“Are you alright?” His voice vibrated in his chest.
I wanted to nuzzle against him. Thoughts inappropriate to our ridiculous and complicated relationship popped into mind like the whack-a-mole game at the local fair. Suppress one, another appears.
“Put me down,” I blurted. “I’m fine. I can walk.” I couldn’t feel my legs, but I hated being carried. Okay. I hated that I liked being carried.
“No.”
“What? No?”
“No.” His pace didn’t change. “You need water, food and to be out of the sun.”
I struggled a minute.
His grip tightened. “Hold still.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not. You wore your lunch today instead of eating it. You aren’t sleeping. The stress you’re under is too much. Plus, it’s hot. This mess Adrian dragged you into is taking a toll. I hold him personally responsible for everything that’s happened to you since you moved back here.” We reached the car and he shifted my weight against his side and dug in his pocket with one hand. I considered letting go of his neck. Instead of opening the door, he set me on the hood and got a bottle of water from the cup holder. He opened it before handing it to me.
I took a few ginger sips.
“You’re flushed. It’s hot.” He nodded to the bottle in my hand. “Are you finished?”
I gave it to him.
He dumped it over my head.
“Yow!”
Sebastian snapped the wetted tee away from my skin a few times. That cooled everything down.
I hoped it didn’t show.
“Better?” His gleaming white smile captivated me again. A tiny drip of water worked its way over my nose and he swiped it away with his thumb.
Laughter bubbled in my chest and I smiled back. Who knew he was funny? Or so ornery?
“Patience?”
I shook water from my bangs to look at him.
His smile morphed into something darker, needier. Without another word, Sebastian slid one strong arm around my waist and pulled me to the edge of the hood. My knees moved on instinct to accommodate him. He cradled the back of my head in his palm and closed the narrow distance between us. His thumb caressed my cheek with a gentleness so contradictory to everything I knew about him, I sighed. Sebastian’s lips moved over mine, and I melted deep into the kiss.
Before I was ready, he broke away. Our breaths mingled as he rested his forehead to mine. A groan rumbled deep and low in his chest.
“Now I need a bottle of water.” A boyish gleam played over his features. I liked the look.
“I know where we can find a whole lot of water.” Sounds of the surf whispered in the distance. I jumped off the hood and Sebastian ran around to the driver’s side. Five minutes later we were splashing in the ocean beside a dozen children and nervous-looking parents.
I dunked under the water, feeling the pull of weight from my light cotton clothes. At least we’d tugged our shoes off before running into the surf like a couple of teens. Sebastian stripped his shirt overhead, too, leaving it with our shoes. I didn’t have the same luxury.
“Who knew you were fun?” I teased.
“Back at you, boss.”
“Touché.” I licked my lips, still tingling from our kiss. “Race you.”
Sebastian looked toward the buoy thirty yards away. Overconfidence changed his expression. Taunting him would’ve wasted time when my muscles twitched to swim. Swimming was all me. I turned and dove under the next wave rolling in.
I pulled myself up to the buoy, feeling young and vivacious. In the water, I was fast and powerful, sleek and...too slow. Sebastian looked as if he’d been waiting on me.
“How did you beat me?”
He pointed to a line of Indian ink up his side. I’d seen it the day he arrived but hadn’t wanted to stare. From our position in the water, I could only make out the top. When I squinted, he pushed back in the water, floating before me, arms overhead. What looked like nothing more than barbed wire before registered as letters. Seal Team 10.
“Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Nope.”
“Must be nice.”
“It is.” He swept upright, dazzling me with a sincere smile, one he rarely gave. Out here he didn’t need to blend in, save my life or watch his back. Out here, with just me, him and a buoy, things were different. “Race you back?”
I didn’t want to go back. “Yeah.”
He beat me again.
We sat in the sand until I was dry and pink from the sun, the kind of pink that turned a pretty bronze with cool air and aloe. Sebastian helped a kid dig a hole with a green bucket, and they watched it fill with water from below. The kid looked like he’d found a new best friend. When he came back to me, he was tired.
“I love those guys.” Sebastian lifted a lazy finger toward a lone Sandpiper running away from the tide. The water receded; he ran back to look for food. A new wave slid in and the piper headed for dry land again.
“They’re my favorites,” I said.
His smile widened as he kept watch on the bird.
Sandpipers had fascinated me since childhood. The way their stick thin legs carried their stout little bodies back and forth a million times without tiring. It was comical to watch and inspiring. They were the definition of fortitude. The waves kept coming. The little birds kept running.
“About the kiss,” I said before I lost my nerve.
“You regret it already?”
“No.” What? Maybe.
“You want to do it again?”
My heart beat in my throat at the offer. Did I look crazy? Of course I wanted to do it again. “No.”
He chuckled. “Let me know when you do.” He stood and reached to pull me up. “Let’s get a shower, some dinner and go see Perkins. If he’s still alive maybe we can get some information out of him. He’s most likely to be the next victim, if he’s not the killer. Either way, I’m on borrowed time, and I can’t leave you alone while I go chase a crime family on the mainland. Let’s wrap this up.”
