Play That Funky Music White Koi (A Lemon Layne Mystery Book 2)

by Dakota Cassidy

  Or blood?

  Bah. That was crazy. I was letting this vampire thing with Cappie get into my head, and that was plain old nuts.

  I desperately wanted to ask what time this had all gone down last night, and if they’d used that particular chalice to release Josiah’s energy at their ceremony, but I knew I’d be pushing my luck, and she’d become angry and suspicious of my snooping then clam up.

  “You must have all been pretty good friends. It’s always nice to hear about enduring friendships like yours.”

  Now Thea’s look became distracted as she folded her hands together and sighed before pushing off the building. “We had our ups and downs, but we always stuck together in the end.”

  I wondered what ups and downs they’d had, but decided now wasn’t the time to push for answers. “Since college you said, right?”

  “Yep,” she murmured, looking past my shoulder toward the water. “Since college. She was my first friend there. Everyone loved Abby.”

  “Did you all attend Abby’s meetings together? Do you all live in town?”

  Thea smiled then and I have to admit, it changed everything. It lit up her entire face and made her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Josiah…did. And Al, and I live here in Fig full time and commute to Seattle for work. Ivan and Fran are here, too, but not full time. They spend more time traveling for work, but they show up every week like clockwork to attend, no matter how busy their schedules. We had so many lively discussions about the endless possibilities of the afterlife and the existence of the paranormal.” Then she must have remembered Abby was gone again and her lower lip quivered. “But I guess that’s over now. She was our glue, you know? I don’t know what’ll happen if Abby isn’t calling us all to set up our meetings and remind us to get together.”

  Now I was truly interested. I had no idea Abby was anything more than a purveyor of homeopathic goods, but Thea made it sound like she was a saint.

  Leaning against the building, I watched as a family cycled past us, laughing and yelling to one another. “You mentioned the paranormal… Do you mean like the existence of vampires?”

  Thea grinned and bobbed her head. “That and all other paranormal species. Demons, angels, you name it, we discussed it. Abby believed in all sorts of things both metaphysical and supernatural. She truly embraced anything, everything, and most importantly, anyone different than the norm. She welcomed all discussion. That’s why I loved her so much.”

  Which likely explained the two men dressed like they’d just left a Bela Lugosi fest.

  And again, I’m cool with that. If I’d taken away anything from Troy’s death, I’d taken the part about living life for yourself and not everyone around you. You do you.

  Even if it involves a kooky costume, never letting the sun graze your face, and black clothing.

  “May I ask how Josiah died? You said he was sick…”

  Her full lips thinned as she paused for a moment, only the sounds of the tourists and hushed whispers from the people surrounding Rupert interrupting the silence.

  Thea’s head hung low briefly before she spoke, her tone somber. “Cancer. It all happened so fast. He knew, I mean, but it was almost as if one day he was here and the next he was gone. And now with Abby…” She halted, swallowing back a sob.

  I reached a hand out then, grazing her arm for a brief moment of consolation. “I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much loss, Thea. Abby was a kind, caring member of the community. She was clearly very good at what she did. She once helped my mother with a rash she had that even the doctor couldn’t clear up. We liked her very much.”

  Thea nodded with a sharp bounce to her head, the veins in her long, swan-like neck standing out. “That was our Abby, a real helper.”

  Rupert had clearly recovered from the damage I’d done by showing him his husband’s picture, because he stomped down the curb and pointed a finger at Thea, his face stricken with pain.

  “Yeah, she was a real helper. She helped Josiah right into the grave with her crazy theories and stupid natural healing garbage! If it weren’t for her, my Josiah would have seen a doctor much sooner and he’d still be here!”

  * * * *

  And that was the end of that. As the group of Abby’s college friends gathered round Rupert and ushered him away, shushing him and soothing his upset, I stood for a moment in my disbelief, parsing his accusations.

  If there was ever a good motive to kill someone, it certainly would be something like the statement Rupert just made about Abby’s involvement in Josiah’s care. Obviously, he leaned toward western medicine and a good old-fashioned doctor.

