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

by Dakota Cassidy

  Oh! I was going to kill Justice and his bunch when I got my hands on them!

  That was my first thought, that is, until I saw my mother’s statue of David had been knocked over, too. And it was broken.

  Sad panda.

  She was going to be furious. I, on the other hand, wanted to high-five the clumsy forensics person who’d knocked it over and saved me the trouble of creating my own fictional little accident for the eyesore.

  As I listened again, more intently this time, I definitely didn’t hear the pump for the pond. Someone must have tripped over the plug and knocked it out. It was a little darker in the backyard, but I was feeling too lazy to walk all the way back around to the front in order to turn on the floodlights. Mom would have locked the back door before she’d gone off to bed.

  Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I clicked on the app for my flashlight and held it over the pond. Thankfully, Koi George was still swimming quite happily with his fellow fish mates. Feeling my way around the pond, I spotted the plug and pushed it back into the outlet, listening for the satisfying hum of the circulator.

  I was just rising from my haunches, and musing the crack of my knees, when I saw movement from the corner of my eye.

  Startled, I stumbled backward on a lone rock knocked from the koi pond and tripped, knocking my glasses off. Falling to the ground, my immediate reaction was to look around to see if someone was out there in the woods surrounding our house, for all the good it would do me without my glasses.

  Just as I was about to rise and use my phone’s flashlight again, I saw a flash of black, silky material whipping about in the breeze, almost like a vampire’s cape (I know, I know. It sounds crazy), before I was knocked in the back of the head with something hard.

  My last thought before I blacked out from the searing pain was, maybe Cappie and his vampire theory weren’t too far off the mark.

  Chapter 9

  “Lemon? Honey? Hey, Sugarsnap! Wake up, sweetheart. Please wake up!”

  I heard my mother calling me, her voice tinged with fear, felt her warm hand on my cheek, but I couldn’t seem to force my eyes open.

  Wherever I was lying, the couch being my best estimation, sank for a moment as my mother repositioned herself.

  “You’d better double up out there, Justice Carver, and protect my girl! Call in your best at the station, call the Marines, the National Guard, I don’t care who you call, but somebody’s out there and he knocked my Lemon on the head, and I won’t have it!”

  “Mama May, I’m sorry. I don’t know how this happened. I had a couple of men posted out by the woods for just for this reason, to keep watch in case anyone was out there vampire hunting,” I heard Justice say, his tone deep and soothing while my mother’s rose higher with hysteria.

  “Well, then you’d better get an army of men out there, Justice, because a couple of men just isn’t gonna cut it. Hear me, young man? She’s got a knot on her head the size of a baseball. Whoever in tarnation it was could have killed her!”

  “Mom,” I said, reaching blindly for her because my eyes just didn’t want to open. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m really okay.”

  Okay being figurative, of course. My noggin hurt like all get out with a throb I could almost drum a rhythm to.

  Mom gathered me up in her arms, pressing my face into her shoulder until I almost couldn’t breathe, forcing me to open my eyes. “Oh, thank goodness you’re okay, Lemonade!” she sobbed, brushing the hair from my eyes as if I were still five.

  Struggling to sit up, I patted her arm. “It’s all right, Mom. Stop yelling at Justice. It isn’t his fault someone clobbered me.”

  She pushed my glasses onto my face, making her outraged frown clear as a bell. “It most certainly is! That poor boy Andy and the other boy can’t be in two places at once. He should have had someone posted at the scene of the crime as well as near the dang woods!”

  Justice sighed, and as he came into focus, his chiseled face held concern when he placed his hands on his lean hips in customary Justice fashion. “First, Lemon, are you okay? Really okay? I have Doc Ames coming out to take a look at you just to be safe.”

  But I flapped my hand—even if I was terrified that someone wanted to knock me out. “All I need is some aspirin, maybe a cold pack, and I’ll be fine.”

  “Oh no, young lady,” my mother chastised with a wag of her finger under my nose. “If I have to have every little thing checked when I burp the wrong way from that Mexican dish Coco makes, you do, too. You could have a concussion.”

