Page 3

FAITH

W indows open, salty sea air blowing through my hair, I sang at the top of my voice to the beat of LALA by Myke Towers blasting from the radio as I drove into work.

I’d gotten in late the night before, and it took all my willpower to leave the glass of wine untouched in my fridge while I scarfed down my lukewarm dinner at four in the morning.

Waiting for the coroner and collecting the evidence from the scene had taken hours.

Bureaucratic paperwork ensured that even for a simple drowning, nothing happened quickly.

I was home just long enough to shower and get in a power nap before heading back to work.

I pulled the car into Sunshine bakery, idling while I made a mad dash up to the window for a cafe con leche and a box of pastelitos.

The smell of guava pastries wafted through the window.

Feliz Navidad blared through the radio when I climbed back into the Charger and my phone rang.

I nearly spilled my coffee all over my lap reaching for the knob to lower the volume .

“Hey Mom, Merry Christmas! How’re you doing out there?” She’d been in Phoenix with her new husband for six months, so it was our first Christmas apart.

“I’d be better if you were here,” she said with a tinge of sadness.

“I know. But that’s part of the job, especially when you’re the lowest woman on the totem pole.”

“They have detectives in Arizona too, you know?” she answered coyly.

I let out a chuckle. “We both needed to get out of Miami. I’m glad you’re happy out there. I’m happy here, too.”

My mother moving was the impetus I needed to follow my dreams. Small town island life wasn’t all I’d dreamed it would be–yet. I still had hope I’d someday fit in. But Smugglers Cove was beyond tight-knit.

“Don’t you get bored down there? It’s so sleepy.”

She worried herself sick when I was a beat cop in Miami, after losing my dad in the line of duty when I was three.

You’d think that she’d be happy I’d opted for small town life in the Keys.

I chuckled to myself. “I like sleepy, mom. But I’m actually working a case today.

I’m on my way into the station now, in fact. ”

“On Christmas. Oh, Faith. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, mom. I love my job.” I smiled as I turned into the station. “Go enjoy your Christmas with Rick. I gotta run.”

The pile of work was waiting for me when I made it to my desk.

I pushed a teetering stack of papers to the side, making enough room to set down my coffee.

I’d just settled into my chair when my Louis approached.

He was the only officer that treated me with the same respect that the Sheriff did.

His goofy smile was endearing. “Merry Christmas, Detective.”

“Merry Christmas to you, Louis. I guess you drew the short straw, too. Skeleton crew working Christmas.”

“Holiday pay, and it’s just another day when you don’t have family around,” he said with a shrug.

“Yes it is.” I knew his parents sold their bungalow in paradise and bought a four bedroom house on a golf course in a Central Florida retirement community a couple of years back. “Good thing we like our jobs.”

“Honestly, I like my job more than I like family holidays,” Louis admitted with a chuckle.

“I might have to agree,” I fibbed. “Hey Louis, what are the chances I’ll get the coroner’s report on Christmas Day?”

“Somewhere between zero and zero,” Louis said with a dubious frown.

“Thought so.” I reached for the Ziploc bag full of rice beside the stack of paperwork and carefully removed the victim’s phone. “I hope this worked.”

“Did you rinse it with freshwater and dry the ports out with a hairdryer before you put it in the rice?” he asked.

“Yes I did,” I grinned.

“Then the chances are less terrible.”

I held my breath and pushed the power button on the side of the phone. My heart skipped a beat when the screen lit up. “Yes!”

“Good, now you’ve got something to investigate while you wait for the coroner’s report.” He patted my desk. “Have fun. ”

“Thanks,” I called after him as he walked away.

My excitement was short lived though as I stared at the keypad underneath the blank spaces for the six digit passcode.

I rifled through the papers and pulled out the copy of Kylie’s driver’s license I’d printed last night.

Please let it be her birthday. I typed in 112195.

No luck. If anyone might know her passcode, it was probably her mother.

I needed to speak to her anyway to see if she had any insight to Kylie’s Christmas Eve plans.

Kylie’s mother, Doreen Anderson, was listed as her emergency contact with the DMV.

I shuffled papers to find that printout and grabbed the handset at my desk, taking a deep breath as I dialed.

At least the Sheriff had already done the worst part and notified her last night. But I still dreaded the call.

Guilt filled me that I’d just spoken to my own mother a few minutes earlier. Kylie’s mom would never get to do that with her daughter again.

“Mrs. Anderson, this is Detective Pierce with the Monroe County Sheriff's Department. I am calling regarding your daughter, Kylie. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Detective. I appreciate your condolences.” Her voice was surprisingly composed. Sometimes shock does that to people.

“Of course,” I said in a soft tone. “Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to get some information about Kylie.”

“Yes, I have time. We’re just packing things up to start the drive back.”

“Sheriff Bennett mentioned that you were in Texas? ”

“Yeah, my husband's parents live here. I was going to fly back first thing this morning but Waylan talked me out of it. Said I should stay and have my Christmas with Ed. Not that there’s anything to celebrate now. Do you think I should fly back today?”

