I didn’t think it was the time to mention my recent drive-by or car bomb. He looked about two breaths away from walking into traffic. My phone dinged and he rocketed off the couch.
“I think you better go. I gotta... I got things and stuff to do,” he stuttered.
Sebastian turned and waited while I walked onto the porch. The door slammed shut on his heels. My mind whirled with the unexpected turn of events. He’d opened a whole new world of possibilities. No way did Perkins kill anyone. He was losing his mind in there.
I checked my phone. A text from my old office.
Safe on the highway and heading home, Sebastian lifted a fallen spaghetti strap onto my shoulder. His eyes remained on the road. “I think you should stay at Adrian’s tonight.”
My mouth fell open. “You want me to stay with Adrian?”
“Not with him. At his house. I assume he’s not dumb enough to go back there, since the sheriff’s looking for him. Whoever killed the McGees doesn’t even have Adrian on their radar. You, however, definitely are on their radar. You’ll be safe there. I’ll stay in your room. If anyone tries to get to you, they’ll get me.”
A grin lifted half of his face like the Grinch, and I shivered. Danger oozed from his pores. If anyone came after me, I didn’t want to be around.
With Adrian staying in the empty art studio downstairs from my apartment, I could make myself at home in his giant house. The big wraparound porch came to mind. Would Adrian mind if I made myself at home in his place? Probably not. He didn’t seem to think we had any boundaries for some reason.
“Okay. I need to stop at home for some things first and get the golf cart.”
“I’ll drop you at his place.”
“You can follow me, but I need the cart.”
He raised a brow in challenge.
“I’m not a prisoner. I appreciate what you’re doing, but I’m going to have some kind of wheels with me. It’s nonnegotiable. I’ll park in the garage.”
He grunted but pulled up at my apartment a few minutes later. I gathered my things while Sebastian checked every nook and cranny for signs of Adrian.
“What do you think he meant about being downstairs?”
I shrugged. The look on Sebastian’s face said he didn’t believe me. If those two engaged in another kerfuffle, I didn’t want to be around. After I texted the new details to Claire, I returned two e-mails to the old office. No one could find anything there. My old boss had called and hung up. I didn’t return the call. No, my counseling business hadn’t taken off, but it would be a while before I started calling numbers from caller ID to ask what people wanted. If my old boss needed something, like to beg me to come back, he could leave a message. I had my hands full.
“Ready?” Sebastian looked comfortable on the couch. “You know, you don’t have to go. You’d be safe here with me.”
“You’re the one who suggested I stay at Adrian’s.”
He shoved to his feet. “Yes, but I didn’t expect you to leave without a fight. How about...” He cocked a hip out and tossed imaginary hair off his shoulder. “‘No. You’re my hero, Sebastian. I want to be with you because you make me feel safe and happy.’”
“I don’t talk like that.” I made a big arm circle between us. “Or stand like that or toss my hair.”
He tugged my bag over one shoulder and walked out onto the stoop swinging his hips.
“You look ridiculous.” Truth be told, seeing someone as serious as Sebastian pretend to be a woman made it extra funny.
He tucked my bags into the backseat of the cart, strode over to the Range Rover and climbed in.
I cranked the little engine and eased out onto Main Street. The Range Rover tailed me at eight miles per hour all the way to Adrian’s. The sun had dropped low enough to offer some relief, but warm, humid breezes licked my skin as I drove. Not my favorite trade. It was like being inside a giant mouth. The only bonus of the evening was the mouthwatering aromas hanging in the wet, heated air. I passed the minutes trying to name them individually, starting with the obvious buttered scallops and fresh waffle cones then dissecting the muted scents of powdered sugar from the sharp tang of Italian sausage and onions. Before I tackled the kettle corn or elephant ear conundrum, I was at Adrian’s.
Sebastian carried my things to the side door nearest the marsh, under cover of willows and cattails. Dark pillows of gnats floated above the wetland nearby. I stopped to ask how we’d get in, but Sebastian had already gone to work. He slid what looked like a black leather wallet from his pocket and removed a couple of big pins. A moment later, the kitchen door swung open.
