Well, that advice was unexpected. Ty was full of surprises, wasn’t he? First the ice cream cone and now this wisdom. But Cassidy wasn’t ready to admit that to him yet. “I’m not so sure about that. Sometimes going solo is the best option.”
A frown flickered across his face. “Try serving in Afghanistan for two years. That will change your mind.”
Without saying anything else, he climbed back into his truck, slammed the door, and drove away.
Chapter 14
So Ty was a veteran. Cassidy shouldn’t be surprised. He carried himself with a military-like demeanor.
And his words had certainly put her in her place. She knew from being a detective how important teamwork was, how three or four putting their heads together worked more effectively than just one person. She just hadn’t wanted to give Ty the satisfaction of hearing her admit it.
As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. Yes, it was another Bible verse from her Day-at-a-Glance. Truthfully, those were some of her favorites.
Cassidy put those thoughts aside—for now. Instead, she waited until Ty was gone before focusing on the sole reason she’d come here. She needed to see if any boats looked like they were missing a piece. She would be subtle. Ditzy. Unassuming.
As much as she might want to get involved in this mystery, that wasn’t what Cassidy was doing right now. She was simply trying to be a good citizen. After she found out this information, she would go back to her boring life as an ice cream woman.
Finding answers here was a long shot. She knew that. But she needed to know whether or not this was the evidence the police had been looking for. Otherwise, she’d only appear foolish coming forward with the information on the washed-up debris.
Of course, it was like Ty had said. There were other boats here on the island, she reminded herself. Some were parked—docked—at slips that bumped up near bulkheads and houses. Others could have been pulled ashore and stowed away in garages and under houses. For all she knew, the boat’s owner could have scooted back up north toward Hatteras or Ocracoke.
That wasn’t going to deter her. Cassidy was going to do what she could to find some answers. It was what any good citizen would do and had nothing to do with the fact that she was a detective.
One other fact remained in her mind. Even if she did find the mystery boat, that didn’t mean that boat was connected with Sarge’s murder. All of this could be a coincidence, but her gut told her it was worth looking into.
She parked her bike near a post, wishing she had a chain to tie it up with. But she was on Lantern Beach. Did people here really steal bikes? She supposed someone here had committed murder, so nothing was off the table.
With a touch of hesitancy, she left her two-wheeled transportation and began strolling down the docks. A lot of men were going out fishing, but there were also families gathering for deep-sea expeditions together.
There was already talk of big fish and even bigger fish. The marina around her smelled like sea life, and Cassidy was pretty sure some fresh fish guts were frying in the sun on various planks of wood at her feet.
She surveyed the boats as she walked. There were all kinds, from huge ones that would probably hold twenty people to smaller vessels that would hold only a few. She tried to study them without making it obvious what she was doing. Her sunglasses helped slightly but obviously not enough.
“You looking to charter a boat?” a man asked her, walking down from one of the piers with a bucket in his hands.
He was probably in his forties, with sun-kissed skin, and a faded blue hat and T-shirt advertising a beer company was his outfit of choice.
“I don’t think so.” She paused on the dock and pushed her sunglasses up higher. “I’m just being nosy. I’m from Texas. A landlocked town. This is a whole new experience for me.”
“I thought your boyfriend had a boat?”
She cringed, quickly backtracking. “He did. It was a long-distance relationship, and it didn’t last terribly long.”
“You want to go for a boat ride? You really need to experience the Graveyard of the Atlantic while you’re here.”
She’d already had her fill of graveyards. “Thanks, but that’s okay.”
“I wasn’t trying to be smarmy. I was just asking. Since you’re curious and all.”
Cassidy just wasn’t sure about the vibe she was getting from this guy. But maybe she could use his friendliness to get some answers.
And, as a side note, it was incredibly interesting how many more guys hit on her when she had long blonde hair, wore shorts, and didn’t have a badge. She’d picked up on those currents earlier, but with every passing minute, that theory was only confirmed.
Speaking of being blonde . . . she needed to play into that stereotype. Act a little scatterbrained. No one would suspect of her being Commotio Cordis if she played her cards right.
“How hard is it to break one of these?” She nodded toward a mid-sized boat.
“How hard is it to break a boat?” he chuckled. “That’s an interesting question.”
“My ex once claimed he split the bow on his boat, and he couldn’t take me out.”
The man pulled his lips upward in a contemplative expression. “Well, sweetheart. That would be hard to do, but not impossible.”
She slid her hands into her back pockets. “He said it happened in a storm. He ran into a dock or something.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could occur, but these things are built to last. Must have been some storm.”
She raised her shoulders before launching into her next question. “Where do you even take a boat when something like that happens?”
“There are repair shops.”
She leaned against a piling and kept her voice perky. “Really? I had no idea. Are there actually some here on the island?”
She hated how clueless she sounded. She was acting like everything she hated and every stereotype she’d fought against as a woman struggling to make it in a man’s world. Being on the police force had proven that to her more times than not.
