Murder by the Seaside (16 page)

“No alarm on a place like this? Stupid.” Sebastian piled my things onto a kitchen island the size of my living room and checked out the house.

“It’s Chincoteague. Nothing happens here.”

He cocked an eyebrow and walked away.

I hated to leave the kitchen. It was something off of HGTV. Forget the wraparound porch, I wanted to live in the kitchen. The refrigerator was bigger than my Prius, but empty. Figured. I guess it was too much to expect he cooked, too.

“I hate this guy.” Sebastian’s voice echoed through the house. I started down a long hallway toward the sound. On the way I passed an open fireplace in the middle of an enormous two-story great room, a wall of windows faced the marsh and a winding staircase. Then I found him.

The first floor master bedroom made the rest of the house look mediocre. A king-sized bed draped in gray and black satin stood atop a two-step platform in the center of the room. A skylight in the cathedral ceiling overhead streamed in shades of pink from the setting sun.

“Look.” Sebastian lifted a remote and a flat-screen television rose from a mahogany stand at the foot of the bed. A moment later the lights dimmed. Then a small corner fireplace flicked on. He tossed the remote onto the bed. “I can’t imagine why you were so eager to stay here. Maybe I should stay with you. For protection.”

“Ha.”

“Fine. I’m going back to your place to try to get attacked so I can break this guy and put the case to rest. Plus, I need to contact the EPA about the dumping and the harbor to find out where Perkins’s old spot was.”

My head fell backward. “I should’ve asked him. Jeez. We were right there and I never thought to ask.”

“I did. I figured he’d lie then tip off whoever he’s got a deal going with.”

“Tap his phone.” We could run back there with one more question then wait to see who he called.

“Not without the proper paperwork. We don’t have anything strong enough to get clearance on that kind of privacy invasion.”

“Fine. Enjoy your vacation.” Dumb rules.

I walked him to the door. He leaned forward and kissed the top of my head. Before pulling away, he breathed against my ear, “Call me if you need anything.” A shiver dropped to my toes and my cheeks caught fire.

By the time my senses returned, Sebastian was long gone. My tummy growled. I considered a trip to the Tasty Cream, but decided I had temporary custody of a kitchen too fabulous to ignore. I grabbed my purse and headed to Frontier Foods, the island’s only grocery.

Twenty minutes later, I had the makings of a feast with all the trimmings. I unloaded my arms onto the counter. The cashier’s eyes widened when she saw me. Did she recognize me? I didn’t recognize her. The family in front of me paid for a stack of fixings big enough for a great cookout, while I ran through a mental list of ways I might know the cashier. I came up empty.

My mind wouldn’t stop working on more pressing issues. What kind of coldblooded killer bothered to whisper his threats to me? He’d had me alone. I was in his hands, yet he didn’t kill me. The thought he knew me personally had taken up root in my brain. If we weren’t connected somehow, I’d be dead. Wouldn’t I? I’d run through a lengthy list of old teachers, coaches, friends of my parents, trying to label one a killer. I couldn’t. Now I had new information to deal with. This threat-maker/killer moonlighted as an ocean contaminator and he had enough money to pay off Perkins and McGee. I didn’t know anyone like that. Did I?

“Patience Price?” The lady behind the counter smiled.

I was up. “Yes.”

She burst into tears.

“Um.” I looked around, nervous to discover no one in sight. No one. I patted her shoulder across the conveyor belt. “It’s okay. Hey, don’t cry. I don’t have to buy all this junk.” I had picked up way too many desserts. Stress eating.

She lifted a package onto the scanner.
Beep.
“It’s my dog.”

“I’m sorry?” I cocked an eyebrow.

Beep.
She shoved the peppers and bruschetta into a paper sack. “He ran away when I was working in the garden last month. He never came back, and I think he might be lost in the national park.”

My heart clenched. Did horses eat puppies? No. They could kick him, though. I bet they’d kick him for being on their turf. “I’m sure he’s fine. No one’s found him?”

“No.” Sniff. Sniff.
Beep.
“I put signs up everywhere. What if a tourist took him home?”

Or he drowned in the ocean. “I’m sure he’s fine. You need to stay strong for him.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes.”
Beep.
Beep.
She slid the Oreos in beside the Nutter Butters. “I do need to be strong for him. I’m off tomorrow. I should pack his favorite treats and go door to door looking for him.”

“I bet he’d appreciate that. No matter what happens, you’ll know you did all you could.”

She nodded in acceptance. We shook hands. “I’m Melissa.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I fished a pack of travel tissues from my purse.

“Have a nice night.” She packed the eggs and bread on top and turned to leave her station.

“But...” I took the packages, wondering if I’d just made a friend or met a patient.