“No alarm on a place like this? Stupid.” Sebastian piled my things onto a kitchen island the size of my living room and checked out the house.
“It’s Chincoteague. Nothing happens here.”
He cocked an eyebrow and walked away.
I hated to leave the kitchen. It was something off of HGTV. Forget the wraparound porch, I wanted to live in the kitchen. The refrigerator was bigger than my Prius, but empty. Figured. I guess it was too much to expect he cooked, too.
“I hate this guy.” Sebastian’s voice echoed through the house. I started down a long hallway toward the sound. On the way I passed an open fireplace in the middle of an enormous two-story great room, a wall of windows faced the marsh and a winding staircase. Then I found him.
The first floor master bedroom made the rest of the house look mediocre. A king-sized bed draped in gray and black satin stood atop a two-step platform in the center of the room. A skylight in the cathedral ceiling overhead streamed in shades of pink from the setting sun.
“Look.” Sebastian lifted a remote and a flat-screen television rose from a mahogany stand at the foot of the bed. A moment later the lights dimmed. Then a small corner fireplace flicked on. He tossed the remote onto the bed. “I can’t imagine why you were so eager to stay here. Maybe I should stay with you. For protection.”
“Ha.”
“Fine. I’m going back to your place to try to get attacked so I can break this guy and put the case to rest. Plus, I need to contact the EPA about the dumping and the harbor to find out where Perkins’s old spot was.”
My head fell backward. “I should’ve asked him. Jeez. We were right there and I never thought to ask.”
“I did. I figured he’d lie then tip off whoever he’s got a deal going with.”
“Tap his phone.” We could run back there with one more question then wait to see who he called.
“Not without the proper paperwork. We don’t have anything strong enough to get clearance on that kind of privacy invasion.”
“Fine. Enjoy your vacation.” Dumb rules.
I walked him to the door. He leaned forward and kissed the top of my head. Before pulling away, he breathed against my ear, “Call me if you need anything.” A shiver dropped to my toes and my cheeks caught fire.
By the time my senses returned, Sebastian was long gone. My tummy growled. I considered a trip to the Tasty Cream, but decided I had temporary custody of a kitchen too fabulous to ignore. I grabbed my purse and headed to Frontier Foods, the island’s only grocery.
Twenty minutes later, I had the makings of a feast with all the trimmings. I unloaded my arms onto the counter. The cashier’s eyes widened when she saw me. Did she recognize me? I didn’t recognize her. The family in front of me paid for a stack of fixings big enough for a great cookout, while I ran through a mental list of ways I might know the cashier. I came up empty.
My mind wouldn’t stop working on more pressing issues. What kind of coldblooded killer bothered to whisper his threats to me? He’d had me alone. I was in his hands, yet he didn’t kill me. The thought he knew me personally had taken up root in my brain. If we weren’t connected somehow, I’d be dead. Wouldn’t I? I’d run through a lengthy list of old teachers, coa
ches, friends of my parents, trying to label one a killer. I couldn’t. Now I had new information to deal with. This threat-maker/killer moonlighted as an ocean contaminator and he had enough money to pay off Perkins and McGee. I didn’t know anyone like that. Did I?
“Patience Price?” The lady behind the counter smiled.
I was up. “Yes.”
She burst into tears.
“Um.” I looked around, nervous to discover no one in sight. No one. I patted her shoulder across the conveyor belt. “It’s okay. Hey, don’t cry. I don’t have to buy all this junk.” I had picked up way too many desserts. Stress eating.
She lifted a package onto the scanner. Beep. “It’s my dog.”
“I’m sorry?” I cocked an eyebrow.
Beep. She shoved the peppers and bruschetta into a paper sack. “He ran away when I was working in the garden last month. He never came back, and I think he might be lost in the national park.”
