . . . you know.”

  To my surprise, Deputy Goff’s voice was gentle. “I understand. I know you aren’t some thrill seeker—”

  “Definitely not.”

  “And, to be frank, we don’t have any other leads. Can you be here soon?”

  “Right away,” I said, making my way across the kitchen.

  In the shop, Claire’s mood appeared to have lightened a bit. She was holding a kite shaped like an owl, one of Strings Attached’s most popular items.

  “I used to have a kite like this,” she said. “Grandpa Sullivan didn’t sell them, so Mom and Dad made me hide it.”

  “Where did you buy it?” Before I came to town, Rock Point had only Sullivan’s Kites, the shop Claire and Jack’s grandfather had owned. It was Jack’s shop now.

  “I saw it in Lincoln City. I had to have it and threw a fit until Dad bought it for me.”

  “Take it,” I said and pulled its package from the rack below the demo kite she’d fingered.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean that you should—”

  “Really, I want you to have it.” What was coming up next was going to shift the mood drastically, and Claire should grab a bit of joy while she could.

  “What did the sheriff say?” Dustin asked.

  “Deputy Goff is expecting us in a few minutes.”

  “Oh, Emmy,” Stella said.

  I knew what she was thinking. I’d never forget what we’d both seen that morning, and I didn’t wish it on anyone, let alone Jack’s cousin. At least Claire would be spared.

  “It’s okay,” Dustin said. “If it will bring Claire peace, it’s worth it for me to see the photos.”

  We walked up to Main Street, and I pushed open the door to the sheriff’s office. Deputy Goff looked up from her computer screen. We’d had our differences in the past, and I was used to her scowl, or, at the least, her determined indifference. The kindness in her eyes led me to feel ashamed of my past attitude.

  “You must be Jack’s sister and cousin,” she said. “I remember you from when you were kids coming to visit your grandpa.”

  She couldn’t be much older than any of us. Ten years at the most, I realized. Somehow she’d always seemed a lot older. Maybe it was the uniform. Or the scowl.

  Claire’s smile widened. “I remember you. You babysat us once when Mom and Dad went out, didn’t you?”

  “You and Jack. We played Sorry.”

  “And you let us win,”
Claire said.

  Dustin kept himself a few feet away. He fidgeted with his coat sleeve.

  Deputy Goff glanced at him and returned to her computer. “I understand your aunt is missing.”

  “‘Missing’ is a strong word,” Dustin said.

  “But we haven’t been able to get in touch with her,” Claire said. “She was supposed to drive in from Portland the day before yesterday.”

  I stood to the side. Deputy Goff could take care of this. With any luck, Dustin would shake his head no, and we’d spend the next hour at Martino’s Pizza talking about how foolish we’d been. To make the dream richer, Jack would call, and we’d all laugh at our ridiculous thoughts.

  “I have to warn you, this might be disturbing,” Deputy Goff said. “It’s not like on TV. Once you see the photos, you can never unsee them.” She clicked a few keys. “I’m still not used to it, myself.”

  Dustin stepped closer to the desk. “I’m ready. It will settle a lot of anxiety.”

  “Of course.” Deputy Goff returned her attention to the screen. “If you’re sure, here’s a photo of the deceased.”

  I was out of sight of the computer screen, but I knew what Dustin would see. The images would be colder in a photo, maybe less intense, but equally horrifying.

  Dustin smiled at Claire, then went to Goff’s side of the desk. His smile vanished. He glanced at Claire, then me, then back at the computer. I knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth.

  “It’s her.”

  “Are you sure?” Deputy Goff said. Gentle, caring Deputy Goff had transformed into efficient, firm Deputy Goff before my eyes.

  “I’m afraid so.” Dustin looked away.

  I had done the same when I’d seen the body on my shop’s floor. It was too much emotion to absorb at once.

  “Claire, I’m sorry to have to ask you to do this, but we need your confirmation.”

  Claire walked slowly but surely to the computer and, without hesitating, raised her gaze to the screen.

  “Claire?” the deputy said.

  “I think that’s her, but I’d like to see another photo, just in case.”

  Claire. What courage.

  Deputy Goff scrolled the computer’s mouse. “Here’s another view.”

  Claire stepped back from the screen. “That’s Allison.” Her voice broke.

  On the street outside, a car with a bad muffler puttered by. A few people who’d taken advantage of Martino’s beer pitchers next door laughed as they left the restaurant.

  Deputy Goff grabbed the phone and asked for Sheriff Koppen. I guess the deposition wasn’t so important after all. Not compared to identifying a homicide victim. She hung up. “The sheriff would like to talk to you. He’s coming straight down. Where can he find you?” the deputy asked Dustin and Claire.

  “We’ll be at Jack’s house,” Claire said. She seemed surprised that words came out of her mouth at all.

  On the street, I hugged each of them good-bye. “Call me if you need anything,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”

  Claire looked too stunned to respond. Dustin kept rubbing his eyes in disbelief.

  “I had a feeling,” Claire said. She was in shock now. At some point, the tears would come. Losing her aunt on top of losing her uncle was a lot to process.

  “I’m so sorry,” I repeated. I felt so helpless. “If there’s anything I can do—”

  “We need to tell Jack,” Claire said. “Jack needs to know about Allison.”

  Dustin shook his head as if he was a golden retriever shaking water from his fur. “You know what this means, right? About the farm?”