  I laughed then winced, the mere chuckle making my head pound. “You didn’t just burp, Mom. You had chest pains.”

  “That’s because she put too many jalapeños in the rice. I had indigestion. I told you both that before you dragged me down to the emergency room, but you wouldn’t listen. So now, I’m not listening either. You’ll see Dr. Ames and like it, miss.”

  Conceding was best at this point, especially as riled up as she was. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll see Dr. Ames. No back talk, promise.”

  She kissed the tip of my nose and patted my thigh, rising from the couch. “That’s my girl. Now, I’m going to go make some hot tea for you. You sit here and rest till the doctor comes, and you…” She pointed at Justice, giving him the Mama May death glare. “You call up your boys there—call four or five more and get them over here to watch after my girl!”

  Mom pivoted on her heel and left the living room with a harrumph, letting Justice know she was far from over being peeved.

  He sat down on the couch, sinking into the light gray surface beside me. “Mind if I look at your head?”

  I tipped my head forward and let him thread his fingers through my messy hair, now tangled from the wind and a long day. My stomach burbled and jumped as the horror of someone I didn’t know having it out for me set in.

  To take the edge off, I joked, “You think you’ll find some evidence the perp might have left behind in my skull? Like the size of the club he pounded me with? It felt a lot like part caveman club, with a bit of Louisville Slugger thrown in for good measure, in case you’re wondering.”

  I heard his hiss as he ran his fingers lightly over the knot on the back of my skull. “Boy, he got you good, Lemon. What were you doing out there?”

  “You mean in my own backyard? Crazy, me being in my own backyard, isn’t it, Justice?” I threw some sarcasm in there just because there really were dumb questions, and Justice had just asked one.

  He let his head hang low in mock guilt. “Okay, dumb question. It’s automatic where you’re concerned. Anyway, sorry. It is your backyard. So why did you go back there? Did you hear something?”

  “Yeah. The silence of my pump for the koi pond. Your big, goofy forensic team knocked the plug out when they were gathering evidence. I put a lot of money and time and love into that pond. I wasn’t going to just let them all die. Besides, you said once they cleared out, I could go back there as long as I stayed out of the areas they taped off. And I did. Swear it. All I did was push the plug back into the outlet. Then I tripped on a rock—because I’m nothing if not graceful—fell down, knocked my glasses off, started to get up to look for them, and lights out.”

  He ran another gentle finger over the knot on my head, then tipped my chin up and nodded, his tired brown eyes dull from the long day. “You weren’t back there looking for clues?”

  Pushing my glasses up on my nose, I shook my head. “What did I just tell you I was doing, Justice? No. I was absolutely not looking for clues. Swear it on JF’s life. I honestly just went to plug the pump back in.” Leaning forward with a groan and a wince, I asked, “So here’s a question for you. Do you think the killer came back to the scene of the crime? I thought that only rarely happened. If so, what’s back there that he wants?”

  “I can’t answer that for sure. Killers do all sorts of unreasonable things, Lemon. Tell me what you saw. Can you remember?”

  “I remember seeing stars. That’s what I remember.”


  But that wasn’t entirely true. I did see something. A wisp of black material that I’d swear was a cape of some kind. But if I told him that, he’d think I was nuts.

  Justice smiled and pulled out his pad and pen. “I’m being serious. Did you see anything else?”

  The moment of truth had arrived. “You’re going to call me crazy.”

  “Like that hasn’t happened before?”

  That made me giggle. “Okay, but let me finish before you label me again. Swear, I thought I saw black material. You know, just a quick glance of it flapping in the breeze before I was thunked on the back of the head.”

  Justice frowned and scribbled something. “Black material? Why is that crazy?”

  “Because it looked like a vampire’s cape,” I said, holding up my hand to stop his protests. “Don’t say it because I’ve already thought it. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but it was just a flash before I don’t remember anything else. Could be my mind playing tricks on me or maybe Cappie’s rooting around in my head.”