  Had Abby really tried to cure cancer with some plants? Or was that just Rupert in a heightened state of emotions, which always lent to outrageous statements and lashing out?

  And then I realized, I needed to tell Justice about what I’d learned talking to Thea. The chalice, the energy ritual, the walk in the woods, and especially how angry Rupert appeared with Abby.

  It was my duty as a concerned citizen, after all.

  After that, I was going home and preparing to have a nice dinner with my mother and my BFF tonight. Hands off from here on out. Period.

  As I turned to cross the street to head to my car, I caught sight of Cappie on the docks, his skinny legs dangling off the side while he enjoyed a beer.

  Zeroing in on my target, I power walked toward him, grateful I’d worn my sneakers instead of my customary flip-flops.

  “Cappie!” I barked, heading down the planks of the short dock near Shrimpie’s. “Don’t you move a muscle, mister!”

  He cupped his hand over his eyes. “That you, Lemon?” he asked, appearing unconcerned about my harsh tone of voice.

  I huffed when I reached him, sitting on my haunches. “You bet it is. What’s this I hear about you telling everyone a vampire bit Abby Hoffer?”

  He clucked his tongue at me, pushing his greasy hair over his shoulder. “Clear as the nose on your face, I’d say. That Abby was bitten by a vampire and Figgers deserve to know we got a bloodsucker runnin’ around here.” He held up his beer to punctuate his point.

  Counting to ten in my head, I inhaled and exhaled before totally dropping down beside him. “Cappie, you have to stop spreading rumors like that. Do you remember what happened the last time with the zombie scare? You nearly killed our business because no one wanted smoked catfish when they came to the store. They wanted the latest scoop on a zombie. You have to stop getting everyone all riled up like this. It just leads to trouble and Mom and I can’t afford another slow season after the last mess.”

  “I just call it like I see it.”

  I took my glasses off and gave him the sternest look I possessed. “You did not see a vampire, Cappie. And you didn’t see a zombie either, but you sure brought a bunch of madness to Fig with that YouTube video.”

  “You saw them bite marks on her neck just like I did, Lemon Layne. Yes you did!” he exclaimed before he took another draw off his longneck.

  I bobbed my head. “Yes, I saw them, and I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for them. We don’t know what that is yet, so we can’t just assume and frighten everyone with accusations that just aren’t true. Now, did you make another video for your YouTube channel about it?”

  “Not yet…” he said evasively, looking away from me in clear guilt. “Been too busy eatin’ at Shrimpie’s. He had all-you-can-peel-and-eat shrimp today for lunch.”

  “Then I’m going to ask you a favor. Please don’t make any more videos.”

  “Don’t ya think the world deserves to know it’s comin’ to an end, Lemon?”

  For a long time, I’d dismissed Cappie’s bold hatred of the government and his fears about them, just because I thought what everyone else thought—he was a little left of center and that was that. I never questioned it. But today, I saw the conviction in his eyes.

  “Do you really believe that, Cappie? I mean, in your heart of hearts, do you believe the world’s going to end with some zomb
ie apocalypse? Like The Walking Dead TV show zombie apocalypse?” I asked softly.

  He gave me a strange look. “What the heck’s The Walking Dead?”

  I chuckled as I looked off over the water at the colorful sailboats darting back and forth under the sun. “Never mind. Just answer the question, please.”

  He looked me directly in the eye and nodded. “Maybe not a zombie apocalypse, but for sure it’s gonna end, and end bad, and the government’ll have somethin’ to do with it. Mark my words. But I’m ready for it, and if ya want, you and May can come stay in my bunker till it’s over. I got plenty for everybody.”

  As crazy as this sounds, my heart twisted in my chest. For Cappie to offer to share his carefully hoarded spoils was really a testament to the man he was on the inside.

  I gripped his hand for a brief moment and smiled. “Thanks, Cap. I appreciate that. I know Mom will, too.”

  “You’re sure welcome, Lemon.”

