Second Wind (Cypress Coast Book 1) Page 13

  “No.” Her friend shook her head. “As far as I know, everyone in your family is fine.”

  Laurel’s body sagged with relief. “Thank goodness. You scared me.” A slow, deep breath eased her tremor. “What is it, then?”

  Melody released her arm and straightened. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I might as well be direct. A body washed up on Carmel Beach this morning. We believe it’s Richard Vargis.”

  Richard? Dead?

  Laurel struggled to make sense of the words. She couldn’t banish the image of him Thursday morning. He might have been angry, agitated, and pointing a gun at her, but he was very much alive. “I don’t understand. How can he be dead? I just saw him.”

  The deputy stepped forward. “When did you last see Mr. Vargis, Ms. McDowell?”

  She sank back into her desk chair. “Thanksgiving morning.”

  “At the time of the alleged assault. And not since?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She looked up at Melody. “You said you think it’s Richard. Does that mean you’re not sure?”

  Melody glanced away before meeting Laurel’s gaze. “The body had been in the water for some time—the ME thinks possibly since Thursday. There was some…damage…from rocks or sea life. However, there was a wallet in his pocket with Richard Vargis’s ID.”

  Laurel’s head swam and her stomach lurched. She clasped one hand over her mouth as bile rose in the back of her throat.

  Melody winced. “I hate to have to tell you like this. Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

  “No. No.” Laurel took a big, noisy breath. “I’ll be all right.” After several more breaths, her head and stomach settled. She tilted her face up. “You don’t need me to…uh…identify the body or anything, do you?”

  The deputy answered. “No, ma’am, that won’t be necessary. Although it would help if you happen to know the name of Mr. Vargis’s dentist in Seattle so we can request his dental records.”

  Thankful the request gave her something to focus on besides the gruesome image of Richard’s face gnawed by hungry fish, Laurel nodded. “Yes. We went to the same dentist—Dr. Benson on Kellogg Street.”

  The deputy scribbled it down in a small notebook.

  As the initial shock waned, questions arose in Laurel’s brain. “Was it an accident? Did he drown?”

  A quick look passed between Melody and the deputy before she replied. “We don’t believe so.”

  Laurel’s stomach threatened to rebel again. She swallowed hard. “Do you mean to say he was murdered?”

  This time, the deputy answered. “Due to the condition of the body, it’s impossible to say. We won’t know anything for certain until the autopsy is complete. However, we will need you to come with us to the Sheriff’s Department to answer some questions.”

  He made it sound like she was a suspect. “Now?”

  Melody walked behind the desk and slid a supportive arm around her shoulders. “If you’re up to it, it would really help with the investigation. I’ll drive you.”

  “But the gallery…”

  Melody’s answer was gentle but firm. “I’m sure Victor will understand if you close early. I don’t think you’ll lose any customers at this point on a Monday.”

  Laurel glanced around the empty room. “Uh…I guess not.”

  “Get your coat and purse.” Melody turned to the deputy. “You can go on. We’ll be right behind you.”

  “Okay. I’ll radio ahead, and one of the detectives will meet you.”

  When he closed the door behind him, the jingling bell nudged Laurel from her stupor. She set her purse on the desk and shrugged into her coat. “He sounded like he thinks I’m responsible for Richard’s death. You don’t think I did something to hurt Richard, do you?”

  “Nobody thinks you did anything to Richard.” Melody shepherded her out of the shop. “But you’re the only one in town who knew the man—the only one who can tell us about him, his life, his contacts.”

  “But his death could still turn out to be an accident.” Laurel stubbornly clung to the idea. “The deputy said they couldn’t be certain until the autopsy is complete.”

  “The Medical Examiner is working on it now. She might be finished by the time we get to the Sheriff’s Department in Salinas, but in the meantime, you can help fill in some details like his next of kin.” She opened the passenger’s door of the Carmel PD cruiser parked at the curb.

