Family Skeletons Read online

  “Well, good morning, Jonathan. I’ve never seen you up this early.”

  “I missed you. What is that? If it tastes as good as it smells you could probably talk me into trying one.”

  “Get a plate. Coffee’s ready, too.”

  As he poured a cup he eyed the ancient, scratched-up thermos next to the coffee pot. “What’s that for?”

  “Making friends. It’s a kitchen holdover I hadn’t thrown away, just in case. I scrubbed it, scalded the inside, and I’m gonna take coffee and muffins down to the beach. If I’m armed with food maybe I won’t get chased away as soon as I get there.”

  “Good idea.” He shoved the rest of his muffin into his mouth. “Let’s go. And pack a couple extra of those cupcakes, or whatever they are. I’m not through.”

  Even though they each wore sweats, they shivered. Though it was light outside, the sun hadn’t yet overpowered the morning clouds. Halfway to the cliff, Jonathan stopped and jogged in place. Sunny evidently wasn’t walking fast enough for him so she broke into a run and sprinted past him. She wasn’t the fastest she’d ever been, but at least her muscles cooperated. She heard his laugh. Then he caught up and matched his pace to hers until they reached the barrier of orange tape.

  Two pup tents rested inside the cove, one at the top of the small hill where the skeleton lay, and another in front of it at the base of the incline to guard it. A man in a heavy jacket, police issue, sat on the sand outside the foremost one, on the trail’s side. He looked curiously up at them. He didn’t appear unfriendly.

  “Hi,” Sunny said, holding up the thermos and bag of muffins. “I’m Laurel Corday, but call me Sunny. And this is my cousin—very distant, family wise—Jonathan Corday. We’ll exchange food for conversation.”

  “You’ve got a deal.” The policeman got to his feet in a smooth, unbroken motion. “But I’ll come up there. I could get in big trouble if I let you come down here.” Tall and bony, but not awkward, he climbed the trail faster than Sunny could have.

  “Thanks,” he said, accepting the coffee. “My name’s Joyce.”

  Jonathan squinted. “Uh...”

  “Gotcha.” He grinned. “Deputy Timothy Joyce. Call me Tim.” He opened the bag of muffins. “Still warm.” He bit into one then held it away and gave it an approving look. “That’s real jam in there.”

  “No big feat. A combination of Bisquick and Mary Ellen.” Sunny looked down the slope. “What were you able to get accomplished yesterday?”

  “We got it partially uncovered, but still a lot of work left before it can be hauled away. Forensic people are fussy. Cameras were snapping shots from every angle. I was never so glad when everybody left last night and I could finally just sit and enjoy the ocean. It’s pretty out here.”

  Joyce chose another muffin, then offered the bag back to them. “Too many in here for me. I’ll share.”

  Sunny shook her head, but Jonathan took one. “Thanks,” he said. “Is the Coast Guard coming in? We heard that—”

  “That’s no drowning victim. I’m no forensics expert, but it’s lying on its front and there’s a big dent in the back of the skull.”

  His audience said nothing. He paused in the act of lifting the thermos to his lips. “Hey, I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth.”

  “No,” Sunny said. “That’s why I came down here. I want to know.”

  He gave her a long look. “Those scratches on your face tell me you’re the one who took that header from up here. But you didn’t land on the skeleton, did you? It doesn’t appear to have been disturbed for a long time.”

  “No. But it...its hiding place was uncovered as a result of my fall.”

  He drained the thermos and started on the last muffin. “You better not take another tumble. Those berry bushes are gone and won’t save you again.” He looked down the incline as he chewed. “When you fell, where did you settle? Farther down the slope, I’ll bet.”

  She nodded.

  “Good hiding place down there. Made to order. Pull that body back a little ways, throw some driftwood or anything else on top of it, make the spot look really natural, cover it up with sand and spread the vines over it. Not too much work. And it remained hidden for what looks like a mighty long time.”

  “Could a woman have managed to do all that?” Sunny asked. She frowned against the sick feeling building in her stomach.