Her question caught me off guard. “Oh, well, honestly, there’s no reason for you to return immediately. What’s most important is that you have the support you need.”

“That’s what Waylan said. What I need is my baby girl back.” She choked up, finally showing emotion.

“I’m so very sorry,” I said softly. “When was the last time you spoke to Kylie?”

“She called me yesterday morning.”

I winced. It must hurt horribly knowing you’d unknowingly spoken the last words to your child, on a holiday, no less. “Did she say what her plans were yesterday?”

“She was supposed to go into work at four. She manages the Lorelei, and holidays are high season. That’s why she couldn’t go to Minnesota with Jake.”

“Jake?” I asked as I wrote 4pm on my yellow legal pad and drew a circle around it. Kylie must’ve ended up in the water before that time if she should have been at work by then.

“Her fiancé. They’d just gotten engaged.” Her voice trailed off. “Poor thing. I spoke to him just before you called. He’s a mess.”

I scribbled on the legal pad: JAKE=FIANCE. “I can only imagine. He’s in Minnesota?”

“Yeah, home for the holidays. He didn’t want to leave Kylie but she insisted he go without her.

His grandmother has been ill and they thought it might be her last Christmas–same reason we came to Texas to be with Jack’s parents.

We were so worried about other family members leaving us that we left Kylie all alone,” she said, her voice escalating with despair. “And now she’s gone.”

“You couldn’t have known,” I tried to console. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I wish I knew how to stop it,” she said, full of regret. “I just keep thinking if I’d been home she would be alive.”

“That’s the hardest part about losing a loved one,” I said, shifting in my creaky old office chair. “It’s good that you’re with family there in Texas.”

“Thank you,” she sniffled.

“Mrs. Bennett, I wondered if you could help me with something… Kylie’s phone was in her pocket when they found her. Do you happen to know the passcode?”

“Unless she changed it, should be 050717– the day she graduated from the University of Miami.. She said she’d never forget that day after she worked so hard to get there.”

The pride in her voice tugged at my heart strings. My mother had always been my biggest cheerleader. I punched in the numbers and the phone unlocked. “That’s the code. Thank you.” I scrawled the numbers on the yellow paper.

“Another thing I wondered…” I paused, feeling a little guilty for questioning the grieving mother. “Who did Kylie hang out with?” Surely someone who’d lived in Smuggler’s Cove all their life had lots of friends.

“Her best friend, Amber, moved to Atlanta a couple years back. And since then, it seemed like all my girl did was work. She wanted to pay off her student loans so I didn’t have to, and then she met Jake.

” She chuckled but it sounded forced. “Those two were fast and furious, engaged after six months. The wedding was set for spring.” Her voice trembled. “They were so happy.”

My heart ached for her. “Thank you. I’ll check her phone now that I can access it. If you think of any friends who might have some information about her movements yesterday, please let me know.”

“Why are you asking about her friends? Do you think her drowning wasn’t an accident?””

“We’re just exploring every possibility and trying to determine exactly what happened to her.” My pen scratched on the pad: TALK TO EMPLOYEES AT LORELEI.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“One last thing,” I said. “Have you notified Kylie’s father? Or would you like me to?”

“Kylie doesn’t have a father,” she said sternly. “Thanks for offering though.”

After we hung up, I scrolled through recent calls on Kylie’s phone.

Several missed calls from Lorelei on the day of her death.

Nearly every one of the other calls was to or from Jake or Mom.

Her mother wasn’t kidding, Kylie really didn’t talk to anyone else.

I opened her texts. Jake and her mom were at the top of the list. The last message to Jake was a photo of a floral arrangement in a magazine, sent at 3:19pm, with the message: What do you think about these for the tables?

I got a chill, thinking of her making wedding plans just minutes before her future was erased. Jake’s reply made me smile. Whatever you think, beautiful. As long as you end up my wife at the end of the day I’ll be the happiest man alive.

The third contact on the list of texts was from someone named Coulter Rodman. He’d texted her at 2:49pm. I want to talk to you in person, Kylie. When can we meet?

She hadn’t replied to that message, or the one before, which was basically the same.

Can we talk about this face to face?

The previous message was sent December 22, two days before Kylie died, in response to her message to him earlier that day. I wanted to let you know, before we make it public… Jake and I are engaged.

A shiver went up my spine. Who was this Coulter? Two possibilities immediately came to mind: an ex or a side piece. Who else would she need to tell she was engaged before they heard it elsewhere?

“Hey Louis!” I hollered.. “You ever heard of a Coulter…” I fumbled with the phone to open the contact info page to find his last name again, but Louis beat me to it. “Coulter Rodman?”

“That’s the one,” I yelled. “Can you get me an address for him please?” I scanned the last text from Coulter again. I want to talk to you in person, Kylie. When can we meet?

Definitely had jilted-ex, stalker vibes. “I need to pay him a visit.”