“It’s on me.” She smiled sweetly, wiping tears. “Thank you. Everyone around here’s right about you. You’re sweet. I hope people will stop shooting at you soon.”

“Me, too.” I raised my hand and started for the door. A wave of guilt crashed over me. I turned back for the counter and extended the cookie bag in her direction. “Did your puppy like cookies?”

“Y-y-yes.” She burst into sobs and I wrapped an arm around her.

When I finally walked outside, it was dark. I approached the cart with trepidation, watching under it as I got closer. No bad guys in the backseat. I climbed in and my hand slid over something disgusting.

“Ah!” I jumped out, wiping my hands on my shorts, praying it wasn’t blood. I dashed to the window of the store and examined my hand. Nothing. For a minute I wondered if a bird bombed me. I clicked my phone into flashlight mode and went back to the cart.

Eggs.

Someone had egged my cart while I was buying dinner. Every square inch of the seat was smeared in slick, clear slime and yellow goo. Cracked shells stuck to every surface. I turned the phone over to call Sebastian, and the light caught something else.

Someone had spray-painted
Whore
on the hood.
Home Wrecker
extended around the driver side to the back bumper. I choked.
Home Wrecker
? Seriously? I snapped a few pictures and sent them to Sebastian. My life was ridiculous wrapped in impossible. Mary Franks had lost her mind. Apparently Hank hadn’t come clean and admitted to seeing me for therapy. I couldn’t tell her he was a patient. I took an oath. Confidentiality was paramount to counselors.

The minute my life wasn’t in danger, I was registering those two with a family plan.

Chapter Sixteen

I woke to the sounds of an intruder. My unfamiliar surroundings disarmed me. Hurrying to hide, I tangled and slid in the masses of silk sheets. My legs were pinned, and the floor wasn’t where it should be. I tumbled onto the floor, bouncing against the two steps below the bed. Ouch! Wide awake and sore, a shock of recollection brought my life back in focus.

Hooray! I knew where I was.

Boo! I still heard the intruder.

Scrambling to my feet, I ducked behind the door and listened, hoping to localize the sounds and form a plan. Running water set the backdrop. Sizzling punctuated the white noise of the sink, and scents of coffee and bacon danced down the hall. The intruder was making breakfast. I eased from my hideout and braved the hall.

Whistling drifted along with the scrumptious smells.

“Hello?” I wrapped my arms across my middle, hoping it was Sebastian and not a cooking killer.

“Remember when we used to play house?” Adrian flipped a pancake over his massive silver stovetop. “I always knew I’d make you breakfast one day. How’d you sleep?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here. What are you doing here?” He wiped his hands onto a towel on the counter and moved in my direction. The ridiculous dimple I’d kissed a thousand times made an appearance.

“Hiding. Sebastian thought I’d be safe here. He’s sleeping in my bed, hoping the bad guy will go there to attack me.”

Adrian frowned.

“Do you mind if I stay here?” I asked.

“Of course not. Sit. Eat.” He returned to the counter, dished out bacon and pancakes for two and then poured coffee into twin mugs.

“Thanks.” I sat down on a stool at the kitchen’s island, wishing he hadn’t mentioned us playing house. We set up house under my parent’s home every day after school until fifth grade. I was the wife, and he was the husband. I made him sand pies and he kissed my cheeks the way we watched Dad kiss Mom every day. My gut twisted. I needed a subject change.

“We talked to Perkins.”

“I heard.” He pulled out a stool beside me and dug in. “Your roommate filled me in last night.”

“Ah.” Images of the fight I’d broken up between the two men flashed through my mind. I gulped the coffee. “How did that go?”

“You were wrong. He isn’t any fun, but we came to an agreement.”

“Which is what?” I couldn’t imagine what they might agree on. Pistols at sunrise came to mind.

“We both want you safe. We both want to know what’s going on with the dumping and why the McGees had to die over it. Once you figure that out, I’ll turn myself in.”

He looked more confident than I felt. No big deal. Have some pancakes, solve some murders.

“Your phone hasn’t stopped dancing,” he said.

My phone buzzed in a small circle on vibrate. I couldn’t believe I left it on the counter all night. I usually slept with it on the nightstand. Good thing I hadn’t needed to call 911. I lifted it to check messages.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” What kind of people would keep calling their predecessor for help doing her old job? Rude didn’t begin to cover it.

“So, what’s the plan?” Adrian ran his empty plate under water. “Your guard dog didn’t have a lot of answers.”

“What makes you think I do?”

“You’re always plotting something.”

“Am not.”

He stopped and turned to stare.

Fine. “Do you happen to know where Brady and Perkins used to fish until a couple of months ago?”

“Why? Are you planning to scuba dive and strap the toxic barrels to your back?”

