Alki point, p.9
Alki Point, page 9
part #1 of Reed Carver Mystery Series
She was right. He didn’t recall her saying a thing.
The Bag
A brief time later Kim arrived at the landing and found an open parking spot. She was relieved to see the reserved parking place that normally held Angela’s car was empty. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Angela, but she felt more comfortable talking with only Reed today. She fingered the brown bag on the front seat trying to decide whether to take it or not. Then, grabbing the bag, she decided to put all her faith and trust in Reed. She got out of the car and clutched the bag to her chest as she walked down the dock to the Grey Kraken and rang the brass bell next to the front door.
The door opened, and Reed stood there with his arms open and a big smile on his face, “Kaykay, come here and give me a hug. It’s been ages.”
She could see the bags under his eyes and knew that she had probably robbed him of some much-needed sleep. As he gave her a bear hug, she apologized for disturbing his morning, “Uncle Reed, I am so sorry for getting you up, but I really, really need to talk to you.”
Reed looked at the brown paper bag Kim held to her chest, “Did you bring me a gift?”
Kim glanced behind her and around the dock area with the look of someone who thinks they are being followed.
“Can we go inside? I’ll be more comfortable in there.”
Reed waved her in, “Of course. We’ll sit in the kitchen. Would you like a cup of coffee or tea? Or hot chocolate?”
She relaxed a bit, “Hot chocolate sounds great. But I really can’t stay for too long. Mom and I are having a mother-daughter day today and I said I would be back in two hours. She thinks I am just out for a drive right now to clear my head.”
Reed responded, “No problem. Why don’t you tell me what you would like to talk about while I warm some milk for your cocoa?”
Kim started with a question, “Has dad asked you to help find out what happened to the girl that died at the boat launch ramp?”
Reed figured there was no point in lying, “Yes he did. In fact, I was just starting to look into it last night.”
“I hoped he would. You are so good; I know you will find out what happened.”
Reed answered, “I hope so.”
She asked another question, “Does he think her boyfriend Keith was involved?”
Reed knew he needed to be careful with how he answered this question and how much he should share with Kim, “I think he suspects everyone at this point. You know I really can’t tell you much more right now and that is for your own good. I can only tell you that somebody was with Marissa when she died, but there is no strong lead on who that was. Do you know something that might help?”
Kim began to talk about her conversations with Keith. As Reed listened, he opened a tin container and scooped two portions of his home recipe cocoa mix into the cast iron saucepan of hot milk. He stirred the mixture until it was smooth and poured the steaming beverage into a white ceramic mug that was decorated with a blue octopus painted on the side. Finally, he topped the hot chocolate off with a scoop of whipped cream and set the cup in front of Kim. He sat down across the table and sipped at his coffee while he listened to, and observed, the young women he had known since the day she was born. She was a smart girl and had a good head on her shoulders. He knew he could trust her judgment and listened carefully as she described Keith and his friendship with Marissa. Reed began to believe that the young man was probably not involved in Marissa’s death.
Feeling better and more relaxed than a little earlier, Reed broke into Kim’s dialogue. He could tell she was under stress and he needed to lighten the conversation.
“How is the hot chocolate? It is my favorite recipe. Cocoa powder, a touch of sugar, and a pinch of chili pepper topped off with real whipped cream. You are lucky there was some whipped cream in the fridge. Angela and I had fresh berries from the market yesterday and whipped up a bowl to top them off. There was just enough left over for your cocoa.”
Kim wiped a cream mustache off her upper lip, “Yum. It is absolutely perfect.”
She was thankful for the break. She didn’t know how her uncle would react to what she was about to share. Kim set the mug down and leaned over to pick the paper bag up off the floor.
She set the bag on the table and looked into Reeds eyes. “There is more. But please, before you jump to conclusions, let me explain.”
Her trembling hands opened the bag. Remembering how she had reacted when she first saw its contents, she wanted to prepare Reed before revealing what was inside.
“Keith told me that Marissa had mental health issues. She suffered from bouts of depression that would debilitate her. Her father and schoolmates wrote off her mood swings as just being difficult and self-centered. Keith was one of the only people she trusted to talk with and open up about her struggles. One of the things she shared was that she was into cutting on herself, something she had successfully hidden from everyone else. When he found out about the cutting, he tried to understand.”
She paused, “Uncle Reed, I believe him. I know other girls at school that have done the same thing. He said that he and Marissa made a pact to work together to help her stop. She gave him these to prove that she was trying to quit.”
As she said this, Kim dumped the bag’s contents onto the table. The sight made him catch his breath. The assortment of bloody blades and scalpels spread across the kitchen table was bad enough, but it was the wooden handled pick that caught his attention.
“Crap.” He whispered.
“What?” Kim asked, not able to make out the whisper.
“Nothing. I, I guess I just don’t understand anyone doing this to themselves.”
Kim responded “I’m not sure the kids that do it understand either. It is part of depression and, unfortunately, it is pretty widespread.”
Reed couldn’t wrap his mind around it. School had always had its pressures, but he didn’t remember anything like this when he was that age. Not kids cutting themselves. If it did happen, he was never aware of it.
