by Mark Stone
After the Sunset: Coastal Justice Suspense Series Book 6
Mark Stone
Chapter 1
I fidgeted uncomfortably as I took a look around this place. The lights were soft, the music was softer, and I was surrounded by people in black ties, long gowns, and expensive jewelry. Needless to say, I was out of my element.
Still, there was a woman across the room who had my heart. She was talking to important people right now; laughing along to jokes I probably wouldn’t understand, sipping drinks I didn’t care for, and shooting me a look that told me that-like myself, she’d rather be curled up on the couch in the Good Storm than where she was now.
I’d have walked through a minefield if I thought it would make her smile. So, wading through a night of pretentious talk at a political function was barely a blip on the radar.
“Not your scene, is it?” a woman’s voice asked from beside me. Putting on my game face, I turned to find a sandy haired woman with rounded features and a bright smile looking up at me. She had a Corona in her hand, which already made her one of the cooler people in this particular room, and the way she stood- with a hip jutted outward- told me she didn’t really care if she fit in with the stuffed shirts surrounding us now.
I couldn’t help but smile in response. “I’m guessing we have similar scenes,” I answered. “Judging by your choice of drink at least.” I leaned in closer, almost whispering. “Where’d you get that anyway?”
“From my secret stash in the back, of course,” she answered, taking a swig.
“Must be nice,” I answered, giving her a once over. She was a middle-aged woman; the sort of woman who was old enough to be comfortable in her own skin without having to try too much.
“It’d be a lot nicer if I had somebody to share it with,” she said, shooting me a smile.
I shuffled uncomfortably, running a hand through hair that was a lot more fancied up than my usual.
“I’m engaged,” I answered, giving her a consolatory smile.
Her eyes widened and she laughed so hard I was afraid she was going to draw every eye in the room. Slapping me on the shoulder, she said, “Don’t flatter yourself, Son. You’re handsome and all, but I could be your mother, and I’m not really the cougar type.” Shaking her head and wiping a tear born of laughter from her eye, she added, “I just wanted a decent conversation, and you looked like my best shot.”
“Oh,” I balked, more embarrassed than I cared to admit at the moment. “I guess that’s different then.”
My eyes trailed to Rebecca, who was busy talking to a man whose face was on all of the posters hanging in the room we were standing in at the moment.
“That’s your girl?” the woman asked, following my eyes.
“Yes,” I answered, shaking my head and offering my hand. “I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m Dillon Storm. The woman I was looking at is Rebecca Day. She’s-”
“A doctor,” the woman interrupted. “I know her. That must make you the detective.” She looked me up and down again. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good?” I asked.
“I hope not,” she responded. “That would be way too boring.” Shaking my hand, she introduced herself. “I’m Lilith Mayberry. It’s good to meet you, Dillon Storm.”
“Mayberry?” I asked, looking at the posters hanging throughout the room. “You mean like-”
“Gary Mayberry is my husband,” she answered, looking at the man who was- at this moment- telling a story to my fiancé and throwing his hands wildly. “That’s him,” she chuckled, looking at the way he flailed about and taking another swig of Corona. “That’s your future mayor. Hope you guys aren’t expecting too much.”
I laughed despite myself. “You’re being too hard on him,” I said. “I know Rebecca is a big fan of your husband’s policies. She really believes in him.” I shook my head. “Lord knows he’d have to be better than the current mayor.”
“Funny enough, that’s almost word for word what we put on the campaign banners,” Lilith answered.
I laughed again. “You’re a riot. Can I take it you never thought of yourself as a mayor’s wife?”
“Never thought of myself as much more than a fisherman’s daughter to be honest with you,” Lilith said. “But this is what you get when you marry a man with ambition.” She looked over at Rebecca. “Or a woman with ambition, but something tells me you’ll find that out soon enough.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“It means grab a Corona and I’ll tell you,” Lilith said. Motioning toward the back door that, up to this point, I had only seen the evening’s waiters and waitresses enter and exit through. “Unless, of course, you think your lady can’t handle the competition.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling too widely. “I think she’ll understand,” I said. I nodded in her direction. “After you.”
Lilith shot her husband a look. The man who was down three points in the polls (according to my brand-new fiancé) smiled at his wife and then gave her a look that seemed to be heavy with some sort of thinly veiled sorrow.
For a split second, I tried to decipher what it could have meant. The election was close enough that Gary Mayberry winning was something of a longshot. Maybe the look was meant to lament that fact. Maybe what I was seeing was nothing more than two people coming to terms with the fact that their plans would be fruitless.
I shook that idea off as I followed the woman into the backroom. If being in a relationship as long and complex as the one I shared with Rebecca had taught me anything, it was that you could never really judge a book by its cover. No one would be able to look at Rebecca and I and see all the nuance that existed between us. I was sure the same could be said for Lilith and Gary; perhaps even more so given the amount of time the pair had been married.
