“Sure, everyone around here did. I suppose you could have even called us friends.”
Liz’s cheeks warmed. If Rachel and Heather had been friends, wouldn’t Rachel have mentioned her sister?
She realized the other woman was looking at her oddly and Liz forced a smile. “You suppose?”
Heather lifted a shoulder. “She was extremely busy, so was I. We were never actually able to do more than have a quick chat when we ran into each other. But I liked her. A lot.”
“Have you closed up shop for the day?’
“Yes, I’m happy to say. Why, are you in sudden need of a bikini?”
“Hardly.” Liz smiled again. “You’ve come to my rescue twice now and I’d love to express my thanks by treating you to a drink or dinner.”
Heather waved the offer off. “That’s absolutely not necessary.”
“I’d like to anyway. If you have the time?”
Heather glanced at her watch then paused, as if considering the things she had to do and how much time it would all take. She returned her gaze to Liz’s and smiled. “After the day I had, a drink would be great. I know just the place.”
Five minutes later they were sitting at a small outdoor table at the Iguana Café. Liz took Heather’s suggestion and ordered a rum runner, a Key West specialty made with blackberry and banana brandy, light and dark rum, cherry juice and sweet-and-sour mix. Heather ordered the same, warning Liz that the refreshing drink packed a deceptive punch.
“This place is a favorite with the locals,” Heather murmured as their drinks arrived. “Great café con leche and Cuban sandwiches. The best, in my opinion.”
“I’ll remember that,” Liz murmured. She took a sip of the frozen concoction. Tall, fruity and delicious, Liz could see why they had become a favorite with Key Westers and tourists alike.
“I heard about last night,” Heather whispered, leaning toward her. “I heard you found…that girl.” She shuddered. “How are you?”
Liz set her glass down hard. “Truthfully? Not so great. Shook up.”
“How did you…I mean, what were you doing out so late?”
Liz told her about not being able to sleep and going for a run. “I heard a noise and went to investigate.” She looked down at her drink, then back up at Heather. “I wish I hadn’t.”
“No kidding.” Heather picked up her drink as if to take a sip, then set it back down, expression distressed. “I knew that girl.”
Liz straightened. “You did?”
“Mmm, kind of. She came into the shop sometimes. Most of the local kids do.” Her lips lifted. “A by-product of the kind of merchandise I sell.”
“Did Tara shoplift?”
“Her name was Tara?” Liz nodded and Heather continued. “No. Not that I know of, anyway. She seemed like a nice kid.”
“She was troubled,” Liz murmured before she could stop herself.
“What do you mean? Was she in your care?”
Liz brought a hand to her mouth, distressed at the slip. “Please, forget I said that. I shouldn’t have.” She changed the topic by asking the other woman about herself.
“Me?” Heather murmured with a small shake to her head. “I’m afraid there’s nothing too exciting to tell. I grew up in Miami, gave college a try but dropped out to do some modeling.” She laughed, then made a face. “It wasn’t for me. Or rather I wasn’t for it.”
“What happened?” Liz asked, honestly curious. The other woman was so beautiful, she would have thought her a natural. She told her so.
Heather laughed again. “That’s a common misconception about models. Many of them aren’t exceptionally pretty in real life-it’s the camera that makes them so. The camera loves them. It didn’t love me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I blame my mother,” she smiled. “I inherited her bone structure, which the camera flattens. Actually, I think she was more disappointed I didn’t make it as a model than I was.”
“Are you two close?”
“Not really. I rarely see her even though she lives just up the Keys in Islamorada.” Heather took a long sip of her cocktail. “I drifted into retailing, then down here. I opened up my shop a few years back.”
Liz wanted desperately to ask her about Rachel, but didn’t know where to begin. Should she tell her who she was? That Rachel was her sister and that was why she was here on Key West? Her instincts told her Heather was an ally, but what if she was wrong? What if she told Heather the truth and alienated her?
The other woman solved the problem by bringing Rachel up herself. “I probably shouldn’t have said that about that poor man, that Stephen.” She sighed. “It’s just that, after what Rachel said about catching him peeking in her windows…”
“I heard she disappeared. The former pastor of Paradise Christian, that is.”
Heather’s expression became guarded. “What about it?”
Liz fiddled with her straw, trying not to look too anxious. “It sounded a little weird to me, that’s all. A pastor just up and running off like that. Is that what you believe happened to her?”
Heather sighed again. “I don’t know what to believe. The Rachel I knew would never have done something like that.”
“Really?” Liz leaned forward. “Why not?”
“She loved Paradise Christian. Loved Key West.” Her voice thickened slightly. “She was devoted to the congregation.” A frown formed between her eyebrows. “I was on a buying trip when she disappeared. I learned what happened when I returned. I feel really bad about that. Like maybe she needed me and I wasn’t here for her.”
A lump formed in Liz’s throat even as a surge of affection rose in her for this woman she hardly knew. Because she had known and cared for Rachel. And because she felt the same way Liz did, the same regret and guilt.
She had found a potential champion, Liz acknowledged. Someone who would back Liz up if she found any proof supporting her suspicions that Rachel had met with foul play.
“Did you talk to the police? Did you tell them the things you just told me?”
“I tried.” She dropped her hands to her lap. “But the thing is, something had been bothering Rachel. She had been upset about something and acting…strangely.”
“Upset about what?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Was it Stephen she was frightened of?” Liz pressed.
“Frightened,” Heather repeated, looking at Liz, eyebrows drawn together. “Did I say she was frightened?”
“No, I guess you…didn’t. I just…I suppose I was just filling in the blanks.”
Heather’s frown deepened. She brought a hand to her neck, to the jeweled monogram that hung on a fine gold chain. “You know, that’s a good way to describe how she acted. But of who or what, I don’t know.”
CHAPTER 21
Saturday, November 10
5:15 p.m.
Mark huddled in the corner of his rented room, eyes fixed on the door. His teeth chattered and he clutched a frayed blanket to his chest, unable to get warm despite the stifling heat of the room. He doubted he would ever be warm again.
Tara was dead. His unborn child, dead. Both murdered.
Mark squeezed his eyes shut, the horror of the past hours washing over him. He struggled to fit all the pieces together, to fill in some of the blanks. He had gone to meet her, as they’d planned. The garden gate had been open. He had eased through and softly called her name. She hadn’t answered.
Concerned and confused, he had crept farther into the garden, careful to be quiet, not wanting to awaken Pastor Tim or Stephen, the old caretaker. He had wondered if she had changed her mind. Or if her parents had caught her sneaking out and prevented her from meeting him.
Then things got fuzzy. He remembered seeing her lying there, covered in blood.
Mark pressed a fist to his mouth to hold back a howl of grief. From outside came the sounds of children playing in the park across the street. Although little more than a sandy patch of ground with a tired swing set and slide, the neighborhood kids didn’t seem to mind.