Page 19 of Secrets Along the Shore (Beach Read Thrillers #1)
Livia’s hair was up in a curly mass on the top of her head, which only served to make her blue-dyed curls bluer.
She sat down opposite me at her table. Sometimes I found myself just staring at her.
Her features, her eyes, her skin. If I were honest, I felt plain beside her.
Livia would hate it if I ever admitted that, but she was beautiful.
Inside and out. Unscarred by the world. Her parents had raised her in a strong home.
She had a good family. She didn’t hold my upbringing against me, and she didn’t hold me in the box of a victim.
Livia had helped me break free of that. To learn to live—even if I avoided the past.
Now, she was rescuing me again. Her and her big heart.
Livia pulled a foot up and perched it on her chair so one knee stuck up in the air while her other foot rested on the floor.
She stabbed a piece of broccoli, eyed it, and then popped it in her mouth.
She must have noticed that I was questioning her surveillance of the piece of broccoli, and she added, “When I was kid, my Gramma June used to garden and she’d bring in the broccoli and boil it.
All these green worms would float to the top like little sailors.
Every now and then, one would make it through to my plate.
So I learned to check my broccoli before I eat it. ”
“That’s so unappetizing.” I shoved my broccoli to the opposite end of my plate.
Livia laughed. “I’ve never found a worm on broccoli from the grocery store, Noa.”
“Don’t they have worm powder or something to spray on the plants to kill the worms?” I was way off topic, but for the moment, it felt like a relief.
“Sure they do.” Livia jabbed at more green on her plate.
“Gramma June refused to use anything chemical, and the only thing she would do is plant marigolds by the broccoli. She said their beauty ‘scares away those worms.’ ” Livia mimicked her grandmother’s lilt.
She popped a piece of broccoli in her mouth.
“But they didn’t. At least, not all of them. ”
“I have no intention of eating this broccoli now, you realize that?”
She just grinned. “So, what’s our next move?”
“Our?” I tossed back.
“Well.” Livia wagged her fork at me. “You’re in my house, so, yeah, ours .”
“You live in a mobile home.” I scanned the length of the rented unit not in disdain but just to make a point.
“Home. House. Stop dancing around the broccoli and the truth, Noa, and let’s keep going. What’s next?”
Livia knew me too well.
As soon as I ever had any breakthrough in life, even the most minute one, I froze. Or I shut down. The fact was, I didn’t know how to handle good things. I was—as my therapist years ago had put it— “geared for trauma.”
“I didn’t expect Dickson to buy into my theory,” I admitted. Then I eyed the broccoli on my plate. The temptation was too great. I had to pick up a piece and dissect it.
“I know you didn’t.” Livia propped her forearm on her knee. “So that means two things to me. The police are desperate, and you had merit in your idea.”
“Thanks?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously. It’s only logical, isn’t it? If the police had something strong to go on, they wouldn’t waste time on a theory unless it aligned with their evidence. And, police wouldn’t waste time on a bad theory, period. So you might be on to something. Own it, girl.”
I smiled a wobbly smile as I dismembered the broccoli stalk in order to avoid eye contact.
“So? What’s our next move?”
Back to that. I shrugged, dropping the broccoli stalk, naked of all its blossoms and void of any roly-polies, to my plate.
“I don’t know. I gave them my theory, but I wouldn’t have the first clue who to look at as a suspect.
I don’t have their databases and search engines and all that techy stuff they can do now. ”
“I think a lot of that is just on TV.” Livia sipped her water. “What about Sophia’s boyfriend? There was a lot of talk he was up for number one suspect.”
I hadn’t told Livia about the conversation I’d overheard at work. “I don’t think it was Dereck, and Reuben indicated they didn’t have a strong connection between the women. So that’d equal no other strong suspects, wouldn’t it?”
Livia considered for a moment. “Sure, but look at Dereck through your new lens. Does he match?”
“I don’t know Dereck,” I admitted.
Livia grinned. “So that’s where we start.”
For all the things I didn’t like about social media, it did serve its purpose. Of course, Livia had every platform there was, so we sat with her tablet and scoured.
Soon enough, Livia had found Sophia’s account with reel after reel of some really mind-numbing videos.
I was surer than ever I was an old person in a twenty-seven-year-old body, because I did not see the appeal of reels.
Life had maybe molded me into having the brain and tolerance of a forty-eight-year-old woman hitting perimenopause, and the cynicism to go along with it.
Livia burst out in a laugh as a reel with a series of dogs running into patio doors played. Ok. I admitted that was cute, but?—
“How does this tell us who Dereck is?” I voiced.
“Oh!” Livia shot me a sheepish look. “I got distracted.” She clicked on Sophia’s picture and it took us to her profile page. Tapping on “Followers,” a list of usernames popped up and Livia scrolled until she found one with a matching photo of Dereck.
“Here’s his profile.” She pulled it up and there were all of four videos under his name. “So, that’s one thing. He’s not into reels.”
“Does that mean anything?” I asked.
“Only that he’s probably old-school.” She flicked out of that app and opened an app with a newsfeed so clogged with people’s thoughts and ideas I felt claustrophobic.
I pointed at a post. “ That’s supposed to convince me to vote differently next time?”
Livia chuckled. “Girl, spend more time on here and you’ll be so annoyed you’ll never be happy again.”
“I spend enough time on social media as it is.” My voice went up an octave.
Livia twisted in her seat and eyed me. “How much time do you spend on social media?”
I just stared at her. “I don’t know. Like—a half-hour a day at most?
” I’d found it to be not just a major time suck, but also a Pandora’s box of other people’s daily trauma.
I didn’t need more in my life. So, while I browsed it and even got suckered into wasting significant minutes on it at times, I tried to steer clear as much as possible.
Livia seemed to get that. “Ok. Fine. I suppose that makes sense given?—”
Right. Given my past.
“Here’s Dereck’s page.” She scrolled on it for a bit. “Ok, he has a grandmother!” Livia tapped the computer screen with a fingernail .
“A nice one?” I asked.
“How do I know?” Livia scrolled more. “And a mother!” She shouted it like she’d hit the jackpot.
I elbowed her. “You realize everyone has a grandmother and mother, don’t you? We’re looking for signs of severe family dysfunction.”
“Oh.” Livia dialed back her enthusiasm. “Ohhhh.” Her voice moaned in sadness when a photo of Dereck and Sophia, heads tipped together and both smiling, popped onto the screen. “That does not look like a man who wants to off his woman.”
“No.” It didn’t. But I knew well enough from my own childhood that what people saw on the surface wasn’t always what lurked beneath. “Does he have any sisters?” I asked.
Sophia scrolled some more, scowling in concentration. “Noooo.” She drew out the word. “It doesn’t look like it anyway. A brother. And I’ll be honest, his life looks pretty stable. Online anyway.”
This wasn’t going to work. I sagged into the couch. How could I be a voice for the missing women and Sophia if I was sitting on Livia’s couch, surfing social media’s carefully propagated facades?
On impulse, I shot up and snatched my keys from the coffee table.
“Where’re you going?” Livia surprise at my sudden movement was evident.
“I need to see Reuben.”
“Reuben? You think he’s going to let you help with the case?” Disbelief echoed through Livia’s tone.
“He’ll let me.” I let the door close behind me. I sounded more confident than I felt. I also had a twinge of conscience leaving Livia behind. But I didn’t want her more wrapped up in this than she already was with me staying with her.
The truth of the matter was, Livia was as close to family as it got for me. I wasn’t willing to jeopardize that.