See You at Sunset

by V. K. Sykes

  Horton looked sullen but kept his mouth shut.

  “Over there.” Micah pointed to a cleared area near the bluffs where they’d be out of hearing range of the other men in the crew. He turned on his heel and headed that way. Cain and Horton trailed behind him.

  “There was another break-in last night,” Micah said, after they’d come to a halt. “At the house beside the Jenkins General Store.”

  “So what?” Horton asked belligerently.

  “Do you two have anybody who can vouch for your whereabouts between nine forty-five and twelve fifteen last night?” Micah flicked his gaze to Horton. “I guess I’ll start with you, since you were so anxious to jump in.”

  Horton’s fists clenched, his face reddening. “Fuck you. This is harassment. I don’t have to answer a goddamn thing.”

  Cain gave his buddy a calming pat on the shoulder. “Jace was at a poker game with some of his friends, and it didn’t break up until well after midnight. Isn’t that what you told me this morning?”

  “Five guys were at the table,” Horton grumbled. “Call ’em if you want to waste even more of your time.”

  Micah drew out his notebook and handed it and a pen to Horton. “Write down their names and any phone numbers you know.”

  As Horton wrote, Micah focused on Cain. He was back to being the smooth operator, not the belligerent jerk he’d confronted at the VFW hall. “I know where you were between approximately ten forty-five and eleven twenty-five, but what about before and after?”

  Cain heaved an aggravated sigh. “Oh, let’s see. Well, first I was sitting on my ass in front of the TV watching the Red Sox game. When that was over, I was bored, so I decided to check out some dance I’d heard about. But some dumbass deputy fucked that up for me, so I went back home and sulked until my girlfriend got home. Then we… oh, well, you can guess,” he said with a shit-eating grin. “What can I tell you? That hot babe I was dancing with got me a little worked up.”

  Micah wouldn’t take that lame-ass bait. “No alibi then?”

  “Nope. Stupid me,” Cain mocked.

  That was the damn truth. “So what time did your girlfriend get home? I’m assuming it was after you got back from the dance, or do you and Brandy have… what do they call it? An open relationship?”

  Cain started to look pissed but had enough control to dial it back. “Must have been about twelve thirty. She’s on the evening shift, and the last couple of nights she’s had to stay late for inventory or something.”

  “There’s no ferry at that hour, so how does she get home? Water taxi?”

  “Yeah. Costs a bitch, but that’s the price you pay for living out here in this little corner of paradise,” Cain said.

  Micah took his notebook back from Horton, noticing that he’d provided only one phone number. It was a start.

  “By the way,” he said to Cain, “where does Brandy work?”

  The guy frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I’ll need to confirm some of this with her employer. After the crap that went down at the Pot, I’m pretty interested in her whereabouts too. As a matter of fact, I intend to keep a very close eye on both you and Brandy Keele from now on.”

  “Just leave her out of this,” Cain growled. “Your beef’s with me, and it’s obviously personal now. Maybe it’s time I filed a harassment complaint with the sheriff’s office.”

  “Sure, you do that. But right now, just answer my question.”

  “Here’s your answer, Deputy—go screw yourself. You want to know anything else, you’d better arrest me.”

  Cain walked away. Horton flipped Micah the bird and followed his friend back to their crew.

  Micah found it interesting that Cain got so riled at questions about his girlfriend. He’d even balked at telling him where the woman worked. It was weird, because Micah had probed about Brandy more out of thoroughness than any intention to spend a lot of time investigating her. But what Cain had just said, and even more what he refused to say, had sparked his interest.

  Unless Brandy Keele was a liar—and knowing that would tell him something too—finding out where she worked should be a simple matter of one phone call.

  Chapter 25

  Despite taking a shower and a short nap, Beatrice still looked haggard when she came downstairs to the kitchen. Worry for her sister and the stress of camping out at the hospital were leaving their mark. Holly hoped she could talk her aunt into staying home for a while. Florence would be quite all right without her, but convincing Beatrice of that would be an uphill battle.

