Murder by the Seaside (20 page)

“Affirmative?” A vein in his neck pulsed blue beneath his skin.

“Affirmative.”

Chapter Twenty

There wasn’t enough coffee or aloe in the world to help me with my guilt over Adrian and my paranoia over what Perkins was up to, or to soothe my screaming sunburn. I tugged on my favorite cutoffs and one of Sebastian’s T-shirts. The faded blue cotton covered my shorts completely. I tucked in the front and stuffed my feet into sandals. I had a feeling it was a ponytail and dark glasses kind of day.

Sebastian’s laptop sat on the kitchen counter with a scrolling screensaver. “
I’ll be back late.
Don’t wait up.
” A handful of ellipses followed. I waited. The follow-up to his note made me smile. “
Don’t do anything impetuous until I get back.
”

Looking at the screensaver warning, a number of impetuous options sprang to mind, but Sebastian meant “don’t get hurt.” I had no intention. Until my sunburn healed, nothing would convince me to go anywhere near the boathouse or Perkins. I pulled my bedroom door shut and locked it before leaving. Then I locked and double-checked my front door. I had plenty to think over, but without coffee I couldn’t even apply mascara.

Making coffee required more energy than I had in reserve, so I went to see Mrs. Tucker at the Tasty Cream. Freud followed me across the street.

“Wait here.”

When I opened the door to the ice cream parlor, I shuddered at the cold blow of the air-conditioning over my burn. Mrs. Tucker took one look at me and stopped wiping the countertop. She didn’t look surprised, only a little sad. Probably someone had reported my condition already. After all, I’d been out of the house for at least three minutes.

“Oh, honey.” Her bottom lip pressed forward.

“Coffee.” I slid onto a red vinyl-topped stool at the counter. “Ouchie.”

She tipped her head over one shoulder. “Sam wasn’t joking. He came for breakfast this morning and said he saw you last night.” She retrieved a cup from under the counter. A few minutes later an aroma so heavenly I wanted to cry swam up my nose.

“Cappuccino.”

Mmm. I lifted the cup to my mouth, careful to keep it on the unburned half of my lips as much as possible. Each sip brought the world more into focus. By the time I finished my second refill, the hamster wheel in my head had churned out a dozen possibilities about Perkins.

“You want to talk about it?” Mrs. Tucker smiled. Her kind face used to comfort me in times of trouble. This time I needed more than the assurance of unconditional friendship.

“I think I need to talk to Adrian first. I owe him an apology.”

“Honey, no one blames you. Least of all him.” She held up a finger, signaling me to wait.

“Well, well, well.” A brassy voice screeched through my peaceful moment.

I took a deep breath and turned to greet my high school nemesis. “Karen Holsten. How delightful to see you.” I tried to smile but failed.

She waved her enormous diamond in my face, wiggling her fingers. “That’s Karen Holsten-Thompson now. In case you haven’t heard, I’m soon to be the mayor’s wife.”

“Good luck to your husband.”

Mrs. Tucker returned with a Styrofoam bowl of milk and a to-go tray. A lidded cup and small white bag sat on the tray. “For Freud and your friend.” She looked between Karen and me. Worry changed her friendly features. “The one you’re going to talk to.”

“Oh.” Befuddled by Karen’s ability to look better than she did ten years ago, it took me a minute to catch on. “Oh! Thank you.” I walked past Karen without a good-bye. I had no idea what to say to her. “Have a nice day.” I called out, speaking mostly to Mrs. Tucker.

A pair of heels clicked over the floor behind me. I kept going.

“Is that little to-go order for the man who’s been staying with you?” Scandal coated the words. Her face was so eager when I turned to look at her, I wanted to laugh. Who could blame her? She had agreed to marry Beau Thompson and cuddle his portly physique for the rest of her life. I got to live with Sebastian, who, for all she knew, I got to cuddle every night. Everyone with eyes could see his physique was far from portly.

“Congratulations on the engagement.”

She looked me over. “What happened to your face? Did someone forget her sunscreen?” She pressed out her bottom lip and locked her fingers around the curves of her tiny waist. “That sunburn will add ten years to your face and increase your likelihood of skin cancer.”

My blush flamed hotter than my sunburn. “Best of luck with the campaign.” My voice hitched.

