Flaw-Abiding Citizen (The Worst Detective Ever Book 6)

by Christy Barritt

  Jackson had texted me too. Of course.

  Jackson: Whatever they’re planning is happening soon.

  Me: Get any info off the CD-ROM?

  Jackson: I know that you can’t trust anyone.

  Me: Not even you?

  Jackson: Joey, where are you?

  I sucked in a quick breath, wishing that all of this had never played out between us. Finally, I typed back, I can’t tell you.

  He wrote back immediately: I don’t think you realize what’s at stake here.

  Me: I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me.

  Jackson: Will you please tell me where you are?

  Me: I can’t.

  Jackson: Joey . . . let me go with you. Please.

  Me: I can’t. I’m sorry.

  I turned my phone off before I could read any more of his messages. My heart wanted to sway me one way and my logic the other. In the end, it just left me feeling torn apart.

  “Where do we start?” Zane asked as we drove down a lonely stretch of beach road.

  “I guess we need to find a grocery or convenience store. How many could there be here on this island? It’s pretty small.”

  “Let’s see what we can find.”

  I parked in a community lot, and we went the rest of the way on foot.

  Zane was a fairly faithful companion. And he was fun. He was always fun.

  But Jackson made me feel safe and protected. And I missed that right now. I was shivering deep down inside. Partly with excitement at the possibility of finding my dad.

  But the other part of me realized that this could be a setup. What if someone wanted me to come here? What if I was walking into a trap? I had terrible instincts about these things.

  “You okay with doing this?” Zane slowed his steps along the sidewalk that brimmed with pedestrians, people on bikes, and families with strollers.

  “I have a million thoughts racing through my head.” My dad. Jackson. Zane. Operation Make Waves.

  That wasn’t even to mention the annoying reminders. Things like the way my wrists ached and were bandaged, making them look like I’d tried to slit them. I’d worn a long-sleeve tunic to cover the gauze there. Wouldn’t that make a great headline?

  “I’m sure you do. Let’s see if we can put some of those questions to rest.”

  We stepped into the first store we came to: Swanner’s Market. I wandered the aisles, looking for something that would match the picture I’d seen.

  Finally, I stopped in the cracker and snack section and sucked in a breath. I pulled up the picture on my phone and held the device in the air. “This is it, Zane. This is where the picture was taken.”

  He compared the photo on my phone to reality and nodded his affirmation.

  “That was easier than I thought.”

  “But we’ve only just begun,” I muttered, trying not to get too excited. “Let’s talk to the cashier.”

  I approached the fifty-something man there and offered my friendliest smile. I found my dad’s picture on my phone, the one I’d posted online. I showed it to the clerk.

  “I’m looking for this man,” I said. “Have you see him?”

  He took my phone, slipped on some reading glasses from a string around his neck, and studied the picture.

  “Sure, I know him. That’s Phil.” He spoke with what was called a High Tider accent. Some of these islands had been so untouched for so long that the original dialect of the English who’d settled here remained in the locals. It was fascinating, but this wasn’t the time to revel in that.

  My heart raced a beat. “Phil? Can you tell me any more about him?”

  He studied me a minute. “I’m not in the habit of giving out information about people here. How do I know you’re not a killer?”

  “Does she look like a killer?” Zane squeezed closer to me. “She’s just a girl looking for someone who’s very important to her.”

  Zane had a way of charming people in ways that perplexed me. But I wasn’t going to complain about the method right now because it appeared his mysterious ways were working. The man shrugged, seeming to relax a bit.

  The clerk looked at me, studied me more. “No, she doesn’t look like a killer.”

  “I’m not,” I chirped. “I promise.”

  I raised two fingers in a Boy Scout pledge.

  “It’s three,” Zane whispered.

  I quickly corrected.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I guess I can say this: he comes in here every Wednesday at nine to get a week’s supply of groceries. If you’re looking for him, maybe you can catch him then.”

  “Thank you.” My heart hammered in my chest. It was a lead. A real lead. I couldn’t believe it.

  Tomorrow was Wednesday. And I planned on being back here tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “So what do you think we should do?” Zane asked once we were outside.

  A balmy breeze swept over us. It was a little more than balmy, actually. The wind had a kick to it, and the sky was a strange grayish-brown color. It was partly due to the impending sunset, but mostly because of the approaching storm, if I had to guess.

  “It’s too far to drive home and come back tomorrow.” I glanced around the little town. “Maybe we should try to find a place to stay tonight.”

  “I’m game for it. I guess unemployment is paying off. I can do what I want when I want.” He snapped his fingers in a carefree manner. “Oh yeah.”

  I knew the reality was that I would end up paying for any accommodations for both Zane and me. Of course, this was my mission, my undertaking, so I supposed it made sense. Or was I rationalizing Zane’s behavior yet again?

  “What do you think the odds are that we can find something?” he asked, glancing around.

  The little town did appear to be jam-packed with tourists. Cars parked in every available space and along the street. It was like the island wasn’t intended for this many people and was struggling to accommodate them.