  “He’d been hit from behind, most likely was surprised, so he wasn’t fighting back. Doesn’t preclude a female perp.” Joyce shrugged. “As for the rest of it, it depends on how much time she had, how much the body weighed. My guess is a woman could’ve done it with enough time. Pretty much isolated out here. She, he, anyone, would’ve had plenty of time.”

  Joyce dusted his hands free of crumbs. “Excellent muffins. By the way, I don’t know if it’s going to be good news or not, but you’re going to get a new pathway down to there. Hendricks took a fall yesterday and ordered it ASAP.”

  “Who’s Hendricks?” Jonathan asked. “He must be high up on the authority list if he can make that kind of order.”

  “Yeah, he’s one of the big guns. I don’t know which we had more of yesterday, generals or soldiers. Tom Fairly, you know him?”

  His listeners nodded.

  “He’s a good guy. But Hendricks is just full of himself and when he took that fall, I thought Tom was gonna bust a gullet holding in the guffaws. And he wasn’t the only one. You never saw so many strained faces around here. Hendricks ended up with his head stuck in the sand and his butt in the air. Made a memorable picture.”

  His gaze moved beyond them. “Well, here we go. My last chance to negotiate that cool trail you’ve got there.”

  They turned and saw a bulldozer approaching, led by one official four-wheel drive vehicle and followed by another.

  “They’re getting an early start,” Jonathan said.

  “Yeah, and I better get back down there,” the lawman said. “I was told not to talk to or even look at anybody who came from around here, even if their name was Corday.” He tipped an imaginary hat to Sunny. “Thanks for the treat. Worth the lecture I’ll get.”

  She accepted the empty thermos and bag, and Deputy Tim Joyce negotiated the trail on his way down as if he were part mountain goat.

  The sun finally made its appearance while she and Jonathan walked toward the oncoming vehicles. Trying to get her mind away from the skeleton, Sunny wondered which she enjoyed most at the beach, sunrise or sunset. And how long it would be before she’d truly be able to enjoy either one again.

  The lead vehicle gained speed and pulled away from the procession, then came to a stop next to Jonathan and Sunny. The passenger’s window rolled down. “Your name Corday?” asked a gruff voice.

  They nodded.

  “I understand you may think you have a personal stake here, but you still don’t belong down there at the beach. Consider it off limits until we pull out of here. Is that understood?”

  He got two distinct frowns in response.

  The window rolled up, and the black and white four-wheeler continued on its way.

  “That must be one of Deputy Joyce’s chiefs,” Sunny said. “That was no peon.”

  “Hope it was Hendricks,” Jonathan said. “He deserves to have his head stuck in the sand and his butt in the air.”

  She gave him a quick look. “Dr. Corday, I do believe I’m seeing a side of you I never saw before. You’ve got a touch of spite in you.”

  * * *

  Sunny and Cat sat at the top of the stairs and listened to the voices in the attic. It was cramped quarters up there and another body, especially one who wasn’t going to be lifting anything heavy and who was too sore to climb the ladder in the first place, wasn’t needed.

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “That’s a beautiful piece of furniture.”

  “I’ve dusted it,” Jonathan said. “And once we get it downstairs I want to apply some lemon oil. It’s not scratched up, not that I can tell in this light, and I think I can rub a nice shine into
it.”

  “Labor of love. I don’t know if I’d have the patience.”

  “Look at that dressmaker’s dummy,” Marcus said. “Halloween’s coming up. Think of the fun one could have with that thing.”

  There was a short silence. “To each his own,” Ryan said.

  Cat struggled to get out of Sunny’s arms, but she wasn’t needed in the attic either. Sunny got to her feet, put the pet inside her old bedroom and closed the door. Returning to the same space she’d just vacated, she situated herself with her back against the wall and drew her knees up in front of her. If she moved carefully, it wasn’t too bad.

  “Ow!” The word exploded out of the attic, and Sunny grinned. That was Ryan. She wondered who was next. Marcus was smart enough to watch where he was going, and Jonathan had had practice dodging the rafters.

  “Dammit!”

  Her grin grew. Yep, Ryan might know the inside of his mind, but he didn’t know how to protect the outside of it.

