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Beach Blanket Homicide

Page 7

by Maria Geraci


  “Nah. I’m just going to have her cremated. Cheapest way to go and she won’t care anyway. But I can’t do that till they finish the autopsy. At least, that’s what the cops told me.”

  “The police were here?” I ask, knowing full well that Travis has already spoken to him. But now I have to wonder if Travis asked Derrick where he was at the time of Abby’s death, because I for one, would sure like to know.

  “They were the ones who told me about Abby slipping and hitting her head. Asked me about a dog, too, but I don’t nothing about no dog.”

  My neck feels like it’s been plugged into an electric socket.

  I’ve just caught Derrick Delgado in a whopper.

  “Why did they want to know about a dog?” I ask trying to sound innocent.

  He scowls. “What do you care? Where are those papers you brought me?”

  I rifle through my bag, pretending to look for them. “You’re not going to believe this, but, um, I forgot the papers.”

  He rolls his eyes in disgust. “What’s wrong with you people? First, you never return my calls. Now you show up here with no papers? Wouldn’t have happened if they’d sent a man.”

  “I’ll see if I can rustle you up one of those,” I mutter.

  He raises a bushy brow at me.

  I clear my throat. “No worries. We’ll get those papers back out here pronto.”

  “You better. Or I’ll sue your firm for being a bunch of idiots.”

  Chapter Ten

  After my visit to Derrick Delgado, I need to blow off some adrenaline, so I go to Will’s house. He owns his own home, a cute little one-story bungalow a few blocks from the beach. The living room is minimalistic—just a couple of dark leather couches, a coffee table, a desk, and two big bookshelves overflowing with classic literature.

  Will is a reading snob, preferring the classics to popular fiction. He’s the only person I know who doesn’t own a T.V. That’s why we have to watch America’s Most Vicious Criminals at my place.

  I pace around the room and tell him everything I know so far about Abby’s death, including the stuff about the video of Sebastian and Abby going into the rec center and my futile attempt to knock some sense into my brother.

  “Sebastian refuses to tell me who Abby wanted the exorcism performed on. Only my money lands on Phoebe Van Cleave.”

  Will ponders this over. “Go on.”

  “According to Officer Fontaine, Paco doesn’t belong to Derrick Delgado. So I went out to see him. He didn’t know anything about a dog, but it was a big fat lie. You should meet this guy. He’s like a character right out of Deliverance. Oh, and the worst part? The guy has a trained squirrel.”

  The corner of Will’s mouth twitches up like he’s going to laugh. Only he knows better.

  When I turned seven, my parents threw me a pool party. My entire class was there (Mom’s rules: everyone in the class is invited, or no one is). To keep him from being bored, Sebastian, who is five years older than me, was allowed to invite a friend, so he asked Will. And thank God for that because who knows what would have happened to me if Will hadn’t been there to save me.

  We’d just gotten out of the swimming pool. Mom had placed my ballerina cake with the seven pink candles on top of the picnic table, when out of nowhere, a pack of feral squirrels came flying out of the trees (Will and Sebastian like to say that it was only three, but honestly, when your life is flashing before your eyes, who takes the time to count?).

  Those squirrels scurried toward my cake with every intention of stealing it.

  No way was I going to let that happen, so I grabbed the cake and took off running. I could hear everyone shouting behind me, but all I could think about was those squirrels making off with my beautiful pink ballerina cake that Mom had baked from scratch.

  I turned to see if the squirrels were following me (which they were!) when I tripped and began to fall. In one of those slow-motion clips of your life, I could see what would happen next. I was going to land face down on the patio tile, and worse, my cake would be ruined.

  But then out of nowhere, a pair of arms grabbed me, holding me (and the cake) steady. “Get out of here, you grubby squirrels!” Will screamed.

  Miraculously, they obeyed him.

  By that time, Mom and Dad were also there to help. I didn’t land on my face and break my nose. My cake was all in one piece. And the squirrels were vanquished back to their evil hiding nests.

