by Maci Grant
“I’m a bar owner, not a reporter.” He shook his head. “I know my uncle. He’s going to want to know a name.”
“Then you just tell him that I told you, and I won’t reveal who gave me the information.”
“You would do that? Tempt my uncle’s temper?”
“Sure.” Blu looked over at Cathy, whose hand shook as she refilled coffee cups. “That woman is terrified. I made her a promise. I intend to keep it.”
“You’re a very brave woman, Blu.”
“I just try to do what I think is right. Sometimes it’s not about what’s easy, it’s about what’s right.”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. Their original waitress brought over their food.
Blu began to eat, but her mind was elsewhere. How had she been in the beach town all summer and not known that such dangerous things were taking place? It left her feeling more than a little unsettled.
“Alright, I won’t tell him her name.” AJ looked across the table at her. “But I can’t promise you that my uncle won’t be determined to find out.”
“If the information pans out, then maybe he’ll be too distracted to hunt her down.”
“Maybe.”
When they’d finished their food AJ drove them back to the beach house. He lingered by the door once the kids were inside.
“I’m going to go talk to my uncle. I’ll let you know if anything new comes up.”
“Okay.” Blu smiled.
“Blu, I still want to talk about things.”
She lowered her eyes. “I’m not sure what.” She was surprised when she felt his palm curve beneath her chin.
He tilted her head upward with a gentle pressure. “Yes, you are.” He searched her eyes as his fingertips stroked along the curve of her chin. “You’re as sure as I am. That’s why we need to talk.”
“Later.” Blu barely managed to get the word out. The way AJ was looking at her caused her knees to weaken. Her head spun with the force of what her instincts demanded.
“Later.” He nodded and gave her chin a light tap. Then he turned and walked back to his jeep.
Blu leaned against the doorway to keep herself upright.
“Oh, Blu, what have you gotten yourself into?” She shook her head and stepped into the house.
When she closed the door behind her, she hoped to close out some of the wild sensations that coursed through her, but no amount of wood or glass could eliminate the connection she’d already experienced with AJ.
In an attempt to distract herself from what she was feeling, Blu turned on the television as she and the kids walked into the living room. She’d planned to turn on some cartoons to help the kids relax a bit after such an adventurous day, but it was the local news channel that grabbed her attention. Before she could turn it, the reporter on the screen began to describe the beach scene that was already foremost on Blu’s mind.
“In the kitchen, kids.” Blu shooed them toward the kitchen. Her gaze remained on the screen as the reporter described the victim.
“In an apparent drug deal gone wrong, a man is dead today. He was found on the beach this morning during the annual end of the summer clam dig. Luckily, the body was located far enough away from the crowd that it didn’t interfere with the festivities. Let’s listen to a few comments that Councilman James Carry shared about the situation earlier this morning.”
“Once more our peaceful town is tarnished by the blight of drug trafficking. I can’t say enough about how disappointed I am at the timing of this event. At the very least, there’s one less drug dealer in this town. I can assure you that whoever committed this crime will be caught and penalized for it. In the meantime, the clambake must go on. We can’t allow the influence of something as toxic and cruel as drugs stop us from having a successful end-of-the-summer celebration. We cannot—no, we will not—allow these people to ruin our paradise.”
Chapter 6
Blu turned off the television as the camera cut away from the councilman. It made her a little uncomfortable to think that a man’s life could be less important than a clambake, even if he was a drug dealer—and as far as she was concerned, that was still an if.
“Let’s do some art, kids. Sound good?” Blu wanted to keep their minds off what had happened that morning.
“Paints!” Marley grinned.
“Oh, yes, paints—messy, messy paints.” Blu laughed. “Better than mud, right?”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t want to do art.” Joey sighed. “Art is for babies.”
“Let’s see if you can draw me something that has to do with the clambake, hm?” She smiled at him. “Maybe something you saw or did this morning that you enjoyed?”
“Do I have to?” He looked up at her with wide eyes and lips curled in a pout.
“Just this once. For me?” Blu handed him a piece of white drawing paper.
Joey sighed and took it from her.
“Take it to the kitchen table, please.”
Joey moped his way to the kitchen table with the paper.
Blu and Marley gathered the paints and more paper. Blu filled some small containers with water for the kids to dip their paintbrushes in. She watched as the kids settled into their art activity. She did try to encourage them to be creative, but she had another motive behind the assignment. She was curious whether Joey had seen more than what he’d said. She thought that he might feel more comfortable communicating it in a picture.
While the kids painted at the kitchen table, Blu cleaned up the kitchen. She decided to give Maddie a call and update her on the latest information.
“So you think it’s all drug related?” Maddie asked. “Nowhere is safe any more, is it?”
“Nowhere that money can be made from illegal activity, that’s for sure.”
Blu glanced over at the kids’ paintings. So far, Marley’s featured a big pile of mud and Joey’s looked as if he was attempting to draw every individual piece of sand. Her attention turned back to Maddie on the other end of the phone line. “But at least we know the name of the victim, and Chief Pitman should be able to get an ID of the man who was meeting with him from the description the waitress gave us.”