  However, that didn’t change my mission. I decided the best plan of attack was not to engage his struggle with the government but redirect him to the true tragedy of this morning. “Cappie? A really nice lady died, and it’s very sad. Everyone liked Abby and she deserves the kind of respect only a fellow Figger can give. Let’s not taint her death with talk of vampires and whatever else you secretly think is going on until we know for sure what’s going on. If it turns out to be a vampire who did the dirty deed, I’ll sound the bells right alongside you. But until then, let’s keep that theory off the table. Deal?”

  He let his head hang between his shoulders, setting his beer down on the dock. “Aw, all right, Lemon. When ya put it that way… I liked Abby, too, ya know. She gave me a real nice cream she made especially for me to put on my eczema. Healed it all right up. So I’ll zip my lip just for you.”

  I patted his shoulder in thanks. “You’re a peach, Cappie. Mom and I are grateful.”

  “Are ya grateful enough to save me a brisket sandwich for my lunch tomorrow?” he asked with hope written all over his craggy face.

  I grinned at him as I rose. “For a guy who’s saved me a place in his apocalyptic bunker? You can have two, buddy. See ya later, Cap.”

  Deciding to head to the police station on foot rather than have to hunt for a new parking spot by the station, I figured the walk would do me good. On a day like today, I was swimming upstream, with batch after batch of tourists meandering down the sidewalk at their vacation pace.

  Throngs of people wandered along Main Street, carrying bags from Fig’s different shops, their faces beet red from the heat. Families pushed their children in carriages covered in sand, water dripping from their wet bathing suits as they ate ice cream and freshly popped popcorn. Lively crowds in an array of bikinis and sherbet-colored shorts and flip-flops gathered at the open doors of local restaurants, standing at the entrances and sitting in the small courtyards as they soaked up the sun and chatted, drinks in hand.

  All of these sights and sounds of a tourist-filled summer were reminders of how much I loved Fig, and how much I hated the idea that we’d become a little infamous for murder instead of all the amazing things we had to offer.

  Rounding the corner, I had to push my way through the line for jet skis (the rental place is located right next door to the police station) in order to get to the station, excusing myself as I did. I was so distracted, I nearly ran straight into the newest addition to the Fig Harbor Police, Cory Newton, fresh from the police academy.

  He stood near a table with a red and blue umbrella, polishing off a hot dog like it was his last meal.

  Eight years my junior, Cory didn’t look like the terror he’d been when I used to babysit him from time to time in high school. Nowadays, he was tall and streamlined, with long legs and a freshly trimmed crew cut, but he still had that impish smile he’d always had. That adorable grin he’d grin just as he was about to do something he absolutely shouldn’t.

  “Lemon?”

  I smiled at him, chuckling as I reached upward for his long-armed hug. “In the flesh, buddy. Good to see you! How is everything?”

  He gave me a short hug before he backed away and smiled. “Really good. Bet you never thought you’d see me in a uniform, huh?”

  I nodded and laughed at the memory he was probably referring to. I’d once told him he was going to end up in jail for all the crazy things he’d pulled as a kid. “Yeah, about that. You have to admit, you did give me a run for my money.”

  He bounced his sandy-blond head and smiled broadly, making his dimples stand out and his blue eyes twinkle. “Fair enough. So, hey…you okay? I heard about what happened out at your place.”

  I lifted my shoulders and sighed. “I’m okay mostly—sad for Abby and her friends. In fact, that’s why I’m here in town. I had to get my hands on Cappie before he set the rumor mill to the level frenzy about vampires.”

  Cory flashed his white teeth and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Cappie’s still Cappie, I see? But you know, he’s not as crazy as everybody thinks.”

  I shook a finger at him and warned with a teasing grin, “Don’t you start with the vampire theories, too, buddy. We have enough to deal with because of Cappie crowing from the rooftops about bloodsuckers—at the very least, we need our town officials to keep their heads on straight.”

  “I just meant Cappie’s not so crazy in reference to the marks on Miss Hoffer’s neck. They do kinda resemble vampire bites.”

  Right here, right now, is when I should take myself into the police station and tell Justice what I know about Abby’s friends and go the feck home and stay out of this.

  But did I do that?

  No. Because I can’t resist asking if he knows more about how Abby died.

  “Well, I know they’re not really vampire bites, Cory. But what else could they be?” I asked, looking off into the distance as if I was only asking in passing.