  What I really wanted to know was, what were the odds we could find two separate places to stay? Even though Zane was staying with me in my condo, I had many reservations about it. I’d set some pretty strict rules for him while he was there.

  But there was no way I was staying in a small, confined space with him here on Lantern Beach. No. Way.

  “Let’s go see what we can find,” I said.

  We decided to walk. Smart idea? I wasn’t sure. I supposed part of me hoped I might see my dad while traveling at the slower pace down the sidewalk leading toward the bustling small town ahead. Walking gave me more of an opportunity to peruse everything around me.

  It turned out there were no hotels here on the island. But there was an inn.

  It was full. No room.

  I was pretty sure most people rented houses, and that wasn’t usually a last-minute option. Not in my experience.

  We did find a bed-and-breakfast right on the water—an old plantation-style house with a big balcony. The place appeared slightly run down. The area seemed family friendly—based on everyone I saw—and the B&B was more of a couple’s retreat.

  On a whim, we went inside. They just happened to have some rooms available. Two rooms, for that matter! Good.

  As I pulled out my credit card, I also pulled out my phone and showed it to the clerk behind the desk. “Have you ever seen this man, by chance? He’s a long-lost relative. I came here hoping to find him.”

  The thirtysomething clerk with librarian-like glasses, a homely white shirt, and a severe bun looked at me. “That’s funny. You’re the second person who’s asked me that.”

  That familiar twinge of anxiety rattled through me. “Really? When did someone else come in?”

  “Earlier today, as a matter of fact.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, unsettled by that thought. “That’s so funny. Do you mind if I ask what he or she looked like? I wonder if . . . if my brother decided to get in on this search without telling me. We’re not always great communica
tors.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t your brother. This woman was old enough to be your mom.”

  I swallowed another lump at her words. “Is that right?”

  The innkeeper examined me a little closer. “She did look a little like you, except she had blond hair.”

  My mom. It was my mom. I was sure of it.

  I could hardly breathe as the lump grew larger. “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her that unless this man had stayed here, I wouldn’t have seen him. The bed-and-breakfast is pretty much my life. Sadly. Sorry I can’t be of more help. Do you still want these two rooms?”

  I nodded. “Yes, we do. Thank you.”

  Because this was only the beginning of my search. I hoped that the best was yet to come.

  “What if he’s in danger, Zane?” I paused on the porch of the bed-and-breakfast and lowered my voice so no one would hear. Not that anyone else was around, but you never knew.

  Jerky reporter Kent or psycho stalker Leonard had tendencies to pop up at the most random times. Since they’d helped me out in the past, I supposed I shouldn’t complain, even though I wanted to.

  My every instinct told me to call Jackson with this new information. But conflicting thoughts waged against each other inside me, leaving me with the start of a headache. I wished I could snap my fingers and magically know the right answer. But life wasn’t that simple. I wasn’t that simple.

  “Maybe we should look for your dad tonight,” Zane said.

  I glanced down the street. “How are we going to find him? Go door to door?”

  “No, but we can keep asking around. How about we go get your car and then we grab dinner? Maybe we can talk to a few more people but try to be casual so we don’t raise suspicions.”

  “It sounds like a plan.” Better than what I’d come up with, at least.

  We picked up my car, parked at the B&B, and then took off on foot again, this time walking toward the town. We found a little outdoor restaurant right on the water, and we had to wait only ten minutes for a table. I purposefully chose a seat on the edge where I could watch everyone come and go.

  The idea of eating outside on the water was more romantic in theory than it was in reality. The wind blew our napkins away more than once. Mosquitoes appeared in the interim, nonwindy periods. The water looked angry as whitecaps chased each other, and every once in a while the spray would blow on us, a fine, salty mist that didn’t mix well with my salad.

  Around us, I heard other patrons chattering about the approaching storm. Apparently, forecasters were uncertain which way it was heading. Based on prices, this was a tourist destination. Most locals probably wouldn’t pay seven dollars for a side salad or fifteen for a fish sandwich.

  Had my father eaten here? Was he out and about in the area, continuing on with his life like normal? Or was he still in hiding, only coming out to buy groceries before retreating like a hermit?

  And why here? Why would he have chosen Lantern Beach?

  And then there were the other looming questions: Why was my mom here? Where was she now? And what did she plan on doing with my dad if she found him?

  A headache pulsed at my temples.

  “Joey, I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Morty was murdered,” Zane said, playing with his straw in his iced water and totally oblivious to anything happening behind him. “I know you went out on a limb, and I really appreciate it.”

  I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, though it actually had been a pretty big deal. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “I’d say you went above and beyond.” He smiled, but there was more behind his gaze.

  Enough more that it made me pause. I knew Zane had liked me at one time, but he knew I was dating Jackson now. Maybe. Unless we’d broken up.

  I inwardly frowned.

  Where did Jackson and I stand? It was too early to make any of those calls right now.

  Besides, maybe I was misinterpreting Zane. Maybe that look didn’t have a touch of lovelorn longing. Maybe that was the camera zooming in for a close-up of gratitude instead of framing a pivotal romantic moment.

