Page 19 of Fire Harbor

“Since five. I’m an early riser,” she explained as she opened the Thermos and poured a light-colored liquid into each mug before handing one off to him. “I did some research last night about that bridge south of town and wanted to tell you about what I found. It’s had weird things happening there going back to the 1950s—eerie encounters, police reports about strange sightings, missing women.”

“I read about some of those incidents. But I didn’t see anything that far back or anything about the police getting involved. I did see a slew of women had gone missing, though.”

She nodded and took a seat at his kitchen table, digging into the bag she’d brought, then removing the two biscuits she’d wrapped in foil. “Missing women seems to go hand in hand with the phenomenon I uncovered. I bet you didn’t take your searches up a notch to the next level, like delving into all the paranormal activity out there. Sofia wasn’t the only female who reported a stranger showing up out of the blue and helping them escape the clutches of their attackers. And Gabby isn’t the first woman who disappeared from that area. There’s a definite pattern. Not only that, but I don’t think the rogue cop story has any merit. I’m not trying to diss your mom’s theory about Rick Hackford. He was a sleazebag for sure, but I don’t think Hackford has anything to do with attacking or kidnapping women, him being dead and all.”

Linus was still trying to take in all this information. Overwhelmed, he took a sip of her special java and groaned in approval. “Wow, oh, that’s good stuff, strong, yet silky smooth.”

“I know. I asked Murphy to stock this specific brand of beans from a Bay Area roaster that specializes in exotic imports. I tried this Vienna roast on a trip to Sausalito to visit my aunt. She’s the one who first ordered it at this little coffee shop she took me to, and I loved it right away. I couldn’t believe it tasted so smooth without the carbon-smoky flavor that leaves an aftertaste. It’s a sweeter version of Turkish, which I guess is why it doesn’t need sugar.”

He should’ve known she’d find an exquisite wake-up juice. “But I thought you were frugal. This coffee has to be pricey stuff.”

Lake shrugged. “It’s a couple of dollars more a bag. It’s fair to say I’m careful with my money. But just because I avoid paying five bucks for a shot of espresso at Paula’s coffee shop or brown bag my lunch every day doesn’t mean I don’t have my vices. I do splurge on three things—my dogs, my garden, and my coffee.” Having made her point, she unwrapped her biscuit and took a bite. “Not bad. I made these from scratch. Try one.”

He bit into the fluffy biscuit with an even fluffier egg and couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks. This is good.”

Lake’s lips curved at the compliment. She took another sip of her coffee. “I’m glad you like it. The way I see it, a good breakfast will help us tackle what happened to Gabby together.” She leaned in closer, her expression growing more serious. “We need to dig deeper into the other disappearances, Linus. There’s something bigger going on here, something beyond what we initially thought.”

“Exactly,” Linus said, his mind fully awake now as he pondered their next step. “I’ll need my laptop for this. Be right back.”

Lake watched as he headed out of the room and down the hallway. She stared over at the books she’d given him still on the counter. When he returned a few minutes later, he’d put on running shoes and held his already open laptop cradled in his arms.

He sat across from her, quickly typing in keywords into the search engine, looking for any additional background about the bridge and the strange occurrences surrounding it.

But Lake seemed to already have the information stored in her head. “That bridge is historic because it was one of only three concrete archways finished in 1938. It’s the only coastal bridge in the county. Two hundred feet long and only two lanes across, the harbor below consists of marshland and dunes. The sandy beach along that stretch receives some strong waves. Erosion happens frequently. But in all its years, the bridge has never flooded once, not even during the powerful El Nino of 2015 and 2016 when others in the state did. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s built over water that rarely rises. The Chumash used to refer to that area as Fire Harbor. Do you know why?”

“No. But you’re definitely going to tell me, right?”

She grinned. “A thousand years ago, when the Chumash lived along the coast, a certain coral reef grew in the shallow waters of the harbor. Deep orange to red in color, it’s extinct now, but the Native Americans thought it resembled sticks on fire or fire sticks. If that’s not enough of a reason, it’s an area where orange and red poppies grow wild every year. Tourists stop and take pictures, especially in the spring, like now. But back in the day, the Chumash were the first ones who referred to that area as Fire Harbor, loosely translated, that is.”

“You’re like a walking encyclopedia.”

“More like a geeky nerd who spends a lot of time in the Chumash Museum. As I see it, that makes me the town’s coolest librarian. Getting back to the first missing person. That occurred in 2008 when a young model by the name of Joely Harrison went missing on a trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles. She never made it to her mother’s home in Baldwin Park. Her mother reported her missing four days later after not showing up at all. They found her car abandoned further south near a cutoff. The first harrowing account from a survivor that I could find dates back to 2009 and Sally Kent. Sally was a would-be actress from Scotts Valley who had spent the day in Santa Cruz shooting a commercial. She reported that a mysterious stranger stepped in to save her from a man who had pretended to be a cop. Her would-be abductor had flashing lights on the front of his SUV and held a shiny, official-looking aluminum ticket holder. But get this, he wasn’t wearing a police uniform and didn’t behave like a cop.”

“That sounds like what happened to Jimmy’s cousin,” Linus said, leaning back in his chair. “Why did I even need my laptop? You obviously remembered all that from your research. What? On top of all your smarts, do you have a photographic memory or something?”

She lifted her shoulder. “Or something. You never asked me a thing, you just ran out of the room to grab your computer and put on shoes. The point is, the 2009 encounter with the stranger who actually saved her from the phony cop could be attributed to Scott Phillips.”

“Yeah. The timeframe works. But Scott isn’t exactly the focus, is he? Why couldn’t he save Gabby Moreland? Tell me that.”

“I don’t know. Eight other women have disappeared recently. And by recently, I mean in the past ten years. That goes back to 2014. Before that, another six reported that a stranger saved them. As I see it, we’re looking at eight Scott couldn’t save and six that he did. That’s not a bad percentage when you think about it.”

Linus nodded, savoring the rich flavor of the Vienna roast. “I could use another cup of this.”

“I’ll let you have what’s left in the Thermos.”

“Now I feel greedy.”

“It’s okay. I’ll need to leave soon for work anyway. I didn’t really intend to stay this long. In and out—that was my plan. I was supposed to leave you both biscuits.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” Linus said, laying his hand on hers. “You have a way of swooping in with your infectious energy like you did last night with those text messages. Those got me charged up about Gabby. I discovered that I couldn’t let it go. Today’s my day off. I thought I’d spend some time delving into all these disappearances, starting with the first one Scott couldn’t save.”

“Joely Harrison. But there are other victims to research. There’s Joanna Hawkins in 2014,” Lake provided. “Then there’s Amanda Jenner in 2015, Gail Pinter in 2016, Cillia French in 2017, Maggie Dover in 2018, Susan Crawford in 2019, Britney Parks in 2020, and Keri Davis in 2021. With the exception of Joely, all the women were from Santa Cruz.”

“And then Gabby in 2023, who was from Pelican Pointe. One a year. Weird stats for a serial killer.”

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