  Justice paused a moment, pressing the pen to his lips before he spoke. “You know what, it’s not that crazy. We’ve been interviewing this group of people Abby had meetings with all day long and there were some very eclectic folk attending on a weekly basis.”

  He was terribly forthcoming tonight, so I decided to roll with it and keep it casual. Even with the throb of my head. “Do you see any of them for suspects?”

  Fluffing a pillow behind me, he pushed my shoulder to encourage me to sit back. “They’re interesting characters, for sure, but we haven’t come across any red flags so far. Did you know Abby believed in vampires? Like, really believed in them?”

  “I did tell you she was open to most everything, didn’t I? The afterlife and the paranormal believers were all welcome at her meetings.”

  “Some of the people who came to her meetings actually live the lifestyle. I mean, truly live as vampires—or maybe I should say they imitate the lifestyles of vampires.”

  I really needed to research that aspect of Abby’s life. I found it fascinating. “Do you mean they only go out at night and drink blood? Because several of the people milling about Abby’s store today were pretty pale…”

  “I do mean exactly that. To each his own, I suppose.”

  “Not me. No, sir. I could never do that. I’d miss banana pancakes too much.”

  Justice laughed. “Me too. Anyway, maybe it’s not so crazy the person who walloped you was involved in her meetings.”

  “Did you see all the pictures of them on their Facebook pages? In particular, the one of Matthew Miles and a very broody lady with gorgeously sleek waist-length hair as yet unnamed?”

  He winked a thickly fringed eye at me. “Yep. I sure did. We scoured all their Facebook and Twitter pages, too, Detective Layne. Matthew Miles died in 1989 of a heart attack. Pretty young for a heart attack but apparently, he’d had heart problems all his life, if you listen to his mother and brother—both of whom I’ve talked to, and both of whom were very forthcoming in the investigation. The woman we haven’t identified yet, but we didn’t find her pictures until late in the day. We’ll follow up with all of them tomorrow about who she is.”

  “Are you guys any closer to finding out who did this?” Yes, I know, a dead-end question when it came to my letter-of-the-law Justice, but it never hurts to ask.

  He gave me the standard look, but followed it with a grin. “I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you we have some decent leads, including her group of friends.”

  “I’d tell you not to waste your time with Rupert, Josiah Kent’s husband, but I know you won’t listen.”

  “Why is he a waste of time?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and squeezed my temples to dull the throb. “Just a hunch. That’s all I can say. I know he has motive because of how upset he was with Abby and her homeopathic healing, and I’m sure you know that now, too, but he just doesn’t feel right.”

  “That’s your problem when you stick your nose in stuff, Lemon. You can’t involve your feelings.”

  Justice could poo-poo my feelings all he wanted, but I knew I was right about this. “Which is why I’d never make it as a cop. So, what do we do now? I can’t identify anyone to help you with whoever hit me tonight. He totally blindsided me. And what do you suppose this person was looking for anyway? Didn’t your guys get everything?”

  “I’d like to think we did, but how can we know for sure? They scoured the area with a fine-tooth comb but you managed to find a barrette, which I looked up on Facebook, too, and it sure looks like the same one in the picture you told me about.”

  Leaning my head back, I tried to keep my eyes focused. “Has anyone questioned Fran Little—maybe by phone?”

  “Yep, and she’ll make an appearance at the station tomorrow once her flight gets in.” He flipped his pad closed and rose, stretching out his legs.

  Sitting up, I slid off the couch, too, and wobbled. “And was it her barrette?”

  Justice righted me with a strong grip on my upper arm. “She says she’d forgotten all about it, but she must have left it at Abby’s store after a meeting one night, maybe as far back as a year ago, before she cut her hair short. She claims she used to bring it with her and put her hair up at the store because it was always so warm in there. Apparently, Abby had some sort of thermostat problem. Miss Little said it wouldn’t be unlikely for Abby to have used it because they’re friends.”

  “Do we know if Abby was wearing it the night she was killed?”

  “No one can seem to remember because, according to everyone, they were too distraught over Josiah’s death to notice.”