  They turned onto Ocean Avenue, continued up the hill for several blocks, waited at the light in front of the high school, and then merged left into the slow-moving rush hour traffic on Highway 1.

  Laurel stared out the window at the line of cars streaming past in the southbound lane. “Why do we have to go all the way to Salinas? It would be so much easier to take care of this in Carmel.”

  Melody glanced at the traffic in her rearview mirror then pulled into the righthand lane ahead of the exit to Salinas, home of the county seat. “It would be more convenient but not the best idea in the long run. Our department is too small to have a full-time detective, so we take turns. It happens to be my turn right now, but since we’re friends, all I can do is sit in. I can’t conduct an interview with you by myself. Besides, we don’t get a lot of murders in Carmel. I can’t remember the last one. We’re better off letting an experienced detective from the Sheriff’s Department take the lead.”

  Laurel nodded. “I guess. I just want it to be over.” Her voice dropped. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”

  It had started raining again, and she rested her head against the side window, staring at the drops dribbling down the glass of the front windshield beyond the reach of the wiper blades. It was only five o’clock, but the rain had washed away the last of the afternoon light. The steady flow of oncoming headlights lit the transparent droplets like silvered beads of liquid mercury.

  Melody cast her a quick side glance then returned her attention to the road. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now. I know you and Richard had split up, but still…”

  “I’m not sure how I feel. Mostly, I’m in shock. Until three weeks ago, I thought I loved him. I realize now that man was an illusion, but I certainly never wished him dead.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.” Melody reached over and squeezed Laurel’s hand.

  When they reached the sprawling, gray concrete building that housed the Monterey County Sheriff’s Department, Melody parked in front. Inside, she gave her name at the information desk, and an officer escorted them to a small, windowless room with a table, several chairs, and a large plate-glass mirror on one wall. After a couple of minutes, a chunky, middle-aged man in a shapeless brown suit appeared and introduced himself as Detective Hernandez.

  “Have a seat, Ms. McDowell.”

  He gestured toward one of the simple wooden chairs on the far side of the table, then settled himself opposite her and opened a folder filled with papers. Melody took the chair beside him.

  “First, Ms. McDowell, let me offer my condolences. I understand you were engaged to the deceased, Richard Vargis.”

  Melody leaned forward with a tilt of her head. “Were you able to get a positive ID then, Jorge?”

  The detective nodded. “Through the dental records.” He turned back to Laurel. “Dr. Benson was very cooperative. Thank you for giving us her information.”

  “Of course.”

  “So, back to your relationship with the deceased…”

  Detective Hernandez kept the tone of his questions neutral as he asked about Richard’s family, his business, and their engagement. Laurel handled them well until he asked her to describe the incident Thanksgiving morning. She had largely succeeded in putting it out of her mind, at least while she was awake. She wasn’t as lucky when she slept. Being forced to visualize, and then recount, every detail brought the fear rushing to the forefront again. By the time she finished, she was a dizzy, nauseous mess.

  Melody cast her a worried look. “Are we about finished her
e, Jorge?”

  The detective ran his gaze down his notes. “For now.” He closed his folder, pushed back from the table, and stood. “Thank you for your help, Ms. McDowell. We’ll be in touch if we have further questions.”

  Before Laurel could reply, a knock sounded at the door, and an officer poked his head in. Detective Hernandez spoke to the man briefly in hushed tones then accepted another folder. The officer closed the door, and Hernandez returned to the table, reading the contents of the folder while Melody and Laurel waited.

  When he finished, he closed the folder and looked up. “The coroner’s report.”

  Melody’s brows rose. “That was quick.”

  “The ME is very efficient. Fortunately, we don’t have a backlog of bodies in this county.”

  “Was she able to determine cause of death?”

  “According to the report, the body had suffered a lot of damage, but the cause of death was a deep stab wound directly to the heart with a long, thin blade.” He pinned Laurel with a sharp gaze. “Can you think of anyone with a motive and the skills to do that to Mr. Vargis?”

