Nodding, I blew out a breath and tugged my hair back. I suspected we were about to walk into a tornado.
Chapter Twenty
An hour later, my phone trilled from where it sat on the bar and I jumped, knocking my funny bone against the corner of the stool.
“Ow, ow, ow,” I cursed, reaching to glance at the screen. “I don't know this number.”
“Just answer it,” Beau said from where he sat, scrolling through his laptop. Trace hadn't come back after his little snit; as far as I was concerned, he could stay out on the patio or wherever the heck he had gone. It wasn't worth my time right now to hold his hand.
“Hello?” I answered, leaning back against the bar and meeting Beau's eyes.
“Ms. Rose?” Chief Dupree's sugarcoated drawl reached me through the phone and I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise.
“Yes, I'm assuming this is Officer Dupree?” I asked sweetly.
“That's Chief Dupree to you, Ms. Rose, and I'll ask you not to forget it again.”
“Sorry, Officer,” I said again and saw Beau shake his head at me.
“I'm calling to inform you that Ms. Lavelle is being charged with the murder of Renaldo Santiago.”
“That was quick. Doesn't take you long to frame someone, does it now, Officer?” I seethed into the phone, my hand gripping it so tightly that I'm surprised it didn't shatter.
“Be careful, Ms. Rose, threatening an officer of the law can land you right next to your little friend in here.”
“Oh, so now you're an officer? Please. I didn't threaten you and we both know it. Just like we know that Luna didn't murder Renaldo. I'll have her out on bail tomorrow and don't think I won't be suing you for slander for your little chat down at Luca's before you even went to question Luna. My mother has some of the best lawyers in the nation on call.”
I didn't like using my mother's contacts that often, but when Luna's life was on the line? I would use everything I had to save her.
“I'm sure that won't be necessary,” Chief Dupree said, “and, you'll need to wait until Wednesday for a bail hearing as the judge won't be back from his vacation to the Caymans until then.”
“What!” I screeched, pulling the phone away to look at it in disbelief. Beau rose from the table, walking towards me quickly, a question on his face.
“I'm sorry, Ms. Rose, there's nothing that can be done.”
“You are violating her rights, Dupree. The Caymans are less than a two-hour flight away, so bring that judge back now. If she doesn't get a bail hearing by Tuesday at the latest, I will hunt you down and make your life a living hell, so full of legal red tape that you'll wish that you never signed on to be a police officer in little Tequila Key. You're entering a world of pain, Officer,” I swore as I turned my phone off on his protesting words, knowing that I literally couldn't stand hearing his voice anymore or I would scream.
“What's happening?” Beau asked, wrapping his arm around me. Trembling wracked my body and I leaned into Beau for a moment, needing his strength.
“They've charged her with murder and they say she can't get a bail hearing until at least Wednesday because the judge is on vacation.”
“Is that even legal? They can't just keep her there,” Beau protested.
“It appears they can. I need to get a hold of my mother,” I said, hating to think about Luna, such an elegant and classy woman, being held in the dumpy little jail downtown.
“Why don't you go get Trace first?” Beau asked gently and I raised my eyebrow at him.
“What? You want me to apologize? It's not my job to placate him right now. It's not like we are even dating,” I said, putting my hands at my hips.
“Kindness never goes out of style, my friend,” Beau said, running a finger down my nose. “Now, go. I'll email your mother.”
Dang it. Why did Beau always have to be right about everything? Gnawing on my lip again, I made my way towards the patio, trying my best not to stomp my feet like I wanted to.
Easing the door open, I poked my head out to see Trace stretched out on a lounge chair, his eyes on the ocean that stretched before us.
“Hey,” I said softly, moving across the patio to drop onto the chair next to him.
“Hey,” he said back, his eyes never leaving the ocean.
“Listen, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. It's just…a lot right now. I don't think that I can handle all of these extra…things.” I waved my hand in the air lamely, trying to think of a better word to encompass everything that had evolved between the men in my life and myself in a matter of days.
“I get it,” Trace said stiffly, still staring out at the ocean, the picture of a wounded puppy that had just been kicked.
“Trace!” I said sharply and he jumped, glancing at me in surprise.
“I'm not rejecting you. I'm not saying yes and I'm not saying no. I'm just saying not right now!” I all but shouted, and then forced myself to bring my decibel level down.
Inside voices, I lectured myself in my head.
Trace held up his hands, but a smile flitted across his face briefly. “Okay, okay. Loud and clear.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you. Because Luna just got charged with murder and Dupree isn't letting her get a bail hearing until at least Wednesday. We need to solve this like yesterday,” I said, turning to scan my eyes along the beach below us. A glint of light reflecting off of something caught my eye and I saw a flash of red.
“Trace, let's go inside. Now. I think someone is taking pictures of us,” I breathed, smiling and nodding at Trace like an idiot to pretend like I hadn't just seen a reflection off the lens of a camera.
“Damn paparazzi,” Trace seethed, slamming his laptop closed and following me across the patio into the restaurant.
“Paparazzi? We're not famous. And Tequila Key doesn't have paparazzi,” I said, surprised when a high-pitched giggle whistled from my throat. Biting down my lips, I realized that I was dangerously close to having a serious giggle fit.