“He told you about the barrels?” It didn’t seem like Sebastian to share information with Adrian, especially when he didn’t trust him. Or maybe he knew about the barrels because he was involved. I set my fork down and swallowed hard.

“I might’ve overheard him on the phone.”

And he also might’ve been dumping them himself. Maybe that’s what brought him back to the island.

I looked at my phone again, pretending to check the time. “Shoot. You’d better scram. Sebastian’s meeting me here.”

He looked at me, his expression wary. “McGee fished out by the Saturday night spot.” I blushed. I’d spent plenty of Saturday nights with Adrian at that spot, many of them skinny-dipping. “Thanks. I’ll check it out.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the top of my head and let himself out the side door. “Don’t trash the place. Here’s a key. Don’t leave the house unlocked anymore.” He flicked a key dangling from a hook beside the door.

I’d had to leave the house unlocked when I went for groceries or I wouldn’t have been able to get back in.

The minute he disappeared I ran to get dressed, then grabbed the oldest-looking towel I could find and slung it over one shoulder. I also texted Sebastian to let him know I was heading to my parents’. Once I dropped the cart off there, I wasn’t driving it anymore. Ever.

On the way out, I locked up, checked the knob twice and wondered if Adrian would be back. Had he been here all night? How’d he know it was unlocked while I was at the grocery unless he walked in during that time? I unraveled a few feet of garden hose from the side of Adrian’s house and turned the knob. Bracing myself for the strongest spray I could create, I hosed busted shells and egg from the cart. What appeared to be raccoon scat triggered my gag reflex. There was little to be done about the graffiti. I hung up the hose and rubbed the towel over the seat before climbing aboard. The golf cart purred to life and floated down the quiet streets.

Keeping my chin high on Main Street wasn’t easy. Not in a purple golf cart with
WHORE
on the hood. Heads turned and cell phones appeared. Safe to assume half called to report my profanity mobile and the other half snapped pictures. I was sure to be tomorrow’s front page news—again. Mom started a collection after the drive-by shooting. The car bomb made two articles for her scrapbook. Home wrecker should make three. If counseling failed, I’d try my hand at local celebrity.

Mom stood on the sidewalk outside The Pony, chattering into her phone as she waited on me. When she saw me, she laughed. The cart stopped right in front of her, and she ran to give me a hug.

“Oh, honey. I came right outside as soon as I heard you were coming my way.” She tugged me into the shop with her.

Dad slipped outside. He circled the cart slowly, rubbing his forehead. I held my breath, waiting. He waved and yelled, “Not a big deal. I can fix it.”

For the first time, I wished I had some of his special water to calm me down. That was the most humiliating drive I’d ever made, even worse than leaving the FBI when they fired me. What if people in town thought Sebastian was my married boyfriend? Who knew what anyone would make of such an act of vandalism.

“It’s bad karma.” This was Mom’s equivalent to “It’s not your fault.”

“I’ve done nothing to earn bad karma. I’m trying to help people.” I sank into a nest of pillows by the children’s book area of The Pony. Leafing through a stack of pony-themed board books, I felt almost like a child again.

The bell tinkled over the front door and I slunk lower into the pillows. Sebastian and Dad walked inside. My parents disappeared, and Sebastian joined me on the floor.

“Nice ride.” I guessed the pictures I sent hadn’t done it justice. The poor little cart was one of those things a person needed to see to fully appreciate. Sebastian joined me on the floor. My parents disappeared. “Your ex stopped up to see you last night. I’m not sure he’s convinced he’s your
ex
.”

“I heard.”

Sebastian’s face blanked. “When?”

“He made me breakfast.”

His teeth ground together. The muscles in his jaw worked. His eye twitched.

“He didn’t sleep over. He was in the kitchen when I woke up. I thought he was an intruder.” Explaining myself bothered me even more than checking in with him. This situation wasn’t working for me. The days when I made my own schedule with nary a thought of death seemed long past instead of just last week.

His shoulders relaxed. “I mean, if he did, that’s fine.”

Fine? That made me mad, too. I must’ve looked like I felt because he began to fumble.

“It’s not fine. Or, fine to you, not to me.” He cleared his throat, inhaled deeply and locked eyes with me. “You should be happy. I’m not here to tell you who to spend your time with. That sounds exhausting.” His eyes looked wild, but somehow he concealed emotion like I concealed cellulite. “I came here to help you clear your ex of a crime, and then people started shooting at you. Now it isn’t about him anymore, but he’s still in the picture? Inconceivable.” He shifted on the pillows, looking frustrated. “This is crazy. Right?”

I loved that he used the word
inconceivable.
It had been one of my favorite words since I watched
The Princess Bride
in kindergarten. “What do you mean? This isn’t how it usually goes when you start seeing someone?”