  She worked her way to her feet and went to the ladder. She put one foot on the bottom step, waited for her body to protest, then went up one more stair. No bones creaked, so she kept going and poked her head into the attic.

  “Hi, Sunny,” Marcus said. “Took you longer to get up here than I thought it would.”

  “You can have the dummy,” she said. She grinned, then giggled. “Both of them.”

  Jonathan broke into a laugh.

  “Sunny?” Ryan wasn’t amused. “You looking for some more bruises?”

  “Sorry,” she said, figuring she looked anything but contrite. “Couldn’t resist.”

  Then she asked, “How long are you guys going to wander around up here? Isn’t it time you got to work?”

  Marcus was closest to the ladder. “If you’ll get back down there and give me some room, they can start handing stuff down to me.”

  The Victrola found a nice home in the front downstairs bedroom on top of several newspapers. That room had the largest windows and the best light. Jonathan already had his favorite brand of lemon oil on hand and looked like he couldn’t wait to get started. But he surprised everyone by grabbing a broom, the dustpan and a plastic garbage bag, and then climbing back up into the empty attic.

  Sunny smiled at the looks on her friends’ faces. “What can I say? He’s got a thing about clean.”

  There was a short silence. “To each his own,” Ryan said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I never liked it in here,” Sunny said with a frown. “It’s spooky.”

  She stood next to Jonathan inside the shadowy interior of the cypress grove. Ryan and Marcus, who were slightly ahead of them, looked around with interest. Sunny shivered, lending credence to her words. Little sunlight got past the canopy of trees and it was chilly; she wondered if the ground in here ever completely dried out. The trees appeared ancient and their exposed root systems lent a skeletal effect to the scene. One tree had split, and its fallen half offered a perfect backless bench. Nature’s furniture. She stared at it but wasn’t inclined to sit on it.

  The men were discussing the numerous shell casings that littered the ground along with a heavy layer of dried cypress branches and cones. As she listened to them speculate about the guns the spent shells had come out of, she wondered if any one of them really knew what he was talking about. She was surprised at the small number of cans and bottles. Within the grove itself the shooters had apparently been satisfied with stationary targets.

  Jonathan wandered away, and then he laughed and motioned for her to join him. He was admiring what must have been, judging by the pockmarks in it, a favorite target. Nailed to a tree was a campaign poster featuring the unlikable likeness of Hendricks. They shared smiles.

  Apparently becoming bored with the shells, Ryan looked up. He breathed deeply, as if testing the air. “Surrounded by nature in here. You may not appreciate it, Sunny, but I could learn to like this place.”

  The four of them wandered the grove, skirting puddles and roots, and eventually they came to the road, which was nothing more than well-worn tire tracks. It appeared to lead to the highway, as she’d suspected. Farther inland, eucalyptus trees were interspersed among the cypresses. As they walked that way, the terrain became prettier and was easier to traverse. They stopped in a clearing.

  “This is even better,” Ryan said. “Sunshine, wild flowers. Soil must be more fertile in here.” He turned in a slow circle, nodding. “Yeah, this is nice. The beach is fine, but it’s wide open, no shelter. Here you can hear the ocean, you’ve got both shade and sun if you want it, and even flowers. Orange and yellow poppies and whatever that purple bloom is.” He paused, looking at the rectangular section of growth and color. “Looks like a cross between an ice plant and a wild daisy. It’s pretty, whatever it is.” He looked around again. “All you need is a picnic table.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Sunny said. At least it was warmer in the clearing. When she turned to go back, the men fell in step without comment. As they left the grove, a pickup appeared on the road. Sunny watched, wondering if it was going to stop at the house or continue on to the beach. She got her answer when it parked next to the Reviler. A figure emerged from the driver’s side, then reached back inside for something.

  “Bev Wilkes,” Sunny murmured.

  “That’s what’s nice about a small community,” Ryan said, as he watched the person who held a casserole straighten and then nudge the pickup’s door closed with her elbow. “Neighborly.”

  Bev mounted the steps to the porch, then wedged the dish between her arm and stomach in order to free one hand to knock on the door. Sunny called, hoping her voice would carry.

