by Sandi Scott
Michael smiled. “It was fun checking out all the facts. I got so excited when her husband told us that she dabbled in Strega witchcraft.”
“Yes, and remember the librarian’s face when we asked her if they had any books on Italian magic?”
He burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah. When she asked, ‘What are you two up to? You wanna put a spell on someone?’ I wanted to say yes.”
Ashley smiled. “The most exciting thing for me was when we realized Mrs. Jackson put the heart in the mailbox herself—just for attention—then she tried to blame Mom.”
“It was the same deal with the dog turd three months earlier, remember? Dad saw her scoop it up from the sidewalk and shove it into her own mailbox. I laughed so hard when he called her a looney nut-job.”
“How could I forget? That’s how we put two and two together.”
Michael took a sip of juice and leaned back in his chair. “That was a lot of fun.”
Ashley took another mouthful of stuffing and pointed her fork at her brother. He frowned.
“What?”
She swallowed. “So, it was okay for me to be a sleuth back then but not now, when my livelihood is being threatened?”
“Well, this is a little different, Sis. It’s not a simple case of dog turds or chicken hearts stuffed in the mailbox.”
“I know that, but I don’t want to risk losing what I’ve worked so hard for. All that studying, perfecting my recipes and growing the business—it’s all at stake here.”
Michael put his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “Okay, just promise me that you’ll play it safe.”
“I will. Besides, I have Ryan helping me.”
“Ah, yes—Ryan.” He smirked.
“What? What does that mean?”
“Nothing, but I know you have feelings for him. I think you have for a long time.”
“You’re so wrong, Michael. He’s just my friend.”
“Yes, but you said the same thing about Serge, remember?”
Ashley shuddered at the mention of his name but didn’t respond.
“Is that still a sore point?”
She pondered the question while she played with her food. She had tried to block out those memories over the past few years. It wasn’t just the pain of the breakup but the idea that she had been used as a pawn in his dangerous hacking exploits.
“You know how I feel about him and that time in my life.” She paused before going on, suddenly losing her appetite. “Even though I’m over him now, I’m still angry that I fell for him. I should’ve known that his charm and good looks were too good to be true.”
“You were young and impressionable. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Besides, at least you got away from him before the blowback hit you.”
She sighed heavily. “True, but I should’ve seen the signs. Now there’s still that thought in the back of my head that it could come back to bite me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, he could still come back to seek revenge. I had to clear my name and tell the truth. He had me breaking the law with what I thought was routine IT security work for paying clients.” She took a moment to take a deep breath and stay calm. “I wasn’t going to take the fall for him, so I told the investigators everything I knew. If I’d helped him, he’d now be living in the lap of luxury on some remote island. Instead, he’s running from the authorities and trying to stay under the radar. Seriously, he could turn up at any time.”
Michael shook his head. “You know you’ve got your big brother to look out for you.” Trying to joke to alleviate the stress she was obviously trying to hide, he added, “And Ryan, maybe even Patty—and Diz.”
Dizzy came running over, always in tune with any mention of her name, even when abbreviated. Michael scratched her under the chin and tossed a bean in the air, which she expertly caught and swallowed in zero time.
Ashley smiled. “That’s true—and comforting—but I still keep looking over my shoulder.”
Michael got up and began to clear the table. “Well, you know what would help you feel safer?”
“A tougher dog?”
“Come on. Dizzy worships the ground you walk on, don’t you, Diz?”
Tail wagging lazily, Dizzy followed him into the kitchen. Ashley got up to help. Michael turned to face her while leaning against the counter.
“Don’t you think it’s time to settle down, Ash? Find yourself a man to love—someone who truly loves you and will take care of you.”
“Oh, my God! Stop channeling Mom.” She groaned and slumped her shoulders for emphasis.
“OK, OK.” He looked at her in such a kind way, her heart swelled a little bit. “I just think you deserve someone who respects you and has nothing but good intentions.”
It felt too silly to cry, so instead Ashley punched his arm. “Look who’s talking. When are you going to settle down, now that we’re on the subject?”
Michael adopted a macho stance, puffing out his chest. “I’m a playboy, baby! I’m in my prime.”
She shook her head emphatically. “Decline, baby, not prime.”
He rushed over and grabbed her in a headlock, giving her a noogie while she screamed and pummeled his legs.
“Stop it, you mongrel. STOP!”
Dizzy began to bark and leap up on Michael, so he decided to let his sister go. She slapped him across the head, and he pretended to kick her while holding the dog at bay.
“See? Dizzy’s got your back.”
Ashley bent down and grabbed the dog in a frenzied hug, making her even more excited. Michael went over and started to pour the coffee while Ashley collected herself and told Dizzy to calm down.
“I’m serious, Ash. You do need to find someone who really cares about you. I know that you like to project an aura of independence and stability, but I can see the loneliness in you.”
Ashley was well aware that no one knew her better than Michael, but she stubbornly shook her head. “Thanks for caring, Mikey, but I’m fine.”
“What about Ryan? He’s such a great friend and you two have always been close, even when you went to Paris. You know, he often called and asked how you were while you were away?”
