Wicked After Midnight (Midnight Blue Beach Book 1)

by Olivia Jaymes

  Chase had thought long and hard about that very question but there was only one answer. “I do. It’s clear they knew her and it’s simply too much of a coincidence that they died on the same date fifteen years later.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ellis reached for the phone on his desk. “There have been stranger ones but I think this is enough to make me take a second look. I’ll call central files.” One quick conversation later, he was hanging up the phone. “They’re going to dig out the case file and send it over. I know what I’m looking for but is there something specific you think might be in there?”

  “I want to know if they talked to Frank Scott, Greg Nelson, or Alex Vaughn. If so, what did they say? I also want to know what suspects they had at the time. I’d like to see if those suspects had any connection to the three men.”

  Frowning, Ellis sat back in his chair. “Do you think whomever killed Gwen had something to do with the other deaths? You said they were ruled accidental.”

  Chase stood and paced the small room. “That’s something else that needs to be investigated. Were they ruled accidental because of the circumstances, because of their wealthy families wanting to bring any investigation to a close? I’d like to see what the local officials have on those deaths.”

  It wouldn’t be easy. Bailey’s husband had died in a diving accident in Turks and Caicos, which would make any paperwork regarding the death almost impossible to get. Peyton’s husband had died in France so the same impediment applied. Only Willow’s husband had died in the States and his accident had been alcohol and drug related. There had to be a coroner’s report at least.

  “I doubt you’ll be able to get your hands on that,” Ellis replied. “If there is something funny going on here and we have a killer on the loose, they certainly aren’t stupid. In fact, they might be a genius.”

  Chase stopped and shook his head. “How do you mean? They did this all on the exact same day. Not exactly trying to hide their tracks, are they? It was almost like they wanted to be caught.”

  Ellis drummed that damn pencil against the wood of the desk making Chase’s head hurt. But he’d seen that expression before. His detective friend was deep in thought and nothing was going to make him speak until he was ready.

  “Christ, just say something,” Chase finally groaned as the silence stretched on. “I know you want to.”

  Standing, Ellis leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “So here’s the thing. The reason I say they might be a genius is because if the men’s deaths were foul play the killer planned them perfectly. Two of them were out of the country. Think about that. There’s nothing a tourist destination wants to close out faster than the case of a person who had a bizarre accident. Shut it down and keep it out of the press. Nothing to see here, folks, move along. Then the third death was a nasty accident with someone who was known to abuse alcohol and drugs. But let’s face it, anyone could have slipped him something and no one would know. Whatever showed up on his toxicology screen wouldn’t even be questioned. If these deaths were murder, then the killer isn’t stupid.”

  There was one thing his friend wasn’t thinking about though.

  “The killer might not be stupid, but is he a time traveler?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Chase leaned on the desk and looked his friend right in the eye. “All the deaths were on the same damn day. Unless this killer can travel through time, how in the hell was he in three places at once? Tell me that.”

  Ellis fell back into his leather chair with a groan. “I don’t know. Are we now postulating that there are multiple assailants? A conspiracy? Jesus Christ, Chase. This gets murkier with every passing minute.”

  “Welcome to the last twenty-four hours of my life. Do you see why we need to look into this again?”

  There was a look of resignation on Ellis’s face. Chase didn’t know whether to feel sorry for his friend or tell him to snap out of it. There was work to be done and Chase wasn’t a cop. He needed his friend’s expertise.

  “I’ll help you,” Ellis said with a shake of his head. “We’ll look at the file and see what’s there. What else do you want me to do?”

  “I need the names and addresses of the people Gwen knew well that summer. I want to talk to them.”

  “About her murder? What makes you think you aren’t going to get the door slammed in your face?”

  “You sound like Bailey,” Chase grinned. “I have an idea actually. A way to get them to talk about that summer without letting them know I’m looking at the murder.”

  “Whatever crazy scheme you’ve come up with probably won’t work.”

  What would Chase do without his glass-half-empty friend? “All I need it to do is get me in the front door.”

  “It’s going to get you thrown out on your ass and I want to be there to see it.”

  “With friends like you, who needs enemies?” Chase laughed.

  Ellis held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “Just be careful, okay? The last thing we need is any more deaths. You do realize July twenty-first isn’t that far away, right?”

  Chase glanced at the calendar on the wall. It was exactly four weeks from that date and he sure as shit didn’t want to end up a strange coincidence.

  That no one could explain.

  Bailey had never been a morning person. She loved staying up late reading or watching a movie, then sleeping in until the sun shone brightly in the window. A luxury she rarely experienced. In her line of work, mornings were an important time and even when she’d been in school she’d scheduled classes early in the day so she could work at a part-time job in the afternoon and evenings. But those days she could sleep in felt better than anything in the world.

  Today wasn’t one of those days.

  Apparently Chase was an early bird, the annoying bastard, because he’d scheduled their breakfast for eight in the morning. For a male, that meant he rolled out of bed at seven-thirty, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, maybe shaved, ran a comb or his fingers through his hair, threw on clothes he barely glanced at, and then walked out the door. By seven-forty-five. An eight o’clock meeting wasn’t a big deal.

