Gaffe Out Loud

by Christy Barritt

  “What do you think?” I asked Jackson as we walked down the hallway in the hospital.

  “I think we need to talk to some people at the hotel and look at some security footage.”

  “Do you think Michael is guilty?”

  Jackson’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t the kind to throw out theories unless he was fairly confident they were correct. “I have no idea. We don’t have very many other leads right now. And the means of death does fit a jealous lover.”

  I glanced at Jackson, soaking in just how handsome he was. Nothing was as attractive as manly confidence, and Jackson oozed it. “Are you going to the hotel now?”

  “Of course. You want to come?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Five minutes later we pulled up to the Sea Gull Inn. Despite the name, it was a fairly nice establishment located on the oceanfront. I hoped that would work to our advantage. The nicer the place, the more likely they’d have security footage.

  Jackson talked to a woman at the front desk, flashed his badge, and then we were directed to the security office. A black man sat at a desk there with multiple screens in front of him. After Jackson explained things, the man pulled up the footage from the day Michael had mentioned.

  “Right there.” Jackson pointed at the screen. “There’s Michael.”

  We watched as Michael walked down a hallway and paused in front of room 371. He lingered outside the door. Paced. Paced some more—obviously uptight and anxious.

  Fast forward an hour, security came and escorted him away.

  “Why was he asked to leave the premises?” Jackson asked.

  “Someone reported he was making them uncomfortable because he was just lingering in the hallway.”

  “No idea who did that?”

  The guard shook his head. “Just another guest. When we discovered he wasn’t staying here, we asked him to leave. He didn’t want to, so we had to walk him out. That’s not entirely unusual. People try to sneak inside from the beach and use our facilities more often than you’d think.”

  “Can you rewind to a little earlier? I want to see who went into that room first,” Jackson said.

  “Of course.” The security guard did as Jackson asked.

  I sucked in a breath when I saw a living and breathing Desiree there.

  She looked so alive with a bright smile and hopeful eyes.

  And now that was all over.

  In the blink of an eye, Desiree was gone, as were her dreams.

  Life could change so quickly.

  She knocked at the door. Waited.

  A moment later, a man answered. I barely caught sight of his blond hair and thin, short build. But I definitely saw the huge grin that lit his face when he saw her.

  She stepped inside his room—but not before the camera caught the man’s arms going around her waist.

  I couldn’t be certain, based on the angle of where Michael was standing, if he would have seen that. The camera was on the wall, closer to the room than Michael was, so he could have just seen Desiree step inside. He may not have seen the embrace she shared with another man.

  By all appearances, Desiree was cheating on Michael with this man.

  And, if she’d been hanging out so much on my deck, how did she even have time to meet this guy? And what was his name?

  It just didn’t make sense.

  I figured this was about the painting. That was the only thing that had made sense. Until now.

  “We need to find out who this guy is,” Jackson said.

  “I’m sure the clerk at the front desk can help,” the guard said.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jackson had to go into the station to meet with the chief. Before he’d dropped me off at my place, I had learned that the man at the hotel who’d met with Desiree was named Gordon Haynes. He’d checked out of the Sea Gull Inn yesterday, and the information he’d given the clerk indicated he was from New Jersey.

  Jackson and one of his colleagues would try to track him down today.

  But right now, as I stood on my deck, I felt desperate to do something else to keep investigative momentum going. Before I could think too hard, Sam called.

  “How are you?” I asked. “Making out okay with Zane?”

  “Yeah, we’re doing just fine. I really like feeling like I’m a local. We might even try surfing sometime.”

  “I’m glad it’s working out. Thanks for understanding.”

  “Yeah, I totally get it. I didn’t mean to make things awkward for you. That’s really the only reason I decided to call. To let you know I’m good. And maybe to set up a time to rehearse later.”

  “We can do that. But can you give me a day?” Maybe I wouldn’t be so preoccupied with this case by then.

  “Sure thing. That actually works out better for me too.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, I met this girl today.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Did you?”

  “I know. Isn’t that crazy? I just went in to grab some lunch and there she was. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m going to try and get to know her a little better.”

  “Best of luck with that.”

  “Thanks. Wouldn’t that be crazy if we both found love here on this island?”

  “It would be.” Interesting. Maybe the best way for him to get over his heartbreak was by meeting someone to distract him.

  Just like I liked to distract myself from my own problems by focusing on things that were none of my business.

  Like Desiree.

  Desiree obviously had secrets. What kind of trouble could she have gotten into, though? She was only in town for three days. And how was this Gordon guy connected with what had happened?

  Before I could dwell on it too long, arguing from next door floated through the air like a bad stench coming from a bathroom.

  Those two could really go at it, couldn’t they? The good news was that I hadn’t heard Adam pushing Annie around, nor had I heard threats. No, it was just arguing. And the more I listened, the more I realized that Annie seemed to be giving it right back to Adam. While I didn’t think they had a healthy marriage, at least I didn’t think either was in danger.

  But they were certainly a strange couple.

