Riptide
Page 46

 Catherine Coulter

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“Oh yeah,” Adam said easily, looking over at Becca, who hadn’t said a single word since Sheriff Gaffney, button sewn back on, bemoaned poor O.J.’s treatment. “She’s still real jittery, Sheriff, jumps whenever there’s a sound in this old house. You know how women are—so sensitive it makes a man want to coddle them until the sun’s shining again.”
“That was well said, Mr. Carruthers. We got us one of our perfect summer days. Just smell the air. All salty ocean and wildflowers, and that sun smell. Nothing like it.
“Ah, here’s Tyler and little Sam. Good morning. Just running down possibilities on Ms. Powell’s skeleton. Could have been Melissa Katzen. Don’t suppose you disguised your voice like a woman’s and called in the tip?”
“Not me, Sheriff,” Tyler said, raising an eyebrow. “Who did you say? Melissa Katzen?”
“Yep, that’s right. You remember her, Tyler? Didn’t you go to school with her? Your ages are about right.”
Tyler slowly lowered Sam to the porch and watched him wander over to a low table that held a stack of books, some of them very old indeed.
“Melissa Katzen.” Tyler frowned. “Yes, I remember her. A real sweet kid. I think she might have been in my high school class, or maybe a year behind me. I’m just not sure. She wasn’t really pretty, but she was nice, never said a bad thing about anybody, as I remember. You really think she could be the skeleton?”
“Don’t know. Got an anonymous call about her.”
Tyler frowned a bit. “I think I remember hearing that she was going to elope, yeah, that was it. She eloped and no one ever heard from her again.”
Sheriff Gaffney said, “Yep, that’s the story. Now DNA will tell us, at least if what those labs claim is true. Well, it’s time for me to see the power company. Then I’ll call that Jarvis guy in Augusta, see what they’re doing.”
Sam was holding a small, thick paperback in his hands.
Adam dropped down to his knees and looked at the little book with a fancy attack helicopter on the cover. He said, “It’s Jane’s Aircraft Recognition Guide. I wonder what Jacob Marley was doing with one of Jane’s publications?”
“Jane?” Sam said.
“Yeah, I know, that’s a girl’s name. Hey, they’re Brits, Sam. You’ve got to expect them to do weird things.”
Becca said, “Hey, Sam, you want a glass of lemonade? I just made some this morning.”
Sam looked up at her, didn’t say anything, but finally nodded.
Tyler said, his chin up, a hint of the aggressor in his voice, “Sam loves Becca’s lemonade.”
“I do, too,” Adam said. “Now, I’m out of here. I’ll be back tonight, Becca.”
She wanted to ask him where he was going, who he was going to talk to, but she couldn’t say a blasted thing in front of Tyler. “Take care,” she called out after him. She saw Adam pause just a moment, but he didn’t turn back.
“I don’t like him, Becca,” Tyler said in a low voice a few minutes later in the kitchen, one eye on Sam, who was drinking his lemonade and looking for the goody in the box of Cracker Jacks Becca had handed him.
“He’s harmless,” she said easily. “Really harmless. I’m sure he’s gay. So you knew this Melissa Katzen?”
Tyler nodded and took another drink of his lemonade. “Like I told the sheriff, she was a nice kid. Not real popular, not real smart, but nice. She also played soccer. I remember once she beat me in poker.” Tyler grinned at some memory. “Yeah, it was strip poker. I think I was the first guy she’d ever seen in boxer shorts.”
“Rachel makes good lemonade,” Sam said, and both adults looked at him with admiration. He’d said four whole words, strung them all together.
Becca patted his face. “I’ll bet Rachel does lots of really good things. She rented me this house, you know.”
Sam nodded and drank more lemonade.
After they’d left ten minutes later to go grocery shopping, Becca cleaned up the kitchen and headed upstairs. She made her bed and straightened the bedroom. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Adam Carruthers, but she sighed and walked down to his bedroom. The bed was neatly made. Nothing was out in plain sight. She walked over to the dresser and pulled out the top drawer. Underwear, T-shirts, and a couple of folded cotton shirts. Nothing else. She pulled his dark blue carryall out from under the bed. She lifted it on top of the bed and slowly started to pull back the long zipper.