Alki Point Read online

  Reed pulled on a faded pair of jeans and t-shirt and walked downstairs to the kitchen to boil water and grind some fresh coffee beans. While the water heated, he layered on a wool shirt and hooded sweatshirt that hung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Angela shuffled into the kitchen in a pair of green and blue plaid flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers and sat down. “What do you think happened?”

  Reed poured boiling water into the French press and looked over, “Not sure. Maybe somebody was drunk and accidentally drove out into the Sound and couldn’t get out of their seatbelt. That would be a hell of a way to go.”

  Angela answered, “I hope that’s not what happened. That would be so sad.”

  “You would rather it was a murder or a suicide?” he asked.

  “No. I would rather there was no car in the water with a body in it.” She tilted her head to the side and shrugged.

  “Of course. But there is.”

  He poured some coffee into her mug and walked over to the kitchen table.

  “That is probably why Terry called. It could be a mystery. And you know I am the best at solving mysteries.”

  Terry set her coffee down and shrugged with mock confidence.

  “Who knows. It might even be a grisly murder and I will be the only one that can solve it.”

  Angela shook her head, “You helped the police solve one case and now you think you are Sherlock Holmes. Mind your head doesn’t get too large to fit through the door.”

  Reed ignored her comments and kissed Angela on the cheek before he retrieved a puffy down jacket off an octopus shaped coat hook next to the front door.

  “I’ll give you a call when I know what is going on and when I’ll be home. Love you.”

  Angela waved, “Love you too baby.”

  Reed and Angela lived on a houseboat on Lake Union just north of downtown Seattle. The floating home was painted driftwood grey and they named it The Grey Kraken. The walk up the dock and across the street to his car was short and, from his parking spot, it was less than a mile drive to the interstate on-ramp. It would only take about fifteen minutes to make it to the Alki boat launch.

  Reed enjoyed the view across the bay at this time of morning on a Sunday when the traffic was virtually non-existent. Today, Elliott Bay was a maelstrom of green and grey, speckled with white caps. The bay was devoid of boats except for one rust colored freighter sitting low at anchor, two green and white car ferries passing each other further out in the Sound, and a blue and white Seattle Police boat speeding toward the West Seattle peninsula, blue lights flashing on top of the pilot house. Reed could also see several blue and red clusters of lights flashing on the shore directly across the bay. He pressed the accelerator and sped up, wondering what Terry had found.

  Reed was Terry’s older brother by two years, but you would swear Terry was the older one based on appearance or behavior. Growing up, Terry was outgoing and athletic and had lettered in more than one team sport. Reed had always been laid back and preferred to read a good book, solve puzzles, or go on a hike in the nearby forests.

  They grew up in the Seattle suburb of West Seattle within blocks of the Alki Point lighthouse. Their father had been a Seattle Police officer and their mother a stay-at-home mom. Both parents hoped their boys would follow in their father’s footsteps and join the department. Terry did, but Reed preferred to go his own way and he started a chain of boutiques called The Silkworm Factory, with his wife, Angela. Their shops were quite successful, with Angela running store operations and Reed managing the finances. Even though Reed could never see himself in an official role in the police, he enjoyed puzzle solving and liked trying to solve cases as a hobby.

  Witnesses

  Less than a quarter mile down the beach from the public boat launch ramp, the West Seattle passenger ferry dock afforded a good view of the flurry of police activity at the public ramp. Onlookers started crowding the dock shortly after local news reported police activity at the launch and unconfirmed reports of a body in a submerged car. Umbrellas blew inside out, and hats blew off, but the spectators braved the storm out of morbid curiosity.

  As the group watched a Harbor Police boat arrive at the launch, two patrol cars pulled into the ferry parking lot. One officer exited each car and they approached the onlookers together before they split up and approached the line of people from opposite ends.

  The officers asked each person how long they had been in the area and if they had observed any unusual activity. All of them answered along the same lines. They had just arrived after hearing or seeing the news and had come to the dock out of concern or curiosity.

  It did not take long for the patrolmen to complete their interviews and return to their cars. No one they talked with had been there earlier that morning or witnessed anything suspicious in the area.

  One of officers drove straight back to the ramp while the other drove slowly up and down the street in both directions, jotting down the license numbers of the parked cars.

  Shortly after the patrol cars left, two males standing at the rail nodded to each other and turned to walk to the parking lot. There, they paused to confirm that the police had left the area and climbed into a white SUV. The driver pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the opposite direction of the ramp.

  The passenger, tall and slim with black hair looked across the at the driver and asked, “So, do you think they will buy it?”

  The driver, a short stout man with an additional decade of life on him shook his head, “Hell no. This was just a diversion. But it should point them in the wrong direction and just maybe save your neck.”

  The passenger stared at the driver with a look of contempt, “My neck? You think I wanted this? It was your monumental fuck up that killed her. That was the last thing I wanted. I should turn you in myself.”

  The driver smirked, “Really? And just how do you think that would turn out? You’re not innocent here, and if you get any smart ideas about coming clean, you will go down with me. I will make certain of that.”

  The two sat silent for the rest of the drive.

