by Lena Gregory
Ellie stiffened, and Cass froze and remained where she was.
“Positive,” Ellie sobbed.
“All right.” What could she do? Ask around and see if anyone else had seen him, for sure. “Have you called the police?”
Ellie’s eyes went wide and she stared at Cass as if she’d gone crazy.
“Ellie, if he’s back on Bay Island, you have to contact the police.” They’d arrest him the instant anyone laid eyes on him, but first they had to find him.
Ellie’s head whipped back and forth before Cass had even finished her sentence. “Not happening.”
“Okay. Just let me think for a minute.”
“Sorry, Cass. I shouldn’t have involved you. I have to get out of here. As much a Jay hates you, if he finds me here, well . . . it wouldn’t be good.” She hurried across the shop and paused at the back door, then sobbed. “Of course, you’re not the only Bay Island resident Jay has a major grudge against. So, I pretty much can’t talk to anyone.”
She had to stall, had to gain control of the situation, had to calm Ellie. And she had about two seconds to accomplish it all. “When did you start seeing him?”
“I don’t remember. Maybe a few weeks ago?”
“Where?” She had to get answers quickly, before Ellie bolted.
“All over.”
“And what did you do?”
“What do you think I did? I ran home, called out sick for the rest of the week, and dyed my hair back to its original color. Then, this morning, I went back to work. I thought maybe I overreacted, you know?”
Cass nodded, afraid Ellie would clam up if she interrupted.
“But then, I saw him at the shop, or rather, outside the shop, right after you left.”
Cass’s heart broke for her. It hadn’t been easy for Ellie to come out of her shell, to go to work full-time, to put her life back together after losing everything she knew. “Please, Ellie. Just sit down and give me a few minutes to figure this out.”
“I’m sorry, Cass. I can’t. If he catches me here, it won’t go well for either of us. Don’t forget, he hates you even more than he hates me. Anyway, mostly I guess I just wanted to warn you.” She shook her head then unlocked the door and rushed out the way she’d come in.
Cass looked after her, helpless to stop her, not sure what she could do to help. She grabbed her cell phone and started to dial Luke’s number. If Ellie wouldn’t contact the police, then Cass would have to do it herself. But what if Ellie was wrong? Cass hadn’t seen Jay or anyone else hanging around when she’d visited Ellie at the shop. The entire area had been pretty much deserted, except for the farmer driving the tractor.
She put the cell phone down atop the stack of paper on the table. Leaving the paper and pencils where they were, Cass got her crystal ball from the side counter. While the color readings seemed to relax her clients, and even her, the crystal ball allowed her to focus better. She put it on the table, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and chugged down half of it. She locked the back door and gave a quick look around to make sure Jay wasn’t lurking outside somewhere.
Tourists packed the beach as far as she could see, their scattered beach tents and umbrellas impeding her view. Where on earth was Bee?
Beast scrambled to his feet and trotted to her side. He tilted his head and watched her. Was he tuned in to her change of mood? Or did he think they were going for a walk because she’d stood at the back door so long? Probably the latter, but you never knew. Dogs followed their instincts more readily than humans.
She checked the front door lock, scanned the boardwalk for any sign of Jay, then returned to the table and centered the crystal ball in front of her.
Her mind reeled, jumping around from thoughts of Ellie to Jay. The art thefts Luke and Tank were investigating made so much more sense now. She would definitely have to call them sooner rather than later, but there was one thing she had to try first.
The sense of impending doom that had been plaguing her all week returned with a vengeance. Instead of ignoring it, though, Cass latched on to it, embraced it, searching her heart for what was troubling her so badly. If Ellie was right, and Jay really had returned to Bay Island, it was more important than ever that she figure out what was going on.
The thought of seeking guidance from a spirit brought both terror and awe. She gazed into the crystal ball, her focus fully absorbed in its distorted depths. She concentrated, bringing the woman’s voice she’d been hearing into her mind.