  “Can I get you something?” Holly asked as her aunt lowered herself onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

  Beatrice gave her a wan smile. “A cup of tea would be lovely, dear.”

  “How about a blueberry scone? Morgan made them fresh this morning. It’ll be a while until dinner is ready.” She was making a mac and cheese casserole, one of her aunt’s favorites.

  “Maybe later.”

  Holly put the kettle on. “So it looks like Florence will be there at least a couple more days?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Beatrice said with a sigh. “You can imagine how she reacted to that news. But I think they finally convinced her that the extra tests really are necessary. And the doctor was quite blunt about her chances of a stroke if things don’t change.”

  “Change meaning new medications and a lot less stress, right?”

  Beatrice nodded. “But I’m not sure my sister is quite ready to hear that.”

  Holly had often wondered whether her tendency to stick doggedly to a chosen course had been passed down from Florence. Her aunt was the ultimate hardhead, but Beatrice almost always went with the flow. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if Holly took after Beatrice a bit more.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” her aunt said, perking up a bit. “Carrie Adams and Dottie Buckle were on the same boat as me. They’d spent the day shopping in the city.”

  “Uh-huh,” Holly said, dropping a pair of tea bags in the pot.

  “Well, they were certainly singing your praises, dear. They really like what you’re doing with the store. They said they loved the pottery and the new coffee machine.”

  “Wow, that’s really nice to hear.”

  “Yes, and they told me the store is practically the talk of the town. They meant that in a good way, of course. Dottie said she’s sure tourists are going to flock here.”

  “Well, sales do seem to be picking up some.” Holly had started to feel cautiously optimistic, although it was early days yet. “But I’ve still got a lot to do to round out a full selection of artisan works.”

  “I can’t wait to tell Florence what they said. Maybe that will finally start to convince my stubborn sister.”

  They could only hope.

  Holly decided to grab the bull by the horns. “I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to stay, Aunt Beatrice. I’m under terrible pressure from my new partners. If I don’t get down to New York very soon, I…”

  Holly wasn’t quite sure what would happen. Would David and Cory cut her out of the partnership if she didn’t start pulling her weight? When they’d approached her months ago, all they’d talked about was the trio’s awesome synergy. Now though, they’d clearly started to question her commitment. She sensed they no longer fully trusted her.

  From a strictly business standpoint she could see why, but their lack of understanding grated on her. The more she talked to them, the more she realized how little she actually knew about them as men, not just as dynamic marketing experts. What did they believe in on a personal level?

  Holly couldn’t pretend to have been a paragon of responsibility when it came to her own small family, but she’d always known she’d be there for her aunts whenever they needed her.

  “I thought something like that must be going on,” Beatrice said, frowning. “Since you’ve been home, you’ve looked worried the whole time. I hate that, Holly.”

  She couldn’t deny that all t
he stress was taking its toll. And since she had a mirror, she knew she was beginning to look thin and worn down as well.

  It’s a wonder Micah even finds you attractive anymore.

  Whoa. Where the heck had that thought come from? She forced the images of the sexy deputy to the back of her mind. “I’m trying to find ways of managing it all, Aunt Beatrice.” The tea was finally ready, and she was tempted to add a splash of scotch to her cup.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to run the store all this time, Holly. We shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

  “Actually, I distinctly recall volunteering.” Holly smiled as she sat opposite her aunt.

  Beatrice ruefully acknowledged the point. “In any case, you really should be thinking more about your own business, not ours.” She fixed Holly with a penetrating gaze. “That is, if you really do want to go to New York.”

  Holly stifled a sigh.

  “I say that,” Beatrice went on, “because the way you’ve been talking about it lately, I’m not sure you really do.”

  “But I have to, Aunt Beatrice.”

  “Why, dear? Is someone holding a gun to your head?”

