Tide and Punishment

by Bree Baker

  Grady’s expression softened slightly. “No. He and Denise are at Olivia’s.” He glanced at the women beside me before fixing his gaze back on me. “I was worried about you.”

  “Me?” Shock set me on my feet. I moved in close to his side. “Something else happened?” I guessed.

  He gave a stiff nod in affirmation. “Mayor Dunfree’s phone came online about thirty minutes ago. The lab called and I’ve been tracking it.”

  I set my plate of untouched food on the empty seat beside Fran. Victory crackled over my skin. Dunfree’s cell phone was the key to everything. I could feel it in my bones, and now we had it in our reach. “Let’s go,” I said, “Where is it?”

  Grady’s hard gray gaze slid from my face to Aunt Fran’s. “Here.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I tensed as the weight of his statement settled over me.

  Mayor Dunfree’s formerly missing phone had come online, and it was here. Which could only mean one thing: the killer was here also. With us. Enjoying my aunts’ tasty soups and salads as if he or she hadn’t brutally murdered a man only a few days ago.

  “How do we know who has it?” I whispered to Grady, craning my neck for a better look at his phone screen. There were at least fifty people filling the quaint little shop. “Can you tell which direction the signal is coming from?” I lifted onto my tiptoes and scanned the room for signs of Mary Grace, Chairman Vanders, or Gene Birkhouse.

  Grady drew his brows together and shook his head. “It’s not a metal detector. The tracking service uses GPS coordinates. The phone is in this building. That’s all I know.”

  “So, how do we find it?” I asked. “We can’t exactly pat everyone down.” Personal space violations aside, mandatory police pat downs had to be an invasion of rights.

  Grady scanned the smattering of jolly faces. Some guests browsed the displays. Others stood around rented tables. All had food in hand and appeared perfectly at ease. He checked his watch. “I don’t have time to pat them all down.”

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he’d truly considered that an option. “Maybe we can disguise the search as a game,” I suggested. “We can ask them to unload their pockets for some reason. Pretend we snuck something into one guest’s possession and the one who has it wins a prize.”

  Grady continued to watch the group, likely seeing more than I could, despite our identical views. “Whoever has Mayor Dunfree’s phone won’t reveal it willingly.”

  “So, we’re back to the pat downs?” I asked.

  Grady gave a soft laugh. “No.”

  “Why do you think the killer powered the phone on now?” I asked. “After three days and during a party?”

  Grady walked away, shoulders square. He had a plan.

  Thank goodness. Only eight minutes before folks would leave for their next destination.

  Grady climbed onto an empty chair beside the buffet station arranged across the room. He swiped a fork and glass from the buffet on his way up, then tapped them together. “Can I have your attention?” Authority boomed from the words, sharpening the request to a demand.

  The room quieted.

  Grady tapped his phone’s screen and waited. Calling the mayor’s phone, I realized, waiting for it to ring. But there was only the tense silence of a group wondering what the good detective wanted.

  “For any of you who don’t know me, I’m Detective Grady Hays,” he said finally. “It has come to my attention that someone here has something I’m looking for. Something that will help me with the investigation of your mayor’s recent murder.”

  Whispers rolled through the crowd. Faces pinched in distaste. I didn’t blame them for the sour response. They’d managed to put the ugliest part of the week aside and focus on the Holiday Shuffle, a treasured annual tradition. Now, less than two hours in, the local fuzz was disrupting their night with talk of a murder. It was an understandably unwelcomed return to reality.

  Grady raised his palms apologetically, though I suspected it was also to regain their silence and attention. “I know I’m wrecking your night, and I’m sorry for that, but there’s a family in this town that is grieving, and they want the truth. They want justice and closure. I think you can all support that.”

  “What do you want us to do?” A man’s unfamiliar voice rose from the crowd and was quickly accompanied by others offering words of support and compliance.

