Mariah Stewart - Cold Truth

She shook her head when she looked back on the past nine days, days that had held so much pain, so much horror for the families of those young women, in so short a time.

She took ten more minutes to properly stretch, then opened the back door and called in to Lucy.

“Luce! I’m going for a run. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“I don’t have running shoes,” Lucy called back.

“I told you I have an extra pair if you want to borrow them. They should fit you.”

“I’ll take a rain check.” Lucy appeared at the screen door. “I’m still greasy from the beach.”

She held out an arm slick with suntan oil.

“You missed an excellent beach day, sleeping beauty.”

“I needed the sleep more than I needed the sun.”

“While you’re gone, I’m going to shower all this stuff off and then I’ll start dinner. I think you need a really wholesome dinner tonight.”

“I thought last night’s dinner of crabs and French fries was just perfect.”

“Too much fat.” Lucy wrinkled her nose. “But what are crabs without a little butter and a big bowl of fries with Old Bay? Now, tonight, we’ll eat healthy.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Cass eyed her suspiciously.

“Something yummy. I’ll run to the fish market as soon as I get cleaned up. We’ll have something broiled, maybe sea bass or tuna or whatever they have that looks good and is today-fresh. And a big salad.”

“I think there are some fries left from last night.”

“I tossed them. We had our bad fats for the week. Tonight it’s healthy seafood and a salad.”

“Sounds good. Fat or no fat.” Cass leaned down to retie a shoe. “I’ll be back in forty-five minutes or so.”

“Do you have your key?”

“In my pocket. Why?”

“I want to lock the house while I shower and then when I go to the store.”

“Good idea.” Cass heard the click of the lock as she set off in the direction of the driveway.

Once on the sidewalk, she adjusted her sunglasses and began to jog slowly to the end of the street, five houses down. The house immediately to their right and the two houses nearest the corner were still vacant, the summer renters not having arrived yet. It was okay, Cass thought, she didn’t mind not having neighbors. It was enough she had someone sharing her house.

Though she had to admit she didn’t mind Lucy’s presence. If anything, she was beginning to enjoy it. She’d forgotten what it was like to share living space with someone else, she’d been on her own so long.

On the one hand, it was nice. On the other, it reminded her of those awful days, the ones after she had lost her family and had gone to live with Lucy and Aunt Kimmie and Uncle Pete. She and Lucy had shared a room for a few months, while Aunt Kimmie had the second floor finished off with two new bedrooms and one bath, so the girls could have their own rooms. It had been the worst time of Cass’s life. And yet, in Lucy she’d found a true friend, in spite of their differences.

Cass jogged up the narrow wooden boardwalk onto the beach, reflecting on some of those differences. Lucy was now, always had been, supremely girly. Even as a child, Lucy’s bathing suits had been pink, or pale blue, or white. She always wore ribbons in her hair, like her mother and her aunt, Cass’s mother, did. She jumped rope occasionally, but spent most of her time at home reading or with her dolls, so it was no real surprise when she married young and began a family right away.

The only time Cass had ever seen her cousin sweat was when she played basketball. Everyone assumed Lucy wanted to play only because Cass did, but then she’d played with surprising aggression.

They’d been very close in high school, Cass reflected as she ran along the water’s edge. They’d remained close until Lucy married that rat-bastard David. What had she seen in him, anyway? He wasn’t a good conversationalist, he wasn’t funny or particularly smart or even all that good-looking. What had Lucy seen in him?

Not that it mattered now, Cass thought as she ran a zigzag pattern around the towels of several sunbathers who lay on their blankets, wrapped in towels, the late-afternoon sun not nearly strong enough to ward off the chill.

“Hey! Cass!” someone called from behind.

She turned, to find Rick Cisco approaching.

“I thought that was you,” he said as he jogged up to join her.

“You’re a runner,” she said, judging his practiced gait.

“When I have time. Today seemed like a good day to take a break and get in a few miles.”

“It’s a good day for it. Not too hot, the humidity hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“How far are you going?” he asked.

“As far as the next jetty. About another half mile.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Suit yourself.”

She broke into a run and he matched her pace.

They ran in silence, their running shoes pounding softly against the sand, their breath coming in equal measure. When they reached the stone jetty, she stopped and looked out to sea.

“I usually walk out to the end,” she told him.

“I’m game, as long as you don’t mind the company.”

She did, but she shrugged it off. You can’t always be alone, she reminded herself. Sometimes you have to share your space with other people. This week seems to be one of those times. Buck up and get used to it.

She looped her thumbs in the pockets of her running shorts and walked the length of the jetty, picking her way across the rocks. At the end, she searched for the flattest rock she could find, and sat on it. She glanced up at Rick, who had followed her, and patted the rock next to her.

“It’s not exactly cushy, but it’s about as flat as you’ll find.”

He looked down at the proffered seat uncertainly, then lowered himself carefully to the rock. His long legs hung over the side and his feet rested on the rocks below.

“This is nice,” he said. “Great view.”

She pointed off to the left. “The charter boats are starting to come in.”

“What do they fish for?”

“Tuna. Blues. Whatever is running. They have to go pretty far out for both, this time of year.”

“You do a lot of fishing?”

“None, actually. Not at all.”

“Oh. You sounded so knowledgeable.”

“My dad had a charter. He used to go out every day. He loved it. He was such a smart man, he could have done anything he wanted. All he ever wanted was to fish.” She smiled, remembering Bob Burke’s love of the sea.

“Does he still fish?”

“He died.”

“You lost both parents?” He turned to her. “I’m sorry.”

“On the same day,” she said softly.

“What?”

“They died on the same day.”

“I’m sorry, Cass. Was it an accident?”

“They were murdered. My parents and my little sister.”

“Jesus, that’s rough. I’m so sorry… I had no idea…” He flushed as if embarrassed to have heard it. “Did they find the person?”

“Yes. A transient, guy who’d been hanging around town for a few months. My dad used to give him fish when he had a really good catch. That always killed me, you know? That my dad was so nice to this guy and he repaid his kindness by…” She shook her head slightly and turned her face from him. “Anyway, he was tried and convicted and sent to prison. He died about… I think it was maybe ten years ago or so. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s okay. You had no way of knowing. Thanks.” She stared out toward the horizon, not able to make eye contact with him. All of a sudden, he felt too close, though there was a space of almost three feet between them. She felt suffocated.