“What does the sheriff say?” Claire scooted to the edge of the couch and pushed up onto her feet. She looked cute in my yellow sundress.
“I didn’t mention it. It’s just a hunch, and the sheriff doesn’t want to hear from me.”
“He really doesn’t like you. What’s that about?” Claire asked. She returned with two more drinks and set them on the coffee table in front of us.
Memories raced through my mind. “I wasn’t always what you’d call a law-abiding citizen.” I sucked on the straw in the glass Claire had given me. “I had a couple of tough years.”
“How many?”
“Five.”
Sebastian snorted. Claire drew out a long, “Mmmmmmm.”
“Once I figured out I liked order and structure and facts, I had a problem with my parents’ lifestyle. I rebelled a bit. Sheriff Murray was a deputy back then, so he had to deal with me. Aside from wasting his time for five years straight, chasing me off the water tower and bringing me in for skinny-dipping, he had my parents to answer to.”
“They were mad?” Disbelief colored Claire’s voice.
“No. They were disappointed the sheriff would send him out to stifle my creativity and self-expression. He hauled me in and they called his boss to complain.”
“Do you still express yourself with public nudity?” Sebastian wondered.
I rolled my eyes.
Claire cackled and grabbed one of the drinks from the table. Her laughter set off mine and vice versa. Like tumbling dominoes, the giggles built and carried on until I was spent.
Ding-dong.
Holding my side with one hand, I put the second empty glass on the table. Sebastian handed me some cash and helped me haul in the pizzas.
“Your adolescent misadventures explain his attitude.” Sebastian folded a piece of pizza in half and carried it on a napkin back to where he’d been sitting on the floor.
“Senior year I tried everything I could think of to get my parents to crack down on me. They never did. Eventually I gave up, but not before I broke into the deputy’s cruiser, put it in neutral and rolled it to the station. The next morning he woke up in a tizzy and reported it stolen. The whole island heard about it. He had to walk to the police station since he’d driven the cruiser home. His car was there. The old sheriff was embarrassed. Murray knew I did it but couldn’t prove it. We were careful to wear all black and never look up in case of cameras. There weren’t any, of course, but I’d watched enough crime shows to know looking up was dumb.”
“We?” Sebastian locked eyes with me and waited.
“Adrian and I.”
He shifted on the floor without speaking.
Claire patted my knee. “Eat. This pizza is delicious. I swear food tastes better here.”
“Yeah.”
An hour later we had circled back to the matter of figuring out who was killing people before he killed again.
“Well, I’m here until Monday.” Sebastian’s voice held a new tenor. “We need to get to the bottom of this before then.”
“What if we don’t?” Considering the stellar job I’d done so far, faith in my investigation skills was lacking.
“Then you’ll need to stay with your parents or with Claire for a while. You aren’t safe here. That’s been proven again and again.”
“I’m not leaving the island, and I’m not endangering my parents, either.”
“You’re welcome at my place anytime for as long as you’d like. You know that.” Claire rolled onto her side and tucked the little gold pillow under her head. “Right now, I am full and tired and probably going to dream about that golf cart.”
I tossed an afghan over her and shuffled toward my room. Sebastian followed.
“Where are you going?” I leaned against the wall and looked up at him.
“You’re not going anywhere alone for the next two days. While I’m here, I’m keeping an eye on you. I’ll be gone soon. Until then, consider yourself under my watch.”
I didn’t hate it.
“So you’re sleeping in my room?”
“On the floor, but yes. And not yet. You’ve had a rough couple of days. Mine weren’t so exciting. Care if I use your laptop?”
“No.”
I pulled spare blankets and pillows from the closet and handed them over. He made up a bed under the infamous window and stripped off his shirt. Then he put the gun under his pillow and lowered himself onto the makeshift bed beside mine.
I crawled into bed and worried I might snore. After flipping off the light on my nightstand, I curled up under the sheet. Yes, I could sleep well with Sebastian at my side. Everything inside me unwound.
“How serious were you and the suspect?” Sebastian’s voice punctured the dark.
“Adrian?” When he didn’t correct me, I assumed I won the prize. “Serious.”
“You’re sure he’s innocent? Because you’re right, something bigger is at work here. What if he’s part of it? Could you handle that?”
“He’s not. He wants to know what’s going on just as much as I do.”
Silence.
I bit my lip. I’d practically admitted to talking with Adrian.
“Do you still have feelings for him?” Curiosity leaked through his words. He’d let his guard down. Only a little. But his perfected stoic tone was gone. Not an accident. He let me know he wanted to know.
“He was my first love.”
Sebastian grunted.
“I was a different person then. It was a long time ago. I grew up. Settled down. I’m all right with my parents being themselves, and I’m all right with who I am, too. It took me awhile to figure out who I was, but I like this girl.”
“Me, too.”
“Thanks.”
“I know you saw a lot of things in my personnel file I don’t like to talk about. I want you to know, I’m glad you know those things, and I like that you’ve never asked me about them.”