His cheek lifted with the hint of a smile.

Crap. Did I say we were seeing each other? Were we seeing each other? We weren’t. Were we?

“All fixed.” Dad dusted his palms together, returning from outside.

I scurried to the door. “Oh. No.” I shoved my way out into the sunlight, letting the door slap shut behind me. Dad had painted giant ovals and polka dots over the letters in a dark shade of hot pink.

“What do you think, Peepee? Pink’s still your favorite color, right? Everyone likes polka dots.”

“It looks like my sister’s old lava lamp.” Sebastian smiled at Dad.

“Yep.” I marched back into the store, passing Dad and Sebastian. “Mom!”

Mom popped her head out from the back room.

“I’m going to ride home with Sebastian.” I’d had enough of the golf cart.

I turned back toward the door. Sebastian and Dad stood side by side. They looked out at the harbor, arms folded over their chests, neither of them speaking. Next to Sebastian, Dad looked like a Care Bear. Dad trusted everyone. Sebastian trusted no one. Dad wore shirts to protest war and support PETA. Sebastian wore jackets to cover his Glock.

I never had to worry about my parents being too tough on a new guy before. They liked and approved of everyone, but Sebastian was the first true stranger I’d ever brought home to meet them. It was a little late to be nervous, considering we’d shacked up a week ago, but a hoard of butterflies invaded my stomach anyway.

“You coming out, Peepee?” Dad pulled the door wide.

I’d stopped mid-push.

Sebastian furrowed his brow. “You all right?”

“Hot. I think. Tired.” Crazy-sexy and apparently sixteen again. “Can I ride with you?” I waved toward the cart by way of explanation.

Sebastian tilted his head to the Range Rover and swung the passenger door open for me. I kissed Dad’s cheek good-bye and climbed in. We went straight to Adrian’s house. After he’d checked every room thoroughly, Sebastian turned to me. “I get the feeling Adrian has your place bugged. I don’t know how he gets in or out, either. How about we stay here awhile? I’ll make dinner and hang out with you until dark.”

“I’ll make dinner.” While I worked in the grand kitchen, I cooked up a plan. As much as I enjoyed Sebastian’s company and appreciated his protection, I had something I wanted to do alone.

“Can you believe this place?” Sebastian straddled a stool at the kitchen island. “How can he afford it? He doesn’t seem to have a job.”

“You don’t need a job if you have a trust fund. Besides, he’s had four years since he finished his MBA to rack up savings.”

“No school loans?” Sebastian tapped his fingers against the marble island top.

“Nope.” Unlike me. I had a ton of student loans. I’d insisted on paying my own way when my parents offered, and partial scholarships only go so far.

“Adrian’s family’s been on the island forever. I think his ancestors crashed here on a boat from Spain and stayed. They’re like royalty here.”

“He doesn’t look Hispanic.”

I shrugged. “I don’t look Italian, but my mom’s dad came over from Italy.”

He nodded. “His mom owns the tanning salon?”

“She really likes a good tan.”

“A tanning salon on an island doesn’t seem like a big moneymaker.” Sebastian snorted.

“The Davises are shellfish farmers. They have been for generations. Their stuff is sold in every grocery chain in the country.”

“Shellfish.” He released a little laugh and joined me at the stove. “What do you have going over here?” He stopped behind me. “This is grilled cheese.”

“I’m not a great cook.” I never had time to learn and frankly, my appetite waned by the day.

“I love grilled cheese.” Sebastian’s voice had a smile in it. He opened cupboards until he found two plates, and I dished up the sandwiches.

“No, you don’t. I should’ve made something better.” My shoulders slumped. My heart wasn’t into playing hostess. Life was too complicated and I was in a hurry.

He carried our plates to the island and we ate in companionable silence. Sebastian never wasted words. Quiet people used to make me nervous. Lately I found a new appreciation for being still.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable here alone?” he asked. He carried our empty dishes, washed them and set them in the rack to dry.

“I’m fine. Really.” I hoped he believed me. I hadn’t fully convinced myself yet.

Sebastian took another trip around the house, peeking into doors and listening, as if someone could sneak inside without him knowing.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you for staying at my place, and for looking after me. I know you have your own things to deal with.”

He returned to the kitchen and stepped into my personal space.

“I’m glad to be here.” His eyes bore into mine.

My craning neck ached from looking up at him. My mind went blank.

“I’ll come back in the morning.” He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I pressed one cheek against his shirt and relaxed into the embrace.

“Stay inside. Don’t open the door for strangers. Call me if you need anything, if you hear or see something unusual, or just get nervous and want company. Anything. Understand?”

I nodded against his shirt because I could only agree to some of his requests. If I made eye contact during a lie, even a partial one, I was toast.