Death at First Sight

by Lena Gregory

  “Well, let me tell you where I was.” He took a step toward them, and the three of them backed up together into the living room.

  The dog kept pace at Cass’s side. When they hit the back of the couch, they stopped.

  “I was answering a call at Marge Hawkins’s house. Seems the neighbor saw someone over there.”

  Cass racked her brain to figure who could have seen them.

  “Her six-year-old saw two ladies, a dog, and a bear on stilts.” Tank eyed Bee up and down, from the top of his bleached blond hair to his platform shoes and back.

  Bee answered with a very uncouth and indignant snort. He turned away from Tank, walked into the living room, and flopped back into an armchair to pout.

  “I held on to some small shred of hope that it wasn’t you three, because of the dog.” He frowned at the massive hound at Cass’s side. “Should I even ask?”

  “Probably not.” Cass figured honesty was the best policy here. Besides, there was a chance, however small, he’d let it go at that.

  “Would it have anything to do with this?” He pulled the tire iron from behind his back and held it up in front of him.

  Cass cringed. So much for letting it go. “Possibly?”

  Tank lifted an eyebrow and waited, but when Cass opened her mouth to speak, he raised a hand to stop her. “You know what? I don’t want to know.” He shook his head and turned his attention to Stephanie. “How could you get involved in this?”

  Cass intervened. She couldn’t let Stephanie take the heat for what she’d done. “It’s not what you think.”

  He gave her his full attention. “It’s not breaking and entering?”

  Heat crept up her cheeks, and a bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. “Okay, it is what you think, but with a really good explanation.”

  Tank leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his massive chest.

  The dog moved closer to Cass.

  “We were looking for Ellie.”

  “And?”

  “We couldn’t find her.”

  “Why were you looking for her?” At least he finally seemed interested.

  Cass tried to decide how much to tell him.

  “Well?”

  She jumped, startled by the volume of his voice. “I gave Ellie a reading yesterday. After she left, I wanted to warn her, but I couldn’t get in touch with her.”

  “Warn her about what?” He tilted his head, his expression telling her this had better be good.

  Cass sucked in a deep breath and braced herself to be ridiculed. “A shadow crossed my vision while I was doing the reading.”

  Tank shifted away from the wall. “So . . . let me get this straight. You had to find Ellie, right after her mother was murdered.” He pointed a finger at Cass as he inched forward. “A murder, I might add, you’ve been suspected of committing.” A vein pulsed frantically in his temple. “So you broke into Marge’s house.”

  Cass was pretty sure smoke was coming out of his ears.

  “Because a bird or something flew between you and the sun while you were looking into your crystal ball?” He clenched his teeth, seemingly struggling for control. “Do I have this right?”

  Cass nodded vigorously.

  “Are you crazy?”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. The shadow wasn’t caused by anything like that.”

  “All right, I’ll probably be sorry I asked, but . . . What was it caused by?”

  “I don’t know. It’s only ever happened to me once before.”

  “And?”

  “The person died.”

  She held her breath and waited, watching Tank stare at her. He didn’t laugh at her or blow up, though, as she’d expected.

  “Explain.”

  “It was before I came home, while I still had my practice in the city.” The memory was painful for Cass, even now. She leaned back against the couch and reached down to pet the dog’s head. Before she’d returned to Bay Island, she’d been a psychiatrist. She’d always been intuitive, and the profession had suited her well. “I had someone in for a session, which I can’t divulge any details of.”

  Tank nodded his understanding.

  “During the session a shadow crossed my vision. It was the weirdest thing, but I had no idea what to make of it, so I let it go. Something kept nagging at me all day, but I repeatedly ignored it.” She paused and struggled to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She lowered her gaze to the floor. “My patient was found dead the next day. Suicide.”

  No one said anything.

  Tank’s breathing was heavy for an endless minute. “I’ll check on Ellie. You three stay far away from her.” He pinned Cass with a hard look. “If anyone else had answered that call tonight, you’d be in jail.” His tone softened. “I’m serious, Cass. You’re in a lot of trouble right now. Promise me you’ll stay out of this.”

  Cass swallowed hard and nodded. “Thanks, Tank.”

  “You’re welcome.” He looked at Stephanie. “I’ll see you at home.” He turned to go.

  “Tank?”

  He paused and glanced back over his shoulder at Cass.

  “How did Marge die?”

  He hesitated and scrubbed a hand over his face. Cass was sure he wasn’t going to answer.

  “She was shot.”

  6

  Cass gripped the steering wheel tightly. “How bad was it?” She didn’t even wait for Stephanie to get all the way into the car. Bee leaned forward between the seats, obviously waiting for an answer as well.

  Stephanie smiled. “It was fine. He yelled a little, and then we . . . made up, so it’s all good.” She batted her big brown eyes.

  A pent-up breath whooshed out, and Cass shifted into gear and pulled away from the curb. “Tony’s?”

  “Is it Sunday?” Bee asked.

  She peeked in the rearview mirror to see his eyebrow lifted sarcastically.

  She laughed. Sunday was the only day Tony made cannoli balls—little fried dough balls, filled with cannoli filling and dipped in sugar. Her mouth started to water at the thought.