  The woman turned, shielded her eyes, saw them and waved. She smiled as they approached, and then she held up her offering with a hesitant lift of her shoulders. “I wanted to bring some food to help you out. Thought it might make it easier for you after you got hurt. I hope you like macaroni and cheese.”

  “Love it.” Jonathan smiled, supposedly attempting to put her at ease. After opening the house door, he relieved her of the casserole and motioned for her to precede him into the house.

  Ryan said nothing, and Sunny grinned. Mac and cheese was way down on the list of his favorites. He’d probably boil a hot dog for dinner.

  “Thanks, Bev,” she said. “That’s nice of you. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Never drink it. But I wouldn’t say no to a cola.”

  Sunny and Bev sat in lawn chairs on the back porch and the men carried out kitchen chairs for themselves. “We need more outdoor furniture,” Sunny said.

  “What you need is a picnic table, right there.” Ryan pointed.

  “What is this with you and picnic tables?” Marcus asked.

  “Bev, have you met—”

  “Yes, when they came in yesterday and cleaned me out of chicken and ribs. They told me what had happened.” She gave Sunny an appraising glance. “I’m glad to see you up and about, even strong enough to hike to the trees. Is there activity going on over there, too?”

  “No. Not all of us had seen the area over there, so we went exploring.”

  Bev sipped from her drink and sat back. “What’s happening down on the beach?”

  “We’re not allowed down there,” Jonathan said. “Your guess is as good as ours.”

  “Was it a drowning victim?”

  “The consensus seems to be that it’s not,” Sunny said carefully.

  “It might be Franklin.” Bev stared at the floor. “Which could make it tough for you, Sunny. Are you doing okay?”

  “So far.”

  Bev, I want to talk to you, but it’s gotta be in private.

  “Tom was over to talk with Matthew again.” Bev was still staring at the floor. “About your...fall. He asked him outright if he’d been anywhere around. If he had anything to do with it.”

  “Tom’s investigating. He has to do that. Matthew isn’t the only person he’s talked to.”

  “Matthew wasn’t out here yesterday. He and I
worked the store together. I don’t know if Tom believed me, but that’s the truth.”

  Sunny nodded, hoping to soothe the woman’s worry. “Okay. But Tom isn’t accusing anyone of anything, and neither am I. Someone was in the grove with firearms yesterday—I heard rifle reports—at the same time I was pushed. It could be that whoever was there saw something.”

  Bev looked up sharply. “Matthew wasn’t anywhere around here.”

  “Okay.” Sunny felt like she was on the defensive, as if Bev was accusing her of causing trouble. “I believe you. I don’t think Matthew has it in him to willfully hurt somebody. It’s okay, Bev. Tom will talk with the Bowers boys, and they’ll back up your story. Right?”

  “They already have.” Bev’s tension suddenly ebbed. She let her breath out in a rush. “I’m sorry. I’m giving you a bad time, and you were the one who got hurt.”

  She stood abruptly. “I really should be getting back. It’s not fair leaving Matthew in sole charge of the store for very long. I hope you like the casserole.”

  Sunny walked outside with her, leaving the men on the porch. As they stood next to the pickup, the two women looked toward the beach and its bustling activity.

  Bev’s eyes dulled. She appeared to be retreating within herself. “What will they discover? So many years, so much time, so many people, so many secrets. What all will they uncover?”

  At the sound of a vehicle, they turned to look at the road leading in from the highway.

  “Oh, no,” Sunny murmured.

  “You’ve got company,” Bev said. She walked around the front of the pickup and got in, moving fast. She wanted no part of the approaching TV news van. Sunny wanted no part of it either, but she didn’t have the luxury of choice.

  Bev and the van passed each other, and Sunny steeled herself. She hoped the men would stay out of sight. The inevitable questions of relationships might evoke the news people’s interest. The men on the porch would’ve seen the approaching vehicle, but the mesh screen should’ve shielded them from being observed. She recognized the van’s identification letters, which belonged to a fairly reputable news station, and she was grateful it wasn’t the tabloids.