A Hint of Murder

by Mary Maxwell

  “Good job, boss!” Theo held up his hand for a high five from my aunt. “If you need a bodyguard to keep the paparazzi away, I know a couple meatheads from the gym who can do the job.”

  Dot pinched his cheek. “Aren’t you a peach, Theo? I appreciate that offer, but I’ve already sourced a couple of MMA fighters from Bonita Springs that do security on the side.”

  “So?” I said, kissing my aunt’s cheek. “What’s the scoop? When do you start filming the show?”

  “They’re sending another crew down here in two weeks,” she answered. “They’ll shoot more video of me making ice cream, serving customers and interacting with all of you. Then I’ll fly up to New York in a month or so to meet with the producers and network executives. I think the actual taping begins about a month after that.”

  My mother frowned. “Why the delay? You’re not getting any younger.”

  Aunt Dot sneered at her. “Thanks for the reminder, sis. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  My mother lifted her chin. “Every day,” she said. “And I love what I see.”

  Dot giggled. “So do I!” she said brightly. “And we both look absolutely fantastic for broads who’ve been around this many years.”

  “Totally true,” Theo said. “But how old are you guys?”

  My mother and Dot shared a quick smile. Then they both started laughing and slapping one another on the back.

  “Do you want to tell him,” my mother asked Dot, “or should I?”

  “I’ve got this,” my aunt said, turning to Theo. “Do you really want to know our ages?”

  The fresh-faced high school student nodded. “Yeah, for sure,” he said. “Especially since you’re gonna be on TV and everything.”

  “Well, young man,” Dot said. “The answer to that question is simple. A lady never reveals her age or her weight.”

  Theo snickered. “Really? Because my mother does both. She’s forty-one and she weighs—”

  “Whoa, there,” Aunt Dot said. “I don’t think any of us need to know her personal details.”

  My mother nudged Dot with one elbow. “Especially when Theo’s mother is a yoga teacher who eats twigs and nuts for every meal.”

  CHAPTER 42

  Jason and I were midway through dinner at Crystal Bay Café when my phone rang. It was in the pocket of my jacket, draped over the back of my chair, and I had no intention of interrupting such a relaxing evening. But when it rang twice more, Jason suggested that I answer if it rang again.

  “There you go,” he said a few minutes later. “Fourth time’s a charm.”

  I smiled. “I don’t think that’s how that saying goes,” I replied. “But if you don’t mind…”

  “By all means,” he said. “It could be a family emergency.”

  When I retrieved the phone, I felt a twinge of anxious fear when I read the name on the screen.

  “It must be important,” I told Jason. “It’s Detective Shaw with the Crystal Bay PD.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I need to see a dog about a man.”

  I laughed at the mangled adage and then tapped the screen to take the call.

  “Hi, Liz,” Ethan said. “Sorry to interrupt your evening.”

  “It’s fine,” I replied. “I can talk for a minute or two.”

  “I’ll keep it short,” he said. “I wanted to discuss an opportunity with you, so this call might be over before it starts if you’re not interested.”

  “Okay, that’s fairly vague,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  “When I told Chief Winslow about how helpful you were with the Simon Wargrave case,” Ethan began, “he was really impressed by your ambition and determination. He’s been thinking about adding a new role with the CBPD, and asked me to call you with a proposal.”

  “But he’s already married,” I teased, instantly regretting the bad joke.

  “Uh, well…” Ethan sounded flummoxed. “That’s true, but I don’t think—”

  “Sorry about that,” I said quickly. “I make really bad jokes when I’m nervous.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “I can see that.”

  “I’ll try not to do it again,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he told me. “Everyone has nervous tics.”

  “Yeah? What’s yours?”

  “I brush my right index finger along my upper lip,” he said. “It’s not that strange, but it’s sure cost me plenty of money over the years when I’m playing cards.”

  I laughed at the quip. It was refreshing to meet someone in law enforcement who was good at police work as well as personable and charming.

  “Anyway,” I said, “you were calling on behalf of Chief Winslow?”

  “Yes, right,” Ethan said. “After I told him how helpful you were to the investigation, the Chief wanted to know if you’d consider lending a hand with similar incidents in the future.”

  “Do you mean the next time someone is murdered in town?”

  “Oh, gosh,” Ethan stammered. “I certainly hope that won’t happen again. I think what Chief Winslow had in mind is someone who can do community outreach and serve as a liaison during high-profile cases or particularly sensitive situations. With the right person, I envision the role as something like the Baker Street Irregulars that helped Sherlock Holmes solve cases. With your expertise managing 911 calls for the Atlanta PD, you’d be familiar with what it takes to handle sensitive information and interact with the various stakeholders involved in our cases.”

  “I’m familiar with the Irregulars,” I said. “But they were all young boys, right?”

