Free Darkness & Shadows by Andrew E. Kaufman Page B

more.
    The Sea of Fire. This is the second death
…
    Two fires. Two deaths. The connection was chilling.
    And the implications were worse, because now Patrick recognized that Marybeth could have been in some kind of trouble,and that trouble might have found its way back, this time ending her life.
    That realization, though hard to take, also seemed to give Patrick a measure of comfort, because he now knew that Marybeth might not have ever wanted to leave him—she might have had no other choice. A matter of survival. And that brought relief, followed by more sadness, because before he could save her, she was gone again. He never had a chance.
    His cell rang. A number he didn’t recognize.
    “Mr. Bannister?”
    “This is.”
    “Dave Wesson from the Medical Examiner’s.” Wesson cleared his throat. “I’m looking at the records for the dates you requested. I’ve got nothing.”
    “What do you mean,
nothing
?”
    “I mean, there were no victims in that fire.”
    “That can’t be,” Patrick said. “You sure you’re looking at the right information?”
    “Yeah, it’s right here on my screen. Checked our records, double-checked the fire inspector’s report. No fatalities.”
    “But I was there. I saw the body myself when they pulled it out of the building.”
    “Mr. Bannister, I don’t know what you saw, but it couldn’t have been a body because there was none.”
    Patrick nervously ran a hand across his face. “Could the records be mixed up? How about a death nearby? Anywhere near the campus?”
    More keyboard clicks. “No to all the above.”
    “What about at a nearby hospital?”
    “No burn victims, that’s for sure.”
    Patrick sighed. “Thanks, Dave. I appreciate the callback… and the info.”
    “You bet.”
    Before he could put his phone away, it rang again. Another number he didn’t recognize. Maybe it was the body calling.
    Get a grip, Patrick
, he thought, and answered the call.
    “Mr. Bannister,” a measured female voice said. “It’s Lilliana DeFrancisco.”
    Not a body, but almost as good. She was the last person on earth he expected to hear from.
    “Hi, Lilliana, how—”
    “I’ll talk to you,” she interjected, with a sense of urgency he hadn’t heard when they’d last met.
    “Okay…” Patrick said, still unsure whether he was hearing her right… or for that matter, why he was hearing her at all. “When and where?”
    “Any place my husband won’t find out about.”
    “Ocean Beach Pier in about an hour?”
    “Fine,” she said, and hung up.
    Patrick stared at his phone again, an odd combination of anticipation and caution fluttering through him. What in the world had changed her mind?

C hapter S ixteen
    C HAPTER S IXTEEN
    Unlike other San Diego coastal communities, Ocean Beach could at times cast unflattering vibes: hip, but not in a chic or trendy way—more of a funky bohemian affect. The outlying neighborhood was lined with old-style cottages and beach bungalows, some in good shape, some in downward stages of disrepair, some just downward. The commercial side was just as eclectic, with a peculiar combination of mom-and-pop stores, head shops, and organic produce stands. The inhabitants were equally diverse, a commingling of yuppies, surfers, and an occasional tourist or three. If Lilliana wanted anonymity from her high-society La Jolla crowd, as well as from her control-freak husband, this was the place that could assure it.
    After pulling into the parking lot, Patrick reached for his notebook, then thought better of it. As skittish as Lilliana had been about talking to him, he decided it would be best to leave the notebook behind. He shoved it under the passenger seat.
    But when he arrived at the pier, she wasn’t there.
    He walked along it just in case she was waiting, but after going up one side, then down the other, Patrick found himselfempty-handed. After thirty minutes, it seemed obvious: he’d been stood up.
    More than a little irritated, he checked his