  She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. She hadn’t considered the actual means of Richard’s death in a concrete way before. Part of her had still held out hope that it would turn out to be an accident. He was a strong, forceful person, not always pleasant or likeable, but she couldn’t imagine anyone who hated him enough to stab him to death. Stabbing was so brutal, so personal. She shuddered. “Absolutely not.”

  The detective’s frown deepened, but he said nothing more and left the room with the door open.

  Melody turned to Laurel. “I know that was difficult. Are you ready to go?”

  “More than ready.” Her legs felt about as steady as a pair of rubber bands, but she pushed herself up from the chair and picked up her purse and coat.

  As they walked back to the lobby, Melody asked, “Would you like to stop for dinner on the way back? I can call Paul and let him know I’m tied up.”

  Laurel’s stomach rebelled at the mention of food. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry, and besides, I’ve kept you from your family enough over the past few weeks. I just want to go home.”

  “I understand.”

  When they neared the main door, a man rose from a bench and approached them. Laurel’s gaze darted to his face and stopped. It was Jake Carlson, and he looked ready to wrestle a bear.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jake’s jaw tightened as he took in Laurel’s slumped posture and the fatigue in her eyes. The body on Carmel Beach had been the talk of the office all day, but he hadn’t thought much about it until Melody had given him a heads-up call on her way to meet the deputy at Gallery St. James. He’d driven to the Sheriff’s Department headquarters the minute he wrapped things up at work and waited for Hernandez to finish his interview.

  Melody Hardison glanced in his direction. “Hi, Jake.”

  Laurel stared at him as if he were a one-eyed green alien. “What are you doing here?”

  Maybe he shouldn’t have come, but he cared about what happened to her. He’d watched her ex-fiancé put a gun to her head, and now the SOB was dead. Jake hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else since Melody’s call. “I’m here to give you a ride.”

  Auburn brows pinched together. “Melody drove me.”

  The confusion in her eyes disturbed him, so he kept his explanation calm and patient. “Yes, but it’s miles out of her way to take you home. It’s much more convenient for me.”

  Laurel shook her head, her eyes still questioning. “But my car is still in Carmel.”

  “I can pick you up in the morning and drop you in town on my way to work. You shouldn’t be driving now.”

  Her body stiffened. “Hold on a minute. You can’t tell me—”

  Melody placed a calming hand on Laurel’s arm. “I’ll drive you to your car. I have to go back to Carmel anyway.” She turned to Jake. “If you like, you can follow us. I’ll leave it to the two of you to work out the transportation arrangements from there. How’s that?”

  He nodded. The half-hour drive to Carmel would give Laurel more time to recover. He would re-assess her condition when they arrived.

  In the parking lot, he climbed into his truck and waited for Melody’s squad car to pull out, then followed. Thankfully, the rain had stopped. All the way back, he struggled with what to say to Laurel. He didn’t believe for a second that she’d had anything to do with her ex’s death, and he wanted to think that with the man out of the way, she was no longer in danger. However, the question of the missing flash drive added a whole new wrinkle. Jake believed Laurel when she claimed to know nothing about it, but if there was such a drive, and Vargis was desperate enough to travel all the way from Seattle to retrieve it, it might contain information about his connection to the Russian mafia that would be critical to the FBI investigation. Of course, that was only speculation, but the fact that the man was now dead added credence to the possibility.

  He continued to follow the police cruiser until it pulled to a stop on a residential street behind Laurel’s yellow Beetle. He waited while she climbed out, and waved to Melody as she drove off. In the absence of street lights, the bright beams of the truck’s headlights provided the only illumination. Before Laurel could unlock her car, Jake hopped out of the truck and strode over. She turned, but the deep shadows across her face prevented him from reading her expression.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “Are you sure? I’d be happy to drive you back to your car in the morning.” Her voice sounded stronger, but he didn’t feel good about her driving home alone. “The roads are still wet, and this highway is challenging in the dark, under the best conditions.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She released her breath in a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt earlier, but I’d just had a big shock. I know you were only trying to help.”