  “Taser marks.”

  My head popped up and my eyes went wide. “Taser marks?”

  “Yeah. Someone Tasered her just before she died.”

  Chapter 6

  Holy Hannah… “But that’s not what killed her, is it?”

  Could a Taser kill you? I guess it could if used improperly. This definitely called for a Google search.

  “No. Word is she died—”

  “Officer Newton?”

  I cringed at the sound of Justice’s voice. Just as things were heating up, I’d been foiled again.

  “Don’t you have a shift starting?”

  Cory straightened then, his spine stiff, his face serious as beads of sweat popped out along his forehead. “Yes, sir.”

  As Justice sauntered up to us, his stride confident and long, I let the air out of my lungs and tried not to look guilty even though I was dying to know what the “word” about Abby’s death was and if this was going to end up labeled a murder.

  The hot sun beat down on Justice’s head, making his chestnut-colored hair gleam. He looked to Cory, his jaw tight. “I don’t suppose our Lemon was grilling you on the Hoffer case, was she?”

  I gave his pec a sharp poke. “Hey! I said I was going to stay out of it and I’m going to stay out of it.”

  Justice peered down at me, his flawless tanned skin glowing from the heat as he gave me the “not buying it” look. “Baloney.”

  I planted my hands on my hips and wrinkled my nose at him. “Call it whatever deli meat you’d like, I’m doing exactly what I said I was going to do.”

  Sort of…

  “She’s telling the truth, sir. She didn’t ask me a single question.” Cory defended my honor, making me smile.

  Justice crossed his arms over his broad chest and popped his lips with skepticism. “The question is, did she weasel something outta you without you even realizing you were telling her information vital to the case? Because she does that to those who aren’t seasoned veterans to her ways.”

  My ways? Please. Sometimes I asked questions. As outlined in the case of my mother’s ex-boyfriend, Myron, I wa
sn’t exactly a genius at it.

  Cory went green, leaving me to assume the Taser information was confidential and he’d made a rookie mistake. So I covered for him. “He did not. We were just passing the time as he was on his way into work. So there, Justice. And if you don’t quit being so quick to call me a meddler, I won’t tell you what I learned this morning, seasoned vet.”

  Justice hitched his jaw toward the precinct, the tic in it pulsing. “You’re dismissed, Newton. Head on in for your shift.”

  Cory gave me another quick hug and mouthed a thank you to me. “Good seeing you, Lemon.”

  I patted his back and smiled. “Good seeing you in a uniform instead of from behind some cell bars, you babysitter’s nightmare,” I teased with a wink. “Proud of you, kiddo.”

  He laughed before turning away from Justice’s stern gaze and headed through the crowd into the station.

  Justice narrowed his eyes at me then. “So, for someone who isn’t snooping, what has Lemon Layne snooped today?”

  I rolled my tongue along the inside of my cheek and crossed my arms over my chest, mirroring him. “Ask nicely and make sure you say please.”

  He cracked an almost smile before he grew serious again. “If you’re withholding information that could impede our investigation, I can lock you up, Lemon.”

  I cocked a jaunty eyebrow at him. “Do you guys serve lunch in cellblock H? Because I’m starving.”

  “Nope, but I can serve you twenty-four hours of cell time with old man Sweeney. He tied a pretty good one on last night and Deloris kicked him out. He was making a ruckus over at the frozen yogurt stand this morning, so we brought him in to give him a place to sober up. I hear he’s got the pukes, though. So you’d better bring a HAZMAT suit…”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Okay, fine. You win. I went to find Cappie earlier to stop him from starting rumors about vampires and garlic crosses, and there was a crowd gathered in honor of Abby Hoffer at her storefront.”

  “I saw that. I’m guessing you went crowd surfing for information?”

  I tried not to take a defensive stance and remain as casual as possible. “Not intentionally. I was looking for Cappie before he stirs everyone up. He made a real mess of stuff last time with Myron’s murder. I can’t afford attention drawn away from brisket and focused on murders in my backyard, Justice. We need this season to be a profitable one, not a sensationalistic one.”