Page 29 of Deep Tide

He just looked at her.

Amelia’s apartment building came into view, a two-story walk-up with weathered wooden siding. The parking lot was empty, except for a few beat-up cars. Most of the residents were at work. Nicole swung into the lot and drove to the end, where Amelia had rented a one-bedroom unit. Nicole and Emmet and a pair of CSIs on loan from the county had spent three hours here yesterday combing through the entire unit. They’d collected a day planner and an iPad, and lifted some fingerprints here and there, but nothing jumped out that might shed light on what, at that time, had seemed like robbery-turned-homicide behind Amelia’s workplace.

But it was becoming clearer by the minute that there was more to this case than a simple robbery gone awry. And now the feds were swooping in.

Nicole cut the engine and turned in her seat. “Can I be straight with you, Special Agent?”

He smiled. “It’s Sean. And yes, please be straight.”

“All right, Sean, here’s the thing. Ever since this case hit, we’ve been working round the clock. Everyone. Not just the detectives, but everyone else who’s had to pick up the slack. And we’re short-staffed, as you well know, because our top detective and our CSI are on their honeymoon. The last thing I want to do is see everyone bust their asses on this, at the expense of everything else we’re dealing with, only to find out that our victim was a confidential informant, or some other such shit that you guys knew all along and didn’t tell us.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Really? Because you don’t seem to be very forthcoming with information, and I get this funny feeling that you have some that could be relevant. For example, you just dodged my question about whether Amelia Albright was a confidential informant.”

“She wasn’t.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m sure.” He pushed open his door. “Trust me.”

•••

Leyla jogged down the beach, keeping her gaze focused on the distant horizon. Her usual turnaround was the kayak stand in front of the Oasis Hotel. As she neared it, she poured on the speed until her quads burned. Pumping her arms and pushing herself to the limit, she passed the first rack of boats.

Leyla staggered to a halt and bent over, panting.

She was out of shape. Or at least, more out of shape than she liked to be. Between the wedding and getting her catering business off the ground, she’d been immersed in work, and she hadn’t exercised in more than a month.

She straightened and stretched her arms over her head. The evening sun cast long shadows, and the tide was out. She walked toward the water and plopped down on the ground beside someone’s abandoned sandcastle. This one had two tall turrets and was decorated with cockle shells. It was a drip castle like the ones she used to make with her brothers when they were little kids.

She and her older brothers had been close growing up, with Leyla always clamoring to tag along with whatever they were doing, whether it was fishing or skateboarding or taking out their dad’s boat. Now, Joel was married. Alex practiced law in Houston. And Owen was busy with his job and a serious relationship. Everyone was consumed with their adult lives, and all that carefree time they used to spend together as kids was long gone.

She rested her arms on her knees and looked out at the surf, where a couple was paddling a tandem kayak. Sean’s question about Amelia came back to her.

Did she have a boyfriend?

Leyla didn’t know. Amelia had worked at the coffee shop for nearly a year, but Leyla knew next to nothing about her personal life. She’d had no idea until yesterday that Amelia had had a twin brother, and that she’d loved surfing, and that she’d done some modeling after high school before moving to the island and enrolling in community college. Amelia had made a lot of friends while working at the Beanery, and for the past two days, flowers and cards and teddy bears had been piling up on the sidewalk in front of the shop. Not wanting anything to get damaged by the elements, Leyla had gathered the mementos into a box to take to Amelia’s parents. She couldn’t even imagine what they were going through, losing their daughter in such a horrific way. Leyla couldn’t stop thinking about what Amelia’s last moments—or possibly last minutes—must have been like, how utterly terrified she must have felt.

Leyla stared at the surf. Tears burned her eyes and she squeezed them shut. She had gotten through the entire day without crying, but something about watching the waves always stirred up her emotions. She wiped her cheeks and focused on a pair of sailboats just past the second sandbar.

“Leyla?”

She turned to see Sean jogging over and felt a flutter of panic. He wore shorts and running shoes and a Muse T-shirt that was soaked with sweat. He stopped beside her, breathing hard, and took out his earbuds.

“Thought that was you.” His brow furrowed as he looked her over. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” She turned toward the water. “Just, you know, watching the boats.”

He didn’t say anything, and she could hear his breathing returning to normal. He sank down on the sand beside her and stretched out his legs.

Had he followed her here? He’d been running for a while, from the looks of it.

“How far did you go?” she asked, brushing her cheeks.

“To the park and back. What is that? Three miles?”

“Probably. You’re staying at the Windjammer Hotel?”

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