I agreed to a couple of interviews and promised to review an endorsement deal.
“What’s going on with this new suntan tattoo thing?” he asked during a break in conversation.
I froze on the couch where I’d been sitting with my coffee and my favorite quilt. “What are you talking about?”
“There was something in the Instigator about how you wore a special shirt that gave your skin polka dots. Now people are selling shirts with designs cut out and calling them suntan tattoos.”
I grimaced. Dermatologists from across the country were going to curse me. I self-consciously rubbed my arm, where I knew one of those circles was mocking me right now. “Interesting.”
A moment of silence fell, and then Rutherford got to the real heart of the matter. “When are you coming back to Hollywood, Joey?”
His question instantly made me feel twenty pounds heavier—twenty pounds more burdened, for that matter. I pressed myself harder into my couch, wishing I could disappear into the soft cushions.
“I don’t know. Maybe I won’t come back.” My throat lost all its moisture as I said the words.
“Now you’re talking ridiculous. If you want a career, you have to come back.”
“Plenty of actors and actresses live away from tinsel town,” I said.
“No successful ones.”
“Demi Moore.” Ha! Take that, Rutherford!
“When was she in a movie last?”
I tried to remember but couldn’t. Daggonit!
“You need to think long and hard about your career, Joey. This is a make-or-break moment for you. Don’t let some small-town detective ruin a promising future.”
I took total offense to what he said—offense as in I wanted to reach across the phone line and smack him. Instead I squeezed the handle of my coffee mug so hard I feared it might snap and took a deep breath.
“Being famous isn’t the pinnacle of life.”
“And love is?” He snorted. “Love will let you down, Joey.”
“Spoken like someone who’s been married three times.” I probably shouldn’t have said that, but it was the truth. I was going to call Rutherford out if he tried to play mind games with me.
“Touché. Careful or you’ll follow in my shoes.”
Heat burned my cheeks.
I didn’t appreciate his insinuation. I’d wanted to get married only once. I had no idea the man I’d fallen in love with—Eric Lauderdale—would turn out to be abusive. I’d let myself down when I’d gotten divorced, but our marriage couldn’t be fixed. Not if I wanted to survive.
I decided not to acknowledge his implication. “Hollywood can also let you down. It’s more fickle than love.”
“I can’t deny that.” Rutherford’s voice sounded wry and hoarse with cynicism. “But I do think you should think long and hard, Joey. There’s no turning back time.”
I hung up, and melancholy washed over me.
Being here in the Outer Banks had been fun. Being with Jackson was fun. More than fun. He was unlike anyone I’d ever met before, and he did crazy things to my heart.
But what would I do when I found my dad—because I was determined I would find my dad, if it was the last thing I did.
I couldn’t stay here and cut hair for the rest of my life. Well, I could, but would that really satisfy me? I didn’t think so.
And right now I could live off the money I made on my previous body of work. But I knew that cash wouldn’t last forever. Even if I were super frugal—something I wasn’t known for being—eventually those paychecks would run out.
I sighed, closed my eyes, and let my head drop back into the couch.
I didn’t really want to think that hard about the future. I’d rather just enjoy the moment. But at some point, I would need a wake-up call.
Until then, I would focus on finding my dad. Every mystery I solved in the meantime helped me to learn the ropes.
Just as that thought entered my mind, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Annette.
There had been another rock drop.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I stared at the computer screen at the #JoeyRocks page, trying to interpret what the picture and clue might mean.
The clue said 2310. That was the clue. What was that number directing me to? I had no idea. An address?
My extensive Google-utilizing skills did no good. No one would ever mistake me for Tony Stark—for more than one reason.
That rock was somewhere. And maybe it was the final clue I needed to put these pieces together.
I did the only thing I could think of. I called Jackson and told him the update.
“Does that number make any sense to you?” I crossed my fingers.
“It does,” he said.
I waited for him to continue, but after a few seconds, I wasn’t sure he would.
Finally, he sighed. “I’m going to tell you, but only because I know you’ll figure it out later anyway. Joey, that’s the address where Morty was found.”
My pulse spiked. “Good to know.”
“Don’t go there alone, Joey.”
“But—”
“I’ll pick you up.”
I smiled, thrilled that he hadn’t asked me to stay away. “It’s a deal. I’ll see you soon!”
True to his word, Jackson picked me up ten minutes later, and we went to the scene of the crime. As I walked between the houses on the path leading to the ocean, I remembered being here on Friday. I remembered the horror of realizing it was Morty’s dead body.
I paused for a moment at the crest of the dune, and a cool wind blew across my face. There was definitely a storm brewing out to sea. If the weather forecasters had their predictions right, it was going to be a big one. However, they expected it to stay out in the ocean and not come ashore.
“Anything new?” Jackson asked as we continued toward the beach.