  Grady motioned me forward. “I’d like you all to show Everly or me your cell phone before you leave tonight. We have about five minutes until everyone heads off to enjoy the main course, so we’ll make this quick. We don’t need to touch the phones or see anything personal. We just want to see you unlock the phone and open a personalized app of your choice. Email. Photos. Social media. Anything that says, this is your phone.”

  The crowd murmured and shifted. Those on the fringes moved closer to Grady as I reached his side. Guests dug into their pockets and handbags, willingly producing cell phones, e-readers, and tablets.

  “Just cell phones,” Grady said. “If you have more than one on you, I’d like to see them both.”

  A man I recognized as a local construction company owner inched toward the door.

  I nudged Grady with my elbow, but he was already trailing the man with his eyes.

  My heart rate doubled. Was he the killer? Why? Had the former mayor done something to make him snap? Was it building code related? Something else?

  Grady stepped off his chair and moved toward the door. “Excuse me,” he said softly, setting a hand on my shoulder as he passed.

  I stayed on task, watching as my neighbors and friends unlocked their phones and showed me photos of their families and pets. “Thank you. I appreciate your help. Merry Christmas,” I told folks one by one.

  The man opened the shop door to escape, and Grady followed.

  Aunt Clara took up position at my side, packing to-go containers of soup and salad from the buffet, then offering them to every person I cleared to leave.

  My gaze traveled to the door on repeat. Had Grady followed a killer into the night?

  Aunt Clara caught my eye with a curious stare. She had no idea what was happening, I realized. She’d simply found a use for herself and jumped in to help.

  Across the room, the chairs where Aunt Fran and Janie had been were empty, and I didn’t see either of them in the thinning crowd. A bead of panic lifted in my tightening chest. Were Aunt Fran and Janie okay?

  “Is that it?” The elderly woman before me asked. The tiny screen of her ancient flip phone glowed up at me. “I don’t know what you mean about unlocking it. I just pull it apart and it opens like this.” She flipped the device open the shut a few times in demonstration. “I’ve never bought a lock for it.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

  She tucked the phone in her bag and moved on to collect her to-go box from Aunt Clara.

  Grady returned several minutes later and joined me in assessing the final few phones.

  Aunt Fran flipped the dead bolt and lodged her fists in the curves of her narrow waist as the last guest moved into the night. “Well, what now?”

  Grady tented his brows. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Aunt Clara, Janie, and I showed our phones to Grady. Aunt Fran did the same.

  “What happened with the man who took off?” I asked. Clearly Grady hadn’t made an arrest or he wouldn’t need to see our phones. “Did you lose him?”

  “No.” Grady returned our phones with an audible exhale. “I caught him before he reached his truck. He ran because he had two phones on him and only knew the password to one of them. He said he took his kid’s phone earlier this week for breaking curfew. The kid’s a senior in high school, and he didn’t know the password.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That was it? Why’d he run? Why not just tell us that story when it was his turn in line
?”

  Grady raised a weary gaze to Aunt Fran. “He said if people are willing to believe Fran Swan is a killer, then they wouldn’t hesitate to see his second cell phone as evidence he was involved too. An accusation like that would ruin his business, so he tried to slip out unnoticed.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, “but if you couldn’t unlock the phone, then how can you be sure it wasn’t Mayor Dunfree’s?”

  Grady smiled. “The lock screen’s background is a photo of the man and his son on a fishing boat this summer.”

  “Aww,” I said.

  Grady nodded. “Yeah. I think seeing the picture made the guy rethink his kid’s punishment. He was choked up when he got into his truck, saying what a good kid he has, and how much he’s going to miss him when he graduates in May. He was already accepted to a school in Miami.” Grady’s prideful expression suggested he’d put himself in that man’s shoes. One day too soon, little Denver would grow up and leave too.

  “The guests have all left and no one had the phone,” I said, a new problem registering. “How’s that possible?” Did somebody lie to us? “Could one of the guests have shown us their personal cell phone, then walked back out the door with Mayor Dunfree’s device?”