All his secrets were in a personnel file, and I’d read it. Interesting. I didn’t have a file. The only person who knew all my secrets was Adrian.
The only man to capture my attention in the last ten years was lying on the floor in my bedroom, and he wanted me to know his secrets.
“I also know Claire told you more than she should about the bust and my new situation. I appreciate you not pushing for details on that, either.”
“You can stay here as long as you need to. Chincoteague’s a little loopy, but it’s normally a nice refuge.”
“I’m fine. I need to get back in a couple of days and sort out my loose ends. You know this island loves you? I’ve been here less than a week and everywhere I go, people ask about you. They tell me stories about you. They missed you while you were gone. Whatever trouble you got into all those years ago, everyone but the sheriff has gotten past it. And your parents...” He paused. “I can’t figure them out.”
“If you ever do, let me know.”
“They look at me like I’m about to steal something.”
“You did show up out of the blue and move in with their only daughter.”
He grunted. “You’ve got a great family. All twelve hundred or so members. You’re like an island princess here.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious.”
For the first time I realized how much I didn’t know about Sebastian. What was his life like before the file?
Chapter Thirteen
“You don’t need to follow me everywhere.” I picked up large pieces of glass and stacked them inside an empty box. “I feel horrible. You finally have time off work and end up looking after someone anyway.” Hiding out from a Mob family was stressful enough.
“It doesn’t feel like work. I like it here.” Sebastian dumped a dustpan full off
glass in the trash and strode through the rat door to the dock out back.
He never took time off. Ever. And it worried me that he was hiding out with me instead of figuring out his next move with Jimmy the Judge out there. I grabbed the broom, and surveyed our cleanup efforts. Aside from the broken glass and the myriad creatures who’d taken a lap through my office after the windows broke, things looked good. The paint was rich and warm. Hope lifted in my heart. My office had potential. The lunatic who shot it up would be caught soon. Sebastian would see to it.
As long as we figured out who he was in the next twenty-four hours.
“This is beautiful.” Sebastian’s voice carried through the open door.
“It’s rotting.” I assumed he was talking about the deck. “Watch where you step.”
“I meant the view.”
Unable to contain my curiosity, I walked through the door to his side. Weathered boards groaned under my added weight. Cattails clustered at the corner of the dock, tall grasses swayed in the midday breeze, and still waters reflected a mirror image of geese flying in V-formation overhead. Their steady honk, honk, honk, settled my pulse. I hadn’t realized I was anxious until the stress rippled off me at the sound of the geese. The briny air assured me I was home. I could get used to the view. A small unused portion of the harbor ended at my dock. The water brimmed with cattails and duckweed. From the looks of it, no boat had been here in years. Land was taking over the water, planting flora around the dock and into the shallow water. A gorgeous metallic green and purple dragonfly buzzed past my head.
“I’m trying to imagine what it must’ve been like growing up here. Tightknit community, island life, fishermen, fresh seafood, quiet...” He gave me his trademark guarded look, searching me silently. “It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
“Your parents are fun, yeah?” His expression softened and so did my heart.
“For sure. They’re a blast.” I bumped my shoulder into him and laughed.
“They answer some questions I had about you, that’s for sure.”
I squinted into the sun, trying to read his face, embracing the new easiness between us. “What questions?”
He stalled long enough to make me wonder if he’d answer. “The way you pack seeds and sprouts in your lunch, for one. Or your obsession with recycling everything. You keep your desk pens in an empty soup can.”
“Recycling will save the earth.” I stalled my lecture at the sight of his smile.
“You bring your seed lunch in a cloth bag and lidded glass containers. You have a tiny herb garden near the picnic tables outside the office. You drink wheat grass juice.”
“Wheat grass provides lots of health benefits,” I teased. Maybe I was more like my parents than I knew.
Sebastian froze and his smile disappeared. He made a signal I didn’t recognize with his fist and moved toward the door.
I backed up against the wall and stayed put while he crept through the door, gun drawn. I checked the water for a clear spot to jump overboard.
“Company.” Sebastian jerked his head. Beyond the rat door, Hank meandered outside the wide open window holes.
“Hi, Hank.” I walked back through the boathouse and shoved the front door wide in invitation.
Sebastian stayed behind.
“You’ve got a mess going here, but the door’s looking good.” He pulled on and shoved the doorknob in one hand, admiring his work.
I remembered what my mother said about my counseling services and tried out the new possibility. “You do fine work.” I bent to empty the trash and replace the bag. “What brings you by?”
“I figured you needed help.” He ran a handkerchief over his forehead then stuffed it in his pocket.
“I do. It’s very kind to offer, thank you.”
He bobbed his head.
“Where should we start?” I grabbed the broom and looked around. The inside looked pretty good, considering. I swept a few shards of glass into my dustpan.
“I guess I’ll clean up a bit out front so they can work.” He looked over one shoulder and closed the door behind him.
Outside the giant delivery truck had returned. Beep. Beep. Beep. It backed up to the curb, and the same man from a few days before slid out onto the sidewalk. He looked at his clipboard, at the boathouse then back at the clipboard and shook his head.
