“Yeah.” I didn’t bother going into the bathroom to change my clothes, instead stripping out of my shorts and climbing into bed wearing nothing but a T-shirt. I was too tired to go through my normal nightly routine, the one I spazzed over whenever Galen decided to sleep over. There was no frantic brushing of the hair or strategic makeup removal. There was no diligent cleaning of the teeth. For tonight, I simply wanted sleep. “Do you think Madame Selena had something to do with Trish’s murder?”
I couldn’t see Galen’s reaction because he’d hit the lights just as I finished asking the question. I heard him at the end of the bed for a moment, probably stripping down to his own form of pajamas. When he slid into bed next to me, he was shirtless and warm.
“I don’t know,” Galen replied finally, sliding his arm under my waist and positioning me so my head was on his shoulder. “Under normal circumstances she would jump to the head of the suspect line. I’ve been thinking about it a bit, and I can’t come up with a motive for her.”
I was exhausted and yet my mind remained busy as I snuggled closer to Galen. He rubbed soothing circles on my back. I knew it was an attempt to lull me to sleep. I was fine with it, although I remained focused on the case. “Maybe she was having an affair with Henry or something. He is divorced, after all, and they’re roughly the same age.”
“I guess that’s a possibility.” Galen’s lips brushed my forehead. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I stifled a yawn. “Or maybe Madame Selena was having an affair with Gus and he left her everything in his will … but only if Trish predeceased him. That would explain why she killed both of them.”
Galen chuckled. “Your mind is a fascinating place. “Get some sleep and we’ll revisit it in the morning.”
“Okay.” I was already drifting. “I’m sorry in advance if I snore.”
“Don’t worry about it. I kind of like it.”
I was still wondering if that was true when I slipped under.
I WOKE IN THE EXACT same position, my head on Galen’s shoulder and my hand on his bare chest. I thought he was still asleep because the morning sun was barely filtering through the window, but he shook me of that belief when he placed his hand on top of mine and kissed my forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
I tilted my chin so I could look into his eyes. “Okay. I thought you were still asleep.”
“I’ve only been up a few minutes.”
“Doing what?”
“Watching you sleep.” Galen’s grin was quick and easy. “You make little sighing noises when you’re out. It’s kind of cute.”
I pursed my lips. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“You definitely will.” He smoothed my hair. “Are you ready to greet the day or do you want to fondle me some more?”
I was aghast. “I haven’t fondled you!”
“You have so. You rub your hand all over my chest and make purring noises in your sleep. Frankly, I think I’m a majestic gentleman for not taking advantage of you given those noises. Sometimes they’re sighs, but other times they’re kitty growling noises.”
Oh, now he was just making things up. “Do you think I’m going to fall for that?”
Galen shrugged. “I don’t know. I was mildly hopeful.”
“Well, I’m not.” I propped myself on an elbow and stared down at him. It should be criminal to look that good first thing in the morning. Like … a felony or something. Even as I wanted to engage in lustful thoughts, the reality of the previous day came crashing back. “Do we have any news on Madame Selena yet?”
Galen shook his head, sobering. “Not so far. It’s barely light out. Trust me, finding that purple golf cart won’t be hard now that we have the sun to give us a hand.”
“Okay.” I chewed my bottom lip. “What are we going to do until then?”
Galen’s grin was wolfish. “Well, if you’re open to suggestions … .” His fingers danced over my midriff, causing me to slap his hand away.
“No way. You said you wanted time for that particular event and we both know we could be interrupted at any moment.” Plus, I rationalized, I had morning breath and bedhead. Neither were flattering when it came to looking back on a special memory.
“Fair enough.” Galen dropped his hand. “I guess we could start with breakfast.”
“That sounds like a fine idea.” I moved to climb out of bed, but Galen grabbed me and snuggled close before I could escape. “This does not look like breakfast preparations to me.”
He barked out a laugh. “You’re cute.”
I didn’t feel cute. I was really starting to regret not brushing my teeth before passing out. “I’m also hungry … and have to go to the bathroom.”
“Just one minute.” Galen stared hard into my eyes. That let me know the conversation was about to turn serious. “I know you’re trying to figure out this witch thing – you think it has to change you when it really doesn’t – but I want to remind you that you took care of yourself yesterday. That’s the second time you saved yourself, and you did it on instinct.
“I would like to be the hero in this story and say I was the one who raced in at the last second and saved the day, but I can’t lay claim to that title,” he continued. “You’re the hero. You did it … and you didn’t need Madame Selena to figure it out.”
“I don’t think I’m going to need Madame Selena to figure anything out,” I clarified. “She’s very clearly evil and I don’t want her around. I’m allergic to evil.”
“Definitely cute.” Galen briefly rubbed his nose against mine, refusing to let me squirm free. My bladder situation was becoming dire. “Just think about what I said.” He was earnest. “You did it all on your own. You’re strong … and capable … and you don’t need a mentor. You don’t need to be afraid of being who you are because you’ve always been this person.”
His words bolstered me. “That’s nice.”
“Good.”
“I really have to go to the bathroom, though.”
