by Lena Gregory
“That’s great, Bee. Congratulations.” Cass eyed the mess across the table. Even though exhaustion beat at her, she was grateful for the distraction. At least she wouldn’t have to think about going to bed for a while. “I’m stuffed.”
“I hope you saved room for cake.” Bee grinned.
Hmm . . . she pressed a hand to her stomach. “Of course, I have room for cake.”
The peal of the doorbell saved her from having to try.
“I’ll get it. It’s probably Tank.” Stephanie stood and tossed her napkin onto the table.
Bee started clearing the dishes. Never comfortable around the police, Bee had recently developed a tentative truce with Tank, more for Stephanie’s sake than anything else. The fact that he’d called him showed how nervous the brick-thrower must have made him.
Tank strode through the door and dropped a kiss on Cass’s head. “Hey there.” He nodded toward Bee. “Bee.”
“Tank.” Bee held out a hand, which Tank took. Hmm . . . maybe the two of them were actually heading toward being friends? Bee frowned. “Where’s Stephanie?”
“Uh . . .” Tank looked over his shoulder toward the front of the house. “She wanted to get some fresh air. Said she’d be right in.”
Weird. Cass had no idea what to make of the situation between the two of them, but she didn’t like it. Things between Stephanie and Tank were never strained.
“This is the brick that came through the window.” Bee held the brick out to him. “Stephanie put it in a Ziploc bag, but not until after Cass and I both handled it.” Twin crimson patches stained his cheeks.
Tank took the brick from Bee and stared at it for a moment, then turned it over. “I’ll see if we can get any fingerprints, but you’ll both have to come down to the station and be fingerprinted for comparison.”
A shiver shook Bee. Going into a police station would be torture for him. “My prints are already on file.”
Tank glanced up at him.
“They were part of the background check and stuff they did so I could work with the kids at the theater.”
“Mine are on file, too,” Cass added. She didn’t have to remind Tank why.
He just nodded and continued to study the brick. “Any idea who would have done this, Cass?”
She’d already racked her brain a million times. “No clue.”
“Do you think it could have something to do with everyone thinking Cass led you to a murder victim?” Bee asked.
Tank glared at him. “What are you talking about, Bee? Why would anyone think that?”
“Well, rumor has it Artie Becker came into Cass’s shop for a reading, and his daughter’s ghost led Cass to her body.”
“Really?”
Bee nodded. “I heard versions of it at the deli, the diner, and the bakery.”
“Busy boy today, huh?” Tank’s grip on the brick tightened. “You didn’t have anything to do with those rumors spreading, did you?”
Bee bristled. “Of course not. I listen, but I don’t engage in spreading idle gossip.”
Uh-oh, so much for a truce.
Tank just lifted a brow.
Cass waited as the two stared at each other for a tense moment.
Then Bee laughed and waved his hand dramatically. “Oh, fine. Even I can’t pull that one off with a straight face.”
Cass relaxed. There was enough tension between Tank and Stephanie; she didn’t need Bee and Tank going at it, too.
“But as much as I enjoy gossiping, I never spread rumors about my friends.” He held Tank’s gaze. “And I would never say anything to put Cass in danger.”
Tank nodded and his posture relaxed. “Yeah, I know that. Just do me a favor, and try not to discuss this situation at all. Okay?”
Bee nodded, looking a little dejected.
Tank glanced at Cass, then rolled his eyes. “But if you hear anything good, be sure to let me know.”
“Sure thing.” Bee’s smile relieved any remaining tension. “Are you hungry? Cass made a delicious pot roast, and there’s plenty left over.”
Stephanie walked back in just then, seeming perfectly normal but for the deeper-than-usual lines around her mouth and her puffy eyes. A look passed between her and Tank that Cass couldn’t interpret.
All she could think was that Tank looked concerned, and it worried her.
Stephanie smiled at him, but it didn’t relieve the strain in her eyes, nor did it alleviate Tank’s worry lines. “Go ahead and sit down, Tank. I’ll get you a plate.”
“Okay, thanks.” Tank shook off whatever seemed to be bothering him, pulled out a chair, and sat. “Sit for a minute, Cass. I need to talk to you.”
Uh-oh. What did I do now? “Sure.” She dropped onto the chair across from him.
“Have you heard anything more from Artie Becker?”
“No, why?”
“I want you to promise me you’ll stay away from him.” He stared at her hard, his I’m not playing games face firmly in place.
She shrugged. She had no interest in talking to Artie Becker again anyway. Oh, wait. That wasn’t exactly true. She really did want to know what he’d been doing at the art gallery. “Okay. Any special reason?”
He held her gaze another moment, maybe trying to figure out if she was telling the truth? She was confident he wouldn’t, though. Even she wasn’t sure if she’d talk to him again.
Apparently appeased by whatever he saw, or didn’t see, in her expression, he leaned back in the chair. “I had someone research him while I was out at the beach. It seems his first wife disappeared under . . . unusual . . . circumstances as well.”
Bee’s breath shot out. “Are you kidding?”