“Are you guys excited for election day?” I asked as we walked straight through the kitchen, passed the waiters and waitresses, and out the backdoor. It didn’t escape my attention that we bypassed the fridge completely and, with it, the Corona that had been our entire reason for following her…or so I thought.
“I’ll be excited for the day after,” she answered, turning to me, her hair shining against the Florida moon. “For things to get back to normal.”
“Those don’t sound like the words of a confident woman,” I said, glaring at her.
“To the contrary, Dillon,” she said, taking another swig of her drink. “I’m about as confident as they come. It’s just that- unlike my husband- I know which battles to pick.”
“None of us can predict the future, Lilith. We don’t have superpowers,” I said, finding myself wanting to say something to make the woman feel better.
“You don’t need superpowers to know the future in Naples, Dillon,” she said. “You just have to remember what the past looked like.” She sighed. “Edward Chambers has been mayor for years now, and there’s a reason for that.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Because his campaign budget is ten times what any of his opponents have ever had.”
“Because he has the richest people in town in his pocket,” Lilith said.
Immediately, my brother’s face flashed through my mind. Peter Storm was one of those rich people, and I had little doubt he was as close to Edward Chambers as anyone in town, especially considering the way our father used to fawn over the man.
“Don’t you get it, though?” I asked, my face brightening up. “That could very well be the thing that finally takes him out. Your husband has people excited. Lord knows he’s got my fiancé happy about the idea of some change here.” I nodded. “You can never underestimate the power of the common man, Lilith. Especially when he or she is fed up with the way things have
been.”
“Tell it to the polls,” she shot back.
“Polls aren’t always right,” I answered.
Lilith smiled at me. “I’m not sure whether you actually believe that or you’re just saying it to make me feel better.”
I shrugged. “Does it really matter?”
“Not a bit,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve noticed you haven’t gotten your drink yet.”
“I can be patient,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “That’s a good trait to have. Passion is another good trait, along with a hunger for justice. I know you have those traits too, Dillon. Your reputation precedes you.”
“You pull your brother out of one casket and the world never forgets it,” I said, smiling a little as I ran a hand through my hair. “It does beg a certain question though, Lilith. Why am I here?”
“Because I need someone I can trust, Dillon,” she said.
“Trust?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “You seem like a nice person to me, but I’m not sure I’m your guy there. You don’t even know me. How on earth could you trust me?”
“You don’t have to eat supper with someone to know their heart, Dillon Storm,” Lilith said. “My grandfather used to tell me that.”
“Mine didn’t, but it sure sounds like something he’d say,” I admitted.
“It just means that I can tell who you are from your actions and from the people you surround yourself with,” she answered. “You see the truth and you fight to protect those who can’t protect themselves. I have a need for that tonight, Dillon. I need your help.”
“I’m all ears,” I answered as a breeze cut across my face, singing its way off the gulf.
“There’s a boy,” she said. Then, rolling her eyes, amended, “He’s a man, I suppose. His name is Dennis, and I need you to arrest him.”
“Alright,” I said, nodding. “Has he done anything illegal?”
“I’m sure he has,” she answered.
“That’s not really how it works, Lilith,” I said, pursing my lips together. “But you know that. You know that, in order to arrest someone, I need to know a crime has been committed.”
“And what if the big crime, the one I’m talking about here, hasn’t been committed yet?” Lilith asked, biting her lower lip.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I admitted, looking at the woman.
“My son, Dillon,” she said, sighing loudly. “If you don’t arrest Dennis, he’s going to kill my son.”
Chapter 2
My eyes went wide as I looked the woman over, trying to find some sense of levity to her words. This had to be a joke. In my time as a police officer, I had seen a lot of things. This was intense though, and it was more than a little strange.
“This person, Dennis, is going to kill your son?” I asked, my eyebrows arching upward.
“That’s what I said, Dillon,” she answered, her mouth thinning into a narrow line across her face.
“Why would you think that?” I asked, my body tensing. “Has he threatened him? Has he told him he means to do him harm?”
“No,” Lilith scoffed. “How ridiculous would that be? You don’t tell the person you’re trying to kill that you’re trying to kill them. I’m sure they taught you that much in the police academy.”
“You’d be surprised what people do and don’t do, Lilith,” I said, glaring at her.
“Be that as it may, Dennis hasn’t said a word to Joel about killing him. I’ve tried to warn him myself, but Joel and I have had our differences lately. We’re not on the best terms and, because of that, he wouldn’t listen to me when I told him what I heard.”
“And what is that, Lilith?” I asked, swallowing hard. “What did you hear that would lead you to believe your son’s friend wants to kill him?”
“He was at our house long before all of this election nonsense started,” she said, shuffling. “Dennis and Joel have been friends since they were in first grade. They were on the high school football team together. They were roommates in college. Dennis has spent more nights in our house than the dogs have.” She nodded. “He was practically a part of the family. So, when I heard him on the phone a few weeks ago talking about Joel being a problem and about how he was going to take care of it, I couldn’t believe it.”