Blackness filled the orb’s center, only a small swirl at first, as it had been within the fire agate, then the dark patch expanded. The churning mass solidified into a shape, a silhouette of a woman. No discernible features marked the blackness.
“Help him.”
Cass tried to latch on to the voice, to the woman’s image, but both eluded her, slipping away every time she tried to grasp them like sand pouring through her fingers. “I will help, if you tell me what I need to do.”
“He needs you.”
“Who does? Emmett?”
“Help him.”
Features started to emerge within the ball, colors. Blond hair billowed and whipped behind the woman, as if caught in a ferocious windstorm. Blue eyes, magnified by the crystal’s distortion, pleaded for help.
Cass tried to connect, tried to reach out. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Find him.”
Find whom? Jay? There didn’t seem to be much sense in asking the vision. Their communication seemed to be totally one-sided.
“Find him.”
The blackness started to fade, returning to its former abstract, contorting form. Cass tried to hold on, concentrated harder. Drops of blood splattered against the table. Still, she held on. The flow of blood from her nose increased.
“Find him. Help him,” the shape repeated in Cass’s mind as it receded.
“No. Wait. Please. I don’t know—”
Pounding on the front door ripped her from the vision.
Chapter Thirteen
Beast’s deep bark echoed through the shop.
Cass shook her head. Her eyes fluttered open and closed. Had she fallen asleep? Dozed off while looking into the crystal ball? Dreamed of the woman? Would she recognize the unfamiliar face if she saw the woman somewhere? Probably, though she couldn’t be sure.
Something hammered against the front door.
She jumped up and grabbed a handful of tissues to stop the flow of blood from her nose.
Beast scrambled toward the door, his paws slipping on the hard wood as he throttled himself forward.
Bee’s face filled the front window, his hands cupped around his eyes as he tried to see inside.
Pinching her nose with the wad of tissues, Cass opened the door for him.
He barreled through the door like a hurricane. “You’ll never guess who’s back on Bay Island!”
When Beast started to pounce, a warning glare from Bee stopped him dead in his tracks, and he settled for bouncing up and down until Bee petted his head.
“Good boy, Beast. See, all you have to do is say hello nicely, and you get pet. Sorry, I didn’t bring any food today. Maybe I’ll bring you something special later.”
Beast barked once, then dropped his tongue out the side of his mouth.
“Now, back to the matter at hand. You’ll never guess who’s back on Bay Island.” Bee resumed his trek across the shop but stopped short next to the base of the case Aiden’s thugs had knocked over, then whirled toward her as he started to speak. “What happened to the ca— Oh, dear, what happened to you?”
“I’m fine, Bee.”
He rushed toward her. As soon as he reached her, he smoothed her hair away from her face and studied her eyes. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing.” She waved it off. “Just a nosebleed.”
Bee stared at her from the corner of his eyes. “Cass?”
“I’ll explain later, and as for who’s back on Bay Island, I already heard.”
“What? Seriously?” Bee grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and slumped into the chair. “I didn’t even wait in line for the sodas after I heard, just rushed right over to tell you. How’d you hear already?”
Cass felt a little bad. Bee loved being the first to share gossip, and she hadn’t meant to steal his thunder. She’d just been overwhelmed by everything. The suffocating heat wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry, Bee. Ellie came in for a reading, and she told me.”
“What does Ellie have to do with it?” Bee frowned. “And how in the world did Ellie find out before me?”
“She said she’s seen him on and off for a while now, that he’s been stalking her.” Although Cass hated to admit it, she’d been leaning toward the theory Ellie hadn’t actually seen Jay. She was kind of relieved Bee had corroborated her story.
“Wait.” Bee sat up straighter and set his water aside. “Why would he be stalking Ellie? What are you talking about?”
“Jay.”
Bee’s mouth dropped open. “What! Jay Callahan’s back on Bay Island?”