  If that wasn’t a reason to fall in love with Will, (and hate squirrels forever), then I don’t know what is.

  I proceed to fill Will in about the rest of my visit to Derrick, omitting the part where he held a gun to my head, because if I tell him that he’ll tell Sebastian and I don’t want my brother to flip out. Plus, Sebastian would tell our parents, and then everyone would make a federal case about nothing.

  Will crosses his arms over his chest. “The brother sounds like a nut job. I don’t like it that you went out there to see this guy alone.” See what I mean? Good thing I left out the part about the shotgun. “What’s going to happen when he calls this law office and they deny knowing anything about you?”

  “I never gave him my name, and I live an hour away. How’s he going to find me?” Before Will can answer, I say, “Don’t worry about Derrick Delgado. We have more important fish to fry, like figuring out the cause of death. We won’t know anything more until the autopsy results come back, but—”

  “Wait.” He sits up. “Are you saying that maybe Abby was murdered?”

  “Pay attention, Will! Why do you think the cops questioned Sebastian about what he and Abby were doing in the rec center? They didn’t come right out and say the M word, but you should see the way this Officer Fontaine character is acting. Someone needs to remind him he’s not in Dallas anymore.”

  “Sounds like you don’t like Travis.”

  “He’s a donut man.”

  Will chuckles. “He joined my basketball league last night. He’s got an awesome three-point shot.”

  All of which means that Travis has completely won Will over because Will goes nutso over basketball. Personally, I’ve never gotten into the game. It’s run down and make a basket, then, run down and make another basket. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Yawn.

  I stop pacing and glance around the room. It’s suddenly occurred to me that something isn’t right. Will’s usually neat desk is cluttered with papers, and there’s an empty carton of Chinese on the floor next to his trash can like he went to toss it in and missed. Will is obsessively neat. It’s his only fault.

  “Work been busy?”

  “I’ve been off for a few days. Mini vacation.”

  On his days off Will goes entirely off grid. No Internet, no newspapers, minimal cell phone contact. He says it helps keep him sane, but it would drive me bananas because I happen to like being around people. I wonder how Brittany would handle that if she and Will ever got together.

  Before I can inquire why his desk is so messy, he asks, “Are you sure you can’t get Sebastian to tell you anything more about that night?”

  “He’s stubborn as a goat. He refuses to help himself in anyway. But that’s okay because I plan to solve this thing on my own.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  I smile, which makes Will frown uneasily. “Lucy, what are you up to?”

  “I haven’t told you the best part yet.”

  “There’s a best part here?”

  “Phoebe Van Cleave also lied to me about knowing that Abby had a dog. Add that to the fact that I’m pretty sure she’s who Abby wanted the exorcism performed on, it makes her look mighty suspicious. Right now, she and Derrick are my two prime suspects.”

  “Suspects? I think you’ve been inhaling too many muffin batter fumes.”

  I snort because that’s actually pretty funny.

  “Okay,” he concedes, “Let’s say Abby’s death wasn’t accidental. What motive did the brother have for killing her? Or Phoebe Van Cleave for that matter?”

&nb
sp; “Derrick has the oldest motive known to man. I think he must be Abby’s heir because he was worried about her will, so it’s money. As for Phoebe, there was a rumor going around that Abby was challenging her for her position as head of the Sunshine Ghost Society. I’m not sure what role Paco has in all this, but he’s involved too.”

  “The dog?”

  I nod. “I think Abby dognapped him and Phoebe definitely knows something about it, but like I said, she’s lying.”

  “And you’re sure about that?”

  Will knows about my gift, but like Sebastian, he doesn’t know the extent of my talent. “Positive.”