“Oh God,” Trace said, scanning my face before motioning to Beau.
“Whiskey. She needs a shot of whiskey,” he called and Beau nodded, jumping behind the bar to pour me something from a bottle that I couldn't see. I had started to huff and puff in an effort to keep the giggles down, but the more that I did, the more they threatened to bubble up. I was like a kid in Sunday mass, and there was no stopping this train.
“Drink,” Beau ordered, sliding the shot glass down the bar in an amazing Cocktail-like move. I snagged it before it could slide off the end and slammed it down, the sheer fire of it causing my giggles to come to an abrupt stop.
“Thank you,” I gasped, sputtering against the burn in my throat.
“You can't lose it on us. There just ain't time for any of that nonsense, honey,” Beau said.
“God, you're so right,” I breathed, sliding onto a stool and putting my head in my hands.
“Althea, you have to see what you can do to tap into your second sight again,” Trace said, sitting beside me.
“The problem is – I'm exhausted and emotionally on edge. I never, ever, read well when I'm like that,” I said. “You can't always trust what comes through.”
Trace shot Beau a glance and Beau just shrugged.
“Okay, back to the old-fashioned way then,” Trace said, pulling his laptop out.
“Follow the money,” Beau quipped.
Trace didn't even look up from his computer, just forming his hand into a shooting motion at Beau. “Bull's-eye.”
Chapter Twenty-One
As night crept in, I paced the restaurant, frustrated with the lack of momentum. Beau was at the door, having a conversation with what I assumed was another patron he was turning away. Guilt crept up my spine for a moment but then I shook it off, knowing that Beau loved Luna just as much as I did.
“Althea, it's Craig Donaldson,” Beau called and I cringed.
Craig Donaldson was the local reporter for the weekly Tequila Ta
les newspaper. I grimaced, just thinking about how he would sensationalize this story. Murder was big news in any town, but in Tequila Key?
Luna had no chance.
“No comment,” I called.
“He says if you talk to him, he promises to stop hounding you. Or I'll pull all the advertising from his paper,” Beau said sweetly, though I could hear the steel ranging under his voice.
I had to laugh. If Beau pulled his advertising, the newspaper would struggle to stay open.
“Why don't you just pull your advertising then?” I said, just so I could stress Craig out as I slowly made my way to the door.
“Maybe I should,” Beau mused, playing along.
“Because I'd hate for you to advertise at a paper that only prints lies. Seems as though that would be more of a tabloid, really,” I said, coming to rest against the doorframe, running my eyes over Craig's now slightly panicked face. Mid-fifties and with a skin tone that was almost always one shade too pink, Craig could be your neighborhood accountant. He had never struck me as much of a reporter and I suspected that he was going to use this story to try and make his name.
“Craig,” I said evenly, raising an eyebrow at him, noting that he was wearing a red shirt.
“Althea,” Craig said, bobbing his head a little.
“Have fun taking pictures on the beach today?” I asked and Beau's chin came up as he looked down at Craig.
“Were you on my private beach-front property taking pictures today?” Beau asked and Craig shook his head vigorously.
“I was not,” he said.
“Let's take a look,” Beau said, snagging the camera strap that was slung over Craig's arm and ripping it from his body before Craig could do anything about it. My adoration of Beau went up even more as he single-handedly stiff-armed Craig while he scrolled through the pictures.
“Delete, delete, delete,” Beau said, ruthlessly deleting all the images on the camera.
“You can't do that!” Craig cried.
“Looks like I just did. If I ever find you trespassing again, I'll sue you so fast you'll never be able to do business in this town again,” Beau said softly and Craig's shoulders hunched as he nodded.
“I'm sorry. It's just such a big story and I couldn't get to Althea and Trace and they found the body and…” he sputtered. I raised a hand to cut him off.
“Listen up, you pipsqueak, if you even remotely suggest Luna is the murderer, I'll put a hex on you that will make your package shrink, if you get my meaning?” I said, using my reputation to help me for once.
Craig's face went white – well, the whitest I had ever seen it – and he nodded, gulping audibly.
“But what am I supposed to say about the murder then?”
“You say that we found a body and that the police are working on the case. You are only a weekly. Put the edition out tomorrow with those details,” I ordered.
“But…but I know that Luna has been charged,” he said.
“Well, just tell people you didn't know that by the time the print deadline came,” I threatened.
“Can you give me any details about the body? Just something?” Craig pleaded and I sighed, running my hand through my hair again to tug at the ends.
“There was an anchor tied to the feet. You could see the claw marks on his legs where he had tried to get it off,” I said, wincing as I thought back to Renaldo's bloated body. Craig scribbled in his notebook, nodding, switching into reporter mode.
“And how did you feel about finding him?” Craig asked, his eyes coming up to mine.
“How do you think I felt, Craig?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at him.
“I…I imagine you'd be pretty upset?” he asked.
“Yes, Craig. Upset, shocked, horrified. I'm lucky I didn't have a panic attack and die on the spot. Now, get out of here,” I ordered.