  “True,” he agreed with a light chuckle. “That’s why I said ‘something like.’”

  “I’m just giving you grief,” I replied. “The idea actually sounds terrific. Do you want me to serve on the selection committee to identify candidates for the position?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “The Chief was actually hoping that you might consider serving as our inaugural community advocate, Liz. He wanted to try it as a pilot program. Maybe see how it goes for a few months before we enlist one or two others from town to take the same type of role with the CBPD.”

  The offer was so unexpected that I was left momentarily speechless. I saw Jason walking across the dining room as I tried to think of something to say in response to the proposal.

  “You okay, Lizzie?” he said quietly. “Your face is a little flushed.”

  I smiled. “I’m fine,” I whispered. “I’ll tell you everything in a second.”

  He nodded and sat down across from me. Between having dinner with my high school boyfriend and receiving an astonishing offer from the Chief of Police, I wasn’t surprised that my cheeks were rosy.

  “So here’s what I was wondering,” Ethan said when I got back on the line. “Could you come by the station one afternoon this week to talk about the position?”

  “Definitely!” I felt the excitement building as I contemplated the proposal. “Which day?”

  “I’m flexible,” he said. “Why don’t you shoot me a text tomorrow with a couple of options. Then we can figure out what works best for both of us.”

  “Will do,” I said. “I’m really honored by the offer, Detective Shaw.”

  He laughed. “Ethan’s good,” he said. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not much for formality.”

  “That works for me, too,” I replied. “I’ll look forward to getting together to learn more about what you and the Chief have in mind.”

  “Alright, sounds good,” Ethan said. “Thanks for the time and have yourself a great night.”

  “I will,” I said right before the call dropped.

  I glanced at the screen to make sure he’d hung up before slipping the phone back into my jacket.

  “Okay, that was obviously a good call,” Jason said.

  I nodded. “Good and unexpected; Ethan Shaw just offered me a role with the CBPD.”

  Jason’s eyebrows arched. “You’re going to be a cop?”

&nb
sp; “Not that kind of role,” I said, laughing. “It’s more like an unofficial spot, like a cross between ombudsman and consulting detective.”

  “Wow!” He raised his wine glass. “That calls for a toast!”

  I lifted my merlot and took a sip. Then I put down the glass and leaned back in my chair.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m better than okay,” I said. “This is turning out to be an incredible night. I’m having dinner with a handsome, sweet, charming…” I paused, suddenly feeling like I’d said too much. “…old friend,” I continued, feeling my face get warm again. “And it sounds like I might be working with the local police to do community outreach and backup their team when they need an extra pair of eyes.”

  “What about your aunt’s place?” he asked.

  “Nothing will change there,” I said. “I don’t have the details yet, but I doubt if the liaison role will take too much time.”

  “You should be proud, Lizzie!” Jason said. “You obviously impressed Chief Winslow with your detective skills. I mean, even if you were sleuthing on your own, your work was essential to solving the Wargrave murder case.” He was beaming at me and raising his glass again. “At this rate, I think we may need more wine!”

  I touched my glass to his and drank some of my merlot.

  “Maybe we should finish these,” I suggested, “and then walk down the beach to Sugar Mama’s for Carmen’s delicious crème brûlée. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect,” Jason said after finishing the last of his shiraz. “Actually, it sounds more than perfect. This is turning out to be one of the best nights in a very long time, Lizzie.”

  He was right. After years apart, seeing him again had rekindled the sense of excitement and anticipation that swept through me the very first time we met so long ago.

  I smiled at Jason.

  “You look really happy right now,” he said.

  “Probably because I am.”

  He smiled back.

  “Feels good,” he said. “Doesn’t it?”

  I nodded, but didn’t say anything. As I gazed at him across the table, my mind filled with gratitude and a quiet calm. It was nice to be back in Crystal Bay. I enjoyed working with Aunt Dot and my mother at the Big Dipper. I was thrilled to reconnect with old friends and make a few new ones. And I relished every moment that I could spend at the beach, swimming in the sparkling waters and savoring the magnificent sunsets.

  “Should we get out of here?” Jason asked, scattering my thoughts. “I’ve heard the crème brûlée sells out some nights.”

  “I’m ready,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about it since we made plans for dinner.”

  He laughed. “Same here! My sweet tooth is just as eager as it was when we shared those incredible chocolate marshmallow malts at your aunt’s place back in the day.”

  After we paid the check together, we went outside, crossed the boardwalk and then went down the steps to the beach. It was a beautiful night; countless couples and small groups strolled along the sand or sat in clusters on blankets. Someone was playing a saxophone in the distance, and the music added a warm, celebratory flavor to the air.

  “Welcome to paradise!” Jason said.

  “It’s nice to be back,” I said. “I think maybe I’ll stick around for a while.”