Lantern Beach Mysteries Box Set

by Christy Barritt

  Ty blinked again but took a step closer, the start of a smile forming on his lips. “Mom . . . what a surprise. You’re here. From Texas.”

  As Cassidy’s attention fastened on the scene, she stripped off her stained shirt. The blue tank top underneath would be sufficient, and she couldn’t stand the thought of sporting urine any longer than necessary. Especially if she was about to meet Ty’s parents.

  Ty’s mom pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing and shaking and letting out sounds someone might use with a baby. Just as she released him, the man—his dad?—took his turn, squeezing Ty so hard that both of their faces turned red.

  Ty, who usually seemed so in charge and in control, appeared powerless, as if he was being swept along with the tide.

  Cassidy smiled as she watched the scene unfold. It was almost satisfying seeing Ty flustered. The change of pace was nice, especially considering his dog had just peed on her.

  Then the man and woman turned toward her with such over-exuberant expressions that Cassidy sucked in a breath and braced herself.

  “And you must be his new girlfriend!” Ty’s mom let out another squeal and pulled Cassidy into her arms.

  Cassidy started to protest, but she couldn’t get a word out. The woman’s hug smothered Cassidy nearly as much as her rose-scented fragrance.

  She glanced over Mrs. Chambers’ shoulder in time to see Ty mouth, “I’m so sorry.”

  Finally, his mom let go. Cassidy was about to explain she wasn’t Ty’s girlfriend when his dad twirled her around and pulled her into another bear hug.

  And here we go again.

  “We’re so glad to finally meet you,” his dad said.

  Finally, the surprise hug attack ended, and Cassidy gulped in a deep breath before launching into an explanation about who she was. She had to set the record straight. Pronto.

  “It’s nice to meet you, but I’m actually—”

  Before she could finish, Ty’s arm went around her waist, and he pulled her close—intimately close. “This is Cassidy.”

  What was he doing? What in the world was going on here? Mr. I-Hate-Liars was lying? Right?

  Her gut twisted at the conundrum.

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you!” His mom’s face absolutely glowed as her gaze bounced back and forth between the two of them. “You can call me Del, and this is Frank.”

  Del had a round face and dark brown hair cut to her chin. She was about forty pounds overweight, but the main thing Cassidy noticed was her bright smile.

  Frank had a broad build with the start of a paunch in his midsection. He hardly had any hair, and what he did have—mostly around the sides—was shaved short. He had Ty’s warm eyes and angular features.

  As they bent to greet Kujo, Ty leaned close—close enough that his breath tickled Cassidy’s ear. Close enough that his parents couldn’t see his lips move. “You owe me one, remember?”

  Cassidy did owe him. She’d also begged him to play along with her a few weeks ago when she needed a cover because someone from her past had arrived in town.

  But . . . But that had been different. Right? Yet—

  She released her breath—and tried to release her stubborn conviction.

  This was going to be painful, but Cassidy would swallow her pride. Ty had done it for her. But he better have a good explanation.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” she finally said.

  “What brings you out this way?” Ty asked, his arm still draped around Cassidy’s waist. “It’s quite the surprise.”

  His mom clapped. “That’s just what we wanted—to surprise you.”

  “Well, it worked.”

  “We missed you, and, since it’s summer, we decided to pack up and come visit for a week,” his dad said.

  Ty tensed beside her. “A week? Wow.”

  “Your father is retired now. We have all the time in the world to do whatever we want. Like come see you whenever we want!”

  This was getting more entertaining by the minute.

  “Let me help you bring your luggage upstairs,” Ty said. “You must be tired.”

  “We are,” Del said. “We haven’t pulled an all-nighter in quite a while.”

  “You drove all night?” Ty released his arm from around Cassidy and walked toward the station wagon.

  For some strange reason, Cassidy missed his touch. Missed the weight of his arm against her back. Missed the warmth coming from his body.

  Which was stupid.