Again it pressed on me that I should tell him about my nosiness and breaking in to Billy’s place. But I knew he’d be disappointed. Probably lecture me. Until I knew if what I’d found was significant, I didn’t want to deal with that.
I wasn’t sure if that choice was wise or not. But I was going to hold on to my resolve for now.
“Nope, not really.” Just then, I spotted something near a post, partially concealed by the dune grass.
It was the #JoeyRocks gift that my stalker had left for me. Jackson picked it up, careful to hold it with a plastic bag—just in case there were prints. I leaned closer for a better look.
Another set of lines and dots were painted across the surface.
“This is one of the strangest things I’ve seen in all my years of detective work,” Jackson said.
“Someone is trying to tell me this location is important. Just like Blackbeard’s Pleasure and the Hatteras Lighthouse.”
“But why are they important? How does this fit with Morty?”
At least Jackson and I were asking the same questions.
Just then, movement caught my eye.
Someone was behind some sea oats, crouched low as if he or she wanted to remain hidden.
It was Leonard Shepherd.
Again.
Jackson saw him at the same time I did.
“He’s not going to get away this time,” he muttered.
And then Jackson took off after him.
This time Jackson tackled Leonard on the sand. He dragged him to his feet and snapped some handcuffs on his wrists.
I hurried to catch up with them, not even caring about the onlookers. There were plenty of them staring at the spectacle being played out here at the beach.
“Are they shooting a new scene for Relentless?” I heard someone murmur in the distance.
I could see where someone might think that.
But this was all too real.
My heart pounded with anticipation. With a thirst for answers—a thirst that had been growing in me for a long, long time.
I studied Leonard’s face as I approached. It was partly
covered with sand from Jackson’s tackle. His hair and his scruffy beard matched the sand. His skin was slightly greasy, and even though the man was in his fifties, he still had a few zits. He was scrawny and probably five eight. Something about him just looked squirrely and untrustworthy.
“Why have you been following me?” I asked.
His eyes widened when he saw me, not with fear but with admiration—or something he mistook for admiration. Obsession maybe?
“Because I love you, Joey.” He licked his lips. “I’ve always loved you.”
Cold fear dripped down my spine. “You don’t know me.”
Jackson kept a grip on Leonard’s bicep, pulling him back before Leonard could even think about stepping closer.
“I saved your life, Joey. I could have died.”
I remembered that day. He was telling the truth. The man had distracted a killer before the guy could finish me off. And then he’d disappeared and continued stalking me.
“And I appreciate that,” I told him, shoving a hair out of my eyes as the wind blew against me. “But you’ve also scared me beyond measure.”
“I only wanted to watch out for you.” His eyes looked so earnest—but did something else linger there? Malice maybe? Some kind of sign that something wasn’t right?
Jackson turned to address him, his jaw hard. “Why are you leaving these rocks?”
Leonard’s demeanor changed as he looked at Jackson. “That’s noneya. None of ya business.”
Jackson glowered at him. “I don’t think you know who you’re talking to.”
“You’re the man who thinks you can steal Joey from me.”
“Steal Joey from—” I started.
Jackson cut me off. “You know something about what’s going on here. You need to tell us what.”
“If I wanted to tell you, I would have. I left you the clues to figure everything out.”
“How do you know anything?” Jackson asked.
“There are advantages to being the guy that no one ever sees,” Leonard said. “No one notices a scrawny, middle-aged man like me. I blend right in.”
“Do you know who killed Morty?” Jackson continued.
“Figure out the clues I left you.”
Jackson let out a breath, obviously trying to control himself. Then he backed up and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling someone to take you down to the station.”
“You can take me.” Leonard’s eyes were on me, not Jackson.
“I don’t want you in the same car with Joey.” He put the phone to his ear and called someone.
But I still had questions.
I implored Leonard with my eyes, desperate to know the truth. “Leonard, I know you’ve been watching me. Who are these other people who are helping you? What do you know about them? Please tell me.”
A smug look crossed his face. “They all like you. But not as much as me.”
“Who are they?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know any names. I know one is a cop. One’s a journalist. Another one claims to be your friend.”
My friend? My unease grew by the minute.
“What else do you know, Leonard?” I asked. “You’re the only one with answers.”
Yes, I was imploring to his pride. I didn’t even care if he took it the wrong way. I was so close to learning the truth.
The smugness deepened but intermingled with a look of curiosity. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” Seriously, I had no idea.
He leaned toward me. Jackson kept a hand on him and listened carefully to our conversation.
“Someone put a bounty on you,” Leonard said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
My heart thudded a beat as Leonard’s words echoed in my ears. This whole conversation felt surreal, like a nightmare I should wake up from. “What does that mean?”
“Someone is paying out rewards to anyone who posts information about you, what you’re doing, where you’re going. Any aspect of your life, really.”
Everything else faded until I could only hear my heart pounding hard in my ears. “Why would someone do that?”
There were many things I’d expected him to say, but never that. It made no sense. Or I didn’t want it to make sense.