But what bothered him even more than the array of tools the girl had supposedly used for self-mutilation was the small pick. Not only did it seem oddly out of place, it matched the autopsy report that a sharp pick-like object had penetrated Marissa’s brain.
His mind was swirling with questions when Kim spoke up, “If Keith was found with these the police would assume that he had something to do with Marissa’s death, so he asked me to hide them. But if I am found with them, the police will think I was trying to help a potential suspect.”
“You ARE trying to help a suspect. And now you have brought me into the circle. What are you thinking?” Reed asked and was immediately sorry for having said it.
“Uncle Reed, I am sorry, but Keith didn’t have anything to do with Marissa’s death. You can help prove he is innocent.”
Reed sat and thought. By all rights, he should turn this over to the police immediately. It could be important evidence in a murder investigation. At the very least he should share it with Kim’s father. But Kim had spent time with Keith and trusted the boy. Reed knew there was a possibility that the boy was using Kim, but he also believed in intuition and was leaning toward trusting Kim’s, at least for now.”
He looked across the table, “Alright Kaykay. I’ll hold onto these for now while I try to verify Keith’s story. But here’s the deal. Whatever I find, I will have to take it to the police, even if it implicates Keith.”
“Fair enough, but it won’t.” She paused, “Is Aunt Angela helping you on this?
“I will probably ask for her help. Why?”
“I was just hoping you would. She sees things other don’t. Just, please don’t tell my father about our conversation. And ask Angela not to share any of this with my mom either.”
Kim got up and gave Reed a hug.
“I better go now. Thanks again Uncle Reed. I love you.”
“You be careful Kaykay. I know you have good common sense, but you need to be extra careful right now. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Reed followed Kim up the dock to her car and watched as she drove away, hoping he had done the right thing in taking the bag. He would not share Kim’s visit with Terry. He was not ready to break his trust with Kim, at least not yet. Not until he completed more research.
Kim left feeling that she had done the right thing and believing more in Keith and his innocence.
Intuition
It was a little after twelve when Angela arrived home from the shop. Reed was in the kitchen preparing a grilled chicken salad when he heard the front door open. “Is that you hon?”
Angela answered, “Sure is. I smell food. What are you cooking up for us?”
“Us? Well I was throwing together a chicken salad for ME, but I can throw a few more chicken strips into the pan and brown them up, no problem. How’s the shop?”
“It looks great. We added a new line of dresses and Maggie set up an awesome window display. She asked for my help, but she didn’t need it. She is fantastic. I am so glad we hired her. How was your morning? Have you been up long?”
“Actually, I have been up long. Since about seven o’clock to be exact. Probably right after you left. Kaykay stopped by for a visit.”
“Kim? What was she doing over this way?”
“I’ll tell you all about it over lunch. Why don’t you open a bottle of Chardonnay? It will go well with this killer salad I am making, plus I think you may need a little wine when you hear Kim’s story.”
Reed had already torn several spinach leaves into a large bowl and tossed in some mushrooms and black olives. Now he placed the hot chicken strips over the spinach, ground a little fresh black pepper over the bowl, poured on a generous amount of Caesar salad dressing, and then topped the whole thing with a fine layer of fresh grated Parmesan cheese.
“Voile, lunch is served.”
He set the bowl on the kitchen table where Angela had just set the place mats and wine glasses.
“Okay, don’t keep me waiting. What was Kim doing here? Isn’t it a school day?”
“Michelle called the school and gave her the day off so they could spend the afternoon together. Kim came over here without Michelle knowing so she could share some information about the Alki incident. I promised that you and I would keep her conversation between us. I think for the time being, it’s best that Terry and Michelle do not know anything about what Kim said and showed me this morning. When and if I feel it is appropriate, I will share it with Terry.”
Michelle set down her wine glass.
“Now you really have me curious. So, what did Kim say?”
Reed recounted Kim’s story and described the bag with its macabre contents. Angela pushed her plate away and took another sip of wine.
“I think any appetite that I had a few moments ago just left me. I had no idea that Kim was so wrapped up in this.”
Reed had not had a chance to tell Angela about his conversation with Terry the prior evening.
“It gets even more complicated. Terry told me some information that has not been made public.”
He pushed back from the table and picked up their glasses.
“Let’s go out to the other room where it’s more comfortable. This is going to take some time.”
Reed and Angela left the kitchen area and stepped down into the sunken family room overlooking the lake. After Angela had made herself comfortable in the old overstuffed leather sofa, Reed paced back and forth in front of the picture window as he began laying out everything he knew, starting with the time of the girl’s death the day before she was found and working through the details of her injuries. He told how the police had observed Kim spending time with Keith and how Robert had asked Terry to let her see the boy in hopes that he would share something in confidence with her and that her conscience would, in turn, lead her to share that with her father. And finally, he recounted again the conversation he had just had with Kim and described the bag of blades and pick she had entrusted to him.
Angela got out of the couch and walked over to Reed to wrap her arms around him.
“Wow, that’s a lot to absorb. Are you going to tell Terry or the investigators about the bag?”
Reed was hugging Angela back as he answered.