  Cassidy helped Ty carry some suitcases upstairs. She’d hoped for a minute alone with him, but his parents had followed. As they trotted back downstairs to retrieve more bags—this time, groceries they’d brought with them—another car pulled up.

  It was a circus around here.

  To her surprise, Skye rushed out from the driver’s seat, tears flowing from her eyes. Her lithe body bent with distress as the wind swept her long dark hair into her face, making it collide with her wet cheeks.

  Cassidy’s heart thumped into her throat. Something was seriously wrong.

  “Ty, I need your help.” Skye flipped her hair from her face, revealing eyes full of agony and worry.

  “What’s going on?” Ty stepped closer, his shoulder muscles visibly tightening.

  “I was arguing with a man, and now he’s disappeared, and the police think foul play may be involved.” She stopped long enough to suck in a deep breath of air. “And they think I might somehow be a part of it. Please, help!”

  Chapter 2

  Cassidy’s pulse throbbed as she waited to hear more. It took every ounce of her self-control not to snap into cop mode. Instead, she tried to appear laid-back and easygoing, just like her ice cream-selling persona required.

  Ty squeezed Skye’s arm and lowered his voice. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”

  Skye pinched the skin between her eyes and lowered her head—classic signs of distress. The gypsy-spirited beach lover never seemed stressed, so something must be seriously wrong.

  “I’ve been arguing with that new produce stand owner in town,” Skye started. “He set up right across the street from me, and he’s stealing my business.”

  Cassidy had noticed the new guy while she was on her ice cream route and had thought it was dirty to set up so close to Skye’s van stand, as she called it. Her friend had crafted her storefront out of an old hippie van and added a pergola.

  “I mean, I know they say competition is good for business, but not on an island this size.” Skye’s voice sounded thin and cracked with every other word. “We had some pretty heated discussions.”

  Cassidy waited, anxious to hear where this was going.

  “Anyway, he sent a spy over to check out my inventory, and then he priced everything at least twenty-five cents lower,” Skye said. “Bower Wilson told me about it. He overheard them while he was fishing down at the inlet. Anyway, I went to his house to confront Buddy Macklemore—that’s the name of the owner. When I got to his place, I knocked, and the door opened. There was blood inside. The police just happened to show up while I was standing there, and they assumed I had something to do with it.”

  Ty squinted. “Was there a body?”

  Skye swung her head back and forth. “No, there wasn’t. But something . . . something . . . violent happened there. I just know it.” A sob escaped her.

  “It doesn’t sound like the police have enough to hold you,” Cassidy said, quickly reminding herself to act like a novice. “I mean, from what I understand about police investigations, which is hardly anything, obviously.”

  “They don’t. Not yet. But they’re searching for Buddy and advised me not to leave town.” Another sob escaped from Skye. “What am I going to do?”

  Cassidy and Ty exchanged a glance.

  “We’ll help you get through this.” Ty wrapped an arm around Skye’s shoulders. “Let’s not assume the worst. It’s like Cassidy said—it doesn’t sound like there’s enough to hold you.”

  She sniffled. “I just have a bad
feeling about this.”

  “What do you need us to do?” Ty asked.

  Skye shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m afraid Chief Bozo is going to arrest me. Even I think I look guilty.”

  His name was really Chief Bozeman, but a lot of people called him Chief Bozoman or Chief Bozo behind his back. He’d rightfully earned the nickname and reputation on pure incompetence.

  “Again, until they find a body, you should be okay,” Cassidy said. “I mean, I think. Sue Grafton says that’s the way it works.”

  She inwardly cringed. She so much wanted to lend her expertise, but she couldn’t give people a clue about her prior life. It was too dangerous, too risky, and entirely frustrating.

  “She’s right,” Ty said. “I don’t think they can charge you with anything right now.”

  “Maybe Mac has some information he would share,” Cassidy said.

  Mac Macarthur was the former police chief here in town, and he’d become both a friend and an entertaining commentator on life in Lantern Beach. He and Cassidy often chatted over lunch at the Crazy Chefette.

