Safety in Blunders (The Worst Detective Ever Book 3)

by Christy Barritt

  Zane stopped me by gripping my arms as we stood face to face. “Those guys who attend those parties think they own the world. They’re rich. They’re successful. And they feel untouchable.”

  I got that. But something still didn’t make sense. “Okay . . . but why the parties?”

  “I suppose they don’t feel like any of the nightlife in this area is suitable for someone with their stature.”

  “Really? That’s pretty presumptuous.”

  Zane released me and put his hands on his hips. “Billy charges a fee for them to come. It’s discreet. They network. They party. They meet girls. If anyone gets out of line, they face consequences.”

  “What kind?”

  “One guy I know had his face rearranged.”

  All the moisture left my throat. “What was going on in that back room? I thought I was going to get you arrested.”

  “Gambling. Some marijuana.”

  That wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. “Zane, how do you know these guys?”

  He ran a hand over his eyes and stepped back. Laid-back Zane was nowhere to be seen. “I haven’t always done things I’m proud of, Joey.”

  “One of the men there was a wanted criminal!”

  “I know, okay?”

  “He embezzled money, and he was involved in a hit-and-run.”

  He jerked his eyes open and locked gazes with me. “Joey, I wouldn’t have gone if you hadn’t been there. You know that, right?”

  I nodded, more confused than ever. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  He took my hand and kissed my fingers. “I didn’t want to see anything happen to you.”

  “I appreciate that. Truly.”

  “I introduced you to Billy, and I’ll never forgive myself if you get tangled in his net.”

  Tangled in his net? I envisioned a mermaid, caught and unable to get away.

  And that was when I knew I couldn’t drop this.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You look distracted,” Dizzy said.

  It was just my luck that today was another extremely slow day at the salon. I needed to stay busy to distract myself from my heavy thoughts. So far, I’d organized shampoo. Counted my tip jar. Mopped the floor. Now I was painting my nails a lovely teal.

  “I had a rough night.” I had circles under my eyes. A high bun because I didn’t feel like fixing my hair. And even though my outfit was decent, I still felt slouchy.

  Too many things raced through my mind. Things like Billy’s party. Jackson bursting in. The rounds of questions afterward.

  The new realization that Jackson hated me again.

  We seemed to keep doing this dance. Get close. Get on his bad side. Pull away. Get close again.

  It was enough to make my head spin. And I hated the fact that I even cared.

  “What happened?” Dizzy sat down across from me and fanned her face as “Blue Christmas” played overhead.

  “I decided to go to a party Billy Corbina was hosting so I could find out information about something,” I admitted, stroking the brush across my fingernail but hitting a cuticle instead.

  “Any party that Billy has can’t be a good one.”

  I had a feeling that Dizzy and her friends could match their craziness, just in a different way.

  I frowned and used another nail to wipe the polish from my cuticle. “It wasn’t. The police came. Said it was about underage drinking, but I think they secretly suspected that a drug deal was going on.”

  “Was there some brown sugar? Crank? Speckled birds?”

  I froze from my manicure. “How do you know those street names?”

  She shrugged. “I watched Breaking Bad.”

  I just couldn’t see her watching that show, but I nodded. “Anyway, nothing going on there seemed on the up and up.”

  She continued to fan herself. “I’m surprised Billy let you go. He usually keeps his inner circle pretty close.”

  “I guess I am too.” I blew on my nails, trying to forget everything that had happened, including the disappointment on Jackson’s face that I had been part of such a scene.

  “Did you discover anything for your investigation, at least?”

  I let out a deep breath. “It’s hard to say. I confirmed that the missing girl had been there last week. Did she overhear something about some drug deals that got her killed? Did something else happen? I don’t know.”

  “I thought it was the photographer in the preserve with the . . . camera?” She shrugged. “I was trying to make it sound like the game of Clue.”

  I turned my chair left and right. Left and right. “I think he’s clear. He’s a con artist, and maybe he should be in jail. But we don’t think he hurt Cora. His alibi checked out. He met a girl for drinks right after his session with Cora.”

  “So where does this leave you?”

  I shrugged “I have no idea. I had a clue from the 7-Eleven where Cora stopped. The guy working there saw a beat-up white pickup outside. Cora was arguing with the driver. I can be certain that no one at the party last night would dare sink as low as to drive a beat-up truck like that.”

  “I see.”

  “Cora also purchased an umbrella stand. The photographer said there was no umbrella in their session. So why did she stop and buy one?”

  “Good question.”

  “I’m not ready to drop what happened at Billy’s. I just don’t know how to prove anything illegal there—unless sleaziness is outlawed. Something definitely wasn’t on the up and up.”

  “Oh, you’ll figure it out, Joey. I just know you will.”

  Cora had been missing for six days. Every day the likelihood that we would find her diminished more and more. I wished that she would just pop up somewhere and admit that she’d taken off on a crazy whim. I had wished the same thing about my father, but that hadn’t come to fruition.

  I’d promised Elrod I would help. And I planned on doing just that.