  “Hey, Cass. What’d you do with Marge’s dog?” Stephanie cracked the window and cool, fresh air filled the car.

  Cass inhaled deeply, the scent of the sea filling her lungs. “I left him at home.”

  Traffic was heavy this morning, for Bay Island, anyway. Both churches were letting out, and the people all flocked to one of three places—the deli, the diner, or Tony’s Bakery. She settled back and resigned herself to the ten minutes it would take to get to the center of the island.

  “You really think that was a good idea?”

  She shrugged and stared out the window. It was still warm enough for people to walk, and they swarmed the sidewalks, talking and laughing. Cass recognized a few, but others were strangers to her. Of course, it was still tourist season. By the dead of winter, she’d at least recognize most of the people she came across. “What else would I do with him?” Maybe she’d take the dog for a walk later.

  “I don’t know, but what are people going to think when they see you with Marge’s dog?” Stephanie asked.

  Hmmm . . . she hadn’t thought of that. Maybe the walk would have to wait.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to be easy to explain.” Bee leaned forward between the seats again, and Cass nudged him back with her elbow.

  “Sit back, will you? I can’t see through your big head.”

  Stephanie laughed, and Bee slid over a little. Cass hit the right-turn signal, glanced in the rearview mirror, and joined the line of traffic turning into the small bakery parking lot. Her gaze shot back to the mirror. “Hey, isn’t that Jay Callahan?”

  Stephanie looked where Cass indicated and turned to look back over her shoulder. Bee was already turned around, staring out the back window.
“Where?”

  “Driving that black car.”

  “Yeah, that’s him. Too bad it’s not Ellie snuggled up against him.” Bee turned back to face Cass as Jay passed them. “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to pull back out so I can follow him.” Cass hit the left-turn signal and waited patiently for a break in traffic.

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. I just wonder what he’s doing with someone other than his wife practically sitting in his lap.”

  Bee snorted. “What do you think he’s doing?”

  “The same thing he’s always doing.” Stephanie stared longingly at the bakery.

  Cass relented and flipped off the signal. “True, I guess.” Her mind stayed on Jay and his—most likely—newest lover. “How does he get all these women?”

  “I have no idea. The guy looks like a weasel and has the personality of a wet dish towel.”

  Cass mulled that over. Bee hated Jay, but she had to admit his assessment wasn’t far off.

  “Plus, he’s nasty, abusive, and makes no attempt to hide it.” Stephanie pointed to the left. “There, grab that spot.”

  Cass waited while a woman strapped a young baby into a car seat. “Did Tank say if he found Ellie?”

  Worry filled Stephanie’s eyes, and she shook her head.

  The urge to follow Jay hit Cass again, but she dismissed it. She’d never be able to find him now anyway. She parked, climbed out, and got in the back of the line that weaved around the side of the bakery, still lost in thoughts of Ellie.

  “So, how many people are coming to the reading tonight?” Bee looked hopeful.

  “Sorry, Bee. You’re not getting out of helping.”

  He folded his arms across his massive chest, leaned against the brick wall, and sulked.

  “That was the deal. I help you with the fashion show, you help me with the group readings.”

  Stephanie laughed. “She’s right, Bee. You’re the one who suggested the arrangement.”

  “Yeah, well, it hardly seems fair. I only have one fashion show a year—Cass has readings every month.” He perked up and pushed away from the wall. “Hey. Do you think now that Marge is gone I can keep the original date for the show?”

  Cass looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Do you think it would be appropriate to ask . . . considering?” She wondered if the crime scene tape had been removed.

  “I don’t see why not. It’s not like Marge had any day-to-day involvement at the theater. She practiced with her theater group for a few months and ran a performance once a year,” Stephanie said, and gestured for her to move up in the line.

  “Still . . .” Cass inched forward. “She was the president of the board of directors, and she did die in the theater.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. We’ll have a moment of silence or something if you have to,” Bee said. “It’s not like the old crackpot’s going to be missed.”

  Cass sucked in a breath and looked around. Did anyone hear Bee’s comment? “Shh . . .”

  He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything more on the subject.

  Cass crossed through the front door, and the aroma of freshly baked dough made saliva pool in her mouth. She’d have to run extra hard tomorrow to make up for today’s indulgence. Maybe.

  “Hey, Cass.”

  She looked up. Tim Daughtry was blushing adorably.

  “Hey, Tim. How are you doing?”

  “Good. I just started college, and so far I like it.”

  “Local?”

  “Nah . . . I’m in Philadelphia. I’m majoring in fashion design.” He shot Bee a grin. “Thanks to you, I got into the program. I appreciate the reference.”

  “No problem. If you’re ever looking for a summer job, stop in and see me. You’re very talented.”

  “Thank you. I’d like that.” Tim’s blush deepened. He shook the long blond hair out of his eyes. “I was originally going to major in performing arts, but I liked working with you at the shop a lot better than working with you and Ms. Hawkins at the theater.” His eyes shot open as if realizing he’d said something wrong. “I mean, she was a nice lady and all. I don’t mean to speak poorly of the dead.” The blush ran straight up into his hairline. “She just wasn’t as easy to work with as you, Mr. Bee.”