  “That’s a great idea,” Ty said.

  “I can go talk to him.” Cassidy was anxious to get away from whatever madness had ensued upon Ty’s life. On the other hand, she really wanted to talk to Ty and discover what this story was. Later.

  “I’ll go with you.” Ty nodded, as if the decision had been made.

  “But your family . . .” Cassidy said, remembering Del and Frank upstairs.

  “They’re exhausted from their all-night drive and want to get some rest. I’ll talk to them to confirm, but they should be okay.”

  “What about me?” Skye looked back and forth from Ty to Cassidy.

  “The best thing you can do is lie low,” Ty said. “Stay far away from whatever’s happening.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t even work today. There’s a storm coming in.”

  Cassidy knew the feeling. She couldn’t either. It was a good thing her one and only employee—Skye’s niece Serena—was up in Michigan to be a bridesmaid in a wedding. At least she wouldn’t feel guilty about not having any money to pay her part-time employee.

  “Why don’t you stay at my place?” Cassidy said. “No one will find you there, so it will give you the chance to collect your thoughts.”

  Why had Cassidy offered that? Having someone in her cottage was a terrible idea. What if Skye got nosy and found her hidden stash of guns?

  No, Cassidy had been careful. There was no other evidence of her past life at the cottage.

  Skye’s eyes lit. “Could I? That would be great.”

  “Will you be okay by yourself?” Ty asked.

  “I’ll call Lisa and see if she can leave the restaurant for a while. If she can’t, I’ll call Austin. Certainly, someone’s available.”

  “They’ll make the time for you, Skye.” Ty nodded toward the stairs. “Let me go talk to my folks. I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as Ty stepped away, Cassidy turned to Skye, grateful for a moment alone with her. Ty was far too observant, too smart. She couldn’t let the man figure out her secrets, and she always felt like he was on the verge of doing just that.

  “Tell me more about this guy whose house you went to—starting with where he was staying and how you knew his location,” Cassidy said.

  Skye sucked in a shaky breath and turned away from another smattering of wind-driven sand. “His name is Buddy Macklemore. He’s from New York. He was staying on Sea Oat Drive in one of those big houses on the ocean.”

  “Two questions. First, how did you know where he’s staying?”

  Skye’s cheeks turned red. “I followed him one day. But it’s not like it sounds. I just wanted to know where he was in case I ever needed to talk to him.”

  Not like it sounds? Cassidy hoped that was true because it sounded like Skye had it out for him. Cassidy didn’t say that aloud, though.

  “Second question: how can he afford to stay in a house like that?” According to Skye, she barely made enough money selling produce to stay in her 1970s RV at the local campground. A large house like that didn’t fit with the facts.

  “I have no idea. Certainly, his fruit and vegetable stand wasn’t that profitable. However, he had all the bells and whistles at his place. That nice sign and the custom building. It just didn’t add up to me. I mean, if you already have money, why start a business like this here in town?”

  “That’s a great question.” A produce stand on an island with seasonal tourism wasn’t a recipe for success and sudden wealth.

  “From what I can tell, he didn’t have any family. At least they weren’t here with him. He was one of those boisterous guys, the kind who are great salesmen. The locals would still buy from me—I had their loyalty. But the vacationers? Of course, they’re going to gravitate toward a place that looks more together than my hippie van.”

  As if to state her agreement, Elsa—the ice cream truck—began playing “Apples and Bananas.”

  Cassidy sighed. That truck seemed to have a mind of her own—and it was always at the worst possible time.

  Ten minutes later, Ty and Cassidy left. Ty had quickly secured the items on her deck before they departed, insisting she would regret it later if they didn’t.

  They bounced down the road in his truck. Ty had finally gotten his own vehicle back, and it was a beauty—a 1958 Chevy 3100 with a V-8 engine. He’d kept the original teal color and chrome accessories. Cassidy had fallen in love at first sight—with the truck, not with Ty.