“There are some repair shops on the island. A couple for that matter. Jason’s is right down the street, and the other one is Dock Landing. It’s on the other side of the island.”
“Well, this has been very enlightening. Thank you. I’m so glad I ran into someone as knowledgeable as you.”
He beamed. “Anytime. You sure you don’t want a ride? I could teach you a lot.”
She wanted to sock the man in the jaw. Instead, she smiled sweetly. “Oh, I’m good. I’ve got to get to work soon anyway.”
“Where do you work?”
“I sell ice cream.”
His eyes widened, and his smile slipped. “You took over Elsa?”
“I did.”
“Interesting.” He took a step back toward his boat.
Cassidy tilted her head, wondering why people kept having such a strange reaction. “Why do you say that?”
He shrugged, grabbing the hose at his feet. “No reason. I’ve got to get back to work too. Have fun.”
There was some kind of story with Elsa, and Cassidy wanted to figure out what it was. But she couldn’t do it now. Right now, she had other things on her mind than that annoying ice cream truck.
At least Cassidy had some direction.
She kept walking along the wooden boardwalk, looking out over the boats like a curious, wide-eyed tourist.
There were names on the sides of some of them, which only strengthened her suspicion that the mysterious letters AN were part of the boat’s name.
However, the boat that belonged to that piece of debris that had washed ashore wasn’t here.
Maybe it was at one of the repair shops.
When Cassidy reached the end of the boardwalk area, she turned and walked back to her bike. It was time to get back to her house and pick up Elsa.
Maybe she’d look for that mysterious black sedan again on her route today. But it wasn’t because she was investigating. It was only because she
was curious and kind of bored.
At least, that’s what she would tell herself.
Ty pounded another hammer into the doorframe. He’d told Austin he would help him with a construction job he was doing at the lighthouse. The place had been shut down for thirty years, and the insides smelled like it. The interior was musty and dank with only a wisp of gray light coming through the small windows of the lightkeeper’s quarters.
But at one time, this place must have been a sight to behold. Back when this was a barren island with only a hundred or so people living here. Back when there were no electronic devices to tell ship captains how close land was. Back when the ocean used to claim hundreds of boats right here in this area.
The lighthouse was located on a piece of land that jutted into the Atlantic. At high tide, sometimes the waves would crash on both sides of the structure. It was a striking sight and breathtaking to be inside when it happened.
When Ty had come to the island as a kid, his cousin always tried to talk him into sneaking out and breaking in. He’d given in—once. They’d come here after dark when no one could see. It hadn’t been hard to get past the old door. Using their flashlights, they’d climbed up the rusty spiral staircase to the top of the tower.
Looking back, it was a good thing the staircase had held them. Someone could have gotten seriously hurt. But at sixteen, he didn’t think about those things. He thought about adventure, and spreading his wings, and pushing the limits. He’d channeled that into something worthwhile and joined the military right out of high school.
“How’s it going?” Austin came back inside and dropped some more wood on the concrete floor beneath them. They were working on securing the structure first, starting with the doors and windows.
“Slow but steady.”
Austin grabbed a piece of wood and began helping. “So your new neighbor is pretty cute.”
Ty scowled. He’d figured the subject would come up. Women were one of Austin’s favorite subjects.
It wasn’t that he was a womanizer either. He always said he simply had a healthy appreciation for the opposite sex. Everyone around here thought Austin was a confirmed bachelor.
“I guess,” Ty finally said.
Austin chuckled. “You guess?”
“I have things on my mind other than pretty neighbors.”
“So you did notice . . .” Austin smiled. “I’m just saying . . . it couldn’t hurt you to get out and start dating again.”
Ty stopped working for long enough to stare incredulously at Austin. “You’re giving me dating advice?”
“Advice is such a strong word.” Austin flashed a rakish smile before hammering another nail. “Moving on . . . Did I tell you I came out here last night?”
“Did you? Why?”
“I left my nail gun. Last time I did that, it started to rust.”
“Okay . . .” There had to be more to this story.
“There were some guys out here on the shore. They pulled up in a boat.”
“Something shady going on?” Ty suspected there were things going on out in these waters. He’d seen the strange activity at night when he took Kujo out for walks.
“Seemed weird, you know? I heard a rumor.”
“What kind of rumor?” Ty paused from hammering.
“Heard someone is in town selling that new drug.”
“What new drug?” He didn’t like the sound of this.
“What’s it called? Flakka.”
Ty lowered his hammer. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s some crazy stuff. I heard the police are looking into some drug deals, though. Trying to catch the guys involved.”
“Who’d you hear that from?”
“It was the scuttlebutt on the construction scene.”
Ty sighed. He knew the scene. Most of the workers were also surfers . . . surfers who, after a great day of surfing, like to have a great night by getting high.
“If you hear anything else, let me know. I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Will do.”