  The waitress delivered our food. I’d ordered some crab soup, and Zane had gotten some steamed shrimp and fried green beans.

  It felt good to take a minute and stop. I tended to want to move full-steam ahead, and that wasn’t always a good thing. That was why I’d always thought Jackson and I were a good match. He thought about things long and hard before acting. I, on the other hand, jumped in feet first and thought about things later. We balanced each other.

  My heart sagged at the thought.

  My gaze scanned everyone around me again, but nothing caught my eye. No familiar faces or persons acting suspiciously. This seemed like a quaint little town, ideal for a quiet getaway.

  “Should we show your dad’s picture to the waitress?” Zane popped a green bean into his mouth.

  I nibbled on my lip a minute. “That was my first instinct when I came. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if that’s a good idea. I mean, if my dad is hiding out here, maybe drawing attention to him is the last thing I need to do.”

  “Good point. So how do we find him then if we don’t ask around?”

  I released my breath. “That’s the tricky part.”

  Jackson would know. But Jackson wasn’t here right now, and I had only my own instincts to depend on.

  That was a very, very scary thought.

  Zane excused himself to go to the restroom. When he did, I turned my phone back on for a minute. I ignored any missed calls or messages from Jackson. Instead, I scrolled and looked for any more leftover clues from my social media posts.

  As I did, my phone rang. Phoebe. Talking to my friend for a minute might be a nice distraction, and I answered.

  “Joey?” She sounded confused, and I had no idea why.

  “Phoebe?” I repeated in an equally confused voice.

  “Where are you?”

  That was a strange question. Had Jackson put her up to this phone call? I wasn’t sure, but I was suddenly feeling more guarded. “I’m eating. Why?”

  “What happened?” Her tone was all serious and tense, which made me feel tense.

  “What are you talking about, Phoebe?”

  “Jackson called. He’s trying to find you. Said you’re in danger and asked if I knew where you were. When you didn’t answer earlier, I got worried.”

  He just wanted to keep tabs on me and was using this whole danger thing as an excuse. That was what I’d tell myself, at least. “I’m fine, Phoebe. I just had to check out something concerning my father.”

  “I’m worried about you. So is Jackson. And Jackson doesn’t get worried unless he has a good reason.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about.” The wind blew my straw wrapper off, and I scrambled to catch it. Too late. It flew with the wind and landed somewhere out of sight. “Other than my normal bad luck.”

  “Jackson made it sound like your life was in danger,” she said. “He said he couldn’t get in touch with you. Of course I got worried.”

  Jackson wanted me to stop investigating, but I wouldn’t do that. I wasn’t sure Phoebe understood how desperate I felt. “I have to find my dad, Phoebe.”

  “Let Jackson help you.”

  My stomach clenched. I wished it were that easy. I wished I could rewind and do this all over again. “Jackson has been keeping secrets from me since the day we met.”

  “You know that’s the nature of his job.”

  And could I handle that? I wasn’t sure. Secrets could form such a wall, even if there was a good reason for them. “Maybe that’s one more reason we shouldn’t be together.”

  “Joey . . .” Phoebe sighed.

  Why did everyone keep saying my name like that? Was I being irrational here? Maybe. But I needed to use whatever I could to find my dad, and I had to do it right now. I didn’t have time to work through my emotions.

  “I’m doing my best, Phoebe,�
� I finally said. “I promise you that I am.”

  “I know this has to be overwhelming. I don’t want you to walk through this alone.”

  I saw Zane approaching. “I’m not totally alone. But I’ll be careful.”

  “And sleep on all of this. Please.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  But I hoped to find some answers before I got that shut-eye wisdom.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  After dinner, Zane and I walked around town and through the quaint shops. The island had an adorable boardwalk area sandwiched between two rows of shops and restaurants and arcades and even a few carnival-like rides.

  I picked up some coffee and a leather-bound journal that I’d probably never write in. I listened to more nervous chatter from storeowners and vacationers alike about the storm.

  There was no sign of my dad among the crowds and stores. Or my mom, for that matter. There was no sign of anything related to the case.

  But I did discover that the area was an old fishing community that had been forced into becoming a tourist destination after it had been discovered. They’d apparently risen to the occasion and boasted about being the number one undiscovered place to get away to.

  After we’d traveled through town, we paused on the shores of a public beach just as the sun was setting behind us. Beautiful pastels smeared across the water.

  On the other end of the beach, a lighthouse stood strong and tall. It looked old, so I assumed it was no longer in operation. I could also see a pier with lights strung between the pilings and hear music drifting down from it.

  On a different day, I’d love to walk down to it and experience a little bit of the beach life there. Maybe relax. I couldn’t even remember what it felt like to do that. To just have fun without feeling as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders.

  “Look at those waves,” Zane said, the wind blowing his hair up in Medusa-like curls. “If only I had my surfboard.”

  The swells were huge. And I did mean huge. I’d heard anywhere from seven to ten feet. They were a surfer’s dream come true.