Craig scurried down the walkway and I shook my head after him, turning to look up at Beau.
“Would you really pull your advertising?”
“Would you really be able to shrink his package?” he asked, a smirk crossing his face.
“Maybe. With Luna's help,” I snorted, turning to go back inside, melancholy settling like a weight on my shoulders.
“On second thought, I'm going home. Hank needs me. Is there anything else we can do tonight?”
“No, but let me drive you,” Beau insisted.
“I suppose I shouldn't turn down the offer,” I sighed, calling to Trace.
“And you won't. I'm crashing with you tonight too, sugar.”
“Do you think we can do this?” I rolled my head on the pillow to look at Beau an hour later. Hank snored softly at the end of the bed, worn out from running ecstatic circles when we had returned home, having first dropped Trace off at his house on the way. Trace had claimed that he wanted a change of clothes, but I think he just wanted to put some space between him and me.
“Solve a murder? No problem, sweetie. We just have to be extra diligent,” Beau said.
“I'm worried about Luna. I wish they'd let me talk to her.”
“Can you like…beam your thoughts into her head?” Beau asked and I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Beam my thoughts?”
“Whatever, I'm too tired to try and think of a politically correct term for the magic stuff you two do.” Beau waved his hand at me and yawned, snuggling deeper into the covers.
“I don't know. I've never tried,” I said, wondering if Luna and I could use our extra abilities to communicate.
“Just send her some love. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, I'll do that,” I said, my eyes slipping closed as I imagined a big pulsing bright pink wave of light coming from the top of my head, floating over the town, and into the jail where Luna was. I waited for a moment, allowing the light to cover the jail, praying she could feel our love.
I gasped as a stunning white light – of course Luna's light was white – intense in its energy and beauty, met mine with such force that I knew it was Luna, my white witch best friend, telling me she was okay.
“She sends her love,” I whispered, and Beau reached out to squeeze my hand.
“We'll kick some murderer-butt tomorrow,” he promised.
Which was precisely what I was afraid of.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I'm just going to get some things from the shop and then I'll meet you back here. Or do you want to go to your restaurant again?” I asked Beau, trying to change the subject from the fact that I was going off on my own for a bit.
“Meet back here so Hank can hang with us too,” Beau decided, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.
“Hey, it'll be fine. I'll drop you off so you can grab clothes, pick up some sandwiches from Luca's, and be back to you within the hour. And frankly, why shouldn't I be worrying about you? Or Trace? Huh? Why do you seem to think they'll come after me?” I demanded, placing my hands on my hips and giving my best attitude to match my hot pink hair.
“Ugh, it's way too early for you to pull that out,” Beau grumbled, walking to the front door.
I smiled after him, happy that I was getting my way.
“Hank! Toy!” I said, tossing a squeaky ball across the room as Beau and I stepped onto the porch and made our way to where my Mini was parked at the curb. Today was not a good day for beach cruisers.
Obviously.
“What do you want from Luca's?” I asked as I pulled away from the curb.
“Pastrami today, I think,” Beau said, squinching up his cute face as he thought about it.
“Final answer?”
“No. Rotisserie chicken on wheat with that delightful avocado mayo he does,” Beau decided.
“Okay. But he may spit in your food when I give him a piece of my mind about running bets on Luna,” I said and saw Beau's grimace from the corner of my eye.
“Maybe you don't say anything about that until after he prepares the food? Just a thought?” Beau said as I pulled to a stop in front of his charming beach bungalow that mad
e me sigh in envy every time I walked through it. It was like an HGTV reality show mixed with Martha Stewart had thrown up inside. It gave me something to aspire to, I suppose.
“Smooches,” Beau called, hopping out of the car before turning to lean back in, his face moving into the shade.
“You get an hour before I send a search party.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him and gunned away from the curb as soon as he slammed the door. I needed to get Luna's spell book and make sure nothing else had been disturbed at the shop.
I'd had a fitful night of sleep after Luna's burst of light had reassured me that she was doing okay at the jail. Though I'd felt calmer about her safety, my questions about Cash had kept me up as I had nervously replayed the scene from the spell.
Cash or Theodore?
My bet was on Theodore. I just couldn't see Cash as a murderer.
As though he was reading my mind, my phone beeped with a text when I pulled up to the shop. Looking down at the screen as I unlocked the door, I stepped inside and leaned back against the door as I read the text.
Are you all right?
I couldn't help but feel a fluttery little squeeze around my heart at Cash's text. Moving to the back of the shop, I stopped in front of the armoire with Luna's safe.
Define all right, I texted back.
You haven't killed anyone? You're not locked up? All your delicious body parts are accounted for?
I shivered at his words, wondering just how his hands would feel on certain delicious body parts.
“Oh jeez,” I said, quickly telling him I was just fine before turning to the safe to get Luna's spell book and some extra cash. I pulled the book – bound in supple white suede, naturally – from the safe and tucked it in my bag, along with a stack of cash, anticipating that I'd need to pay Luna's bond. I really hoped Dupree would let her have visitors today or at least have a phone call. I fully intended to go down to the station with Beau after lunch to harass Dupree's secretary into letting us talk to Luna.
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