Murder by the Seaside

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  Zzzzzip! Whizzz! Zing! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Of all the ways to die! I’d go out with a bang, he said. My heart leapt in my chest as the words grew roots. I motored over the floor, lifted to my feet, turned around and tried the door. Locked. “Ahh!” I screeched into my barfy sock. How could I contend with the stupid lock when my fingers were still behind me and one lifeless arm screamed with every movement and jostle? I concentrated on my good hand, pinching the tiny knob on the handle and turning.

  Zzzzzip! Whizzz! Zing! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  I ducked. Fireworks exploded from the storeroom, showering the waiting area in colored sparks. Tiny fires began on the new carpet and upholstery. Flames licked up the curtains to the ceiling above. The doorknob turned. I stood clear, keeping an eye on the display of fireworks a few feet away and stumbled out onto the tiny lawn.

  The grass smelled better than anything I’d ever smelled in my life. I inhaled deep and rammed my face against the earth, using the ground to wrench the material free of my mouth. Tears burned over my eyes. Surely someone saw the fireworks. Through the open door, I watched my dream go literally up in smoke.

  Zzzzzip! Whizzz! Zing! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  BOOM!

  The windows burst loose without warning. Glass rained down on me as I buried my face in the grass for protection, my arms held captive at my back. In the distance, a siren hummed low and steady. Help was on the way. I did it. I’d made it. My chest heaved with adrenaline. I was safe.

  BOOM!

  My ears rang and the ground shook. Daring a peek over one shoulder, the roof erupted like a volcano behind me. Shards of wood blew over my head and into the street. Clumps of furniture and shingles crashed into the lawn around me. Embers and debris landed on my horrendous sunburn and injured shoulder. So help me, if I had my way, I’d be sure our town’s beloved sheriff was stoned in the town square.

  Pow! A lesser racket blew some printer paper and a desk drawer onto the sidewalk. The roaring in my ears blocked quieter sounds. For the first time in days, I no longer heard the bleating tugboats or singing birds.

  Firemen jogged up the sidewalk past me. A paramedic crouched at my side. He pressed something cold against my back. Shiny black shoes arrived at my face. Murmured voices spoke over me. Sheriff Murray’s face came into view. I screamed at the burst of pain through my shoulder when the paramedic rolled me onto my back.

  The look on the sheriff’s face frightened me. His chest rose and fell at a runner’s pace. My body was rolled again and my wrists released. “Ah!” I gasped and vomited a river onto the sheriff’s perfect shoes. Paramedics moved me away from him and onto a gurney, rolling toward the ambulance. My arm was placed carefully at my side. People streamed down the street toward us, snapping pictures and taking videos on their cell phones. My phone! I’d had the evidence I needed but dropped it. The odds of its survival weren’t good.

  A paramedic climbed inside with me and began to set my arm and clean my wounds. Everything hurt. I cried out, but I still couldn’t hear through the steady roar in my ears. The words he spoke were lost. His lips stopped moving after a while, replaced with a nod and careful smile.

  The world shook and I cried out. He placed a hand on my arm and motioned to the open doors at my feet. Thunder? The storm had returned. Maybe the drops would help the firemen staunch the fire. I nodded, feeling weary. An IV port was set into my good hand. To my dismay, he gripped my other arm tightly. Moving it slowly, he watched my expression. In full understanding, he secured his grip on my arm and pulled it straight toward him, away from my body.

  “Yeeow!” I screamed. Then there was release. The excruciating pain with every breath subsided. My arm was back where it belonged and the paramedic placed it in a sling before he pointed to the IV. I hoped he meant there was something in there for pain. I closed my eyes and pretended the rain beyond the doors would wash away the day.

  Before I fell under the spell of whatever was in the IV bag, I reached for him with my good hand. “Sherriff Murray.” The vibration in my throat felt strange and raw. “Did this.”

  He frowned and looked beyond the doors. I followed his gaze. Sheriff Murray spoke. Sounds filtered in bit by bit, like trying to comprehend the words of my swim instructor when my head was underwater. The paramedic climbed out.