This secretly pleased Ashley, but she maintained a tough exterior. “So? He had my email address. He could’ve asked me himself.”
“Maybe he’s shy? You know, it’s getting harder and harder these days for men to approach and talk to women. Who knows how he really feels?” He paused, and then added as an afterthought, “Hey, if you like, I could do some detective work on your behalf.”
Ashley grinned at his enthusiasm.
“Sure. You want to help with the case?”
Michael’s smile quickly evaporated, followed by a playful groan.
“No, silly, I meant—talk to Ryan on your behalf. I could find out how he really feels about you and report back. It could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
Ashley grabbed a wooden spoon from the counter and pretended to threaten her brother.
“If you do, it’ll be curtains for you, see? I’ll put you six feet underground; is that understood?”
CHAPTER 8
THE SEAGRASS POLICE station didn’t exactly evoke images of law and order. Located in a remodeled schoolhouse, complete with wooden panels which were painted streetlight-yellow, it was known for the meticulous maintenance of the luxuriant oleander bushes out front. Ashley had come to turn over the phone. Now that Ryan had copied the SD card and all the data from the phone for them to try and recover, there was no purpose in obstructing justice any longer.
Before Ashley reached the front steps, Mueller’s voice hollered from the bushes; then he crawled out backwards, feet first. Trying not to giggle, Ashley thought, “The amount of time our boys in blue spend with their hands gardening in the dirt shows what a small threat crime is in this town.”
The sheriff squinted up at her. “Ashley. I’ve been hopin’ to give you a call sometime soon!”
“Do yo
u have news?”
“Oh, no. I was just hopin’ to. What brings ya here?”
“I might have some news of my own, actually.”
“Really?” He sat cross-legged, patting the grass next to him. “Take a seat. Our grass is the best seat in town, promise.”
She sat, knowing that the lawn received more grooming than Dizzy did.
“You remember how I came to pick up my pans that morning after Colleen died?”
“Sure. I about had a heart attack thinkin’ we had an intruder at the scene of our death investigation.” He wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a thin line of dirt across his forehead.
“Well, you know, I haven’t been cooking a lot lately, seeing as how people are afraid that my food will kill them, so I just got around to washing my pans. I’d left them sitting in the oven at the venue, but when I unstacked them at home, this was lying between the pans.”
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. She pulled a zip lock bag holding Colleen’s reassembled phone from her purse. “And I recognized it as Colleen’s phone.”
“It was missin’ all this time? How’d it get in the oven in your pans?”
“It looks like someone tried to destroy or hide it, and there are signs of water damage, too.” Again, not a lie. “I once worked in IT, you know.”
“Seems like too big of a coincidence, her dyin’ the same night her phone is assaulted and drowned.”
She didn’t necessarily think of Mueller as a bad investigator, he was just never afforded the opportunity for much practice. The biggest mystery in Seagrass had been the time Bertrand lost his prize hog on the riverbed, and it turned out to be sleeping in the mud under another hog. It would be natural to think that the best explanation was the least sinister one.
“That’s what I’m thinking. I brought it down right away for you to keep as evidence.”
“Looky here, now. This kind of turn in the case is good for you. Here I was hopin’ to call you with good news soon, and now you call upon me with your own good news.”
“Yeah, life is funny that way, I guess.”
She decided to hold off telling him about Colleen’s argument with the unknown man, unless it became necessary. She was growing more frustrated each day that she couldn’t figure out who the man was.
“It came at a good time, too. They’re runnin’ test after test for all the toxins fitting her symptoms but so far, no matches. So it’s gotta be somethin’ uncommon, but they gotta know what they’re testin’ for, first.”
“So, if they used some crazy obscure poison, the lab might never confirm what it is?” Ashley’s heart sank. She and her business couldn’t afford any loose ends that might still leave room for suspicion at the end of all of this.
Mueller stretched back against the grass, propped up on his elbows and stared up at the clouds. “They’re lookin’ at the molecular structure and whatnot right now, but there’s a limited amount of time and resources they can spend on a case with no other evidence of foul play. But I think you could have just brought in an extension.”
“Just doing what I can to help. Colleen was a friend of mine, so I want to know for closure’s sake. Is there anything else I can do?”
“Nah, hon, you’re good. I wish all Colleen’s so-called friends were as good-hearted as you.” Mueller shook his head and looked down at the phone in his hands. “Can you believe that Emma Phee was just down here yesterday, asking if she could get back a bracelet she lent to Colleen? She actually had the gall to ask us to let her look through the victim’s purse, if you can believe that!”
The hair on Ashley’s arms prickled. That was the second time she’d heard a strange story about Emma Phee’s behavior since the murder. She knew that the woman had enough money, so she didn’t have to steal from Colleen, but what could she possibly have wanted in that purse?
“Hey, I was curious about something, Sheriff. Have you heard anything about any vandalism or harassment of the McCays lately?”
“I heard ‘bout it but not from them.” Mueller’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I wish people would ask for my help more, but ‘round here, people like to take care of their own business. They think callin’ the police would be makin’ too much of a fuss.” He glanced around the garden. “I mean, not like we got much else to do.”