Mention of the campaign seemed to snap her out of attack mode. Karen smacked her lips. “Oh, we don’t need any luck. Our only competition is in jail for murder. I’d say Beau and I can take an extended vacation if we want and come home on Election Day to accept the position.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of ‘we.’ Are you running in tandem for mayor?” The joke flopped.

Her face pinked up like a strawberry milkshake. The color stood out against the pale yellow of her suit. “Of course not. Beau will be mayor. I’ll be First Lady.” Her chin lifted high.

I snorted and left while her highness still glowed like my sunburn. Freud followed me back to the apartment and I left the milk for him on the sidewalk near the steps. Walking up to the top, only to come right back down, sounded too much like exercise. I planned to save my energy for stop number two on my morning visits.

The little pink tile roof came into view a few blocks later. Time to face Adrian. I cringed at the sight of Sheriff Murray’s cruiser parked at the curb. Climbing the steps to the front door, I hoped he was in his office blowing a gasket at someone else for a change. He wasn’t.

“Come to fill out those reports?” He leaned over the receptionist. She looked busy marking up a map of vendor placement for the upcoming auction.

“I hoped I could see Adrian.” I tried to make one of those puppy dog faces that get television women what they want.

“Is there something in your eye?” He stared back while I continued to rearrange my features to something sympathetic. When I didn’t speak, he turned back to the receptionist. “The ones near the marsh need to maintain a standard ten-foot clearance.”

She nodded.

Then, his eyes were back on me. “What’s in the bag?”

I blinked and looked at the bag, which I’d forgotten I was still carrying. I’d never asked what might be inside. “A file for cutting cell bars.”

His eye twitched. Whether from watching my face contort so long or simply from his proximity to me, I couldn’t be sure. “Ha.” The word, devoid of humor, confirmed the latter of my theories as true. Then he stuck his hand out, palm up.

I surrendered the bag, and he dug in forearm deep. As it turned out, the bag contents included one large cruller drenched in gooey icing. He held it to the light, poked at it, squeezed it then placed it back in the bag.

“Gross.”

He sucked on his poking finger. “What’s in the cup?”

“Jeez. Are you for real?”

His fingers opened and closed in the universal sign of “gimmee.” Unwilling to let him drink Adrian’s coffee, too, I removed the lid and tilted the cup slightly toward him. Steam lifted and spiraled into the air.

“Where’s your sidekick?”

I smiled and fought the urge to text and tell Sebastian that Sheriff Murray called him my sidekick. The receptionist smirked and turned her face away. I wasn’t sure what she found amusing, but my smile stretched wider in response.

“I’ll give you ten minutes.” He walked away.

The receptionist shooed me after him. I left the cruller on her desk. She pushed it into the trash with a quiet laugh. I suspected she and I might make great friends, but I needed to come back when the sheriff wasn’t around.

I followed the sheriff as he wound through a maze of cubicles and short hallways to the single holding cell inside the station. I’d been given the official tour after an incident senior year involving condom balloons and whipped cream. Sheriff Murray, a deputy then, had brought me in as the only suspect, but he never found any evidence against me beyond the fact that I taunted him on a regular and ongoing basis. If I’d known then he’d become sheriff one day and that I’d still live here, I might’ve rethought things.

“Patience!” Adrian ran to the bars and smiled. “I hoped you’d come. I know you’re blaming yourself. Please don’t. This isn’t what you think. When I heard you found a thread to pull in this case, I knew the whole thing against me would unravel. I called my attorney and then Sheriff Murray.”

“You turned yourself in?” I almost dropped his coffee.

“I shouldn’t have run to begin with.”

Sheriff Murray stepped away and watched us.

I tried to ignore him. “Mrs. Tucker sent you coffee.” I handed it through the bars to him and then turned to Sheriff Murray. “Can I at least go in and sit with him?”

He grunted.

“He fingered your cruller,” I informed Adrian.

“What?” Adrian’s nose wrinkled in confusion.

“Fine.” Sheriff Murray stepped forward and opened the door to let me pass. Then he pointed to a security camera in the corner of the room. “You have seven minutes left.”

The metal door banged shut, and he disappeared down the hallway.

I hugged Adrian tight to my chest. “That was really honorable of you to admit you were wrong for running. I’m glad you called the sheriff.”

“It’s not like he could apprehend me.”

