Family Skeletons (14 page)

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.

The news van braked, and a woman looked at her from
the passenger’s side. Her eyes were dark-brown and hard, and the red highlights
in her hair appeared natural, as did the gray mixed in with it. If her eyes and
features would soften, just a little, she might be pretty.

“Laurel Corday?”

Sunny nodded, hoping everybody would stay inside the
vehicle.

“Would you consent to a filmed interview?”

She smiled politely. “No, thank you. I don’t know
anything, anyway. The action’s down there.” She looked toward the beach and a
flash bulb went off.

You guys are fast. I didn’t even see a
camera.

She looked back at the van. The photographer was
sitting behind the passenger’s seat. The camera lowered, and he stared
impersonally back at her. Wryly, she remembered Tom’s advice about not posing
for pictures. At least she was in jeans and long sleeves and not showing off
her colorful limbs.

“Was it your father’s skeleton that was found?” the
woman asked.

“We don’t know whose it is yet.”

“Did you see it?”

I almost fell on top of it.
“It was only
partially uncovered.”

“What part?”

Sunny hesitated, then told herself not to hesitate.
“The hand.”

“Did it look like your father’s hand?”

Don’t laugh, Sunny, and don’t get mad.
She’s fishing for a reaction, any reaction. Don’t give her one.
“No.”

“What did it feel like, being that close to a
skeleton that might be your father’s?”

“I don’t have an answer to that question. Excuse me.
I’m going back inside.”

She mounted the porch stairs at an unhurried pace.

“Who was that leaving as we were arriving?”

“Just a friend,” she answered without looking back.
She entered the house. Jonathan stood in the parlor’s doorway, out of their
visitors’ sight. She closed the door behind her and returned his gaze as she
waited to hear the van’s departure. After a short moment, she heard it driving
away.

“I’m glad you didn’t show yourself,” she said. “You
would’ve fueled their interest.”

“That’s what Ryan said. We could hear you from the
porch. You seemed to be handling yourself well.”

I’ve had practice.

Jonathan added, “But weren’t her questions, uh...”

“Unintelligent and meant to provoke? Yes. The trick
is not to react. Be firm and polite and give them nothing.”

“Bore them to death.”

She grinned. “That’s a good way of putting it.
You’ll do well.”

He opened the front door, and they stepped outside
but stayed within the shelter of the porch where they wouldn’t be readily seen.
The van’s occupants had disembarked and were wandering the beach cliff. Two
members started down the newly carved path that the Corday house occupants
hadn’t yet been allowed on. It appeared to be an easy descent. One of them was
aiming a video camera as he descended.

“Hendricks seems to have no problem with their
company,” Jonathan remarked.

Good. Maybe we’ll see him on TV tonight
instead of me.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he added.

His question was rhetorical, but she answered it
anyway. “Because you met him once and that’s all it took. He’s an easy read.”

He turned her way and grinned. Then his eyes moved
beyond her and his smile died.

Catching his change in expression, she turned to
look at the road heading in from the highway. A big blue sanitary cubicle sat
atop the back of a wide-bed truck. The vehicle traveled slowly along the
unpaved road, its cargo gently rocking within its restraining bonds.

“There goes the neighborhood,” Jonathan said under
his breath.

Sunny looked pained. “Do they have to?”

Though her question was also rhetorical, he answered
it. His head bobbed once in a resigned nod. “Yes, they have to. I don’t like it
either, but there are some needs one can’t ignore.”