  For a woman it was completely different.

  There was hair to wash and blow dry, legs to shave, makeup to apply, clothes to select. Sometimes being female was exhausting. This was why she spent so much time in yoga pants, tank tops, and flip flops. She didn’t stop to ponder why her appearance was so important when she was around Chase. She wasn’t necessarily ready for the answer she’d get.

  Finding the restaurant didn’t take long however and she was sliding into the booth at one minute till eight. Punctuality was important to her. Chase, however, seemed surprised she was on time. He looked up from his menu, his brows lifted.

  “You’re here. I guess you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”

  The cozy restaurant was off the beaten tourist path, down the highway from Colonial Williamsburg, which was fine with her. She liked people but too many at once wasn’t her preference.

  “Did you expect me to get lost?” She held up her phone. “I have the knowledge of the universe in the palm of my hand.”

  Smirking, he signaled for the waitress to bring Bailey some coffee. “With all that wisdom at your fingertips, you must also know that this place makes amazing waffles.”

  “It seems like every corner has a pancake or waffle house on it. I didn’t realize our Founding Fathers were so breakfast-centric. I must have missed that day in high school history class.”

  The smells coming from the kitchen were amazing and her stomach growled softly in case she was planning to deny how hungry she was.

  “Now you know,” he laughed lightly, and she noticed the crinkles next to his eyes when he smiled. Chase Jennings was – by any measure – a handsome man, a kind man, a smart man. She hadn’t dated much since Frank’s death. It was her choice and one she was comfortable with. She hadn’t met anyone that had captured her
interest until now. But romance wasn’t what she was here for and getting sidetracked wasn’t a good idea. This was about finding out the truth, not flirting and kissing.

  “So what do you recommend?”

  “Everything’s good but the waffles are great. I eat them with maple syrup but they have a whole slew of toppings if you want to get wild. They also do a nice traditional bacon and eggs if you don’t want something sweet.”

  He didn’t know her at all. She’d crawl buck naked over hot coals to get to a chocolate cupcake.

  “I always want something sweet. I’m a baker.”

  The waitress came to take their order and Bailey decided on the blueberry waffles and a side of bacon while Chase selected the traditional buttermilk waffles with a side of hash browns and bacon.

  “Tell me about this bakery.”

  She sipped at the coffee and let the warmth seep into her bones and muscles, swearing she could feel the caffeine beginning to work. “I love it. Now if I want red velvet cake I simply whip one up. Every day if I so desire.”

  His gaze raked her up and down as she sat across from him, his scrutiny making her warm and tingly like she was back in high school and he was captain of the football team.

  Focus, for heaven’s sake.

  “I don’t think you ever mentioned what you do.”

  He didn’t answer at first, instead playing with the handle of his coffee cup and looking out of the window. Perhaps he wasn’t going to answer which seemed odd, although he might be unemployed and too ashamed to tell her. Geez, she needed to keep her curiosity under control. Making Chase feel badly about his financial situation was a crappy thing to do when he’d offered so nicely to help her. In fact, it should have occurred to her before this. Who else would have time to assist her other than someone without a job? She made a mental note to pick up the check.

  “I have…investments,” he replied, sounding way too hesitant to be believed. Now she really felt lousy. He turned and smiled at her as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “I keep busy here and there. Always something to do.”

  Probably odd jobs, and she was keeping him from working while he was helping her. Maybe there was a way to get him to let her pay for his time?

  “That’s great,” Bailey said, anxious to change the subject. “What do you like to do in your free time? Do you have any hobbies?”

  “Not really. I run every morning, weather permitting. I like watching sports and I do some kickboxing with my friends Josh and Ellis. Sometimes we go camping or fishing. I guess you could say I like to be outdoors.”

  Not one thing he listed was anything she enjoyed doing. Dear Lord, he was outdoorsy. As in he liked being outside. In the heat, the cold, the sun, and the rain.

  “You have a funny look on your face. Don’t you like fishing or hiking?”

  Artifice wasn’t Bailey’s strong suit and she didn’t use it now. “I have no idea. I don’t hang out around the outdoors very often. I’m allergic to pretty much everything out there. Pollen, grass, ragweed. And as for running? There’d have to be someone chasing me. Plus it’s outside so to go back to my earlier objection…I do things that I can be inside for. It gets awfully hot and muggy in Florida.”

  He was looking at her like she wasn’t quite right in the head. “Didn’t you tell me you live at the beach? Are you saying you don’t go there?”

  She shuddered, remembering the last time she’d spent the day at the beach. “Maybe once a year when my friends come down from the cold north and drag me there. Too much sun, way too much sand, and last time I got stung by a jellyfish and one of my friends wanted to pee on me. That’s enough of the outdoors for at least a year.”

  To her chagrin, Chase burst into laughter causing a few heads in the restaurant to swivel their direction. “I can see why you feel the way you do. Did you let your friend pee on you?”