My heart clenched. Did horses eat puppies? No. They could kick him, though. I bet they’d kick him for being on their turf. “I’m sure he’s fine. No one’s found him?”
“No.” Sniff. Sniff. Beep. “I put signs up everywhere. What if a tourist took him home?”
Or he drowned in the ocean. “I’m sure he’s fine. You need to stay strong for him.”
Her eyes widened. “Yes.” Beep. Beep. She slid the Oreos in beside the Nutter Butters. “I do need to be strong for him. I’m off tomorrow. I should pack his favorite treats and go door to door looking for him.”
“I bet he’d appreciate that. No matter what happens, you’ll know you did all you could.”
She nodded in acceptance. We shook hands. “I’m Melissa.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I fished a pack of travel tissues from my purse.
“Have a nice night.” She packed the eggs and bread on top and turned to leave her station.
“But...” I took the packages, wondering if I’d just made a friend or met a patient.
“It’s on me.” She smiled sweetly, wiping tears. “Thank you. Everyone around here’s right about you. You’re sweet. I hope people will stop shooting at you soon.”
“Me, too.” I raised my hand and started for the door. A wave of guilt crashed over me. I turned back for the counter and extended the cookie bag in her direction. “Did your puppy like cookies?”
“Y-y-yes.” She burst into sobs and I wrapped an arm around her.
When I finally walked outside, it was dark. I approached the cart with trepidation, watching under it as I got closer. No bad guys in the backseat. I climbed in and my hand slid over something disgusting.
“Ah!” I jumped out, wiping my hands on my shorts, praying it wasn’t blood. I dashed to the window of the store and examined my hand. Nothing. For a minute I wondered if a bird bombed me. I clicked my phone into flashlight mode and went back to the cart.
Eggs.
Someone had egged my cart while I was buying dinner. Every square inch of the seat was smeared in slick, clear slime and yellow goo. Cracked shells stuck to every surface. I turned the phone over to call Sebastian, and the light caught something else.
Someone had spray-painted Whore on the hood. Home Wrecker extended around the driver side to the back bumper. I choked. Home Wrecker? Seriously? I snapped a few pictures and sent them to Sebastian. My life was ridiculous wrapped in impossible. Mary Franks had lost her mind. Apparently Hank hadn’t come clean and admitted to seeing me for therapy. I couldn’t tell her he was a patient. I took an oath. Confidentiality was paramount to counselors.
The minute my life wasn’t in danger, I was registering those two with a family plan.
Chapter Sixteen
I woke to the sounds of an intruder. My unfamiliar surroundings disarmed me. Hurrying to hide, I tangled and slid in the masses of silk sheets. My legs were pinned, and the floor wasn’t where it should be. I tumbled onto the floor, bouncing against the two steps below the bed. Ouch! Wide awake and sore, a shock of recollection brought my life back in focus.
Hooray! I knew where I was.
Boo! I still heard the intruder.
Scrambling to my feet, I ducked behind the door and listened, hoping to localize the sounds and form a plan. Running water set the backdrop. Sizzling punctuated the white noise of the sink, and scents of coffee and bacon danced down the hall. The intruder was making breakfast. I eased from my hideout and braved the hall.
Whistling drifted along with the scrumptious smells.
“Hello?” I wrapped my arms across my middle, hoping it was Sebastian and not a cooking killer.
“Remember when we used to play house?” Adrian flipped a pancake over his massive silver stovetop. “I always knew I’d make you breakfast one day. How’d you sleep?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I live here. What are you doing here?” He wiped his hands onto a towel on the counter and moved in my direction. The ridiculous dimple I’d kissed a thousand times made an appearance.
“Hiding. Sebastian thought I’d be safe here. He’s sleeping in my bed, hoping the bad guy will go there to attack me.”
Adrian frowned.
“Do you mind if I stay here?” I asked.
“Of course not. Sit. Eat.” He returned to the counter, dished out bacon and pancakes for two and then poured coffee into twin mugs.