  “No!”

  Sheriff Murray climbed in. He shook his head and closed the doors behind him. He had nothing to lose now by killing me. If he didn’t, I’d tell all, and he’d spend his life in jail. If he got rid of me, and managed to get off the hook, he’d escape with all the money he’d taken for facilitating the gun trafficking. I figured he’d kill me and take his chances with the court system.

  Garbled words flowed over his lips. A creepy serenity relaxed his brow. He removed a syringe from the red bag on the floor beside us. He shrugged and leaned over me, burbling incoherent words at me and tilting his head side to side. Then he squeezed the syringe, accidentally shooting liquid from its tip onto my face. I tossed my head and fought to keep my eyes open. Whatever the paramedic had added to my IV was pulling me under.

  Sheriff Murray scowled, raising the weapon as if he might jam it into my heart. He pressed his mouth to my ear. His hot breath sickened me.

  I rammed my forehead into him as hard as I could.

  He grabbed his head and yelled a slew of jumbled profanity.

  Scowling, he leaned toward me once more, and I bashed him again. The pain medication was handy after all. I could cream him with my forehead all day. I didn’t feel a thing.

  His hands shot out this time. Wising up, he kept his distance and wrapped his stinky fingers around my throat. They smelled like matches from lighting the fireworks and natural gas from my stove. I kicked and thrashed, making it as difficult as possible for him to hold on to me, but the fight in me gave out. He was too strong. I was too tired. And the medication. My lids blinked, heavy and numb.

  When things grew darkest, all at once light shone over us anew and the sheriff flew away. Voices barked and yelped close by. My ears worked hard to make sense of the sounds as the roaring died down in my head. I tried to swallow and gagged. I turned my head in case I threw up again.

  Lifting my head, I blinked back exhaustion. Sebastian stood outside the open ambulance doors, screwing Sheriff Murray’s arms up behind him. He slammed cuffs over the sheriff’s wrists and shoved him forward. The man struggled uselessly under Sebastian’s iron grip.

  So, that was where Sheriff Murray had flown off to.

  Dressed all in black, sidearm in place, and a blue tooth lodged in one ear, Sebastian looked every inch of his title. No one escaped Special Agent Sebastian Clark. With another rough push, the sheriff fell into the waiting hands of his deputy. A pair of men in FBI jackets escorted them out of sight.

  Someone climbed into the front of the ambulance. It rattled to life and the door shut. Sebastian turned immediately toward me and mounted the step to my side. Slamming the doors shut behind him, he barked something low and deep. The ambulance rolled away, and Sebastian turned his deep brown eyes on me. The set of his jaw said he was in a dark place emotionally. Ferocity oozed from him, zinging across the space between us. The vein in his neck kept time with the clench of his jaw. He stared into my eyes and squeezed my hands all the way to the hospital.

  * * *

  I opened weary eyes to the sound of more explosions and the assaulting scent of alcohol and bleach. The bright light coming at me arrived by way of fluorescent bulbs, not fire as I feared. A steady chorus of whoosh, whoosh, beep, settled my heart rate. Beyond the window, fireworks sailed into the night and ignited the sky. Chills ran over my skin. I concentrated on the song playing on the machines at my head. Whoosh, whoosh, beep. I could hear it.

  “You are one tough therapist.” Sebastian stood from the chair in the corner, placed a tattered magazine on the stand beside him and sauntered
to my side. “I still think you should consider working as an agent. The position as my sidekick is still available.”

  I crinkled my nose. For the first time in my life, words escaped me. Memories filtered back like a movie seen years ago. Brilliant colors continued to explode beyond the window, casting tiny, blinking rainbows over the white marble floor.

  “Sheriff.” I coughed until my eyes blurred. My throat felt like fire.

  He handed me a tiny plastic cup of ice chips. “You got him.”

  I sucked on a chip and mulled that over. Unless he counted being choked into oblivion as me getting him, I disagreed. I shook my head, afraid to talk again too soon. Sebastian evaluated me.