“What do you think about plans for a big hotel at the Mouth?”
“If I had my way, not much would change. Except maybe my usefulness.” He chuckled. “I suppose a big hotel would require a larger police presence. Lots of domestic disputes at hotels. But the McCays have kept greedy hands off the Mouth for a long time without any profit to show for it, so if they wanna sell, we shouldn’t give ‘em a hard time for it.”
Ashley guessed that if Mueller was sympathetic to the Localist movement and had reason to think they had something to do with Colleen’s death, he’d know better than to talk about it with someone close to the McCays. If this kind of extremist talk was going around, it wasn’t going to be out in the idyllic, landscaped yards in broad daylight. She needed to find the kind of place it did happen, but Seagrass didn’t exactly have a designated seedy underbelly.
She wished people were as easy to hack as computers were. Just then, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, pulled it out and read a new text from Ryan.
“Stop by office when you can—new development on phone.”
“On my way,” she texted back, giddy with anticipation about what the new development might be.
In the car, Dizzy watched intently for her return. Ashley got in and turned to scratch her head.
“What is it, girl? Feel like a visit to your favorite IT guy?”
Even though she knew that Dizzy was a dog, certain words seemed to trigger a response. She didn’t even have to mention Ryan’s name. Saying “IT” made the dog prick up her ears. She barked and began panting excitedly.
“Okay.” Ashley laughed and drove off.
“Well,” Ashley said as she walked into Ryan’s office, “what is the news?”
“Hello to you too.” From the look on his face, she could see he was not put off by her directness but rather proud of himself for his discovery. “See for yourself. I pulled a few photos from Colleen’s phone.”
He turned his laptop around and Ashley sat down. She gasped as she scrolled through several pictures of Emma Phee and Bobby McCay arriving at and leaving different hotels and restaurants—as well as at the McCay property, walking in the garden.
She looked up at Ryan. “Emma told me that Colleen and Bobby were having an affair; that seems awfully suspicious given what we know now. What else is she hiding?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sheriff Mueller just told me that Emma had asked him if she could get something from Colleen’s handbag. It could have been these photos, or it could have been evidence of the murder. Now that we know what she and Bobby were up to, I want to hear it from her mouth. Then I’ll be able to see for myself if she’s a murderer too.”
Ryan was nodding thoughtfully as he followed her train of thought and jumped a little when his cell phone rang from the other side of the room. He was too slow to get to the call before they hung up, so he called voice mail while holding up his palm to Ashley.
“Forgive me a second, I had several client emergencies today, so I just have to check these.” He put his phone on speaker, turned the volume way up and starting typing on his computer while listening. The first message was from his mother, reminding him of his niece’s upcoming birthday. The second was from a client, talking about his SSL certificate being expired and unable to process any credit card transactions. Ashley felt intrusive hearing the messages, but there was no way to avoid it.
The third message started as though the caller thought Ryan had actually answered.
“Hey broooo,” slurred the man’s voice. “Whassup?” A long pause followed until the man realized his mistake and started laughing. “Ok, dude, I get it, you’re not there. But when you ge
t this, you gotta come out right nooooooow. That girl I was telling you about is here and she is hoooooooot.”
The message continued, but Ashley stopped listening. She heard the sound of her own pulse in her head and little else. Set up with a girl? It was silly, but she never really thought about Ryan having a social life. She just always pictured him at work or at home or with her. The image of him out at a bar, talking to a girl, drinking and flirting, popped in her mind and she couldn’t think of much else.
“Sorry about that,” Ryan said. “That was a drunk dial from Eddie last weekend from a bar, trying to set me up with some girl he knew from work.”
Ashley snapped back to the moment. “Wait a minute—Eddie? Your old friend Eddie?”
“Yeah. Now that he’s engaged, he’s been trying to set me up with all the hot girls he wishes he could date. I save his messages for comedic value.” Ryan shook his head to get back on track.
“That’s him—that’s the voice!” exclaimed Ashley.
Ryan looked perplexed.
“That’s the voice of the man that I heard arguing with Colleen in the bathroom the night she died.”
“Eddie was arguing with Colleen? Are you sure?”
“100 percent.” She jumped up and began to pace back and forth.
“If you think it was Eddie, what was that argument all about?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t know. I always thought that Eddie’s temper was bound to get him into trouble sooner or later, but could he murder someone?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“I guess we are going to talk to Eddie,” she said.
CHAPTER 9
THEY HIKED DOWNRIVER to where Eddie parked his RV, where Ryan had been a few times with the guys for poker night.
“Remind me about what you heard in the bathroom again,” Ryan said. “I want to be sure we’re on the same page.”
“Eddie said something about proprietary information in an email he didn’t want Colleen to release. Now we know that might be this survey file, but it might be the other file we haven’t accessed yet. Then it sounded like there could have been something—you know—between Eddie and Colleen. I’m not sure exactly what it all meant, but it was more than a fight about business. You said Eddie is engaged, to whom?”