“I’m not saying anything happened to her—I’ll have to look into it more when I get back to the station—I just want Cass to be careful until I have time to figure out what’s going on.” Tank pinned him with a look. “And I better not hear about this when I stop for my morning coffee.”
“Hmm . . .” Bee started.
Before the tension between them could escalate—again—Stephanie slid a full plate in front of Tank and sat down next to him.
“What do you mean, disappeared?” Cass asked.
“Sorry, that’s all you’re getting until I have a chance to sort it all out.” Tank lifted his knife and fork and started to eat, apparently done discussing the case. He popped a piece of gravy-soaked meat into his mouth. “Mmm . . . this is great, Cass.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and stood, then tilted her head from side to side and rolled her shoulders, determined to relax and enjoy the company of her friends.
“By the way, I’ve already called someone to fix the window. They’ll be here tomorrow. Emmett’s coming over with some plywood later to board it up until then.”
“Thanks, Tank.” At least that was one less thing she had to worry about. After everyone left and she got cleaned up, she’d have to go out and fill the hole Beast had dug beneath the fence so he couldn’t escape again.
She opened the bakery box, took the Black Forest cake out, and slid it onto a glass cake dish. Her mouth watered at the overwhelming scent of chocolate. After placing it in the center of the table, she grabbed mugs and set them on the table, too, then lifted the coffeepot and started to fill them. The ringtone and her phone vibrating on the counter startled her. She jerked back, sloshing coffee onto the table. Okay, maybe her nerves hadn’t settled quite as much as she’d hoped.
“Go ahead, I’ve got it.” Stephanie grabbed a handful of napkins and started mopping up the mess.
Cass glanced at the name on the screen. Luke Morgan. She excused herself and answered as she started cleaning up. “Hello, stranger.”
“Hello yourself, beautiful.”
Heat flushed her cheeks. She’d been . . . seeing him? Talking to him? Heck, she had no idea what she was
doing with Luke, but even after knowing him for six months, that smooth, thick drawl he laid on still sent her stomach fluttering. “How’s everything?”
“Crazy.” He laughed. “How’s everything there?”
She lowered a stack of dishes into the sink, then turned to lean back against the counter. “Not bad.” No way would she get into all the weird dreams she’d been having, or the utter exhaustion now plaguing her. With Luke living on the mainland, and Cass living on Bay Island, they had little enough time together as it was. She wasn’t about to waste any of it complaining. But she did have to tell him what happened at the beach. He’d just hear it from Tank later, anyway. “Beast found a bone on the beach today.”
“Oh?”
Cass wrapped her free arm around her waist. “Unfortunately, it had a bunch of other bones with it.”
Silence.
“Are you still there?”
A rush of breath came through the line. “What kind of bones?”
“Well, one of them looked to me like a skull, so I’m assuming human.” A tremor shook her voice, despite her best efforts to steady it, and a tear leaked out and ran down her cheek.
“Are you all right?”
She smiled through the tears. Silly, since he couldn’t see her. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes. Tank’s here now.”
“About the bones?”
“Oh. Actually, no. He came about the brick someone sent flying through my window, but right now he’s having dinner.”
“Brick?”
“Oh, right. I forgot to mention that. Someone threw a brick through my front window.”
“At the shop?”
“No, at home.”
“Are you okay? Why didn’t you mention that sooner?”
“I’m fine. I wasn’t even here when it happened. Do you want to talk to Tank?” Luke and Tank had become fast friends. Maybe because they were both cops. Or maybe because of their mutual frustration with Cass. Who knew? Either way, they seemed to have bonded.
“That’s all right. I’ll call him in a little while. I only had a quick minute, but I wanted to let you know I could get away this weekend. If you’d like, we could go out to dinner or something.”
Since Cass couldn’t leave Beast, that meant Luke would be coming to Bay Island. “Sure. Are you going to stay the whole weekend?”
“I can take the ferry over Saturday morning and stay until early Monday morning.”
“You know what? That’s perfect. I have to go to Southampton to do that reading on Monday, so I’ll take the ferry back with you.” This night was definitely looking up.
“Great. You’re sure you’re okay?”
The ringing of a cell phone startled her. She looked toward the table. “I’m fine.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
“Me too.” The long-distance relationship was proving harder than Cass had expected. Not that they lived that far from each other, but neither of them could ever get away. How was she supposed to get to know someone she never even got to see?
“What second body?” Tank’s voice intruded on her thoughts and thundered over whatever Luke was saying. “Where?”
“Cass?” Concern filled Luke’s voice.
“Um, yeah. Sorry. I’m here.”
Tank shoved his chair back and dropped his napkin onto his still-half-full plate. “I’m on my way.”
“Everything all right?” Oh, right. Luke.
“Yes, but I have to run. I’m sorry. I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Is something going on there, Cass?”
“Uh, something’s up with Tank, but I’m not sure what.”
Her gaze met Tank’s, and he rubbed a hand over his crew cut. “Who’s on the phone?”
“Luke.”
“Yeah?” Luke asked.