Something weird was going on in this town . . . and Ty needed to stop it before it took root.
Chapter 15
As Cassidy continued on her route, she finished the turkey wrap she’d brought with her for lunch and afterwards treated herself to a choco taco. Where had these things been for her whole life? They were delicious.
If she wasn’t careful, she might end up eating the rest of her inventory of them.
Even though Cassidy had managed to sell one hundred fifty dollars’ worth of ice cream, her mind had remained elsewhere. She kept thinking about that dead body. About Diane’s tears. About that piece of boat she’d found.
And even though her logical side told her to stay away, all Cassidy wanted to do was dive in. Investigating—and finding justice—was what she did best. It was what consumed her thoughts and got her out of bed every morning. Yet now she’d been relegated to selling ice cream.
You’re in a prime position to act as neighborhood watch.
That was what Mac had said. Could he be right? It made sense. She had a daily scope of everything happening on the island.
With a new sense of determination, Cassidy gripped the steering wheel. She wouldn’t investigate, per se, but she would keep her eyes open for anything suspicious. She’d start by keeping her eyes open for that black sedan and the man who’d been driving it. So far she’d had no luck in finding it.
She purposefully waited to go down Diane’s street until she saw a car parked at the end of the lane. Cassidy secretly hoped to talk to the distressed wife and find out if there were any updates since she’d last spoken to the woman.
Cassidy slowed near the end of the lane. The kids were outside playing again, and there was a silhouette of someone upstairs on the screened-in porch. Was it Diane?
As the kids ran for the truck, Cassidy slowed to a stop and leaned out the window. “Hey, guys. How are you today?”
“We want ice cream!”
“Ice cream!”
“You scream, I scream, we all scream for ice cream!”
A chorus of cheers filled the air.
Just as Cassidy served her last ice cream sandwich, Diane appeared. Her eyes were still red and puffy. The tears obviously hadn’t stopped coming.
The poor woman.
However, what if her husband really was guilty? It would be wise to keep that question in mind. Phil’s guilt wouldn’t diminish Diane’s grief and pain—nor would it diminish Cassidy’s desire to help the woman—but the fact remained either way.
“I’m sorry that my kids are bothering you,” Diane started over the overly cheerful music playing overhead. “My Wild Irish Rose” was the selection of the moment.
“Not at all.”
“I tell you what—raising them is much more work than the high-stress job I held before they were born.”
“What did you do?”
“I worked in cyber security, but that seems like another lifetime ago.” She reached into her pocket. “Anyway, how much do I owe you?”
Cassidy hesitated a moment before rattling off the amount, and Diane pulled out some cash. Cassidy didn’t really care about the money, but she knew that Diane would insist on paying.
Cassidy’s gaze went beyond Diane to the children happily chasing each other in the background. Kids really were resilient, weren’t they? She almost envied them for a minute.
Cassidy started to reach for change when Diane waved a hand in the air. “No, really. Keep the change. Either way, I’m going to be bankrupt soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve hired a lawyer.” Diane glanced in the distance, her voice weak with stress. “The bank will probably take back our house, but if that’s what we have to do to get these charges against Phil dropped, then that’s what we have to do.”
There was something that seemed inherently wrong about an innocent person having to give up everything just to prove they were innocent. “He’s that expensive, h
uh?”
“Unfortunately. But I can’t see my husband go to jail for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“Any updates?” Cassidy shifted in her seat, turning to better face Diane.
“No, not yet. Phil’s still locked up, and they’re still saying he’s the one who shot Sarge.” A single tear escaped down her cheek.
“Did I hear the CEO of the company is putting up a reward for information on the real killer?” It seemed like a potential bright spot in the situation.
“Yes, he did. But Walter always likes to put on a good front. He doesn’t want this to look bad for his company. That’s really what this is about—saving himself.”
That wasn’t entirely surprising. Cassidy had grown up in a world where image was king and where failure was never an option. “I understand. Is Walter still on the island?”
“He is. He’s staying until the end of the week.”
“How about the other family?” Cassidy tried to sound casual, something she wasn’t great at doing.
“The Metts are staying also. I’m not sure if it’s for me—they haven’t talked to me much. Or if it’s because they’ve already paid for the house and this isn’t exactly covered by traveler’s insurance.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be going through.” Cassidy could sympathize with how alone Diane felt while going through a hard situation. She felt the same way. Maybe that’s why this case touched a nerve with her.
“It’s been very difficult.”
Cassidy rubbed her lips together as she contemplated her next question. “Is there anyone you can think of who’d want this Sarge guy dead?”
“No, not that I can think of—and believe me, I’ve thought about it.”
“And he didn’t have any family here with him?”
Diane shook her head. “No, he was single. Divorced actually. Divorced twice, for that matter.”
“What are they saying your husband’s motive was?” Cassidy continued, knowing she was on the verge of sounding like anything but an ice cream lady. She needed to tread carefully.
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