  Just then, Adam stormed from the house, slammed the door, and stomped down the stairs.

  I knew I shouldn’t do it. I shouldn’t.

  But, despite that, I found myself following him. Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was curiosity.

  I wanted to know what was going on with this family. Where did Adam go every time he stormed away? Was it always to pick up wine and make up?

  Since I had nothing better to do, I’d decided to follow him.

  Quickly, I climbed into my car, started the ignition, and pulled out behind Adam. I kept a safe distance behind him as he headed down Beach Road. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to a beachfront house in the neighboring town of Kill Devil Hills.

  Interesting. Not at all what I’d expected him to do.

  The road was packed with tourists, so I couldn’t stop to study what he was doing without causing an accident. Instead, I found a public parking area, left my car there, and started toward the sandy sidewalk that stretched along one side of the road.

  I was going to have to play it cool if I didn’t want to be caught here. It wouldn’t be hard since it was the middle of the day and tons of people were out, either headed to the beach, headed to shop, or headed to eat at one of the many restaurants in the vicinity.

  If I’d had more time, I would have donned a hat and sunglasses, maybe even a frumpy beach coverup or something. But instead I had on my favorite jean shorts and a tank.

  My gaze went to a store across the street. It was a typical tourist trap that sold cheap T-shirts and boogie boards. But it would be the perfect location for me to keep an eye on the house and figure out what Adam was up to.

  As soon as traffic cleared, I rushed across the
street. But, instead of stepping inside the shop, I stopped behind a display of inflatable rafts on the front deck. I pretended to look at them while actually staring at the house Adam had gone to.

  The place was charming with white siding and a roof that featured lots of angles. It was one of the newer houses on the street, if I had to guess.

  Adam had disappeared inside—I hadn’t seen him go to the door, though. I could assume someone else was there because there was a sedan in the driveway.

  Just what was he doing here?

  “Are you Joey Darling?” someone said beside me. “I’m a huge fan!”

  I tried to smile politely at the blonde college-aged girl before quickly turning my gaze back to the house across the street. “I am.”

  She rambled on about all her favorite episodes of Relentless. As she did, I tuned her out. I had no choice.

  Because I saw movement in the upstairs window.

  I saw Adam standing there.

  I saw a woman walk toward him.

  Then they kissed.

  My mouth dropped open.

  What? Adam was cheating on Annie? I knew they had an awful marriage. I also knew they’d been in town for a while. But long enough for all this to develop?

  This turn of events had me floored.

  “So, what do you say?” the woman beside me asked.

  I glanced over at my biggest fan. “What was that?”

  “Will you sign me?” She held out her forearm.

  “Um . . . of course.” I took the pen from her and scrawled my name there. I’d been asked to do weirder things. “It was so nice to meet you.”

  “You too!” With a slight squeal, she joined her family by the door.

  I smiled at them before turning back toward the house. Something strange caught my eye.

  Someone wandered the back of the property.

  I squinted as I tried to figure out what was going on.

  Was that . . . Annie?

  It sure looked like it.

  She’d followed her husband too, hadn’t she? Had she suspected this?

  It seemed like a sad way to live out a marriage. A very sad way. And even though my curiosity had been satisfied, I felt anything but satisfied. Maybe I had hoped for a happy ending for the couple. Maybe I’d hoped that between the arguing, they were actually in love.

  But I could clearly see that wasn’t the case.

  This was just one more marriage that was on the rocks.

  I watched as Annie snapped a picture on her phone.

  She was gathering proof of Adam’s affair. Was she planning to leave him? Would she use this as evidence of his indiscretions when or if they went to court?

  It made sense to me. But a whole new level of ugliness had been revealed in their relationship.

  Before I could leave my covert operation spot behind the rubber rafts, my phone buzzed. I looked down to see a text message from Phoebe.

  Can u come to Oh Buoy? Now?

  That sounded urgent, so I texted her back that I’d be there in ten.

  There was nothing else I could do here—not unless I wanted to insert myself into this marriage. And I didn’t. I already knew too much.

  Instead, I pulled up to Oh Buoy. Phoebe spotted me from her place behind the counter, muttered something to her manager, and then met me at the front.

  “Let’s go to my car,” she said.

  As we climbed into her Jeep, my anxiety grew. What was so important that she had to speak now and with privacy?

  I didn’t know, but I already didn’t like it. This wasn’t like Phoebe. She wasn’t the needy or urgent type. Nope, she took everything in stride.

  So this had to be serious.

  Instead of saying anything, Phoebe pulled out her phone and thrust it into my hands. “Did you see this?”

  I took the device from her and gasped when I saw the picture there.

  It was a photo of me. With Sam. Our noses practically touched. I wore a PJ set, and we sat on my couch. The National Instigator magazine headline read, “Joey Darling and Sam Butler Now an Item.”

  Man, did this magazine hate me.

  Or love me.

  It was a fine line when it came to rag mags like this.

  “Who could have taken this picture?” I muttered.