  Will is quiet for a few minutes while he’s trying to absorb everything I’ve just told him. Or maybe he’s already figuring out how we can solve this thing together. He’s so smart, and two heads are definitely—

  “Luce, have you thought that maybe finding Abby’s body has made you a little more sensitive to this whole situation?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it. You found her body, and she was a customer. Someone you saw probably two or three times a week. She might not have been a favorite of yours, but you liked her because you like everyone. Finding her dead like that must have been a huge shock. Maybe you have some form of PTSD here.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’m just saying that it’s perfectly normal for you to still be freaked out about everything. I think Sebastian is right. I think you ought to let the cops handle this.”

  “You think I’m freaked out? Sorry, but you must be confusing me with Brittany.” The minute I say it I wish I could take it back because it sounds mean and jealousy. “I’m sorry. That was petty.”

  He sighs. “I told you before, she’s not that person from high school.”

  Even though Sebastian has already told me all about their date, I still want to hear it from Will. “So, did you ask her out?”

  He looks at me warily. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

  “Oh, like you want my permission? I thought we already went through this.”

  “I know we talked about it some the other day, but if you really dislike her, I’ll break the date. You’re my best friend, but more than that, you’re the best judge of character I know. Be honest. What do you really think of her?”

  Oh boy. Will has no idea. He’s just handed me the perfect opportunity to shoot Brittany down forever.

  A part of me would love to tell him exactly what I think of her.

  But the way he’s looking at me right now like he trusts me explicitly makes me stop and reconsider.

  I have to look at this through someone else’s eyes. Besides my parents, Sebastian and Will are the two people I love and trust most in this world. If they both think Brittany is okay, then maybe I’m the one with the problem.

  The truth is, I can’t be objective here.

  It kills me to say this, but I have to. “You should definitely go out with Brittany. Who knows? She could be the one. Besides, you don’t want to be a schmuck, do you? What kind of guy asks a girl out and then cancels? Anyway, it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Only what you think.”

  “You’re right,” he says sheepishly.

  “That goes without saying.”

  Boy, Meryl Streep has nothing on me. I should probably go ahead and book my front row seat at the next Academy Awards presentation.

  “I hope you won’t mind if we skip our Friday night pizza and T.V. routine again,” he says. “It was the only night Brittany was free this week.”

  “No worries. I can experiment bake. I really need to get this mango coconut muffin recipe worked out. You know, in case they call from Muffin Wars.”

  “You mean when they call.”

  “Sure, right.”

  He walks me out to my car, but it feels awkward between us.

  “Wear a blue shirt on your date,” I say. “It makes your eyes look less shifty.”

  He laughs, but it’s strained. “So… Luce, can you tell when I’m lying?”

  “Every single time. So watch it, buddy,” I say, adding this to all the other lies I’ve told today because if Will knew that he was the only person I’ve never caught in a lie, it would sound strange and somehow, he’d figure out how I feel about him.

  He shakes his head as if he’s not quite sure he believes me and waves goodbye. I wave back and begin the short drive back to The Bistro.

  It’s dark, but I always leave the back light on. I put my key in the door and am about to unlock it when an all too familiar whimpering stops me cold.

  I whip around to find Paco staring back at me, his tail wagging furiously.

  Chapter Eleven

  I call Lanie and tell her about my surprise visitor.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so glad he’s with you! Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine. But how did he get here?” With my cell phone tucked under my chin, I bend down to give Paco a bowl of water. He eagerly laps it up.

  “One of my staff went to take the dogs out for the night, but when she put them back in their cages, she noticed Paco was missing, so she called me. We found a hole he must have dug under the fence. Nothing like this has ever happened before. It’s lucky that he found his way to you.” Lanie pauses. “Or maybe, luck has nothing to do with it. Maybe he was trying to get back to you specifically.”

  It’s almost two miles from The Bistro to the animal shelter with several residential neighborhoods in between. The thought that Paco walked all this way in the dark just to find me is pretty out there. But then, I’m basically a human lie detector, which most people would scoff at, so I suppose anything is possible.

  “You make him sound like he’s Lassie,” I joke.