  My question fostered the return of Grady’s unreadable cop face. “According to GPS tracking, Mayor Dunfree’s phone is still here.”

  I gave a long, slow blink as he turned his phone to face me. The little red blip on his screen hadn’t moved. “It’s somewhere in the store? Hidden?”

  Grady slid the phone into his pocket. “That, or someone got spooked and left it behind. We can dust it for prints when we find it. I’ll need a list of everyone who was here tonight in case the phone’s been wiped clean.”

  “So, this is good,” I said. The plan had worked! Grady asked to see everyone’s cell phones, and they’d complied. No pat downs required. Unfortunately, I realized, having the phone turn up in Aunt Fran’s store didn’t exactly help her case.

  “Let’s split up,” I said. “We’ve got to find this thing.”

  My aunts, Janie, and I headed in four different directions.

  “Remember,” Grady called after us. “If you find it, don’t touch it.”

  A sharp whistle stopped me short several minutes later. Grady appeared at the stockroom door. “Fran?” he said. “Can I see you for a moment?”

  Aunt Fran cast her gaze to her sister, then me and Janie. “Sure.”

  The four of us converged on him, moving in from our separate directions. We formed a line, shoulder to shoulder, before Grady.

  I wet my lips, terrified of what he’d found. “Is it the cell phone?” I asked, hoping it was nothing more gruesome. No more gnomes, I begged the universe.

  “Come with me,” he said, moving back through the stockroom door.

  We followed.

  He stopped before a set of cabinets along the far wall. The two nearest him had been personalized. Each with one of my aunts’ names on it. Beside them, a pint-sized version of the cabinets sat on a cubby. The small one had my name on it. The cabinet on the other side of mine was Grandma’s.

  Grady snapped a blue latex glove over one hand and reached into the already open cabinet marked FRAN. He pulled a cell phone from the pocket of a smock inside her locker.

  My eyes widened, and the trio beside me gasped.

  I turned to see color drain from Aunt Fran’s face.

  “That’s not Mayor Dunfree’s phone,” she said. “I found that in the store earlier today and set it aside. I assumed whoever had forgotten it would be back. I was so busy after that, preparing for the party and then having it, I forgot the phone was here.”

  Grady pressed the speaker button on his cell phone and made a call.

  The four of us were silent with anticipation.

  The phone from Aunt Fran’s locker began to ring.

  “You have reached Dudley Dunfree,” the voice recording stated. “Please leave a brief message and I’ll return your call.”

  My stomach sank and my head lightened. There must’ve been too much noise for it to be heard from the party before. Standing in the quiet stockroom, my ears began to ring.

  Grady turned regretful eyes on Aunt Fran. “You found it, so I’m guessing your prints are on it?”

  She covered her mouth with both hands and nodded.

  He shot me a pointed look, then turned his full attention back to Aunt Fran. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come with me to the station.”

  “No!” I yelled, throwing my arms wide and jumping between them. “That phone was obviously planted here by someone who knew Blessed Bee was hosting part of the Holiday Shuffle. They wanted it to be found in her possession.”

  “Everly,” Grady warned. “Don’t.”

  “How can I not?” I pleaded. “She didn’t hurt Mayor Dunfree, and you know it.”

  Pain flickered in his eyes. “Fran? Shall we.”

  My vision blurred with unshed tears. “Don’t go,” I told her. “Please.”

  Aunt Fran kissed my cheek, then stepped around me. “It’s fine. I’ll go.”

  “No!” I tried again, but she moved to Grady’s side. “He would take anyone else in at this point, and I can’t be given special treatment or the town will get the wrong idea. They’re still giving me the benefit of the doubt, and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

  My head swam. I chased them through the store and clutched Grady’s arm. “The phone is going to help her, right?” I asked. “Tech services will find something on it to clear her name so you can release her.”

  Grady didn’t answer.