“I wonder why she’s so afraid of having her name involved?”
“Who knows? Maybe she’s been threatened by him before. If they’ve been meeting at the beach regularly she might have had a run-in with them.”
“That’s true. I don’t blame her for being careful. Sometimes it seems like the police can’t do much to protect people.”
“I agree. That’s why I think it might be a good idea to look into this ourselves.”
“Really? Why?”
“I just think that it can’t hurt to have another set of investigators on the crime. Right?”
“You and your journalistic nature. You just can’t leave it alone, can you?” Maddie’s voice grew lighter with amusement.
“It just bugs me a little. Everyone is so quick to call this man scum, but he was still a man. I wonder if there isn’t something more to him. I just feel like I’d like to know more about who he was.”
“Would you like me to look into him?”
“Yes, I would. If you want to.” She sweetened her voice.
“Sure. I’ll find out what I can. But I hope you won’t be disappointed. Sometimes what you see really is all you get.”
“I know, I know. But I guess there’s a part of me that believes there’s always some kind of redeeming quality to a person.”
“I believe that you are one of the softies.”
“I’m not a softie!”
“Sure, if you say so. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Great. Thanks, Maddie.” Blu hung up the phone and turned back to the kids. When she looked at their paintings she smiled. “Amazing artists in this house. Marley, is that me that you’re throwing mud at?”
“Yup.” Marley swung her feet under the table and giggled.
“And Joey, I love how specific your drawing is. I
see the rowboat that we saw this morning.”
“Yup. And the clam hoe.” He pointed out the tool in the sand beside the rowboat.
Blu was relieved to see that he did not draw the hip waders sticking out from under the boat. She assumed he hadn’t put two and two together about the news report and what he’d painted. She did notice, however, something strange in the sand not far from the boat that he’d painted.
“What’s that, Joey?” She pointed to a bright yellow circle in the sand.
“Oh, it’s a ring. I saw it in the sand this morning.”
“Hm—you didn’t mention that earlier today.” Blu raised an eyebrow.
“I forgot. I knew it wasn’t mine, and I thought someone might come back for it, so I left it there. It wasn’t until I started drawing the sand that I remembered. It was shiny—that’s why I noticed it. But the clam hoe was way cooler.”
“Did it have a stone of some kind in it? Like a diamond or a ruby?”
“No, but I think it had some letters on it.”
“Do you remember what they were?” Blu leaned closer to him.
Joey tucked his lower lip under his teeth and looked up at the ceiling. Then he painted two letters onto his picture.
“A and L? Those are the letters that you saw?”
“Yes.” Joey smiled. “I think so. It’s hard to remember.”
“Thanks for telling me.” She smiled. “Your painting is wonderful.”
“Thank you. But it’s not done yet.” He went back to his painting.
Chapter 7
Blu wondered if the ring Joey had painted might lead them to some evidence. Had the killer left it behind? Did George leave it there? She picked up her phone to call AJ, but when she looked down his name was already on her screen, indicating an incoming call.
“Hello?” Blu smiled. “I was just about to call you.”
“Aha, great minds think alike.”
“I guess so.” Blu tried to ignore the flutter of her heart.
“I wanted to give you an update on the case. My uncle let me know that George died as a result of being held down in the mud.”
“Oh, how awful.”
“Yes, it is.” He cleared his throat. “He might not have been a good man, but no one deserves to die like that.”
“Did you tell the chief about the man that Cathy saw?”
“Yes. Boy, did that conversation not go well. He let me know that he wasn’t happy I wouldn’t tell him who saw the man. Don’t be surprised if he calls to question you.”
“I won’t be.” Blu rolled her eyes. “I have something to tell you too. If you want to pass it on to your uncle it’s okay, but I’d rather Joey not be involved.”
“I understand. What is it?”
“I had the kids paint pictures of their fun this morning, and Joey painted the rowboat.”
“But he didn’t see what was underneath, did he?”
“I don’t think so. But he did paint a gold ring in the sand. He said it was there when he found the clam hoe. I thought it might be of use to the case.”
“Hm. I’ll check with my uncle to see if it was logged into evidence.”
“Great.”
“Blu, can we get some time alone tonight—to talk?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think Rachel is going to need me to watch the kids tonight.”
AJ was silent on the other end of the phone. The silence said a lot more than any words could. When he finally spoke his voice was rougher than usual.
“Then we’ll see each other tomorrow at the clambake?”
“Absolutely.”
Blu hung up the phone before he could say anything else. Her heart pounded as she gripped the phone. She knew that time was running out. She was going to have to be willing to talk to AJ eventually. The only problem was, she wasn’t at all sure what she’d have to say. Was she going to tell him that it was over between them before anything had really begun? Or was she going to offer the opportunity for them to get together later after she’d left the beach? It was hard for her to figure out what she wanted, so how could she possibly expect him to understand her confusion?
“Alright, kids, let’s clean up. Your mom should be home soon.”