  “Would you rather have something hot? Tea? Your parents left a thermos. They’re in the cafeteria right now.”

  I leaned forward and whimpered as my shoulder refused to hold my weight. Sebastian set a cup of tea on the rolling tray in front of me and handed me the bed controls. Inch by inch I crunched upright. Being a mute sucked eggs. I had a million things to tell him and ten times as many questions. I sipped the tea and immediately breathed easier. Dad’s sassafras tea. I detected a touch of whiskey, which was perfect.

  I tried again. “Sheriff.” The word would have to be enough to get him going. I didn’t want to risk another coughing jag.

  “He’s in jail and no longer the sheriff. Thanks to your quick thinking, I not only got those texts but found the phone in his cruiser’s glove box along with his taped confession.” He smiled and poured some tea for himself. “Three counts of murder. Attempted murder. Arson. Gun trafficking. Who knows what else will be piled on. He won’t be out anytime soon. Like I said, all thanks to you. Good thinking to use the phone’s recorder.”

  My face heated with pleasure.

  “Now, you didn’t answer me about the sidekick opening.”

  “No.” I smiled. “Adrian?”

  He sipped the tea and frowned. “Is that whiskey?”

  When I nodded, he took my cup away, shooting a meaningful eye at my IV. Hmph.

  “Boathouse?” I croaked.

  “Sticks. They’ll have to rebuild, I think.” Anger flashed over his beautiful eyes. His lips pressed into a thin white line. “Murray’s lucky to be behind bars right now after what he did to you. He’s safer where I can’t reach him.”

  From the look on Sebastian’s face, I didn’t doubt that.

  I adjusted the awkward sling my aching arm was stuffed into. My beautiful office was gone. Everyone worked so hard and made it perfect. I’d never be able to afford insurance again in Virginia. After three claims in two weeks, who’d be dumb enough to insure me?

  “Don’t worry about that now. Rest.”

  My mind craved information. I needed a pen and paper. Before I could stifle the yawn, it stretched my face.

  Sebastian smiled as if to say he told me so. “I’m going to stay with you until you’re fully recovered.” It was a statement, not a question. As an afterthought, he threw in, “I hope that’s alright.” His deep brown eyes smoldered. Emotion played beneath the words.

  “I’m safe now,” I managed, pressing a hand to my throat. “You don’t have to.”

  He raised his palms to me. “Just until I can find a place.”

  My expression must’ve said what I was thinking. “A place?”

  “My place in Norfolk’s not safe. The department’s working on a new assignment for me. Meanwhile, I’ll adjust to the commute from a town half of the state’s never heard of.”

  “Hey.” I clamped a hand over my neck, ending my protest. People had heard of Chincoteague.

  “Until you get a new sheriff, Deputy Fargas is in charge. I’m a little concerned.”

  I nodded. Yep, he should stay. I didn’t bother hiding the crazy smile edging across my face. Sebastian was staying. Frankie the receptionist’s interpretation of how he looked at me came to mind. Could there be truth in her observation?

  Sebastian brushed bangs off my forehead, and my heart thrummed manically in my chest. He leaned over the bed’s railing, bringing his eyes in alignment with mine. “Everything I want to protect is right here.”

  Featherlight lips dusted my forehead. His warm, spicy scent beat the heck out of the bleach and antiseptic of the hospital.

  “Get some rest. I’ll be right over there when you wake up.” He motioned to the chair, but I clamped a hand over his.

  “Thank you.” I mouthed the words, unable to voice the emotion building in my heart.

  He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers before retreating to the window across the room.

  I had every intention of waiting to see my mom and dad return from the cafeteria, but exhaustion, meds and Dad’s secret ingredient pulled me under. I took the image of Sebastian’s strong frame leaning against the hospital window with me.

  Whoosh, whoosh, beep.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe this is your life.” Claire smoothed sunscreen over her arms, leaving the warm scent of coconut caught in the air between us. “I have to go back to Norfolk tomorrow, don a suit and sit in meetings. You get to work here.” She lifted her giant red sunglasses to give me a pointed glare.