  I thought of my unanswered messages to Jack. “Another funeral. Jack needs to hear about it from family, not a stranger or the newspaper.”

  “Not just that,” Claire said. “With Allison—gone—Jack and I just inherited Uncle Gus’s entire estate.”

  chapter twelve

  “The farm? Jack and Claire?” I could only say.

  Dustin was Uncle Gus’s only child. Why didn’t he inherit? Neither Dustin nor Claire looked ready to explain further, so I left them on the sidewalk in front of the sheriff’s office. They’d find comfort in each other, and I’d only get in the way.

  The sheriff’s words about the kite charm returned to me. “Not alone, it doesn’t,” he’d said of the charm’s value as evidence against Jack. Now Jack had a motive.

  I didn’t return to Strings Attached. Stella could take care of the store and Bear for a few hours. I wanted family.

  I walked to the alley behind the shop and took my black Prius with its “Bowl Naked” bumper sticker (thanks, Mom and Dad) to Avery’s house on the off chance that Sunny would be in and not wandering on the cliffs, pondering the meaning of life, or settled at the library with the Financial Times.

  Fortunately, she was home.

  “Where’s Bear?” she said and looked behind me.

  “I left him at the shop with Stella. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  “Sure,” she said absently. Her gaze slowly sharpened. “Why are you here? What’s wrong?”

  “Can’t I just come to see my baby sister?” I wanted to tell her about Allison, but first I wanted the comfort of her company, especially with Jack in the mountains somewhere.

  Sunny stood at the house’s door, her thin arms resting on the railing and her blond dreadlocks flopping in the breeze. Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  “For real.”

  “Okay. But I’m suspicious.” She turned and walked into the house.

  Sunny and I were a handful of years apart in age and eons apart in worldview. Despite having the same parents and same upbringing, we’d seemingly been formed in different molds. Sunny—her given name was Belinda, after our aunt—had to stop to talk to every one of the neighborhood’s dogs and cats when we went for walks. My parents ate it up, of course, convinced she was a natural earth fairy. Even when she was young enough for a stroller, she chortled and pointed her chubby fingers at birds. I lingered behind clutching a library book.

  In later years, I spent hours in my room sketching and poring over art books, while Sunny was in the living room charming the neighbors. What my parents didn’t know was that I was also watching Sunny’s back every day at school to make sure neighborhood bullies didn’t prey on her. I didn’t need to. Somehow, Sunny always outsmarted them. She might have looked ditsy, but woe be to the poor sucker who tried to steal her lunch money. He’d find when he reached into crying Sunny’s bag he had a handful of Mom’s homemade tofu spread, instead. Now I realized that, in her way, she was watching out for me, too. She pulled me out at recess and told her friends how smart I was and how well I could draw. She defended me when Mom said I was too withdrawn.

  “Want a beer?” Sunny asked and opened the refrigerator.

  I know it’s ridiculous, but I still hesitated at taking a beer from my little sister. “Do you have any iced tea?”

  “Right here.” Sunny pulled a pitcher from the refrigerator. “We really should switch to hot tea now. Let’s take it to the porch.”

  One of the glories of Avery’s old family house was its long porch overlooking the ocean. Evenings, the view of the sunset put a thousand pictorial calendars to shame. Today, the porch was chilly, but protected. I opened the chest of blankets Avery kept handy and wrapped one around me. Sunny lowered herself to the cushion on the couch next to me and tucked her feet under her.

  “Give,” she said, eyes on mine.

  I shifted on the cushion, making myself comfortable before I replied. “We found out who the body in the shop was.”

  “Get out! And?” She leaned forward, her lips parted.

  “Allison. Jack’s aunt, remember? She never showed up for the funeral. It was her.”

  The autumn wind creaked through the house’s timbers. I was
n’t cold, not with the blanket I’d swaddled myself in, but I shivered anyway.

  “No kidding.” Sunny’s voice was low. “How did you find out?”

  I told her about Dustin and Claire’s visit, their joking remark, and our stunning realization at the sheriff’s office. “I can’t figure it out. My brain is still spinning.”

  As usual, Sunny cut to the heart of the matter. “So, Gus’s wife is dead. Who inherits? Did he have a will?”

  “Inherits what?” I said, even though I knew what she was talking about. I needed time to think.

  “Knock it off, Em.”

  I leaned my head over the couch’s back. The ocean thrashed the beach below. “Jack and Claire.”

  “Not Dustin?”

  “I guess not. I wondered, too, but it wasn’t the time to ask.”

  “Hmm,” Sunny said. “So it comes back to Jack.”

  “And Claire,” I added quickly, but it was Jack I thought of. I’d only known him since spring, and it hadn’t been until late summer that we were seriously dating. I’d felt so comfortable with him. But how well did I really know him?

  It was a strange thing to look at my little sister and say the words, but I did. “What do you think of Jack?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter what I think? You seem pretty gaga over him.”

  “Tell me.”

  She set down her iced tea. “Well, he has a solid business plan.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Listen to me. I’m not talking about just money. He thinks things through. He has an engineering degree, but he decided to follow his passion, instead. I can relate to that.”

  “But your passion is a degree. A business degree.”

  “It’s not the college I’m talking about; it’s the passion. He was an engineer, but he wanted to live by the ocean and sell kites, so he did it.”

  I leaned back again. Kites. I understood that. Life was too short to saddle yourself to a paycheck just because it was steady.

  “It’s true,” I said. I hoped I didn’t sound too dreamy.