“That’s what you heard?” I asked. “That this Dennis person was going to fix a problem for Joel?”
“He said Joel was the problem. He said he was going to take care of him, which is the same as saying he wants to ki-”
“It isn’t,” I said, shaking my head. “And you heard one end of a conversation; one end from a person who you yourself admits is basically a part of the family.”
“Families kill each other all the time,” Lilith said. “Certainly, you’ve seen that.”
I thought about Angela Storm, my father’s widow, and a person who had tried to kill not only myself but my half-brother Peter as well.
“Usually there’s more evidence than a vague phone call,” I admitted softly. Just because this woman was reaching didn’t mean I had to make her feel bad about it.
“You’re starting to sound like my husband,” Lilith said, dropping the Corona bottle on a nearby table. “He keeps telling me I’m losing it. He keeps saying this election is getting the better of me. He said that I was reliving the past.”
She took a deep breath, and I knew what she was about to get into. “I lost a son, Dillon.”
I knew her son had died. Sam Mayberry’s death last year in a house fire was a tragedy. In fact, his father said that the horrible event was what spurred him to run for mayor in the first place. He often said that it taught him that life was too short not to make a difference while you can.
“I was sorry to hear that,” I said in a solemn tone.
“I appreciate that,” she answered. “But that’s beside the point. I know what I heard, Dillon. I know the tone Dennis took on the phone. He meant business.”
“Why not talk to him about this?” I asked. “I mean, if you really think your son’s best friend is out to get him, talk to the kid about it. Tell him to watch his back.”
“I told you he won’t listen to me,” Lilith shot back. “He thinks I’m being ridiculous. He thinks this is one big joke. Hell, he’s even with Dennis tonight.”
“Then tell the police,” I answered.
“That’s what I’m doing,” she balked.
“Not like this,” I said. “Go to the department. We can go over what you heard and fill out a report.”
“So I can get laughed at like last time?” she sneered, shaking her head. “I went to the department last year. I told a cop that the fire that killed Sam wasn’t an accident. He sent me away, told me the fire department ruled it an electrical thing and that I was being ridiculous. Besides, I already went to the department about this. I talked to your boss.”
“Boomer?” I asked.
“I should have known he wasn’t going to do anything,” she said. “I should have known he would hear Dennis’ name and close the book on all of this.”
“His name?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“Yes,” Lilith said. “Dennis Chambers.”
“Chambers?” I asked. “Like Edward Chambers?” I ran a hand through my hair again. “Your son’s best friend, the man you think is going to kill him, is the son of your husband’s political opponent?”
Lilith blinked at me. “Did I forget to mention that?”
Chapter 3
“You should have seen her, Rebecca,” I said, setting the table in the dining room/living area of The Good Storm as my fiancé stirred a simmering pot in the kitchen. “She was so sure, and completely serious.”
“She really thought the mayor’s son was going to kill hers?” Rebecca asked, looking up from a pot of her grandmother’s famous old world marinara sauce. The recipe was a secret, passed down to Day women for generations. I was assured that, even after we got married, I’d never be told what the secret ingredient was. That was an honor re
served for Rebecca and my daughter, should the Good Lord see fit to bless us with one. I did know that, whatever was in it, was something really special.
“She did,” I answered, folding a napkin under the end of the plate and setting silverware that had never been as clean as they were when Rebecca was onboard atop it. “Said she heard him talking about taking care of him.”
“That sounds pretty serious,” Rebecca said, staring up at me as the mouthwatering scent of the sauce wafted over to me. “Maybe you should bring it up to Boomer.”
“I did,” I answered. “Woke him up and everything.”
“Boomer’s asleep already?” Rebecca asked, grinning. “It’s barely 10 o’clock at night. Where’s that wild man I always hear stories about?”
“He had kids, got fat, and then lame,” I answered, chuckling. “In that order.”
Rebecca shrugged. “I can think of worse fates.”
“Me too,” I said, smiling at her. Though we hadn’t explicitly talked about it since her ex-husband came to town asking her to be his surrogate (aside from the whole secret sauce fiasco), it was common knowledge between Rebecca and I that we both wanted kids.
I had no interest in waiting. Hell, if I could have swept her up tonight and hopped a plane to Vegas and one of those all night chapels, I’d have had Rebecca married by the morning and nursing a baby bump by the end of next week.
That wasn’t what she wanted though. She had blown it the first time, marriage wise (or so she said). She wanted to do it right this time around. She wanted a big wedding, either in a chapel or on the beach. She wanted the people she loved to be there. She wanted to dance until we were too tired to stand, and then she wanted to drive off into the sunset to start a brand-new life together.
As far as I was concerned, I was already off into the sunset. I had gotten there the instant she said yes, the second she allowed me to slip my grandmother’s wedding ring on her perfect finger.
She had given me that. So, I would give her this. I would dance all night. I would stand there, beaming like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world, as she walked toward me and made my life worthwhile. I would do it happily, and I would spend every day thanking God that He saw fit to let me.