  A warm breeze kicked up, tossing sand and curling the corner of our blanket. She moved our tiny cooler to hold the blanket in place without missing a beat. “You live on an island, get to work on the beach...”

  “I don’t always work on the beach. Only when I meet with moms.” I nodded toward the crowd of kids burying someone neck-deep at the edge of the water. “They can talk privately and their kids get to play.”

  “Mm-mm-mm.” She settled onto her back. “I could get used to this, is all I’m saying.”

  “It took some adjusting.”

  “Concierge counseling. So, what happens in the winter?”

  “I don’t know yet. The whole idea of counseling on the go irritated the snot out of me before. Having the boathouse blown back to the mainland helped motivate me to be more flexible. Hopefully the insurance case will settle soon and I’ll find another spot for my office.”

  “How about the empty studio under your apartment? No one’s breaking down doors to rent that place. Think of how easy your commute will be.”

  I tugged on the sling holding my shoulder in place. The skin inside the material itched and burned. “I always forget to put lotion on my arm before the sling.”

  “How much longer do you have to wear that thing?”

  “A week. The surgery was a breeze. Wearing this thing stinks.” Considering how things almost turned out, I counted myself lucky to get off with only a sling.

  “So what do you think about the art studio for your office? It has the secret entrance and everything.”

  “I love the idea. In fact, I bet I could get it as cheap as I get my apartment.” The more the idea settled in, the more I wanted to call my landlord immediately to secure it.

  “Let’s do it! I can reorder everything from Crate and Barrel. I have the receipt in my e-mail.” She pulled out her phone and began to work. Like everything else about Claire, her phone sparkled in the sunlight. Tiny crystals in various colors covered every inch of the protective cover.

  I checked my watch. I had another half hour before my next appointment. Plenty of time to get a little sun while it lasted. Fall would come to steal it soon enough. I laid my head on the rolled towel behind me and let the sun heat my skin through. With eyes closed, I listened to all my favorite sounds—children laughing, the waves crashing, Claire humming. In that moment, it was hard to remember why I ever left.

  “Hey, Peepee.”

  I cracked open one eye. Adrian smiled down at me.

  Now I remembered.

  “Enjoying the sun?” he asked.

  “I was.”

  “I liked you better when I was
in jail.”

  “Ditto.” Despite my best effort, my lips turned up. “What’s with the suit? This is the beach. Are you lost again?”

  He flopped onto his bottom in the sand beside my blanket. “I wore a suit to meet with my Realtor.”

  “Moving?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I need office space. As it turns out, you were right. The islanders don’t care that I was wrongly accused, and they petitioned me to run against Beau Thompson in the mayoral election.” He winked, looking pleased with himself to no end.

  “Great. Mayor Davis.” I let the words sit on my tongue. “It does have a certain ring to it.” I studied him.

  As he looked back with stormy gray eyes, his infuriating dimple caved in, pulling a couple days’ worth of stubble with it.

  Captivated, I leaned in a fraction of an inch. Not enough for him to notice, I hoped. He smelled like soap and mint and...Adrian. Familiar. Obnoxious. I pulled back. “So, where’s the new office? I’ll be sure to steer clear.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you have a chance in that endeavor.”

  “Great.” Claire startled me. I’d forgotten she was there. “The empty studio isn’t listed on the Realtor site. We should just head over there and talk to him. They probably don’t keep the site current.”

  “It’s current. I have plans for the space, actually. I rented it for my campaign office.” Adrian stretched a hand over me toward Claire to introduce himself. “Adrian.”

  “Claire.” She looked between us. “How does it feel to be a free man?”

  “Exquisite. I can thank my girl here for it, too.”

  A perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose from behind Claire’s glasses. “So I hear.”

  “In fact, I hoped to invite her to dinner.” His eyes locked on mine.

  “Is that the going rate for saving your heinie these days?” My heart thumped at the invitation. Old habits and all that. I had no intention of accepting.