  “You might think you’re fine, but you have to be wrung out. Being questioned by law enforcement is always an ordeal, even if the investigator makes an effort not to be a jackass. If you won’t accept a ride, at least let me follow you.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “If it will make you feel better.”

  “It will.”

  He waited while she climbed into her car and started the engine.

  Before she pulled away from the curb, she rolled down the window and glanced up. “Thank you.”

  Jake smiled. “You’re welcome.” As she drove off slowly, he hopped in his truck and caught up before she reached the end of the block.

  All the way south, he stayed far enough back to keep her car beyond the reach of his headlights. Laurel had enough to worry about without being blinded in her rearview mirror. Maybe it was because they had missed rush hour, or maybe it was because it was the Monday after Thanksgiving and most of the tourists had left, but they had the highway largely to themselves.

  When she slowed and turned into the parking lot at Earthly Delights, he sighed in relief and continued to follow her down the gravel driveway until she parked in front of the house. They both got out, and she walked back to meet him.

  As she hefted her purse onto one shoulder, her body seemed to sink under its weight. “Thanks again for the escort. That drive wasn’t much fun. I guess I was more tired than I realized.”

  “Do you want to go over to the restaurant and grab some dinner?”

  She hesitated and stared down the driveway toward the lights twinkling through the trees. “I don’t think so. I don’t have much appetite, and I’m not ready for a conversation with my mother about what happened…to Richard.” With those last words, she swayed briefly before catching herself.

  Jake immediately wrapped a supportive arm around her waist and was rewarded when she allowed her weight to rest against him for a moment. “It’s chilly and damp out here. Let’s go inside, and I’ll make you a plate of my famous scrambled eggs while you change. They’re the perfect thing for the post-interrogation blahs.�
�

  Her lips tightened. “Thanks for reminding me.” But she didn’t resist as he walked her toward the house. “I thought you said you couldn’t cook.”

  “My repertoire is pretty small, but remember, I’m a farm boy. If there’s one thing I can cook, it’s eggs.”

  He waited while she unlocked the door, then followed her inside, where Rufus greeted them with a hungry meow.

  Laurel bent to scratch his head. “Hey, buddy. Want some dinner?”

  Jake tossed his jacket across the back of a dark brown leather chair and loosened his tie. “I’ll take him into the kitchen and feed him before I start the eggs. You go on up and get comfortable.”

  She regarded him with skepticism then sighed. “A little voice inside tells me I should object, but I don’t have the energy. Besides, what woman in her right mind would refuse to exchange a skirt and heels for flannel pants and puffy slippers, if given half a chance?”

  “Exactly. I’ll see you in the kitchen in fifteen minutes.” He glanced down at the cat, who eyed him with suspicion. “Come on, you monster.” Laurel’s laugh followed him down the hall.

  In the kitchen, he poked around the cupboards until he found a large, open bag of dry cat food and filled Rufus’s bowl. Then he began to gather the ingredients for dinner. Rosemary kept her refrigerator well-stocked, and Jake had no problem finding everything he needed. By the time Laurel wandered into the kitchen, he had bread in the toaster and a skillet of scrambled eggs with fresh chives on the stove.

  She padded up beside him and peered into the pan. “I have to admit, that does look pretty good.”

  “And it will taste even better.” He dished a big spoonful onto a plate and handed it to her as the toaster dinged. “Here. Grab a couple slices of toast, and I’ll join you in a second.”

  Minutes later they were seated at the kitchen table. While they ate, Jake kept the conversation light. He had questions for Laurel about Richard and his business, but they could wait until she had a chance to recover more fully from the trauma of the afternoon. She looked so young and vulnerable, bent over her plate, dressed in a loose sweatshirt and pink-and-purple plaid pants, with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. However, with each bite, her energy seemed to improve, which pleased him. After they finished, he rose and reached for her dirty dishes.