  “You’ll know who Mayor Dunfree was heard arguing with that night,” I said. “You’ll know who’d been calling him. Everyone he’d been in contact with. You can listen to the messages and see if there are any angry ones. Maybe someone was harassing him. Maybe that crazy neighbor, or Mary Grace, or Chairman Vanders had been giving him trouble.” I sucked in a ragged desperate breath and tightened my grip on Grady’s arm. “What about the widow? Why’s she in such a rush to arrest Aunt Fran? There could be a big insurance policy, or maybe they had a nasty lover’s quarrel.”

  Grady stopped moving. “Give us a minute?” he asked Aunt Fran.

  She stepped away to hug her sister and Janie.

  Grady turned to me, a storm of emotion in his eyes.

  “Please don’t do this,” I begged. “I can’t lose her. It’s Christmas!”

  Grady’s heartbroken expression sent shocks of pain through my chest. He rested his palms on my shoulders and bowed his head to mine, creating a little space just for us. “The red paint in the back matches the paint used at multiple recent crime scenes,” he said quietly. “I can’t ignore what’s right in front of me, Everly. Not anymore. Not if I want to be respected in this town.”

  “Something else is going on,” I said, emotion erasing the last of my composure. “I saw that same color paint inside the Dunfrees’ neighbor’s house too. It’s just paint. Not a smoking gun. At least talk to Gene Birkhouse before you arrest Aunt Fran. Please.”

  Grady’s jaw locked and his spine stiffened. He dropped his hands from my shoulders. “Why were you inside Gene Birkhouse’s place?”

  I pursed my lips and squared my shoulders. “You know why.”

  Color spread slowly over his face, changing his expression from compassionate to a little angry. “Leave this alone. Understand? Do not test me.”

  I released his sleeve and crossed my arms, defiance lifting my chin.

  “This thing is escalating, and I can’t have you in the middle of it,” he said softly. “I can’t see you hurt again.”

  Electricity zipped and zinged through the air between us. Heat spread through my chest, crawled up my neck, and flooded my cheeks. My arms fell limply to my sides.

  “Do you understand what I
’m saying?” he asked softly. The protective edge in his voice was new and intense, and it softened my heart.

  I nodded dumbly. The familiar tug of instinct in my gut said there was a deeper meaning to his words. It said that Grady couldn’t see me hurt again because he cared about me. Not because I was a citizen he’d sworn to protect or because I was a friend he’d grown to trust. But because he cared. The proof was right there in the cutting edge of his voice, the rigidity of his stance, and the fire in his steely eyes. Grady cared for me.

  And it knocked the breath from my lungs.

  “Don’t worry, Fran,” Janie said as Aunt Fran moved back in our direction. “I’ll get you a lawyer. You’ll be out before breakfast. This is all circumstantial.”

  I worked to swallow the lump in my throat and regain my wits. Not easy given the circumstances. I wanted to know if I was right about Grady and his feelings for me, though it wouldn’t matter if he arrested my aunt for murder. Especially given the fact he knew she was innocent.

  Grady dragged his gaze from mine, then turned to escort Aunt Fran out the door.

  I wished more than anything that Janie was right, but the evidence against Aunt Fran was stacking up fast. She was going to need a Christmas miracle to escape the web being woven around her. I just hoped I could summon one of those before it was too late.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Aunt Clara, Janie, and I were left alone to process what had happened. Aunt Clara wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and sniffled. “I suppose it’s time to clean this up.”

  I recognized the simple eyelet hankie from my childhood. Aunt Clara’s initials were embroidered in one corner, a gift from her one true love. She didn’t speak of him often, and I couldn’t recall his name, but he’d been drafted into the Vietnam War immediately following their engagement. He hadn’t returned. Another alleged casualty of the Swan curse.

  “Let me help,” I said, moving to her side and beginning the teardown process.

  Janie swept into view, coat on and cell phone in hand. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m going to find a lawyer.”