Galen gave me a quick kiss before releasing me. “Go. I’ll head down to the kitchen and start breakfast. If we’re lucky, we should have news relatively quickly.”
“I don’t generally believe in luck, but I’m crossing my fingers today.”
“That makes two of us.”
“IS THIS HER CART?”
We’d barely finished breakfast when news came in from one of Galen’s deputies that something that looked suspiciously like Madame Selena’s golf cart was tipped on its side and partially obscured in the underbrush on the highway that led out of town.
We loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and then immediately hopped into Galen’s truck so we could look ourselves. By the time we arrived, Booker was on scene and waiting. Instead of reacting with anger at his appearance, Galen was all business.
“What do we know?”
“We know that this cart was not here as of midnight,” Deputy Richard Lynn replied, his uniform pressed and starched. “We were up and down this highway three times after your call. We would’ve seen it.”
“Can you be sure?” Booker asked, crouching near the front wheel of the garish purple cart. “Unless you were looking directly at this spot, you might not have seen it.”
“I don’t believe that’s true, sir,” Lynn replied, his shoulders squared as if he were about ready to begin a report. “The reason it was so easy to find this morning is because some of the contents of the jars on the back of the cart were glowing.”
I cocked an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “Glowing?”
Lynn nodded. “It’s since dissipated – mostly – but we believe the crash happened around 3 a.m. or so because the glowing contents would’ve ignited around the time of impact. It’s fairy dust – the laughing kind – and it’s only good for a few hours.”
Galen nodded as if what his deputy had just related to him wasn’t utter nonsense. “I guess that makes sense. Except … what was Madame Selena doin
g on the road at that hour?”
“And where did she think she was going?” Booker added, making a face as he leaned closer to stare at the vinyl seat. “Hey, Galen, can you come over here a minute?”
I expected Galen to ignore the request, but he readily acquiesced. Their relationship was something I probably would never be able to wrap my head around. One minute they were growling and posturing like total macho jerkwads and the next they were working together for a common goal. It made absolutely no sense.
“What do you have?” Galen asked, crouching next to Booker. His nostrils flared before the other man could answer. “That’s blood.”
“I figured as much.” Booker flicked me a glance. “There’s a decent amount on the steering wheel and pooling on the ground here. It’s not enough to suggest a death, but it is enough to make me wonder if someone was seriously hurt in this little mishap.”
Curious, I scurried to the other side of the cart. I saw the blood smeared on the steering wheel, but it was less apparent in the green grass close to where the two men crouched. “Do you think she hurt herself in the crash or was injured before that?”
Galen shrugged. “I don’t know that we have evidence either way. Just out of curiosity, why would you think that she was hurt before the crash?”
“I don’t necessarily believe that,” I hedged. “It’s just … look around.” I gestured toward the trees, which were unnaturally tight at this particular point. “There’s no curve and lots of cover. I can’t help wondering why Madame Selena would wreck here. The road is a lot curvier back toward town.”
“I hear you, but I’m not sure I understand,” Galen prodded. “How does that equate with her already being hurt?”
“I don’t know.” I held my hands up and shrugged. “These trees provide natural cover. What if someone was in them and knew when Madame Selena would pass by? What if someone hid in there to shoot at her as she passed?”
Galen glanced to Booker. “Do you get what she’s suggesting?”
Booker nodded. “I think I do. She’s basically saying Madame Selena wasn’t working alone. That perhaps she had a partner and now that we’re on to her the partner realized Madame Selena was dead weight.”
Galen thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “Like maybe Madame Selena might have a tendency to talk to clear herself and throw someone else to the wolves, so to speak, in an effort to get away with whatever she’s been plotting. I guess that makes sense. Hadley brought it up last night, but I’ve been struggling to find a motive for Madame Selena to kill Trish.”
Booker widened his eyes. “You think this has something to do with Trish’s murder? But … how?”
“How could it not?” Galen challenged. “It’s not as if the crime rate on this island is sky high. We’ve had two murders within a week here – a father and daughter. They have to be related.”
“I thought we agreed last night that framing Hadley was the intent,” Booker argued. “Someone wanted to take her out of the equation.”
“But why? I doubt it’s because she’s dating me or hanging with you. I doubt it’s because she frequents Lilac’s bar. She doesn’t have a job, but she has been asking questions about Trish’s murder … and she’s been with me a few times when it happened.”
Things clicked into place. “You think someone wanted to frame me for Gus’s murder because whoever it is thinks I might help you get close to uncovering the truth.”
“It’s just a hypothesis right now,” Galen stressed. “But if you were a murder suspect I sure as heck wouldn’t be spending all my time trying to clear Ashley. Whoever did this wants us to believe Ashley is guilty and let it go. When Hadley and I started asking questions not long after news went public that Ashley was being charged, it became obvious quickly that we weren’t going to let it go.”
“Then how does Madame Selena play into this?” Booker queried. “She had no motive to kill Trish.”
“I agree,” Galen said. “That’s what was stymieing me. Motive is a problem. Then I remembered Madame Selena will do practically anything for money. What if someone hired her to help frame Hadley, and when it backfired that person realized Madame Selena could tear down everything our suspect worked so hard to build?”