“Not yet. The articles in the bag might trigger the police to jump to conclusions and arrest Keith. Odd as it may sound; I am not so sure he did it. I would rather keep this to us and snoop around for a couple of days without the authorities stirring things up. Also, I would like your help with this one love. I could use your intuition to help sniff out where this leads to. Kaykay even suggested you help. I didn’t realize others recognized your special powers.” He made haunting sound with his voice and Angela hit his shoulder as she threatened to put a curse on him.
In fact, Angela regularly helped Reed with his research. Reed called her intuitive but several of their friends believed she was downright psychic. She enjoyed reading Tarot cards and had successfully forecast several major events in the lives of their friends. She also had a perfect record in predicting the sexes of their friend’s babies’ months before they were born and that seemed to impress her friends the most. Angela attributed her mystical side to her Irish/Scottish ancestry. Her parents had often recounted stories of several generations of relatives on both sides of her family that displayed uncanny abilities. Reed just called Angela his personal sorceress. Whatever the explanation, Angela could read people and situations and get to the truth like no one else he knew.
“Sure, I’ll help. But I am a little curious that you believe Keith’s explanation to Kim so easily. And if not Keith, then who did kill the girl.”
“Let’s just say I am going with my own intuition at this point. I think it is almost too convenient to suspect the boy. I want to see if it is possible to eliminate him as a suspect and, at the same time, come up with some other potential candidates. If not, then maybe he actually is the person responsible.”
Chapter 7
Memorial
Friday morning Reed was up early for Marissa Archer’s memorial service in Gig Harbor. The service was scheduled for eleven o’clock and he figured he could make the drive in a little under two hours with morning traffic, so he wanted to be out of the door by nine. He had a restless night and had been up since seven, an unheard-of time for Reed. He and Angela took advantage of his early rising and enjoyed a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs together.
The two hadn’t spoken much about the case since the day before and Reed was still not in the mood for talking. It seemed that the more he thought about Marissa, the more Terry’s melancholy was rubbing off on him. He hoped he could turn up some information today that might provide some clues he could follow up on. Angela could sense where Reed’s head was and didn’t break into his thoughts. They would talk more when he was ready. Gazing out at the lake in silence they both finished their coffees before Reed stood up and walked to the bedroom to dress for the day.
He decided to wear a comfortable pair of black denim pants and a charcoal grey shirt and black sport coat. People didn’t wear suits to services anymore and he wanted to look respectful and a touch casual at the same time. When Reed had helped Terry before, he found that he had a natural talent for gaining people’s trust and getting them to talk, whoever they may be. Whether it was members of a bike gang or a group of religious missionaries, it didn’t matter, he would dress to blend in, adjust his language, and find common ground for conversation. Then he would probe for the information he wanted.
When he was finished dressing, Reed walked back downstairs and gave Angela a hug before walking out the door without saying a word. He was already shifting from the Reed she knew to the one that would try to connect with the kids at the funeral.
Reed noted that it was a grey day with a light drizzle that had persisted throughout the morning. Conventional thinking would say that it ought to be sunny for a service that should be a celebration of Marissa’s life, but Reed felt the grey and mist more appropriate. They seemed to reflect the cloud of uncertainty around her death and the sadness of a life cut short.
As he entered onto the I-5 freeway, the light morning drizzle was turning into a medium shower and, by the time he was passing Boeing Field twenty minutes later, the showers had turned into a full-on downpour. The Mini’s windshield wipers worked furiously to keep up with the combination of heavy rainfall and the wheel spray kicked up by large semi-truck-trailer rigs he passed as he made his way toward Tacoma.
By the time he reached the turn-off for Gig Harbor, his shoulders ached from fighting the constant hydroplaning of his tires that seemed to conspire to pull the Mini into adjacent lanes and underneath the trucks that towered over him. He didn’t relax until turning off the freeway to his destination.
The memorial service for Marissa was to take place in a funeral home on the edge of town. As Reed approached the harbor, he turned up the volume on his phone to let it guide him the rest of the way. He drove through the central part of town and out the other side before making a series of quick left turns. He was beginning to think he had made a wrong turn and was lost when he looked to his left and spotted the funeral home, an austere looking one-story white building sitting on a slight rise a hundred feet back from the street. A curved drive led up the left side of the well-groomed front lawn to the front entrance where a covered drive-through, supported by two large white pillars, protected visitors from the inclement weather. From there, the drive continued to the right, crossing the building to an adjacent parking lot with another entrance to the street.
The area in front of the home featured a large two-tiered Victorian fountain that sported three angels blowing bugles from the top. Reed found the fountain to be a little too kitsch, but he admired the putting green quality of the turf that surrounded the fountain and was, in turn, framed by a rich assortment of Rhododendrons and Azaleas now in full bloom.
When Reed arrived, it was only 10:40, but he was not surprised to find the funeral home parking lot already full. He suspected that many of the local high school students and their parents would be at the service. Gig Harbor may have grown over the years, but it was still a relatively small town. Events such as the death of a young person tended to bring the community together. After finding a parking place about a block away, Reed exited his car and walked back toward the home.
