Page 17 of Fire Harbor

The dog flopped into his bed in the corner while Linus plugged in his phone. Before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth, though, he reached for the TV remote on the nightstand and punched in the station for the local news out of Santa Cruz. He made fast work of brushing his teeth before turning down the covers and crawling into bed.

When the second story of the day came on, the reporter mentioned bones had been found south of Pelican Pointe and were thought to be connected to a missing persons case from six months earlier.

Linus turned up the volume and listened to the reporter reveal how a paramedic had discovered the bones while responding to a routine accident at the bridge. There was no mistake that the news guy was standing in the same spot where Linus had found the bones hours earlier. He stared at the screen watching in the background as a team of forensic technicians scoured the surrounding area underneath the bridge for more remains.

He sat up straighter when he noticed his phone lighting up. There was a text message from Lake telling him to watch the news. Another message arrived with a link to an article about a missing seventeen-year-old girl named Gabriella Moreland, or as she was known to her family and friends, Gabby.

Linus skimmed the newspaper article about Gabby’s disappearance from Pelican Pointe last September on her way to a concert in Santa Cruz. The teen had never shown up to meet her friends that evening as planned, and she hadn’t been seen since.

A chill ran down his spine. He couldn’t help but remember the eerie feeling he had experienced earlier that day when he stumbled upon those bones. The chilling sight of the skull hiding beneath the bridge felt surreal. As he lay there, his mind raced with questions.

Before he could text Lake any of his thoughts, she sent him another message. You need to contact Brent Cody. According to the article, he’s handling Gabby’s case.

But I don’t know anything. Although…

Although what?

Jimmy Diaz’s cousin had a weird encounter on that bridge seven years ago. She said a cop stopped her and put some kind of cloth over her mouth during the traffic stop and took out a syringe. She was in trouble until this guy stepped in out of nowhere to help her. He tossed the cop to the side of the road and Sofia took off.

What? That’s insane. OMG. Could that have been Scott Phillips who helped her?

Can ghosts actually toss a grown man to the side of the road?

I don’t know. Maybe we should ask him. Scott, that is.

How do we do that?

Maybe he’ll come to us. This is all too much. You should probably get some sleep.

After knowing I might’ve found Gabby’s skull, that’s gonna be hard to do.

I’m sorry. Text if you can’t sleep.

Will you be up?

I’ll probably be reading. ~smiley face~ Goodnight, Linus

Goodnight, Lake

Just as he thought would happen, sleep eluded him for the next hour. He tossed and turned until almost midnight.

Finally, unable to bear the restlessness any longer, Linus swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his phone. He dialed the direct line for the police station, hoping that somehow someone could shed some light on the chilling discovery he had made.

The phone rang twice before a tired voice answered, “Pelican Pointe PD, Eastlyn Parker speaking. How can I help you?”

Relieved that it was Eastlyn on duty, he stammered a bit when he began, “Eastlyn, hi, this is Linus Canfield. I’m the one who found those remains under the bridge this afternoon.”

“Ah,” she replied knowingly. “When he was watching the news, Cooper said it was probably you. What’s wrong? Is there something else you need to report about the find?”

“Yes and no. I was wondering if forensics found anything else out there today?”

“Not that I know of. Chief Cody might have more information, but it hasn’t trickled down to me yet. I’m guessing you caught the news at ten. The Chief thinks the skull belongs to Gabby Moreland.”

“I heard. You are aware of strange things happening on that bridge, right? There’s a history that goes back to that state trooper who was stopping young women.”

“The state trooper in question is dead, Linus,” Eastlyn stated as if annoyed. “Rick Hackford died in the line of duty ten years ago. And Gabby Moreland has been missing for six months. Need I remind you that at the county sheriff’s office, Hackford’s name is synonymous with hero, not a sleazebag attacking women? So don’t go there.”

“Fine. But will you leave a note for Brent Cody to call me in the morning?”

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