“No, not you.” She blew out a breath, frustrated with this whole conversation. “Tank asked who I was on the phone with.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Tell Luke I’ll call him later. Right now, I have to run. Thanks for dinner, Cass.” He kissed Stephanie, then squeezed Cass’s arm. “Keep your doors locked, and don’t open them for anyone. Understand?”
She nodded, and he turned to leave, but she grabbed his sleeve. “Wait. What did you mean, ‘a second body’?”
He huffed out a breath. “They just found a second body buried on the beach.”
Cass gasped.
He stared hard at her. “I don’t know what your involvement in this is, but you stay out of anything to do with any of this until we figure out what’s going on. Okay?”
Ice-cold fear gripped her. Her teeth started to chatter as she nodded and watched Tank walk away. An image hovered, just out of reach . . .
“Cass? Cass!” Luke’s voice ripped her from the edge of the vision.
“Yeah. Um . . . I’m here.”
“What is going on there?” A bit of anger crept into his tone. Or maybe fear. Either way that oh-so-sexy southern drawl was noticeably absent.
“I’m sorry, Luke. Tank had to leave. He said he’d call you later, but they just found a second body on the beach.”
He let out a low whistle. “Boy, Tank wasn’t kidding. You really are a magnet for trouble.”
10
Against her better judgment, after dropping Beast off at the groomer as soon as they opened Monday morning, Cass stopped at the deli for coffee. It was packed. The worried expressions and snippets of conversation she caught were enough to tell her Tank hadn’t managed to keep news of the second body quiet. Hushed whispers and the term serial killer battered her from more than one direction.
She scoffed. What were the chances of a serial killer on Bay Island? Slim to none—she shivered—probably. But with the start of tourist season approaching, she could certainly understand why people would be concerned. Many of the smaller businesses on the island, especially those along the boardwalk and beaches, brought in the bulk of their income during the summer months. If tourists were afraid to come to the tiny island, they’d spend their summer vacation money elsewhere, and more than one business would go under. Including Mystical Musings.
Cass squeezed into the three-deep crowd at the coffee counter where Emma Nicholls was changing the coffee filters and starting a row of fresh pots. She was also rambling a mile a minute.
She nodded toward Cass without missing a beat in her narration. “And Billy Hayes—the rookie cop with the dreamy blue eyes?—was working security, trying to keep the press out. Can you believe there were reporters from all the big stations out there? They must have come in on the first ferry this morning.” She dumped a potful of water into the last machine and stepped back. “There. Should be ready in a few minutes. Sorry, we got behind with bringing coffee out to the crime scene.” She puffed herself up importantly.
Cass resisted the urge to roll her eyes—barely.
Then Emma set her sights on Cass. “Hey, Cass. Rumor has it you were the one to find the first body. What did you see out there?”
All heads turned to her.
“Uh . . .” Caught off guard, Cass struggled to think coherently. What had Tank told her not to discuss? She couldn’t remember. Better not to say anything. Wishing fervently that she could melt back into the crowd and disappear, Cass tried to come up with something safe to tell the mass of people now staring expectantly at her. “I don’t really know. Um . . . Beast found something and brought it to me. It looked like a bone, so I called nine-one-one.”
“And?” Emma prodded.
She shrugged as if finding a skeleton on the beach was no big deal. “And nothing. That’s it. After the police got there, I answered what questions I could, which were very few, and then I left.”
“Hmm . . .” Emma started to say something more, bu
t Rick, the owner, called her back behind the counter. “All right, people, coffee’s almost ready, but I can start ringing some of you up now, then you can fill your cups on the way out.” She herded the mob into a line and guided them toward the register.
“Hey.”
Cass jumped, startled by the voice in her ear. She spun around and came face to face with Leighton Mills.
Leighton laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She looked around. “Seems everyone’s a little spooked this morning, huh?”
“Seems like it.” Cass joined the line by the register with Leighton right behind her. At the rate Rick and Emma were filling orders and ringing up customers, all of whom, it seemed, wanted to linger and chat, she’d be there forever. There was definitely a nervous undercurrent in the room that you couldn’t miss. Even without being psychic. Which Cass definitely was not. At least, that’s what she reminded herself at every opportunity. She turned to face Leighton.
Leighton took it as an invitation to continue the conversation. “Well, I can’t blame them for being nervous. A serial killer on such a small island is pretty scary to think about.” The offhand manner in which she’d made the comment didn’t match the serious expression haunting her eyes.
“I doubt it’s a serial killer.” At least, she didn’t want to believe it was possible. But Leighton’s shop did sit between the beach and the boardwalk. If she’d already been in this morning, she might have spoken to one of the officers. Maybe Emma’s Officer Dreamy Eyes; he seemed to have an awful lot to say. “Where did you hear that?”
“At the dry cleaner. And the gas station. And I believe it was being discussed when I first walked in the door here.” She laughed a little, her gaze darting this way and that, then lowered her voice. “Do they have any idea who the victims or the killer are?”
Cass looked around to see if anyone was listening. The last thing she needed was the killer—or worse, Tank—overhearing her discussing the case. “I have no idea.”
“No?” Lifting a brow, Leighton waited.