  Phoebe frowned as she took her phone back. “I have no idea. But a customer in Oh Buoy was talking about it. As soon as I heard, I knew I had to tell you.”

  My thoughts raced ahead to the implications this image might have. “Has Jackson seen it?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  A mental image of the photo fluttered through my mind. “It looks like Sam and I are dating in this picture, Phoebe.”

  She frowned again and touched the end of her braided hair. “I know. You two look very happy.”

  “But we’re not!”

  She palmed the air. “I know that. Sam must know that. But America might now think otherwise.”

  I hung my head, feeling an ache forming at my temples. Seriously, why would someone do this? “I can’t believe this. It’s so intrusive.”

  “I know you said you and Jackson had a rough week. I wanted to tell you in person—just in case you needed me.”

  I offered a weak smile at my friend “I appreciate that, Phoebe. I’m going to have to do some damage control.”

  “Maybe Jackson should hear this from you first.” She studied me, waiting for my reaction.

  She had a point.

  “Yeah, he probably should.” I mean, he was a rational man. But with everything that had happened . . . would this test the limits of our relationship? It very well could. “There’s more, Phoebe.”

  She shifted. “What’s going on?”

  I told her about the movie offer. About how it would take me away for probably a year when I combined it with filming for Relentless.

  “Sounds like an amazing opportunity,” Phoebe said.

  “But I’m not sure I can live in both worlds, Phoebe. I’m not sure I can have my cake and eat it too—whatever that means. You know what I’m saying, though, right?”

  “That Jackson’s life is here and your career will take you away from here?” She said the words softly and with compassion.

  I nodded somberly. “Exactly. I don’t want to go back to the rat race, but I do want to act.”

  “I don’t know what to say except that I’ll pray for wisdom for you.” She frowned compassionately. “It sounds like a good problem to have, at least.”

  I shrugged. “I suppose. Thanks for listening.”

  “No problem.” She let silence fall between us for a minute before changing the subject. “By the way, Sam came in here yesterday.”

  “Did he?”

  “Yes, he was very nice. We chatted for quite a while.”

  My eyes widened. Sam had told me he’d met someone yesterday. Was he talking about . . . Phoebe? “Did you?”

  “Yeah, he came in after working out at the gym. He sat at the bar and we just started talking. He . . . he seemed really great, Joey.”

  “He’s a really nice guy.”

  Phoebe nodded slowly, almost looking like she wanted to ask more. Instead she said, “I’ve got to get back in to work. Are you sure you’re good?”

  Hesitantly, I nodded, even though I felt anything but okay. No, I actually felt like someone was intent on destroying my life. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I’m going to find out if Jackson really does trust me or not, though.”

  “Be patient with him. This is new territory for him also. Don’t forget that.”

  I nodded, said goodbye, and climbed back into my own car.

  I hadn’t taken off yet when my phone buzzed again. Was it Phoebe? Had she forgotten to tell me something? Was more bad news awaiting?

  But it wasn’t Phoebe.

  No, it was something much worse than the picture that had shown up in the online tabloid.

  It was a photo of me and Sam. This time we were in bathing suits. On the beach. Lip-locked
.

  But this photo had never happened. No, someone had altered it.

  And if I didn’t pay this person ten thousand dollars, it was going public.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  While I sat there in the parking lot in my car, I tried to call Jackson.

  He didn’t answer.

  Was he avoiding me? Or was he on a case and unable to answer? Meeting with the chief still?

  I had no idea. But my mind went to the worst places. Places where Jackson had seen the photo and somehow thought I was guilty.

  All of my insecurities started to rise to the surface. What if Jackson really didn’t trust me? What if our relationship was so fragile right now that this was the tipping point? What if this made Jackson realize that being involved with an actress was not the life for him?

  My phone rang, and I sucked in a breath. Was it Jackson?

  But when I glanced at the screen, Zane’s name appeared.

  My shoulders slumped along with my hope.

  Still, I answered. “Hey, Zane. What’s going on?”

  “Hey, Joey. Sam and I are at Willie Wahoo’s. Want to come and meet us?”

  “At Willie Wahoo’s?” I repeated. I couldn’t think of anything else I’d rather not do.

  “I know it’s not your favorite place, but I told Sam he had to try their wings.”

  It sounded like Zane and Sam had bonded. That didn’t really surprise me. They were both the life of the party.

  I briefly considered my options. Brood alone over what was going on? Or meet with Zane and Sam and distract myself?

  Several minutes later, I was sitting with Zane and Sam. I decided to skip the wings and I ate some carrot sticks instead. Everything was loud around me—the music on the overhead, the people who talked, even the sound of Zane eating tortilla chips.

  And even though there was no smoking inside, somehow it still seemed smoky in here. Maybe one of the cooks had burned something in the kitchen.

  “So what’s going on?” I asked the two of them.

  I was right. The two of them looked like longtime friends. And they apparently even had inside jokes because all Zane had to say was the word “Frogger” and Sam burst into laughter.