  As I normally did, I went on my lunch break to Oh Buoy. The place was hopping today, so I didn’t have time to talk to Phoebe. I grabbed a corner booth and sat with my back to the rest of the building.

  This was a no-no for professional law enforcement. Raven had taught me that. You should always sit where you could watch people and get a feel for who was coming and going.

  Today I wanted to be alone and block out the world.

  Which might have been fine if someone didn’t slide in across from me. I’d hoped it might be Phoebe, but I was sadly mistaken.

  It was Billy Corbina.

  I swallowed hard and tried to stay as cool as my Coquina Crush. “Billy. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “Where’d you think I’d be? Jail?”

  In this light I could clearly see a scar at his temple. I’d never noticed it before. Of course, I usually saw him in dark, distasteful places.

  “I didn’t say that,” I told him.

  “Were you at my party last night as part of a setup?”

  Sweat tried to break out across my forehead. “No, the police knew nothing about it.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Because I heard you’re working with them now.”

  “Working with them would be a stretch. I’m just doing research.”

  “You do a lot of research.”

  “I take my roles very seriously. Do you think it’s easy looking that super-intelligent?” What did I just say?

  Amusement flashed in his eyes.

  “Besides, do you think Jackson Sullivan is going to let me anywhere close to one of his investigations? He hates me. He’d trust a parolee faster than he’d trust me handling a sensitive case.”

  Billy let out a deep chuckle that ended abruptly with a threatening stare. “What project is this for?”

  “It’s all hush-hush. I’m under contract.” Under contract with myself. That wasn’t an important detail to share.

  He leaned closer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

  “Where what is going?” I totally agreed with the sentiment
, and apprehension slithered through me. As “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” rang out on the overhead, I wished the reggae number rang true in my life.

  He leaned toward me, that tiger-hunting-its-prey look flashing in his eyes again. “I think you’re up to something.”

  I drew in a deep breath. Think like Raven, Joey. Think like Raven. Remain cool. In control. Unflappable. That was when I decided to turn the tables. “The real question is: What are you up to, Billy?”

  His gaze still looked cool as he leaned back. “I’ve been conducting my business in this area for a long time. Much longer than you’ve been around town. I don’t intend to stop.”

  By business, I was pretty sure he didn’t mean Willie Wahoo’s. “Describe your business.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s none of yours. Let’s just say there are people who come to this area for a good time, and I give it to them. Nothing illegal about it.”

  He wasn’t the only one with pressing questions. I leveled my gaze with him. “What do you know about Cora Day, the girl who disappeared from Nags Head Woods? I know she was at one of your parties.”

  His face went a little paler. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do.” I wasn’t letting him off that hook that easily.

  “Anyone who comes to my shindigs comes on their own free will.”

  “Maybe she came by her own free will. But what happened while she was there? Did things go south?”

  His gaze cooled even more. “You’re a little troublemaker, aren’t you?”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  “All I know is that she left in a hurry. Didn’t even say goodbye.”

  “What happened before she left?”

  “She was just talking to some guys.”

  That was a start. “Which ones?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Of course you’re not.” I may or may not have rolled my eyes at that one.

  Billy leaned closer, animosity gleaming in his eyes. “You need to stay away from this. Stay away from my parties. I know where to find you, Joey.”

  I shivered in my fake-bamboo seat. That was clearly a threat. “What happens if I don’t?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I found Zane after I got off work. He was beneath the duplex, hard at work restoring an old surfboard. He had curls of . . . some substance I couldn’t identify . . . stuck to his shirt, a sheen of sweat across his shoulders, and the very attractive look of concentration on his face.

  Until he saw me.

  Then his face lit up like the red carpet at the Oscars. He put his planing tool down and turned toward me.

  “Hey, Joey!”

  “Nice-looking board.” And it was. It had a retro vibe to it, with dark-brown sides and a deep-orange stripe down the middle.

  “Isn’t she a beaut? I call her the Daytona. This girl has seen more waves in her lifetime than me and all my surfing buddies combined.”

  “You working on it for a client?”

  Zane nodded. “That’s right. There’s a lot of joy in fixing these girls up. With her history, there’s no way she should become a wall hanging at some rental house. No, she’s still got some years left in her.”

  “I’m glad you can help with her makeover then.”

  “Speaking of being glad . . . I’m glad you’re here. I have a question for you.”

  “What’s that?” I leaned against the door of the outside shower. Colors of the sunset smeared in the distance, and the temperature had noticeably dropped, making me wish I had a sweatshirt.

  “What in the world am I supposed to wear to the movie premiere? I need to get a tux, right? Any special kind of tux?”

  I quickly reviewed our last conversation in my mind. I couldn’t remember confirming that he was going with me to the premiere of Family Secrets. Had I? He seemed pretty assured he was.

  So I must have given him that impression, and I supposed that was fine. It was better than going alone. Especially since Eric would be there.

  “You’re coming?” I clarified.

  “Oh yeah. Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He twisted his head. “Did I misunderstand? Didn’t you invite me? Because if I got the wrong impression, I totally get it. Don’t feel like I have to go.”