  “Sure, Tim. She was . . . ah . . .”

  Cass glared daggers at him.

  “Difficult.” He smirked.

  Tim turned his attention to Cass. “Is the shop going to be open today, Cass?”

  “I have a group reading later, so I’ll be there. Why? Do you need something?”

  “A friend of mine at school has been going through a really rough time lately, and I wanted to do something special for her. My mom loves all the candles and lotions and bath stuff you have, says it makes her feel better when she’s down, so I thought maybe you could put together a basket for me.”

  “Sure. I just got a new fragrance in. It smells kind of like peaches, and it’s supposed to help you relax and center yourself. I’ll throw a black tourmaline in with it for protection against negative energy. Tell her to keep it close to her. Your friend will love it.” She moved forward with the line.

  “That’s perfect. Thank you. I’ll pick it up Tuesday morning, if that’s okay.”

  “I’ll have it ready for you.”

  “Well, I gotta go.” Tim held up the white bakery bag in his hand.

  “Sure. I’ll see you later.”

  Cass pulled her gaze from his and moved forward to order.

  * * *

  “Well, what do you think we should do?” Cass lifted the bakery bag a little higher, letting the scent entice her.

  “What do you mean? We should go in and take the measurements you didn’t get to take yesterday.” Bee leaned closer to read the paper sign tacked to the front door.

  “It says ‘closed until further notice,’” Stephanie said.

  “I can read, Steph.” Bee spared her an eye-roll before ripping the sign from the door and crumpling it into a ball. “There. Problem solved.”

  Cass shrugged and dug the keys from her bag.

  “What time is everyone supposed to be at the shop?” Bee glanced at his cell phone.

  “In about an hour.” Unsure exactly what time it was, Cass glanced at Stephanie for confirmation.

  She nodded.

  Cass lost track of whatever Stephanie was saying as they entered the theater. She paused at the auditorium entrance and took a deep breath before flipping the light switch. Images of Marge Hawkins assailed her, squeezing her lungs and shortening her breath.

  A warm hand landed on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “I will be.” Was that true? She loved working with Bee on the fashion show. Volunteering had provided a distraction when she needed it most. Would the theater forever be tarnished by the images of Marge? She shook her head to try to dispel the thoughts and turned on all of the lights, chasing away as many shadows as possible. She reached up and squeezed Bee’s hand before starting down the center aisle with Bee and Stephanie on either side of her, lending her strength.

  She couldn’t keep her gaze from falling on the section of the pit where Marge had been found. Several seats, including the one she’d been propped in, and a large patch of the carpeting, were missing, apparently taken by the police as evidence.

  “They’re supposed to put the runway in tomorrow. Do you have any sketches for me yet for the stage design?”

  She pulled her focus from the pit and smiled at Bee, grateful for his attempt to fill her mind with something other than thoughts of murder. For all his dramatic tendencies, he had a deeply sensitive side as well.

  “I think I pretty much know what I want, but I haven’t sketched it out yet.” The vision of what she wanted to do gripped her, sending waves of exciteme
nt rippling through her. Bee was going to love it.

  “Just make sure everything I need is there,” Bee said.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be great.” Cass climbed onto the stage. She opened the bakery bag. The scent of warm cannoli balls wafted out. “Let’s just take the measurements and get out of here before we end up in trouble.” She looked up and held the bag out to Bee, shaking it a little so the aroma drifted to him.

  “That works.” Bee reached into the bag, pulled out a cannoli ball, and popped it into his mouth.

  She held the bag toward Stephanie, who took one, bit into it, and moaned.

  Cass followed. Her eyes fell shut as she savored the rich flavor. “So, Bee. I didn’t realize you worked with Marge at the theater.”

  Bee dug through his bag and, for a minute, Cass didn’t think he’d answer. “It’s not that big a deal. I only worked with her for a year. I met her through a friend of a friend. I was looking to settle somewhere new, and she asked if I’d be interested in a position playing piano and making costumes for a small theater group.” He shrugged as if it was unimportant. “The pay sucked, but I fell in love with Bay Island and the dream of having a shop on the boardwalk, so I tolerated her for a year until I got the shop opened.” He whipped a tape measure out of the bag and grinned. “Then I made sure my fashion show sold out the theater, knowing it burned her gut that her plays couldn’t.”

  Cass propped the bakery bag on a podium at the side of the stage and studied her friend. He fidgeted nervously, pulling the tape measure open a bit, then hitting the button and retracting the tape.

  “You never mentioned that before.”

  “Because it wasn’t a big deal, Cass.” He held the tape measure out to her, tapping his foot impatiently.

  Cass sipped her coffee, then reached for another cannoli ball, giving herself a minute to think about whether or not she should push the issue. He was obviously either lying about something or keeping something secret. Bee’s words came back to her. “The world would be a better place without that woman.” Hadn’t he said that when they received the letter from the board? Suspicion niggled at the back of Cass’s mind, and she worked hard to dismiss it. She grabbed the tape measure and held it against the edge of the stage while Bee pulled the other end out as he walked to the opposite side.