  As she gazed out the window at the gray skies around them, Cassidy desperately wanted to ask why Ty had lied to his parents. He must have a good reason. But those questions would have to wait. They had more pressing concerns right now.

  Important things come first. More wisdom left behind by Lucy.

  “Skye seems pretty shaken,” Cassidy started.

  “I can’t blame her. It’s not every day people see stuff like that. I know I’ll never forget the things I saw while deployed.”

  He didn’t talk about his time as a Navy SEAL very often, but Cassidy was curious about his time overseas. Something life-changing—maybe many things—had happened, but she had no idea what.

  “There are some things you see that become a part of you.”

  Ty stole a glance at her. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  She shrugged, realizing she was treading in dangerous waters. “You can say that.”

  “Does it go back to that incident with flakka?”

  Cassidy had told Ty she’d been abducted by DH-7, injected with the drug, and that she’d awakened with a lightning tattoo—DH-7’s trademark. The story had strains of truth to it, so Cassidy had gone with it.

  She nodded, not faking the heaviness that washed over her. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

  Her words were true. She’d been a detective for five years, but those two months undercover superseded all her other experiences. It was a darkness in her life that she feared would never fade.

  She thought she’d feel satisfaction in her role at breaking the gang apart. Instead, she only felt emptier at the scope of evil she’d seen. Evil she didn’t know was possible.

  And that bothered her.

  Ty pulled to a stop in front of Mac’s house. It was just down the street. Of course, on an island this size, everything was just down the street.

  Unless you wanted to leave the island.

  There were no bridges to the mainland—only ferries, and you needed an abundance of patience when following their pre-set schedule. It was part of the reason Cassidy had come here. It was secluded—and safe.

  Well, mostly safe. Supposedly.

  Just as they stepped out of Ty’s truck, a loud boom sounded nearby. They glanced at each other.

  “That didn’t sound good,” Ty said, concern etched on his features.

  They both darted into his backyard to find Mac leaning over something that looked like a . . . bomb.

  Chapter
3

  Cassidy’s heart raced as she stopped in her tracks, unwilling to move any closer. “Mac, maybe you shouldn’t do that . . .”

  He glanced up and smiled, his friendly face glowing. “Cassidy! Great to see you here. You too, Ty.”

  He continued to fiddle with some wires, a floppy olive-colored hat covering his fair skin and white hair.

  “Mac, what are you doing?” Tension still stained Ty’s voice as he stared at the scene in front of him.

  He waved his hand in the air. “I’m just practicing defusing a bomb. Gotta keep my skills up-to-date.”

  That was Mac for you. Cassidy had seen him rappelling down the side of his house already. But a bomb?

  “Is that a good idea?” Cassidy wondered how she could step in and defuse this situation—and maybe the bomb as well.

  “Well, it’s not a real bomb. Of course.”

  Ty shifted. “What was that boom we heard?”

  “Sound effect.” A smile tugged at Mac’s lips as he glanced up. “They help keep me on my toes. I put the effects on a timer, but I never look at the countdown. So it goes off, and the sound surprises even me.”

  Brilliant on his part. Scary for anyone who didn’t know what was going on.

  Mac stood and brushed the sand from his knees. “I suppose you’re not here to talk about this.”

  Cassidy shook her head, remembering the reason they’d come. Skye’s tear-stained face flashed through her mind. “We need your help.”

  His eyes brightened. “I always like to help. What’s going on?”

  He abandoned his bomb and stepped toward them, slipping into the shade and out of the sun, which volleyed in and out of the clouds as the storm continued to whisk closer.

  “Someone is missing,” Ty said. “There’s blood all over his rental house, and our friend is apparently a suspect.”

  “Not sure what I can do. Sorry for your friend, though. Why does Bozoman suspect her?”

  “She was at the house when the police arrived,” Cassidy said. “They’d been arguing, so they think she has motive.”