  She slapped her cup on the table at the unpleasant memory. “I most certainly did not. I made them take me home and we looked up the treatment on the Internet which was relatively simple and straightforward and involved baking soda, not urine.”

  “Good for you,” he approved, but he was still laughing. “I do like the beach but I’m sure I might like it a lot less if I was stung. But you should try running. I do it in the early morning or sometimes the evening as the air is cooling off. It’s great exercise but mostly I use it to clear my mind and think things through.”

  “It sounds boring. You just…run.”

  “It depends on where you run. I should take you in the early morning before it gets hot.”

  The waitress came back with their breakfast plates and if Bailey’s meal tasted as good as it looked, she was in for a treat. Chase had excellent taste in restaurants.

  “We’ll see. I don’t have any sort of workout gear with me. Besides, aren’t we supposed to be working on the case?”

  “We will but we can’t go see Stephen Baxter until tonight. That reminds me, did you bring a cocktail dress with you?”

  The first bite of waffles was like heaven with a full angel choir and harp music in the background. Light, fluffy, and melt in your mouth. Damn, these were good.

  “I can tell by the look of bliss on your face that I chose wisely.” Chase took a hearty bite of his own breakfast and hummed in approval. “I eat here at least once a week.”

  “These are criminally good. I wonder if they’d give me the recipe.” She took another bite and closed her eyes to savor the flavor. It was nice that he enjoyed eating as much as she did. “And no, I don’t have a cocktail dress with me. I wasn’t planning on attending any parties.”

  “You are now,” Chase declared. “We’re going to one tonight so after breakfast we’ll head out to get you something to wear.”

  “Does this party have anything to do with Gwen?”

  Chase popped a bite of hash browns into his mouth with relish. “It has everything to do with her. The country club is having their usual weekly cocktail hour tonight and Stephen Baxter and his ilk will be there. So will we. You’re going to ask Stephen about Frank, not about Gwen. Pretend you’re just trying to find out more about your late husband’s life before you.”

  “I am trying to do that.”

  Chase smiled. “Then it should be easy.”

  “Just how are we going to get into this country club party? Crash it?”

  Chase took another bite of waffle and gave her a playful wink.

  “Piece of cake, honey. I’m a member.”

  Now that she hadn’t expected.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bailey smoothed her hands down over her hips and regarded herself critically in the full-length mirror back at her hotel. She hadn’t thought much of this dress when Chase had plucked it off the rack and urged her to try it on but she had to admit he’d chosen well. Normally she wore black, white, or red. Clean, classic lines. This was something altogether different.

  Bright flowers on a cream-colored background had made her skip over the dress when she’d been browsing but the halter-style bodice and the flowing skirt that fell just about her knees was feminine and flattering. She’d paired the frock with red high-heeled sandals and purse. Her jewelry was simple as well to go with the summer theme – a plain gold chain around her wrist and gold hoop earrings.

  The buzzing of her phone let her know he was downstairs waiting. She couldn’t delay this any longer. She was of two minds about this evening. One part of her desperately wanted to speak with Stephen Baxter, find out if he knew anything about Frank. The other part, that portion of her that was shying away, was trying to scare her with all sorts of thoughts about what the truth could do to her. That part was currently being squished under her heel like a bug.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  Chase didn’t look so bad himself. The suit looked like it could have been made for him, the way it fit his broad shoulders and tapered to his slim hips. The trousers were dark gray and the jacket was a lighter shade of gray, which he’d pulled over a white shirt a
nd black and gray striped tie. This was not the wardrobe of a man who was unemployed. She’d seen expensive, hand-tailored suits and this had all the signs.

  “You look good too. Nice suit.”

  He pulled a face and helped her into his car. “I’d prefer my usual shorts or jeans but they have a dress code at these things.”

  The drive was short and they spent the time discussing the strategy for the evening although she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling her. Trying to calm her nerves, she took several deep breaths and touched up her lip gloss with a shaky hand. So much was riding on tonight and she didn’t want to mess it up.

  “Just relax. Everything is going to be fine. You look amazing and everyone is going to be charmed by you. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

  His pep talk helped slightly but her heart was still racing as he handed the keys to the valet and then took her arm in his, escorting her to the wide front entrance. From what she had seen so far, this had all the markings of the snooty parties she’d attended in the past and for the life of her she couldn’t imagine this man being there of his own free will.

  “You said you’re a member here?”

  The doors whooshed open and they entered a large atrium type foyer with soaring ceilings and plants everywhere. “I am although I rarely come to any of these functions. Mostly I use the membership to play tennis with Josh.”

  They glided through the atrium and into a larger room with a grand chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling and sconces along the walls. A long buffet table with finger foods took up one side of the room while a four-piece string quartet played boring music on the other side. A bar stood at the wall furthest from the door. They made you work for your booze.

  “They do this every week?”

  Heading straight for the bar, Chase didn’t break stride. He must need a drink as badly as she did. “Cocktail hour every Friday night. It’s a tradition.”