Uh-oh. She hadn’t meant to let the cat out of the bag, had been sure Bee already knew or she never would have betrayed Ellie’s confidence. “Isn’t that who you were talking about?”
“No!” He paused and studied his hands for a moment. “But that would explain the drastic change in Ellie over the past week or so.”
“Bee, you can’t say anything, please. She told me that in confidence during a reading.”
“Of course, I won’t repeat it.” An instant of hurt flashed across his face but then disappeared just as quickly, and he held his hand up. “Scout’s honor.”
“Thanks, Bee.”
As much as Bee loved to gossip, he’d never betray her trust. If she specifically asked him, or if he knew it would come back to haunt her in some way, he usually kept his mouth shut. But speaking of gossip . . . “If not Jay Callahan, who were you talking about being back?”
“Oh, right.” He settled more comfortably in his seat with all the drama he could muster now that he once again had a captive audience.
Used to his theatrics, and knowing interrupting would only prolong the drama, Cass waited. She didn’t bother to unlock the back door—she’d be closing soon anyway—she just took a seat at the table across from Bee.
“So . . .” He cleared his throat and took another sip of water. For Bee, gossip was an art form. “I walked into the deli to pick up our sodas.”
Cass nodded. “Thank you.”
“Well, don’t thank me, because I never did get the soda. But, anyway, Emma was waiting by the door when I walked in. She must have seen me pull up out front and hurried to meet me. According to her, Bruce Brinkman showed up to get lunch earlier today on his way to see Stanley Roth, the attorney handling Dirk’s will.”
“Sooo? Who’s Bruce Brinkman?” She could only assume he was some relation to Dirk.
“Seriously, Cass?” Bee massaged the bridge of his nose. “What am I going to do with you? Bruce Brinkman is Dirk’s son. The two haven’t spoken in years, supposedly had some kind of falling out a while back, a huge battle, by all accounts. The two hated each other. Bruce left Bay Island after a massive blowout and hasn’t been back since.”
“That’s not unusual, Bee. His father passed away, and fight or not, he would have been notified and asked to see to the final arrangements and all that.” Just as she’d returned to see to her parents’ final wishes not that long ago. The memory still brought a pang of grief. No matter how many years passed, it probably always would.
“Well, you see, that’s the thing.” He paused, watching her to be sure he had her full attention. Apparently satisfied that he did, he continued. “He didn’t come in on this morning’s ferry. He came in last night. Hours before Dirk was killed.”
Cass’s mind raced. While she had to admit his appearance was quite a coincidence, she didn’t know what it had to do with the current situation. If Bruce Brinkman had shown up to bury the hatchet and reconcile with his father, she could only hope he’d had the chance before Dirk had been killed.
Bee watched her expectantly, obviously waiting for some reaction.
“I don’t understand. Did he and Dirk fight again?”
“Ugh . . . Really, Cass?” He blew out a breath and shoved his chair back. “Clearly you aren’t thinking rationally. I guess you needed that caffeine more than I realized.”
“What are you talking about, Bee?”
He started the coffeepot, then returned to the table and plopped down. He rolled his hand, urging her to put together the pieces he’d obviously already connected.
She curbed her impatience. Everyone knew Bee had a flare for the dramatic. Besides, he was making her coffee, so, at the end of the day, let him have his fun. “Look, Bee, I realize there’s something you think I’m missing, but I’ve had a long day, and I’m exhausted, so you’re going to have to at least give me a hint.”
“Oh, fine.” He slid forward and folded his arms on the table. “I’ll give you a little nudge. Think about it. Don’t you find it just a little odd that Bruce Brinkman, who according to all accounts hated his old man with a passion, just happened to show up on Bay Island after a years-long hiatus just hours before Dirk was found dead?”