  Depression

  Terry told the shivering father and son to wait inside his car for the medics to arrive while he cordoned off the area with yellow police tape. As he made his way around the scene, the entire area came to life with lights and sirens. Additional patrol cars pulled into the parking lot followed by several unmarked department cars. Just offshore, the flashing blue lights of a Seattle Police Harbor Patrol boat bounced up and down as the vessel pulled up to the ramp area and started circling. It would be carrying divers suited up in their dry suits.

  Within a few minutes a fire department emergency vehicle pulled into the parking lot and Terry directed them to his squad car. Right behind the aid car was Terry’s friend and fellow officer Jack Ross. Jack parked his cruiser next to Terry’s and joined Terry in stringing the police tape.

  The vehicle on the ramp was no longer completely submerged, but no one swam out to examine it. It would be foolish for anyone to enter the cold waters without a dry suit at this time of year. To do so would invite hypothermia within minutes. Police divers would make an initial examination of the car and then attach a winch cable to the rear to pull it clear of the breakers.

  By the time Reed arrived, he had to park his green Mini Cooper over a block away from the ramp due to the police cordon and the gathering crowd. He tucked the Mini between two large pick-up trucks and walked back to the police tape where he spotted Terry and Jack a short distance away.

  “Terry.” He shouted out over the wind.

  Terry looked over and waved, “Reed. You got my message.”

  Reed responded, “Yes. Thanks for the call. I’ll stay out of the way and go to the lookout over there.”

  He pointed to an observation area that bordered the launch and was outside of the fluttering tape. Terry gave a thumbs-up and answered, “I’ll come over as soon as I am free.”

  Reed walked across a cement path to the overlook. The
area sat a good fifteen feet above the water and afforded a clear view of the current activities. He could see two divers bobbing on the surface like shiny seals to either side of a partially submerged car.

  One called out to the shore, “There is one body.”

  The other waved his arm in a circle over his head to signal a waiting red and white flatbed tow truck to back down the ramp and then play out its steel cable. The truck backed down to within fifteen feet of the water and a diver walked up to the rear of the vehicle and grabbed the hook that was attached to the tow cable. The tow truck driver threw a switch on the cable winch and the diver walked back down to the car as the steel line played out. When he reached the car, the diver reached under the rear bumper and attached the cable. Then he signaled to the tow truck driver to start the winch.

  Reed listened to the high whine of the tow truck winch as it struggled to extract the sedan from the bitter grasp of the sea. The front wheels were locked, and the car resisted moving, as if in defiance to being forced from it resting place. The scene reminded him of an old movie clip of rain drenched whalers winching a black lifeless carcass up some water-splashed processing ramp.

  Slowly, the car cleared the waves as streams of water cascaded from the door jams and spilled out onto the slick green algae that covered the concrete. From his vantage point, Reed could now make out that the driver side window of the vehicle was down, and a figure was slumped forward, head resting on the steering wheel.

  The combined sound of the wind, waves and winch put him into a daze as he watched the surrealistic scene. A voice called out and jerked him back to reality, “Can you tell if it’s a man or women?”

  It was Terry walking towards him. Terry had been up in the parking lot helping with crowd control until Jack suggested he take a break. From where he had been working, all he could see was the swarm of reporters and local gawkers lining the police tape, their glistening umbrellas straining in the wind and providing little protection from the cold rain that pelted their faces and sent rivulets of water down their necks.

  Once Terry was close enough for Reed to speak at a normal volume, he answered Terry’s question. “It looks like a young man. He has a buzz cut.”

  About then, the sound of the winch stopped. The vehicle was far enough from the water to allow access to those other than the divers. Now, the investigative work would begin. This was a well-rehearsed choreography of examining the vehicle and body for any clues that may indicate if this were the scene of a suicide, homicide, or tragic accident. When the detectives were finished with their initial examination, they signaled to a waiting black SUV and two men from the coroner’s office walked down the ramp towards the car. One of them carried a black bag and laid it next to the driver’s side door.

  Then, the first man knelt and wrapped his arms around the body’s legs as the other leaned in and reached under each arm. The first man counted to three and they lifted the lifeless body out of the car and onto the open bag. As they did, the victim’s entire head and face were exposed to Terry and Reed.

  “What the hell?” Terry gasped

  Reed cringed. “It’s a girl.”

  Now they could clearly see the face of a young woman, head shaved on one side and long black hair with blue streaks streaming down the other.

  Terry looked at Reed, “She doesn’t even look old enough to be out of high school. Crap. Sorry I called you. I just thought…. I didn’t expect a teenage suicide.”

  “I know. You thought there might be a good crime scene and I might like to see it for myself. Maybe you even hoped that there would be a dead drug dealer inside, and it would open an interesting new case. You certainly weren’t expecting a dead kid.”

  This was not the first young suicide victim Terry had witnessed but they always hit hard. He had his own teenage daughter in the local high school, and they hit too close to home.

  He looked at Reed, “What can be so bad that it makes someone want to end their own life? That girl could have talked with someone and worked things out.”

