The Price of Candy by Rod Hoisington

She tried to explain Jamie was missing and his
ex was refusing to alert the police. He didn’t understand who Sandy
was. He said he’d phone Abby and then phone back.
    She took out Detective Triney’s card. “Sorry
to bother you. You must be off duty by now,” she said when he came
on the line. “I wanted you to know I was able to identify Jamie’s
father.”
    “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
    “His name is Kevin R. Olin...lives in Athens,
GA. He sounded upset when I told him his daughter was missing. He’s
checking me out. Will phone back. He’ll be happy to report the
kidnapping, and then you can start the official search.”
    Silence.
    “You there, Triney?”
    “I’m thinking I know that name. Yes...a
couple of months back. This gets a little weird. I need to explain
it to you in person. Let’s meet in the parking lot of the Ramada
out by I-95.”
    “Okay, I know where it is. When?”
    “How about eight in the morning? One more
question before we meet. Were you down here in Florida in November
when that woman’s naked body was found on the beach?”
     
     
     

Chapter Twelve
     
    Triney had her thinking all night about
locating Jamie’s father. And why had the detective mentioned a
naked body on the beach in the same conversation? Triney was
waiting in his unmarked vehicle in the parking lot of the Ramada
when she arrived. He waved and motioned her over. “Unless you’re
dying for coffee, let’s talk out here.”
    “I don’t know your first name.” She slid in
beside him.
    “Harold, Harold Triney, perfectly awful, I
know. They called me Skinny in high school. Would you rather go
inside and have tea?”
    She shook her head. “Skinny Triney isn’t much
better. Bet they don’t call you Skinny these days.”
    “Hey, watch it, girl.” He laughed. “First
off, it’s good you located Jamie’s father, Kevin Olin. However,
you’ll have to deal with him yourself. Out of line for me to do it
until there is an official kidnapping.”
    “You mentioned the case of a nude body on the
beach. I’m almost afraid to ask. Does this have something to do
with Kevin Olin?”
    “Yes...”
    “Oh god, don’t tell me!” she interrupted.
    “Let me explain. It was Privado Beach, just
inside the city limits. Last year, November. It was a Park Beach
city case, however they briefed all of us at the sheriff’s office.
Do you know about the case?
    She shook her head. “I’d just arrived from
Philly and was preoccupied with getting my brother out of
jail.”
    “Busy getting close to Chip Goddard, from
what I hear. He’s a lucky guy. Anyway, Privado has a reputation as
a party beach and there had been trouble out there before. Nothing
like a dead woman. An early morning beach walker spotted the body
of an adult female out there. Most would call her nice-looking,
your age, maybe a bit younger. Half in, half out of the water. No
clothes found anywhere.”
    “Skinny dipping?”
    “Nothing found, no sunglasses, no swimsuit,
no purse, nothing.”
    “Murdered. I suppose we’re getting to
that?”
    Triney wasn’t the kind of man to waste time
or words. He turned away from her toward the highway as though
checking the traffic. “Some would say worse.”
    “Got it. Rape and murder.”
    “No, the M.E. determined the cause of death
was asphyxiation. Said she choked to death on a pretzel.”
    “Choked to death on a pretzel,” she repeated
slowly, unsure of what she heard.
    “Death by choking is not uncommon,” he
explained. “A leading cause of accidental death. People
underestimate the danger of choking. Stop breathing and you’ll die
within five minutes.”
    “So there was no murder, so where’s the
crime? If she started choking and no one was around to help her,
it’d be a horrible way to die. But surely not worse, as you said,
than being murdered.”
    “Death isn’t always the last outrage.” The
detective hesitated and then said, “Posthumous penetration.” He
looked down and then up slowly