  That made some sense, I suppose. I know for sure if I were distraught, I might not remember a barrette Coco was wearing because fashion isn’t necessarily my thing.

  “So why would it be in the front yard? To get out of the woods, you have to go through our backyard first. If Abby was dead in the koi pond, she never got out of the backyard.”

  “That’s a good question. One I wish I could answer. I suspect she was trying to run away. We don’t even know if Abby was wearing the barrette that night. Until we verify, I have no answer.”

  Sighing, I wrinkled my nose, pulling loose from Justice’s grip to walk him to the front door. “So, we’re still at square one.”

  He pointed a finger at his chest and smiled. “I’m at square one. You’re at home, safe.”

  I tried to grin, but it hurt my face muscles. “Right, right. I’m at home safe, getting knocked out cold.”

  “I’ve beefed up the manpower out there, so you can sleep safely. Pass that on to your mother, if you would. I already have a couple of strikes against me. I don’t need another one. And by the way, Andy feels pretty crappy about this, you know.”

  “Tell him not to feel badly. It’s like I said. He can’t be in two places at once. It wasn’t his fault. I’ll make sure to bring him some brisket tomorrow so he knows I’m not upset.”

  Justice gripped the cap of my shoulder, his fingers warm and soothing. “Okey-doke, and I’m going to go take a look around before I go. You stay here and wait for Doc Ames to come check you out—and do as he says. Please.”

  “I swear I’ll stay right here and wait.”

  “I’m glad to hear you weren’t out there investigating, Lemon. I swear, I lose more sleep over you than I ever did playing Fantasy Football.”

  I thought that was odd. We’d been friends for a long, long time, and Justice didn’t seem like a worrywart. But losing sleep over me? Huh.

  I chuckled at his analogy. “Don’t be too glad. I have poked around a little. But tonight, you can sleep with the knowledge that I’m pretty jacked up and a little dizzy from this knot on my head. Consider me out of commission for the time being.”

  “Phew,” he teased. “A full night’s sleep, ahoy! I’m positively giddy.”

  I followed him out to the foyer just as the headlights from Dr. Ames’s car pulled into the driveway, and patted him on the back. �
��Sweet dreams, buddy.”

  Justice cracked one more smile before he tipped an imaginary hat toward me. “Night, Lemon, I’ll check on you tomorrow. Call me right away if you can remember anything else—or if you need me for anything at all.”

  Anything at all… What a weird thing to say. Was Justice getting sentimental in his old age? But I didn’t spend much time analyzing. Instead, I said, “Will do.”

  He passed Dr. Ames on the steps and, as promised, I greeted him just as Mom came from the kitchen, hot tea in hand.

  * * * *

  Jessica clung to me like she’d never clung before. I’m guessing, sensing my distress, she needed to stay close. So rather than put her in her cage, I kept her near me as I followed doctor’s orders and stayed awake on the off chance I had a concussion.

  I thought that was silly, but my mother insisted I stay awake and alert because she didn’t want me to die of a brain swell.

  Ironically, it was Mom who sat lightly snoring in my father’s old reupholstered armchair to watch me and make sure I didn’t fall asleep, which made me laugh because she’d been out like a light since an hour after the doctor had left.

  But this gave me a chance to do some poking around, and I felt safe doing so since Justice had posted two police officers by the front door. So, I hunkered down on the couch with my laptop and looked up living as vampires.

  Staying awake wasn’t a problem, because living as a vampire made for some interesting reading. I probably shouldn’t be reading with the knot on my noggin, but all this talk of drinking blood and night dwelling had my eyes wide open. Though, maybe not in the way one would think, and certainly not along the lines of the Dracula train of thought.

  I came across words like hematomaniac, someone who craves blood and claims to suffer withdrawal symptoms without, but only needs a few teaspoons per week to quell their desire.

  I read about different types of vampires—sanguinarians (blood vampires), and energy vampires who drain your life force. That took me aback. I’d certainly read about emotional vampires in the slang sense, meaning they drained your energy in general, but this was a whole new world to me.