  “Maybe he is. Or maybe he’s something even more. Remember when I told you that I thought I’d seen him before? It all came back to me tonight when we were out looking for him.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “It’s a long story. And kind of kooky.”

  “Try me.”

  “Not over the phone. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Lanie hands me her cell phone where she’s got her Facebook app opened to a picture of a dog that’s the spitting image of Paco. “I thought he looked familiar, but I didn’t make the connection until now. You remember I told you his owner’s name was Susan Van Dyke? Susan is, or rather was, this eccentric millionaire who lived in Destin. She claimed that Cornelius—”

  “Wait. Are you telling me that Paco’s real name is Cornelius?”

  Lanie grins. “Yep. Anyway, she claimed that Cornelius had special powers, so she used to hold séances in her house, that kind of stuff. She passed away last week.”

  Paco looks between Lanie and me like he’s following our conversation. Which, I must admit, is kind of adorable.

  “What kind of special powers?”

  “She claimed he could commune with the dead.”

  “As in—” I make air quotes— “I see dead people?”

  Lanie giggles. “Not sure if Paco, or rather, Cornelius, is familiar with the movie The Sixth Sense, but basically, yeah.”

  No wonder Phoebe was so interested in the dog. She thinks he can talk to the dead. It’s yet another motive for Phoebe to get rid of Abby. I mentally shake my head. Not gonna go there. I basically told Will that I’d leave Abby’s death to the police.

  “What happened to Susan Van Dyke?” I ask.

  “She had cancer. Do you think she left Cornelius to Abby?”

  “It makes sense since Abby was a member of the Sunshine Ghost Society, but why did Abby lie and tell me his name is Paco? And that he belonged to her brother?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. All I can tell you is that this is Cornelius. See?” She points to the top of the phone screen. “He has his own Facebook page and everything.” Cornelius Van Dyke, Canine Ghost Whisperer.

  “He’s got over a hundred thousand likes!”

  “Impressive, huh?”

  I bring the
phone screen down to Paco’s eye level. “Is this you, little guy? Are you Cornelius?”

  Paco barks and wags his tail.

  Lanie pulls a leash from her backpack. “The attorney handling Susan Van Dyke’s estate called me saying that they’d gotten my phone message. Apparently, Susan’s sister just came down from New York. I’ll call her tomorrow morning and tell her I have Cornelius. Now that Abby is gone maybe the family wants him back.”

  Paco looks at the leash in Lanie’s hand, and his tail stops wagging. He runs and hides beneath a table in the restaurant.

  “I’ve never had a dog run away from me before.” Lanie sounds hurt, but instinctively I know that Paco’s refusal to go with her isn’t because he doesn’t like her. It’s just that…he likes me more.

  “He can stay here tonight. I’ll be happy to take him back to Susan’s family tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure? What about your allergies?”

  “Another night of Benadryl isn’t going to kill me.”

  Lanie smiles. “Thanks, Lucy!”

  “No problem.” Lanie gives me the information on Susan Elliot and we say goodbye.

  I kick off my sneakers and head into the kitchen. Paco follows me. I’m too wired up to sleep, so late night baking it is. Even though I still haven’t heard back from Muffin Wars, I have to keep believing that they’ll call. The prize for winning is ten thousand dollars which would go a long way to paying off what I owe Will.

  Mango coconut muffin recipe: take four.

  I finish putting a batch into the oven when there’s a knock on the door to The Bistro. It’s almost midnight, so I can’t imagine who might be out there. Paco runs in a circle and barks happily like he’s expecting something good to happen.

  “Who is it, boy? Not a ghost, I hope.” I giggle at my own silliness, because really? A canine ghost whisperer?

  Still, I can tell that Paco (because I refuse to call him Cornelius) is an exceptional dog. He walked all the way from the animal shelter to The Bistro to find me. And he undoubtedly led me to Abby’s body. I hope that whichever one of Susan’s relatives ends up taking him appreciates just how awesome he is.

 

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