Page 15 of Below Grade

If he wanted to know, he’d ask Xavier. What a detective he was.

He’d only just talked himself into returning to the shed, and its dubious contents, when the crunch of gravel in the parking lot reached his ears.

“What is it, National Visit the New Guy Day?” he grumbled half-heartedly. “I’m never going to get anything done around here.”

Peering back out through the doorway, he saw a dark blue Cooper Springs police cruiser had pulled in and parked by the check-in slash front office. The “office” was a tiny structure, hardly bigger than the shed—an eight-by-ten-foot box with a single parking spot in front and a slot in the door for visitors to return cabin keys.

Martin had met Andre Dear back when he’d first looked at the resort, but maybe it was a tradition for the police chief to greet newcomers when they officially arrived in town. Or maybe Dear had news about Lizzy’s murder? His gut clenched.

“Good afternoon, Chief Dear,” Martin said as he walked down the slope toward where the chief was exiting his cruiser. “How can I help you?” As he drew closer, Martin saw that the other man’s expression was grim rather than welcoming. Maybe itwassomething about Lizzy Harlow.

Andre Dear was around Martin’s age—midforties, give or take. The chief was also Martin’s height but lean, like he’d been a runner all his life, not a weightlifter. His hair was mostly silver, also like Martin’s. But where Martin’s eyes were a pale green, the chief’s eyes were icy gray.And why was he comparing himself to the Chief Dear anyway?

“Mr. Purdy, I’m sorry to interrupt your afternoon.”

Martin cringed inwardly. He was going to have a t-shirt made that said,Call Me Martin.

“Please, it’s Martin. Otherwise, I’ll be looking around for my father and he’s been dead for years.”

Dear’s grim expression didn’t change. Whatever had made the chief decide he needed to stop by was police business, not a personal welcome to Cooper Springs.

“Martin, then. Can you spare a minute?”

As tempting as it was, Martin didn’t point out that he was retired and literally had all the time in the world. With the exception of needing to get organized so he could start on the remodel. And possibly find a hobby that didn’t involve obsessing about a local woman’s murder.

“Of course. I’m just trying to decide how much crap I can fit in the storage shed. How can I help you?”

The chief sucked in a deep breath and blew it out again before speaking. “We’re asking folks to keep an eye out for a missing teen. Blair Cruz is her name. She’s sixteen, five foot three, one hundred and fifteen pounds, with dark, shoulder-length hair. Last seen wearing a blue rain parka and jeans. Her older brother, Levi Cruz, thinks she also had on a knit cap. Blair left for school Friday morning carrying a bag with school supplies and extra clothing for a sleepover.”

“Damn.” He shook his head. “I didn’t get here with the moving van until Saturday, unfortunately, and I haven’t seen anyone matching that description.” Martin pointed his thumb behind him, toward the row of cabins. “You might ask Waugh? He seems to keep an eye out.”

They both eyed Cabin Five warily. There seemed to be no sign of Waugh, but Martin figured he was around somewhere. Nick and his bat.

“How come you’re just looking for her now?” Martin asked. By his calculation, it had been four days since her brother had seen her.

Dear sighed and glanced back at Martin. “A bad case of everyone thought she was somewhere else. Until yesterday evening, when the high school attendance office called Cruz to ask where she was and why she’d missed class. Apparently, Blair spent the weekend at a friend’s house, and her brother didn’t expect to see her until after school on Monday. But she wasn’t at school yesterday, and her friend says Blair hadn’t felt well and decided to go home Sunday afternoon instead of staying over till Monday. Her brother didn’t know anything until the school called him.”

Answering a phone call, only to have it be someone with the worst news imaginable, made Martin’s heart hurt for Blair’s brother.

“God, that’s awful. Her brother must be a wreck.”

He’d been an only child himself, but he could imagine the pain of having a family member go missing, or worse. Levi Cruz must be out of his mind with worry.

“Cruz is beside himself, of course.” Dear said, echoing his thoughts. His gaze flicked to the left, past Martin’s shoulder. “Especially with Lizzy Harlow’s death last month.”

Turning, Martin gazed in the same direction. The footbridge was in plain view from where they were standing, as were the few remaining cellophane-wrapped bouquets that rustled in the ever-present wind. And the hint of her ghost.

“Anything new on that?” He figured there wasn’t, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

Dear shook his head. “Nope, nothing. Her husband is back now. I don’t envy Corey Harlow, suddenly being a single parent as well as mourning his wife.”

Together they stared out at the wilted, damaged flowers and now water-soaked teddy bear that kept vigil for Lizzy Harlow.Maybe he’d take some fresh flowers over when he had the chance, or plastic ones that could withstand the wind and rain.

“Yeah.” Martin shrugged, wishing he could offer more. “But you know how it is. New guy, so not in any loops. But I’ll let the station know if I see or hear anything.”

Pulling his wallet out from a pocket in his bomber jacket, the chief opened it and plucked out a business card, holding it out to Martin. “This has my cell phone as well as the station’s main line, so please, do call.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “I’m a new guy too, not quite as shiny as you are, but I’ve only been chief since last February.” He sighed, looking around to take in the property, the bluff, and the sliver of ocean beyond. “And here I thought semi-retiring to a small town would be good for my health.”

The radio affixed to Dear’s uniform crackled to life and he pressed the mic.

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