“Thanks.” I sat down on a stool at the kitchen’s island, wishing he hadn’t mentioned us playing house. We set up house under my parent’s home every day after school until fifth grade. I was the wife, and he was the husband. I made him sand pies and he kissed my cheeks the way we watched Dad kiss Mom every day. My gut twisted. I needed a subject change.
“We talked to Perkins.”
“I heard.” He pulled out a stool beside me and dug in. “Your roommate filled me in last night.”
“Ah.” Images of the fight I’d broken up between the two men flashed through my mind. I gulped the coffee. “How did that go?”
“You were wrong. He isn’t any fun, but we came to an agreement.”
“Which is what?” I couldn’t imagine what they might agree on. Pistols at sunrise came to mind.
“We both want you safe. We both want to know what’s going on with the dumping and why the McGees had to die over it. Once you figure that out, I’ll turn myself in.”
He looked more confident than I felt. No big deal. Have some pancakes, solve some murders.
“Your phone hasn’t stopped dancing,” he said.
My phone buzzed in a small circle on vibrate. I couldn’t believe I left it on the counter all night. I usually slept with it on the nightstand. Good thing I hadn’t needed to call 911. I lifted it to check messages.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” What kind of people would keep calling their predecessor for help doing her old job? Rude didn’t begin to cover it.
“So, what’s the plan?” Adrian ran his empty plate under water. “Your guard dog didn’t have a lot of answers.”
“What makes you think I do?”
“You’re always plotting something.”
“Am not.”
He stopped and turned to stare.
Fine. “Do you happen to know where Brady and Perkins used to fish until a couple of months ago?”
“Why? Are you planning to scuba dive and strap the toxic barrels to your back?”
“He told you about the barrels?” It didn’t seem like Sebastian to share information with Adrian, especially when he didn’t trust him. Or maybe he knew about the barrels because he was involved. I set my fork down and swallowed hard.
“I might’ve overheard him on the phone.”
And he also might’ve been dumping them himself. Maybe that’s what brought him back to the island.
I looked at
my phone again, pretending to check the time. “Shoot. You’d better scram. Sebastian’s meeting me here.”
He looked at me, his expression wary. “McGee fished out by the Saturday night spot.” I blushed. I’d spent plenty of Saturday nights with Adrian at that spot, many of them skinny-dipping. “Thanks. I’ll check it out.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the top of my head and let himself out the side door. “Don’t trash the place. Here’s a key. Don’t leave the house unlocked anymore.” He flicked a key dangling from a hook beside the door.
I’d had to leave the house unlocked when I went for groceries or I wouldn’t have been able to get back in.
The minute he disappeared I ran to get dressed, then grabbed the oldest-looking towel I could find and slung it over one shoulder. I also texted Sebastian to let him know I was heading to my parents’. Once I dropped the cart off there, I wasn’t driving it anymore. Ever.
On the way out, I locked up, checked the knob twice and wondered if Adrian would be back. Had he been here all night? How’d he know it was unlocked while I was at the grocery unless he walked in during that time? I unraveled a few feet of garden hose from the side of Adrian’s house and turned the knob. Bracing myself for the strongest spray I could create, I hosed busted shells and egg from the cart. What appeared to be raccoon scat triggered my gag reflex. There was little to be done about the graffiti. I hung up the hose and rubbed the towel over the seat before climbing aboard. The golf cart purred to life and floated down the quiet streets.
Keeping my chin high on Main Street wasn’t easy. Not in a purple golf cart with WHORE on the hood. Heads turned and cell phones appeared. Safe to assume half called to report my profanity mobile and the other half snapped pictures. I was sure to be tomorrow’s front page news—again. Mom started a collection after the drive-by shooting. The car bomb made two articles for her scrapbook. Home wrecker should make three. If counseling failed, I’d try my hand at local celebrity.
Mom stood on the sidewalk outside The Pony, chattering into her phone as she waited on me. When she saw me, she laughed. The cart stopped right in front of her, and she ran to give me a hug.
Murder by the Seaside Page 18