“Oh, come on, Bee.” As much as she’d like to cling to the idea Bruce had come to Bay Island and killed Dirk, clearing Emmett of any suspicion, she couldn’t make it work in her mind. Of course, there was always the possibility his rage had festered over the years, but still . . . “What reason could Bruce have had to come back here after so many years and kill his father? If he was going to kill Dirk, it makes more sense he’d have done it in the heat of passion during the blowout you were talking about, not years later.”
Bee leaned back in the chair with his arms folded across his chest and pouted. “Well, I still find it suspicious.”
“I guess. I’m not completely disagreeing; I just think he’d have needed new motivation to return.” Since he clearly wasn’t going to get up and get the coffee, and she was running on fumes, she got up, grabbed two mugs, and started to fill them. “What would he have to gain by killing him?”
“Millions.”
“Huh?” Cass whirled toward Bee, spilling coffee across the counter.
“I said millions. Turns out Dirk Brinkman was worth a fortune.” He settled in with a smug look on his face and fanned himself with the stack of papers she’d left on the table from Ellie’s reading. “You really do need to get this a/c fixed.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Now he was starting to get on her nerves. She set the coffeepot back on the burner, grabbed a couple of dishrags, and started mopping up the spill.
He lifted a brow.
She finished cleaning up, wiped the mugs, then filled them, determined to wait him out. They both knew how badly he was aching to dish. She set his mug in front of him, sat across from him, and pinned him with a glare.
Bee crossed one leg over the other, lifted his mug, and blew delicately on his coffee.
Oh, fine! “Please, elaborate.”
“Truth be told, I can’t believe I’ve missed this until now,” he blurted. Setting the mug on the table without taking a sip, he scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Supposedly, Dirk Brinkman was worth millions when he died. Family money, which everyone says was a lot more before he squandered it, spoiling himself after he gained ten times that amount when his parents were killed.”
Though that was probably an inflated estimate, Cass had a hard time wrapping her head around Brinkman being wealthy. He just didn’t come across that way. But hadn’t Grace said the same thing about Dirk being spoiled? “Killed, how?”
Bee waved his hand. “A car accident. Tragic, but definitely an accident. They slid off an icy mountain road while on vacation, leaving their only son their vast fortune. He was an adult at the time but had no interest in taking over his father’s business or adding to the family wealth, so he sold it, all of it, everything the old man owned except
for a small rental house. He lived in that.”
A flicker of sympathy Cass wouldn’t have thought possible for the man who’d ridiculed and embarrassed her in public and possibly helped destroy her reputation tugged at her. Dirk had spent his whole life spoiled and indulged to the point of being unable to accept he couldn’t have everything he wanted. No wonder he’d obsessed over Tanya. She was probably the first person to ever say no to him.
“So . . .” Bee waggled his bushy eyebrows, giving the impression of two caterpillars jumping up and down on his forehead. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”
“I’ll tell you what; let me take care of Beast and lock up. We’ll talk over dinner.”
Bee sulked. “Okay, I can totally see how annoying that is now.”
Despite her exhaustion, she laughed. “I’m not being difficult, Bee. I promise. I’m just exhausted, I’ve had a rough day, and I want to go sit somewhere, have a good meal, and spend some time with friends. We’ll talk about everything. Cross my heart. I’ll tell you about Jay and Aiden’s brother and his thugs. Everything.”
That tidbit prodded him into motion, and he jumped out of the chair. “Oh, fine. I told Stephanie I’d pick her up for dinner. Do you want me to swing back and get you, or do you want to meet us there?”
Either way, she’d have to come back to the shop for Beast. May as well let Bee drive. “Pick me up. I’ll be ready by the time you get back.”
“Sure thing.” He shot her a two-finger salute and hurried out the door.
She shook her head and locked the door behind him. No matter how much of a character Bee was, she could always count on him. “Come on, Beast, want to eat?”
Beast ran to the spot in the back room where she always fed him and started spinning in circles, the click, click, click of his nails against the wood floors echoing through the shop.
She laughed as she started to fill his food and water bowls.
The closer it got to her putting the bowls down, the faster Beast spun.