Leonard shrugged. “It’s a game. Like hunting. Some guys need a bigger rush, so they head to Africa for their lions and elephants. Others get a little more creative and keep things closer to home.”
“Who’s paying the bounties?” Jackson demanded, his grip visibly tightening on Leonard’s arm.
Leonard shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m only a participant.”
“What’s the payout?” Jackson asked, his voice deeper than usual. It was his no-nonsense tone, and I always cringed when he used it on me.
“Five thousand for good details.”
Five thousand? That was no small amount. And it was so unbelievable that someone would do that. It seemed . . . extreme. Dramatic. Sad.
“How much have you ‘earned’ so far?” My throat was dry and achy as I asked the question. I crossed my arms, trying to ward away the wind, but my hair was blowing in my face and irritating me. But not as much as Leonard was irritating me.
“Twenty thousand. It’s quite lucrative.”
Twenty thousand? And he was just one participant. Who would have the money to do something like that?
Only one person came to mind.
Winston Corbina.
Could he be behind this?
I wasn’t sure. But I didn’t like the thought of it.
Another officer picked up Leonard Shepherd to take him to the station. As they drove away, Jackson remained there on the beach, seemingly in no hurry. His jaw was set with determination, and I could tell that whole conversation had upset him.
“Do you have enough evidence to hold him?” My chest felt tight as I said the words. My head was swirling with emotions right now, and I felt certain that if I let my guard down for even a minute, I might pass out.
“Sure I do. Aggravated stalking and resisting arrest, for starters. I’m sure there are other charges we can press also. They’ll hold him until we can get a warrant, but I don’t foresee that being a problem.”
“Good.” Leonard needed to be locked up. He had enough crazy in his gaze to leave me unsettled—especially since I seemed to be his focus.
Jackson’s eyes latched on to mine. I hesitated, fearing he’d see everything I was feeling. All the fear and confusion and more confusion.
“I know you have to feel shaken,” he said.
I didn’t bother to deny it. Jackson could read me better than a veteran officer reciting someone’s Miranda rights. “I am. I mean, a bounty?”
“That was even more than I expected to hear.”
I raised my hand, shielding my eyes from the sun. “Do you think he was telling the truth? Could there be a cop involved in this?”
Jackson’s expression darkened. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“But why would he lie?”
“I don’t know. But until we get to the bottom of this, we need to be extra cautious.”
I nodded in agreement, feeling more unsettled by the moment. My mind still raced through everything I’d learned. “Do you think Leonard will offer any more information?”
Jackson didn’t say anything for a minute and seemed to contemplate his response. “It’s hard to say.”
“You don’t think he’ll offer anything new, do you? He likes flaunting his power over us by remaining silent. And he doesn’t like you because he thinks you like me.”
Jackson stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I do like you.”
I sucked in a quick breath. “Well, at least I’ve heard one good thing today.”
He pulled me toward him, pressing me into his chest. “I’m not going to let him hurt you, Joey.”
I believed him. I knew Jackson would do whatever it took to keep me safe. And I loved that about him.
There was just so much other stuff
going on though. Realistically speaking, he couldn’t be with me all the time.
I just needed to focus on figuring out what was going on. Maybe then, when it was all over, Jackson and I would have an honest chance with each other. Just one more reason to find answers.
I glanced at the rock in my hand. Jackson had given it to me before chasing Leonard. “Do you have the other rocks?” I asked.
“I have pictures.”
“Can I see them?” Something had been nagging at the back of my mind—a theory I wanted to test out.
He nodded. “Sure. Why?”
“He said all the answers were there. I want to see these rocks together.”
We went to his police sedan, sat inside with the doors locked, and Jackson blared the AC. He found the photos I requested and handed them to me.
I stared at the three rocks together, trying to make sense of them. I turned and twisted the photos until something clicked in place in my head.
My pulse spiked as I stared at the photos. “Look, if I put them together like this, it looks like a symbol, doesn’t it? Like these random lines and circles were puzzle pieces that needed to be put together before we could see the whole picture.”
As Jackson studied my mishmash of photos and the actual rock, his gaze darkened. “What have you gotten yourself into, Joey?”
“What does that mean?” I didn’t like the sound of it.
He outlined something with his fingers, tracing the lines around an image. “Do you recognize that symbol?”
I squinted, hoping something would click. Finally it did. “It’s like an upside down U with two lines through it, a circle in the corner, and a line at the bottom. What does that stand for?”
“It’s . . .” He let his voice fade with a sigh.
“What is it, Jackson?” He didn’t want to say it. Which meant I wanted to hear his conclusion even more.
“It’s nothing.”
I turned to him, not letting him off the hook that easily. “It’s something. What’s that symbol mean?”
He pressed his lips together momentarily before finally muttering, “It’s one of the symbols for the Barracudas.”
Blooper Freak (The Worst Detective Ever Book 5) Page 13