“That kind of makes sense,” Booker admitted. “But if you look at the victims, that doesn’t give us many options for a suspect.”
“Basically Henry and Barbie,” I suggested.
“And Maureen,” Galen added. “We can’t forget Maureen. She didn’t get much from her divorce because of the affair. All those documents were sealed, but I opened them after I saw Maureen at the funeral home the other day. She barely got anything in that divorce.”
What Galen was suggesting made me uncomfortable. “But … she said she regretted the affair because Trish wouldn’t talk to her. Why would she kill her own daughter if she was upset about the girl not paying attention to her?”
“Maybe Maureen realized Trish was never going to let her back in,” Galen suggested. “Maybe she decided she was upset about her divorce settlement and wanted more. If she killed Gus, then Trish would inherit and she’d get nothing. If she killed them both …how much do you want to bet Maureen is now the sole beneficiary of Gus’s will because Trish is dead?”
I rubbed the back of my neck as my stomach flipped. “That’s really cold-hearted. I’m not sure I buy that from Maureen. She was one of the only people in that group I even liked.”
“Yeah, well, we need to look at all of them.” Galen was firm. “One of them did this. We need to figure out which one.”
He was forgetting one thing. “What about Madame Selena?” I asked. “Do you think she’s dead?”
Galen turned his eyes back to the drying blood. “I don’t know. If she’s not, I’m going to guess she wishes she was right about now. I don’t know where to look for her. We need to focus on what we have and go from there. If we’re lucky, we’ll find Madame Selena. If we’re not, well, she was involved in this. We’re simply not sure how deeply she was mired in the muck.”
“I guess.”
“Come on.” Galen extended his hand as he stood. “You can be my sidekick again and we’ll figure this out. We’re finally getting close. I feel it.”
24
Twenty-Four
We went to the funeral home to talk to Maureen. Visitation was scheduled to start at noon, everything was set up … including an open casket (the cremation was scheduled for later, according to Jareth). Maureen was surprised to find us in the parlor waiting for her when she arrived.
“What’s going on?”
Galen was in no mood to take things slow. “I’m sure you heard about Gus. We need to talk about a few things.”
“I haven’t heard a word from Gus.” Maureen made a face. “He hasn’t returned any of my calls. He’s not even helping plan the services. If he called and complained that I’m cutting him out … well … he should try returning a phone call.”
I was baffled. “He can’t return your calls. He’s dead.”
Galen slid me a sidelong look that was full of warning. The damage was already done, and I couldn’t take the statement back.
“What?” Maureen was horrified, her hand flying to her mouth. “What do you mean that Gus is dead?”
“There was an incident yesterday,” Galen replied, calmly grabbing Maureen’s arm and directing her toward the parlor sofa. “I would’ve thought someone had told you.”
“I spent the night in my hotel room.” Maureen’s eyes brimmed with tears. She was either a really good actress or telling the truth. I couldn’t decide which. “I put out the ‘do not disturb’ sign. I don’t understand. What happened to Gus?”
Galen kept his gaze on Maureen and sucked in a breath. There was no easy way to deliver the news. “Gus was on the beach by the lighthouse yesterday. He was despondent and talking about Trish.”
“She was his daughter. Of course he’s despondent.”
“He had a gun in his pocket.”
“
But … are you saying Gus killed himself?” Maureen immediately started shaking her head. “He wouldn’t do that. He’s not wired that way.”
“Whether he really would’ve gone through with it is up for debate. It ultimately doesn’t matter, though, because someone else did the deed for him.”
“But … who?”
“We don’t know.” Galen projected a cool confidence as he eased Maureen into reality. “Someone – and we have no idea who at this point – but someone fired a gun from a stand of trees near the lighthouse.
“Hadley happened to be with Gus on the beach when it happened,” he continued. “There was some sort of spell that we believe was meant to confuse her. She recognized what was happening and tried to get Gus to run, but it was too late. He died on the beach.”
Maureen pressed her lips together as she worried her hands in her lap. She didn’t immediately speak.
“He died quickly,” Galen offered. “He didn’t suffer.”
“Oh, he suffered.” Maureen found her voice, but it was weak. “He suffered a lot throughout the years, and I caused part of it. Trish’s death must have wrecked him. He would never consider doing … what you’re suggesting … otherwise.” She turned her gaze to me and there was something accusatory about the shine of her eyes. “What did he say to you?”
I shrugged, uncertain if I should answer. I risked a glance at Galen and he simply nodded. “He was mostly babbling about how upset he was about Trish’s death. He didn’t make a lot of sense sometimes. He was fighting off tears.
“His face was red, like from too much sun,” I continued. “That’s how I knew he’d been out there for a long time. I think he was just wandering, trying to fill the void he was feeling with … something. It wasn’t working.”
“And he was on your property?”
“Well, it wasn’t technically my property,” I hedged. “The beach belongs to the city, right?” I looked to Galen for confirmation. “It was close to the lighthouse. I could easily make out who he was from my patio.”
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