“A shower sounds amazing.” Visiting Perkins, on the other hand, sounded like stupidity. At least I wasn’t going alone.
“We’ll stop at the Tasty Cream. I’ll run in and get dinner. We can take it back to your apartment to save time.”
I nodded. I didn’t want to go in anywhere looking like a drowned and fried rat. “How did you end up in the Seals? Family legacy?”
Sebastian snorted. “No.”
“Oh. Then why?” He’d been through so much when he could’ve been a frat kid, or a model.
“To piss off my old man. Turned out, I liked the military.”
“Okay, but a Seal?” I saw G.I Jane. I knew that was a crazy endeavor.
He popped open the passenger door and I slid in. Sebastian gripped the roof over my head and dipped his head in an inch.
“I like a challenge.”
He shut the door and I jumped.
“Did it work? Was your dad mad you joined the service?”
He folded in behind the wheel and wedged an elbow over my headrest to look behind him. Backing up, he raised his brows at me. “No.”
“Clearly he’s crazy then.”
“Clearly. What do your parents think of your life?”
“They want me to read Tarot cards for them at their shop.”
“Have they met you?” He drove out of the national park and back into town as if he’d lived there for years. In a week he’d gone from untouchable crush to friend. Who kissed me. There was something about island life that made all things better. Except for the killer.
I smiled at him as he pulled into the lot at the Tasty Cream. “I guess when it comes to me, they always have hope I’ll see what they see.”
Sebastian opened the door and was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
I held my breath the entire way to Perkins’s house. When my chest burned from lack of oxygen, I took a sip of air and went back to silent panic mode. With each passing moment of silence, I was further convinced Perkins was the culprit. Now that the McGees were out of his way, the business was his to run as he pleased, without splitting profits and without interference of a fish-protecting Mrs. McGee.
I hoped he wasn’t day drinking again. The cut of my sundress was intended for Sebastian, not a greasy murder suspect. The thin white fabric enhanced my tan, and in the right light, silhouetted my figure. So far the effort seemed lost. If Sebastian noticed, he didn’t let on. Perkins would notice. He’d barely looked at my face last time I saw him, despite the fact I was splattered in paint. At least I’d brought backup this time. If the creeper tried anything, he’d regret it.
“You’re nervous.” Sebastian looked my way often enough to make me fidget.
I pulled in a deep breath that shuddered on its way out of my chest. “He had a lot to gain from their deaths.”
“Yeah.”
The Range Rover slid into the drive behind Perkins’s shiny black car. I jumped out and ran around to hide behind Sebastian, who wedged a pair of cuffs in his waistband. His lips twitched, never quite forming a smile. “After you.”
Damn chivalry. I baby-stepped in front of him, wondering what to say when Perkins opened his door. Sebastian whistled behind me. I peeked over one shoulder. He stared straight ahead. Stupid glasses. I couldn’t wait for summer to end so I could at least get a good look at his eyes. Who could guess what the man was thinking behind those glasses?
This assumed that we’d keep in touch after the summer.
And we’d both still be alive.
I lifted a hand to knock on Perkins’s door and froze. My fist hovered over the wood. Did I really have to visit a killer? Maybe I could go home and call, or shoot him an e-mail. Sebastian pounded the door knocker, and I jumped.
“You talk. I’ll watch.” Sebastian folded his hands behind his back and widened his stance. His gun was nestled in the small of his back. I’d watched him slide the holster on his belt right before the handcuffs. Weapons didn’t make me more confident this conversation would end well.
“Hello there.” Perkins opened the door wide and took me in with red eyes. He licked his lips in approval.
Yuck. “Hi, Mr. Perkins. May we come in?”
The smile faded when his gaze made it over my head half a foot. “What’s this about?”
“Did you kill Brady McGee and his wife?” I blurted.
If he did, I didn’t want to go inside.
He stumbled back a few paces and motioned us in. Not what I expected. A guilty man would’ve protested or slammed the door in my face. Sebastian stopped in the doorway, allowing me to take the lead and interview Perkins on my own. He widened his stance and crossed both arms over his massive chest. I sat on the couch while Perkins poured a drink. A tremor played over his hand, sloshing amber liquid inside his glass.
“Mr. Perkins, are you feeling all right?”
His head snapped up, as if he’d forgotten I was there. “You think I had something to do with their deaths?” He looked warily in Sebastian’s direction.
“The last time I was here, you told me Brady fought with a woman the night he died. She told me you fought with him, too. About money. It seems to me you now have the business all to yourself.”
“The last time you were here?”
“Yes.” It hadn’t been a full week yet. Was he buying time or did he truly not recognize me?
He tried to snap his fingers and failed. “I remember. You didn’t look like that.” He finished his drink and waggled his eyebrows.
Sebastian made a noise I hoped was throat clearing and not the growl it sounded like.
Perkins dragged his gaze back to my face. “What’s he here for?”