  Holly shifted in her chair. “You know I’ve always wanted my own firm.”

  “Yes, and your ambition does you credit.”

  “But?”

  Her aunt gave the tiniest of shrugs. “I have to wonder what the point of success is if it doesn’t make you happy.”

  Holly’s fingers involuntarily tightened on her mug. “What makes you think I’m not happy?”

  “Dearest, after all these years, I know when you’re happy and when you’re not.”

  Holly couldn’t even convince herself, so how could she expect her aunts—who were effectively her mothers—to think she was happy? “Well, it’s awfully hard after you lose your husband,” she said, falling back into her old defensive pattern.

  “Of course. But this isn’t about Drew. Your work hasn’t been making you happy for quite some time now, and that boyfriend of yours certainly hasn’t either.”

  “Ex-boyfriend, you mean.”

  Beatrice’s thin gray brows crawled up her forehead. Holly hadn’t mentioned the debacle at Lily’s party, nor of course had she said a word about soaking-wet sex on a private dock with the island’s deputy sheriff.

  Her aunt’s worn face split into a grin. “Now that’s progress. But I hope you’ll think hard about that new job of yours too, because Florence and I wonder whether moving to New York will make you happy.”

  Holly had to smile back. “You’ve always been there for me. Always.”

  Beatrice started to look a little misty. “I wasn’t lucky enough to get married and have children. But I’m so blessed to have my sister and my niece, and to be able to live in a place where people truly care for each other. Florence and I don’t have much in the way of money, but we feel very rich anyway. And I’m happy. Florence and I both are, even though she doesn’t like to let anybody think that. Your happiness is all we want now, Holly.”

  And what could Holly possibly say in reply to that, except that she wanted it too.

  “At last,” Micah said, answering his phone as he pushed his chair back from his desk. He’d been waiting for Griff Turner’s call all day.

  “Yeah, well, I was on the goddamn witness stand until five minutes ago,” Turner said in a pissed-off voice. “And I have to go back again in the morning.”

  Micah sympathized. “That sucks. Anyway, I’m sorry to sound impatient, but I think I may finally have something on the break-ins here.”

  He filled Turner in on his conversation with Horton and Cain as well as a follow-up call to Cain’s landlady, Sally Christopher. “Sally’s a real stickler for vetting her tenants, so I knew she’d have asked for background information on Cain and his girlfriend, Brandy Keele. She said she knew where Keele works without having to look up the paperwork. It’s because Sally uses that pharmacy and has seen her there.”

  “Pharmacy?”

  “Yeah, Keele’s a pharmacy technician at Watson’s. And that’s the place where the victims in all three break-ins got their prescriptions filled.”

  “Okay, that’s pretty damn interesting. But if the woman wanted to steal drugs, why wouldn’t she just rip off Watson’s?”

  “Griff, when was the last time you had an in-house theft reported from a pharmacy?”

  Turner hesitated. “Okay, it was quite a while ago.”

  “Yeah, because there isn’t much employee theft going on anymore. Pharmacies have implemented tougher protocols and really screen their prospective hires. I know for a fact that Watson’s keeps tight control of their narcotics, and they have video surveillance too. They know exactly who’s putting their hands on drugs like Vicodin.”

  “You’re right, but if all you’ve got to go on is that the stolen drugs were prescriptions filled at the same drugstore…”

  “No, that isn’t all. Look, I know damn near everybody in Seashell Bay. These days, most folks go to Hannaford’s or Walmart for their drugs because they’re already shopping there for groceries and other stuff. I don’t know too many that use Watson’s anymore. I think it’s mostly loyal customers who’ve been going there for years and years.”

  Turner’s grunt seemed to signify acceptance of the point. “You think Keele steals from people who she knows have narcotics prescriptions?”

  “I’m sure Cain does the break-ins—him or his buddy Horton. But we can check with Watson’s to find out when Keele was working—I was planning to do that anyway.”