Blu took their paintings and put them on the back porch to dry. As she looked out at the water she felt a subtle tug. She would miss the beach life when they returned to the city, but if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t so much the sun and the sand that had her heart, but the man whom she was doing her very best to avoid.
When Blu stepped back inside, her cell phone was ringing. She picked it up to see that it was Maddie. “Hello?”
“Hi, Blu. I thought you might want to know what I found out about George.”
“Yes, that would be great.”
“I am getting to know George very well, thanks to his ex-wife Betty. She’s been blasting him all over social media. Apparently she’s remarried, but the marriage isn’t considered legal because George never followed through with his end of the paperwork. I don’t even think she knows that George is dead yet. Her latest post is about him not showing up for a meeting this morning.”
“Interesting. I wonder if the police have spoken to her?”
“They might not, since technically they aren’t married.”
“Do you have her address?”
“Yes, it’s only about twenty minutes away. Do you want me to watch the kids so that you can go talk to her?”
“Oh, you know me far too well.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Ha, more like seven.”
“Now you’re pushing it.”
“We’ll see.” Maddie laughed as they hung up the phone.
Blu herded the kids into the car. Both were quite excited to go see Brennan and Chrissa.
When Blu pulled into the driveway it had been exactly seven minutes. She sat in the car until it was eight, then she and the kids walked up to the front door. Blu knocked and Maddie swung the door open with a big smile on her face.
“Detective Blu, I presume?”
“Indeed.”
“I saw you sitting in the driveway.” Maddie shook her head. “It was seven minutes.”
“Maybe you’re the detective.” Blu laughed.
“I like to think of myself as your research assistant. You know, the perky sidekick that does all of the actual work.”
“Perky, yes.” Blu ducked as Maddie swung a playful punch at her.
“So I suppose these little rugrats are mine now, hm?” Maddie winked at Marley and Joey.
“Just for a little while.” Blu grinned.
“It’s no problem. Chrissa has been dying to get her hands on Marley’s hair again. This time I promise, no hair dye.”
“Good.” Blu laughed.
“Is Brennan home?” Joey slid past Blu and Maddie into the house.
“He’s upstairs playing a new video game, Joey.”
“Yes!” Joey raced up the stairs.
“Looks like they’re going to have a fun afternoon. Thanks, Maddie.”
“Just remember this when I’m calling you for help figuring out Brennan’s math homework.” She shook her head. “Never in my life did I think I’d be doing homework again.”
Chapter 8
Blu walked back to her car with a smile on her lips. She enjoyed being able to share the trials of being a nanny with Maddie. Sure, it was a fun job, but it wasn’t always easy.
As she drove toward the address that she’d programmed into her GPS, she wondered what she’d find when she arrived. Maddie had forwarded her a few of Betty’s posts, and they weren’t very nice at all. The woman used colorful language to depict exactly what she’d do to her ex-husband when she saw him again.
There was no question of motive there, but Blu knew of plenty of ex-spouses that had motive to kill. That didn’t make them all murderers.
It wasn’t long before Blu turned down a sparsely inhabited street. The proper
ties were large, but Betty’s home was the smallest of the bunch. The home was a sprawling ranch with several cars parked out front.
Blu parked between two of the cars. She took the time to study the environment for a few minutes, as she had no idea what she was walking into. Right away she noticed large boots outside the front door. There was also a pair of shears propped up against the side of the porch. The yard was neat, but not flourishing. It was just a simple home.
She opened her car door and stepped out. When she walked up the driveway, she saw that the garage door needed a fresh coat of paint. The gutters along the front of the house sagged.
She knocked on the front door and waited for an answer. With so many cars parked around the property she expected that someone must be home, but after her second set of knocks the door still didn’t open.
She was about to walk away when she heard a shout and some laughter from the backyard. With careful steps, she picked her away around the side of the house. When she peeked around the back corner she saw that there were many lawn chairs, a large fire pit, and a grill in the backyard. At least ten people were gathered around the fire pit. More laughter came from the group.
Blu walked toward the gathering.
“Hi. Sorry to interrupt.”
A woman stood up and peered at her. She wore a sleeveless black t-shirt that showed off several intricate tattoos. “Can I help you?”
“My name is Blu. I’m here to speak with Betty.”
“I’m Betty.” She tilted her head to the side. “But I can’t say that I’ve ever seen you before. I’m sure we haven’t met.”
“No, I don’t think we have. Actually I’m here to tell you some bad news. I’m sorry that it would come at a time of celebration.”
“Oh, it’s just a little party.” She shrugged. “What’s the bad news? If it’s about the mortgage, I’ll be paying it soon.”
“No, it’s not about that. It’s about your ex-husband, George.”
“Oh?” She smirked. “What about him?”
Blu shifted from one foot to the other. Somehow, during the minutes leading up to the meeting with Betty, it had never occurred to Blu that she would be the one informing the woman of her ex-husband’s death. She suddenly felt underqualified. She took a deep breath and looked Betty in the eyes. “I’m afraid that George passed away this morning.”