  Reed looked back a Terry. He knew that Terry was tough when it came to seeing accidents and death but always struggled when he had been called to a suicide, “When you’re depressed, you are certain that no one understands what you are going through. You don’t see any light at the end of the tunnel and you just want to stop. Stop the noise. Stop the light. Stop everything. I know. I’ve been there.”

  Reed knew a little about depression. He had suffered with bouts of it his entire life and several years back started taking medication to control his mood swings. He was a vocal advocate for mental health awareness and treatment.

  “I bet this girl came down here last night in the depth of depression, opened the window to let the water in and drove down the ramp to find serenity. Something she probably hadn’t felt in years. I am not condoning this, but I understand it. She is at peace. It is her parents that have to deal with the pain and suffering now.”

  Reed glanced at his watch and saw that time was getting on. He knew that Terry’s shift ended at 12:30 and he patted his brother on the shoulder, “Isn’t your shift over soon? When you go home you need to get some sleep and then take Michelle and Kim out for dinner tonight. Celebrate life and your family. It will make you feel better.”

  Terry thought a moment and answered, “That’s not a bad idea brother. Besides, this is my Friday. I am off for the next two days.”

  He paused, “Hey, since I don’t work tomorrow, why don’t we meet for breakfast in the market? It’s been a while.”

  Reed wasn’t fond of mornings but was happy to rouse early to have breakfast with his brother. Besides, maybe the girl hadn’t committed suicide and there was a crime to solve after all. Terry would call his colleagues in the morning and get an update. Reed agreed to the breakfast, said goodbye, and walked back to his car.

  Terry returned to his patrol car and called Michelle to make plans for the evening. It turned out that she was grocery shopping for dinner food when her phone rang, and she was thankful for the invitation to eat out. She had struck a blank on what to make for dinner and, had Terry not called, they would probably have ended up with frozen pizza. Terry drove his patrol car back to the station, switched over to his personal red Jeep Grand Cherokee and continued home.

  Chapter 2

  Family Time

  Michelle and Kim were out when Terry arrived home and the house was silent except for the purring of his daughter’s cat that now rubbed at his legs as he walked to the bedroom to change out of his uniform. He changed into a pair of khakis and a faded Seattle Seahawks t-shirt and retired to the basement television room. Emotionally drained and physically exhausted, he dropped lengthwise onto the couch and tried to catch some sleep but, try as he may to relax and clear his mind, it kept racing with thoughts of the girl’s body at the ramp.

  How would he feel if it had been his daughter in the car? How many times had she come to him for advice or comfort when he had felt too busy to talk? The times she would want to discuss something on her mind, and he would tell her to come back later or that her problems were not really that big and that she needed to grow up and deal with them on her own. How would he feel if he was not there when his own daughter needed him and, in her isolation, felt driven to end her life? After what seemed to Terry like hours, he fell into a troubled sleep.

  An hour later, he woke up refreshed but still troubled. He looked forward to dinner with Michelle and Kim. Lately it seemed that they shared too little time together as a family. Kim was active in several school activities and was out most evenings with her friends.

  He walked up from the basement to the living room and sat on the couch.

  As he settled in, Michelle walked in the front door, “Hey honey, what came over you today? It’s been ages since the three of us went out for a nice evening together.” she asked almost before she had finished closing the door behind her.

  Terry looked up, “Didn’t you hear the news today?”

  She set
two canvass shopping bags on the dining room table, “No, I have been out and about all day and didn’t have the radio on. Why?”

  “There was a suicide at the West Seattle boat ramp. At least I think it was a suicide. Reed and I were there when they removed the body of a young woman from a car that had driven into the water. For some reason it hit me hard and I kept thinking of Kim and her friends.

  Michelle looked shocked and asked, “Did you recognize her? Was it anyone we know?”

  Terry answered, “No. Her driver’s license shows she was a seventeen-year-old from Gig Harbor. Also, not likely to be one of Kim’s friends. She had a shaved head and dyed hair. Not the type Kim would hang out with.”

  Michelle walked over and sat down next to him, “Why didn’t you tell me this on the phone?”

  “I didn’t feel like going into it right then. Anyway, right now I just want to spend some time with Kim and you this evening. We don’t do enough of that anymore.”

  Terry got up and walked out to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Captain Morgan from the cupboard. “But first, I need a rum and coke.”

  “Make me one too. And then you can tell me more about today.” Michelle had seen Terry get upset before when he had been called to a particularly bad accident or crime and she knew it calmed him down to talk it out. She turned on the gas fireplace to make the room more comforting and sat back on the couch to hear more about the drowning.

  In the kitchen Terry took two tall glasses and added a few cubes of ice to each followed by a generous amount of rum topped off with an only slightly greater amount of coke. As he finished stirring the drinks, he heard his daughter Kim burst into the house, “Daddy, did you hear about the girl drowning at Alki? Were you there? Was she from West Seattle?”

  The home’s front door opened directly into the living room and Michelle jumped up to intercept Kim as she entered, “Kim, calm down. Yes, your father was there. But right now, he and I are going to relax and visit for a few minutes by ourselves. Then we will all go out to dinner. You can talk with him about it then. Now go clean up and get ready to go out.”