  I tried to replay our conversation again.

  “I’ve got to plan our next undertaking,” Zane had said.

  “It will have to be after my movie premiere.”

  He’d raised his eyebrows. “Or will it?”

  “I must have only half been paying attention. And of course I’d love for you to come. Tuxes are a must. We can get you one when we get to LA though. You don’t want to travel with it.”

  He rubbed the side of his surfboard. “Smart thinking. I’m so excited. I think this will be a lot of fun.”

  “Yeah, totally.” I perched myself on a bench in front of him. “I have a question for you also.”

  He brushed his hand across the board before coming to sit beside me. “What’s going on?”

  “I know you told me that the guys at the parties are no good. But you also said you were invited to one of those parties. What’s your association?”

  “Like I told you, Billy and I went to high school together. We were close. We’re not anymore. But he still likes to remember me as I used to be.”

  I didn’t have to ask Zane, but I knew the truth. Zane had a drug problem as a teen, and Billy had been a part of that scene. No doubt there were a lot of bad memories there.

  “I need to figure out who those guys are, Zane,” I said. “One of them may know what happened to Cora. Her life could be in danger.”

  He flicked a shaving curl off his shirt. “What if she just ran away? Ran off to Hollywood to try and make it big? What if there’s no foul play here at all?”

  “There was blood. You saw it.”

  “She could have cut herself. Walking barefoot maybe?”

  “But what if she didn’t? What if she’s in trouble? I have the potential to do something to help her. I plan on doing that. I don’t understand why you’re giving me so much opposition. What happened to your bucket list? To your hashtag adventures?”

  He ran a hand through his hair.

  I leaned forward. “You know I’m doing it with or without you, right?”

  “Yeah, I know that.” He let out another sigh. “One of his guys is Rupert Murphy. He’s the one who was hitting on you when I got to the party.”

  “What do you know about this Rupert guy?”

  “I met him at a surfing competition. Billy hosted a party afterward. I don’t know him well, but I know he has a lot of money. Not sure where he gets it. He has a house here and also one up in New Jersey, I think. He drives fast cars, he loves women, and he’s fearless.”

  “Where can I find this guy?”

  Zane pressed his lips together a moment, as if contemplating how much to say. Finally, he looked at me. “There’s a back room at Willie’s for VIP customers. He usually hangs out there.”

  There was no way I was going into Willie’s again, not after my conversation with Billy earlier today. Instead, I sat in the parking lot, watching from the safety of my Miata and waiting for something to happen.

  The bad news was that my red Mazda Miata stood out in this parking lot like Lady Gaga at a Christian music festival. The good news was that I wasn’t alone.

  Zane sat beside me, eating peanuts again. Apparently one of his real estate clients from Virginia had given him a big bag of fresh-from-the-earth squirrel food. He had eating them down to a science. Crack the shell open. Use shell like a holder. Cock head back. Flop peanuts into mouth. Repeat.

  Darkness had fallen. Music from the inside blared out through the nearly nonexistent windows in the place—never a good sign for a restaurant if there were no windows. In my experience, at least. People went in looking normal and left laughing too hard and staggering off balan
ce.

  “What are you going to do if and when Rupert comes out?” Zane placed his discarded shells in a plastic bag.

  “Follow him.” I’d already decided that.

  “And then what?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “If he goes home, I can’t exactly go inside after him.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “There are a lot of variables here.” I’d tried to think through several scenarios, but I knew what I did best—or worst, depending on who asked. I played it by ear.

  A moment of silence stretched between us.

  Zane leaned back and attempted to stretch his long legs in the cramped space. He’d worn his favorite ripped jeans and a yellow sweatshirt with Slick Ocean across the front. “Any more word from your super stalker fan club?”

  That was what I’d started calling the group of somewhat extreme fans. It all began back in LA with one man named Leonard. I’d gotten a restraining order against him, and he’d seemed to have disappeared.

  Until I came here to the Outer Banks.

  Then he popped up again. And he had an accomplice who still remained faceless.

  Then it turned out there were more than two. In fact, there was a whole little club of people who considered themselves fans, and they operated a site on the dark web. Also, apparently, they liked to post my schedule to make it easier for other stalkers who wanted to make my life miserable.

  “No, they’ve been strangely quiet lately.” I took a sip of my coffee. I’d stopped by my favorite place, Sunrise Coffee Co., on the way here. Priorities.

  “Quiet is good, right?”

  “Sometimes the quiet is suspicious.” Because I was sure they were still out there and still watching. Probably planning and plotting their next attempt to keep Raven Remington alive.

  Jackson had opened a file on them, but so far the police had no luck tracking anyone down. It was all weird, almost like these guys were professionals. Professional stalkers? I shuddered just thinking about it. But how else had they eluded authorities? Eluded me? And they always seemed to know what was going on. It was all very strange.

  Zane elbowed me and sat up. “Believe it or not, that’s Rupert right there. He’s leaving Willie’s.”