“Right. Either you’re really good at hiding, or he’s really bad at finding.” On an island as small as ours, I couldn’t figure how Adrian had kept from being arrested. Unless the sheriff had a heart under all that attitude and didn’t want to bring him in. I doubted that was the case.

Adrian and I sat on a bench against the wall, and he wound one heavy arm over my shoulders. I shifted against his chest and exhaled long and deep. The room was depressing. No wonder his arm felt like lead across my shoulders. Gray concrete floors. Gray bars and walls inside the cell. Gray drywall outside the cell. Adrian sipped his coffee in silence. Time ticked by. The faint scent of fish threatened my composure. All the gray confinement reminded too much of the moments I spent under a pillowcase. Knowing the person Adrian rescued me from was still out there coiled my tummy.

“I found your secret passage.” I lifted away from his arm and smiled. Hank could probably patch up the opening after he fixed the rat door at the boathouse, although I hated the thought of letting anyone in on our secret.

I rolled my eyes. Adrian was the one who started the silly rumor about my building being haunted. He’d convinced our entire senior class and eventually the island got behind the story.

“When you used to work at the art studio downstairs, did your boss tell you about the passageway?” I asked.

“No. I found it on my own. I don’t think anyone knew it was there.”

“Who knew one day you’d be on the lam for murder? I guess your secret escape hatch comes in handy for a man in your position.” I bumped my shoulder into his.

“I didn’t kill Brady.”

“I know.”

“My attorney will get things straightened out.”

I looked into his pale gray eyes. His hurt and apprehension couldn’t be masked from me. We’d been too close once. Being deceived by him would be impossible, like being lied to by part of your own soul.

“I promise to bring you something from the Tasty Cream as often as possible. Maybe that will help during the wait for this to sort itself out. You’ll have something delicious to look forward to.” I squeezed my hand on his leg.

“Let’s go, Price.” Sheriff Murray’s voice boomed down the corridor. Keys rattled in his hand. Time was up. I kissed Adrian on the cheek and left before I gave the sheriff any reason to forbid my return.

Sheriff Murray eyed me. “What’s your problem? You look like you sucked a lemon.”

“It smells like fish in here.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed. The whole island smelled like fish to some degree.

“It smells like the pillowcase yanked over my head.” Tears welled in my eyes, surprising me. I cleared my throat and bit the inside of my cheek to get my emotions in check. “Your jail reminds me of the stinky pillowcase that psychopath used on me.” I spat the words, suddenly livid.

Find him!
My heart screamed. But with Adrian in custody, I had no doubt the “investigation” was over. I swiped a tear from my cheek and blew a puff of air into my bangs before storming off.

“Hey,” Adrian called after me. I turned back to see a glint of mischief in his eye. “Buy some sunscreen, would you?” He winked, and I left him behind in the saddest place I’d ever been.

Outside in the sun, free of the gray inside Adrian’s cell, hope floated up. I went straight to see my parents at The Purple Pony. I wanted to help Adrian. During the walk, thoughts swirled and mingled and mutated as I tried to figure out what I was missing. Some key piece of information either eluded me, or I had it and hadn’t realized how important it was yet.

Adrian seemed so small and helpless inside the holding cell. He trusted the system. Admirable. I wanted to trust the system, but the sheriff had never proved to be much of a sleuth in the past. I doubted that had changed since I graduated high school. With no crimes to investigate, he couldn’t have had much practice.

When I opened the door to The Pony, Dad greeted me like Dino from the Flintstones. His arms wrapped me tight. He arched his back and lifted me from the floor. I sucked air, stifling a scream.

“Put her down. She hardly comes to see us as it is.” Mom came to pat my back.

“Ah!”

They both stepped back and stared, wide-eyed, at my face. In unison they circled me. A whispered chorus of “Ooohs” and “Ahhs” followed until they arrived back in front of me.

“It’s worse than we thought.” Mom looked at Dad. “The bath didn’t do a thing.”

Dad disappeared and returned with his special water.

I accepted.

“You want to talk?”

“No. I need to think.”

“You want to go fishing?” Dad looked expectant. “Fishing always gives me clarity.”

Mom frowned. “We could knit? On the deck at home? Your father could watch the shop. Oh! Let me read your cards.”

“No. I don’t know what I want to do. Swim maybe. Swimming used to do wonders for my drama.”