  “I’ll handle that,” Turner said. “My turf.”

  Micah was relieved to hear it. Griff obviously wasn’t totally convinced, but he was getting into the case. “I’d like to be there when you do. And there’s something else you should know too.”

  “Shoot.”

  “The last break-in was the real clincher for me. Cain knew Holly Tyler’s aunts were at Maine Medical. He also knew that Holly was out at a local dance and that the house was empty. The fact that the Jenkins’s prescriptions came from Watson’s is just too big a coincidence in my book.”

  “Okay, I’m with you,” Turner conceded.

  “Griff, we really need a warrant for Cain’s house now. That’s the only way we’re going to nail those guys.”

  “Yeah, but it’s still going to be a long shot to convince a judge. Let’s hold off until we talk to Watson’s.”

  It wasn’t ideal, but Micah would take it.

  Chapter 26

  The next day, Turner was waiting for Micah in his unmarked car on Commercial Street. He’d parked directly in front of the pharmacy, which was part of an old-fashioned but well-maintained cluster of stores only a few blocks from the pier where Micah had docked his boat. Turner had called him from the courthouse earlier and said he’d already arranged for them to meet the owner of Watson’s at noon. Micah had headed immediately down to his marina and had docked in Portland twenty minutes later.

  “Brandy Keele’s not working the day shift,” Micah said by way of greeting. “I was parked in front of her house most of the morning, and she didn’t go anywhere.”

  “Good. Let’s see what the owner has to say.”

  Turner opened the door, and they headed straight down the middle aisle to the pharmacy counter at the rear. The owner, Alf Watson, was typing into a computer behind the pickup area.

  “Why don’t we head back to my office?” Watson said after they exchanged greetings.

  He led them past a series of high white metal cabinets, where a young woman appeared to be stocking and arranging meds, to a cramped office in a rear corner of the dispensary. Micah and Turner took seats in two steno chairs, while Watson sat behind his desk.

  “You said this is about a theft of prescription narcotics?” the owner asked.

  “Two thefts of opioids in Seashell Bay,” Turner said. “Both prescriptions were filled here.”

  Watson’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Well, we do have a good many customers on the island
.”

  “We want to talk to you about Brandy Keele. Is she scheduled to work today?”

  Stiffening, Watson looked taken aback. “I believe she’s on the late shift today, but I’ll check. Carrie, could you come in here please?” Watson’s words were loud enough to be heard across the dispensary.

  In a softer voice, he said, “Carrie always knows the schedules, and she and Brandy are good friends.”

  “We need to see Keele’s employment file too,” Turner said.

  Watson nodded and swiveled his chair around to pull out the top drawer of a low filing cabinet. He searched for a moment before extracting a file folder and handing it across to Turner.

  At the same time, the petite blonde who’d been arranging the meds stuck her head in the door. “Yes, Mr. Watson?”

  “Carrie, is Brandy working the late shift again?” her boss asked.

  “Yes, sir. All week.”

  “Thank you,” Watson said, dismissing her with a little wave.

  After Turner asked a couple of questions about Keele’s background, Watson frowned. “Detective, I can’t believe Brandy was involved in those thefts.”

  “Why not?” Turner asked.

  “Well, it’s just that I hired Brandy myself. She started out here as a clerk, and not too long after that, she went back to school at Northeast Technical, at my urging, by the way. When she got her certification, she had to go through a criminal background check, like everyone.”

  “How long ago was that?” Micah asked.

  “About two years. And she’s been a generally reliable employee since. She shows up for work every day and does her job competently.”

  “Our theory is that her boyfriend is the one doing the actual stealing,” Micah said, “and that Brandy may be providing him with information. She would have access to all your customers’ prescription records, right?”

  “Of course.” Watson frowned. “I’m not surprised about the boyfriend.”

  Micah and Turner exchanged glances. “What do you mean?” Micah asked.

  “He appears to have had a considerable effect on Brandy.”