“Mrs. Davis?” He rubbed his neck with his free hand.
“Yes?” I spoke through the missing window hole. The fact I answered so easily to “Mrs. Davis” was something worth thinking about later. Or never. Never ever.
“You got some new windows coming.” His brows crowded together. Behind him a pair of guys in coveralls carried the first plane of glass toward us.
I signed my fake name and went back to sweeping.
“Peepee!”
Dad’s voice scared the air out of me.
“Let me do that. You’re going to get cut.” He took the broom and dustpan from me without further warning. As a child, I always thought my parents materialized rather than arrived anywhere. Maybe there was something to that theory.
Mom sashayed through the door with an oversized picnic basket swinging in the crook of her arm. I kissed her cheek and went outside to check on Hank, who was picking up pieces of glass and my Prius. Counseling without counseling wasn’t something I could get my mind around, but I knew I had to at least be with the patient to be useful.
“I appreciate the help, Hank. I’m not off to a great start with the boathouse.”
“You’re doing fine.”
I tried to make eye contact without success. Instead, I turned to pull weeds. We worked in companionable silence for several minutes.
“How are you doing?” I was careful to keep my voice level.
“Good. I’m good.” His head bobbed and he moved a few feet away from me. “My wife was pretty upset last time I came home from here. I took your advice and tried to show her she was the only woman for me, since she never believes it when I say it.”
“She wasn’t happy?” I remembered how excited he’d been to go home and woo her into understanding his love.
“Nope.” He rested on his knees in the grass, lifting half of my rearview mirror and a spattering of rubber shreds into a trash bag. “She accused me of feeling guilty for something. I told her what I was doing, but she accused me of cheating and said I was trying to cover it up.” The timbre of his voice broke my heart.
“Hang in there. Relationships aren’t easy.”
“Hank, Patience, come on in. I made lunch.” Mom waved wildly from the boathouse door ten feet away.
How could I be taken seriously with my mom calling me to lunch?
Hank headed inside first. I dawdled. It wasn’t easy to go inside. I worried for the safety of the accumulating vehicles out front, but my resolve melted when scents of Mom’s cobbler wafted out to meet me.
Clipboard guy and the glass carriers sat on empty five-gallon paint buckets eating salmon and asparagus. Mom had lined the contents of her basket up on my counter and dished several plates out like a buffet. Sebastian grabbed two and met me at the door.
The floor was clear of glass and my new windows looked great. The strange lunch gathering tugged at my chest. My parents fawned over one another and served lunch to Hank and the complete strangers from the glass company. Sebastian hung back a little. No one else seemed to notice, but I did. The chatter turned to laughter as the group enjoyed the impromptu lunch break. I didn’t even know half the people present, but they were all there to help me. I was humbled.
“This place cleaned up nice.” Clipboard guy shoveled his second helping of salmon into an already full mouth. “I used to come here to buy a fishing license every summer.”
“Really? I don’t remember that.” I had few memories of the boat
house. The park outside the boathouse, yes, but the not the boathouse.
“That’s because we don’t believe in fishing.” Mom looked proud of her stand on animal protection. Never mind the salmon.
“What is it you’re going to do here?” Hank asked.
I stopped mid-chew to look between him and my mother. Was I not counseling him?
“Um...”
“The windows look great. When did you have time to order them?” Sebastian leaned into the wall with one hip, apparently enjoying Mom’s cobbler.
“Err...”
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
At the sound, I dropped to the floor, landing on top of my plate. My pulse beat in my head. Fear constricted my chest until it burned. No one else moved for a few long beats.
“Honey?” Mom’s feet came into view. I lifted my head and shoulders, drowning in humiliation. She smiled warmly, concern crinkled the corners of her eyes.
Hank jumped to his feet and strode to the door. “See what I mean about her?” he asked before ripping the front door open. “What is wrong with you?” he yelled through the open door.
I dared a look in the direction of my new friend and handyman. Eggs were smashed over my new window. Inside, six pairs of eye were trained on me.
“No-good cheater!” a woman screamed outside. Hank’s wife, I presumed. Reality slid into place though the haze of my fear. Hank’s jealous wife had found him here with me and egged my office.
An engine roared to life outside. Tires barked and screeched into the distance.
Shiny black boots came into view, stopping beside my Mom. Sebastian squatted before me, hands hanging loosely between his knees. “You okay, boss?”
“Of course.” I jerked upright. Mom’s salmon clung to my shirt. Asparagus spears left butter sauce on my cheek. “I slipped.”
Logically, I recognized the mess on my windows was only eggs. Irrationally, I saw little grenades glaring through the thin layer of glass separating me from whoever wanted to hurt me. I didn’t believe in coincidence. I could no longer avoid facts. My life was in danger. Someone had threatened me not-too-subtly by shooting my car and later bombing it. Someone had broken into my apartment and held me hostage. Likely the same one who murdered Brady McGee and his wife. It was only a matter of time before this monster tired of threats and eliminated his problem. Me.
Murder by the Seaside Page 15