I looked to Sebastian for help, but he maintained the blank expression behind his sunglasses. He looked like a mammoth blocking the door. The sight of him at the office used to both scare and thrill me. He came to work dressed all in black, like he was ready for surveillance or combat, usually with cargo pants. The pants kept me up nights wondering what he kept in his pockets. Sebastian made his superiors fumble for words. Intimidation was his specialty. After watching him dig a hole with a toddler, I expected to be less intimidated. A wave of goose bumps raised on my arms.
“We’re trying to keep an innocent man out of jail,” I said. “We know Adrian Davis didn’t kill Brady McGee, and we think you know who did.”
“I don’t know anything, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell the two of you.” He pointed his glass at each of us.
“Well, I suppose that’s what I’d have said if I was you, too.”
He looked back at me.
“Until the real killer killed Mrs. McGee. Now, if I was you, I’d be wondering how long before I was reunited with my partner.”
His Adam’s apple dipped low and slow.
“We were taking payoffs.” His gaze darted back and forth between Sebastian and me. “I don’t know where they came from. A goon approached us a couple of years ago and told us he wanted to fish in our territory. We told him to forget about it.”
Finally, this was something. At least he was talking. “Payoffs to fish.” I shook my head. “It’s a big ocean, Mr. Perkins. I don’t buy it.”
“I didn’t either. Brady laughed it off, too, but then the guy came back. With cash.”
“Who was he?”
“A goon. A gofer. I don’t know. It’s not like we signed a contract. He didn’t look like a fisherman.”
“What’d he look like?”
Perkins shrugged with attitude. “Big clothes. Earrings. A punk. One with cash.”
“How much cash?”
He walked to the desk and brought a bottle back with him. “Five grand.”
“He paid you five thousand dollars to fish in your spot.” Maybe I needed to take up fishing.
Perkins licked his lips, sucked on the bottle and wiped his mouth on his arm. “At first.”
“I’m listening.”
“Well, we had a good spot. We weren’t catching enough in the new spot, and Brady’s old lady was raising tons of hell about us trolling near her precious shoreline. We wanted our old spot back. It wasn’t an easy choice. They paid us another grand every month to steer clear of them. Brady said it was wrapped in plastic and delivered to our box at the harbor. He’d open the bag and split it with me. That part of the deal was good, but this year we were losing that much in lack of fish by being shoved ashore so long. The good fishing is deeper, out where we’d been. You can’t catch nothing but flip-flops up close like that. We figured that other boat didn’t stay in our spot twenty-four-seven, so we started watching from a distance, waiting for him to clear out so we could sneak in.” His knee bounced. A bead of sweat ran over his temple.
The anticipation killed me. “The goon saw you creeping back to your spot and got angry?”
Perkins shook his head. Desperation covered his features. Why was he taking so long to spit it out? I wanted to shake his shoulders.
“You went out to your spot,” I guessed. “He came fishing and found you already there, breaking your deal, poaching his fish.”
“They weren’t fishing, they were—” A bout of coughing cut the sentence short.
Come on, man! I jumped to my feet and ran to the kitchen for a glass of water. Slapping open cupboard after cupboard, I yanked the first mug I saw off a shelf and shoved it under the tap. “I’m coming. Hold that thought.”
I dashed back into the front room. Sebastian’s lips pulled down at the corners. I had no idea what he
made of all this.
“You could take your shades off. We are inside a house.” My frustration level beat like a neon red TILT sign in my head.
“They’re intimidating,” Sebastian replied in a voice two octaves lower than normal.
“They are,” Perkins wheezed in agreement.
I jammed the mug in his hand, pointed a finger and circled my wrist in the universal wrap-it-up signal. What happened with the other boat? If they weren’t fishing, why did they pay for a spot on the water?
“Dumping.”
“Ew.” I turned to see Sebastian hide a smile under his fist.
“Not dumping,” Perkins struggled to find his voice once more. “Dumping. They were lowering giant black barrels into the water. There must’ve been a dozen of them.”
“What’d you do? Did they catch you watching them? Did you tell the sheriff?”
“No. Brady insisted we let it go. I said we could turn them in and get our spot back, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I knew we could get triple our monthly paycheck if they knew we knew they weren’t fishing. Brady said his wife would throw a shit fit. Said if she started up protests because boats were fishing too close to shore, what would she do if she knew we took payoffs so some guy could dump who knows what out there?”
“You wanted to tell anyway.”
“Yeah, I wanted to tell.”
That explained the opinion of the girlfriend. Perkins did want more money, but not from Brady. Still, Brady was the one standing in the way.
“Did you want to up your pay bad enough to kill your partner?”
“What?” Deep in thought, Perkins ran a palm over the top of his head. “No. I wouldn’t kill Brady. I didn’t.” His knee bobbed into warp speed.
“You think the other boat knows you saw what they were up to and now they’re taking out those who could turn them in for dumping?”
He shrugged, jerking his shoulders up and down. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know what to think or what’s going on. One minute we got a good thing going. The next minute people are dying.”
Murder by the Seaside Page 17