1 Lowcountry Boil (18 page)

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Authors: Susan M. Boyer

BOOK: 1 Lowcountry Boil
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“Be. Careful.” I gestured with both hands for emphasis. “He has a gun.”

“What? How do you—?”

I shook my head. “Later. Just trust me. He has a gun. Troy’s the Exterminator.”

He swallowed a curse and  glared at me. “Later, you’ll tell me how you know that.”

TWENTY-FOUR

The morning after Merry’s close encounter with a nine-millimeter, I slipped out of Mamma and Daddy’s house just before five and drove home to check on Rhett. I couldn’t take him to Mamma and Daddy’s. Chumley did not play well with other dogs.

I unfastened Rhett’s electronic collar and took him with me on my run. Mamma’s voice in my head kept admonishing me about how reckless it was, running alone that particular morning. But I needed to run. It helped me think, and I had a lot to sort out. Besides, my instincts told me that Troy was holed up somewhere sleeping off a very bad night.

When Rhett and I ran past the marina, Rodney Murphy and Sam Manigault were waiting by Troy’s Expedition in the parking lot. No sign of Troy. I didn’t stop. There was nothing in that Ford I needed to see. I let Rhett romp in the surf while I swam, but no watching the sunrise for me. I hurried back to Mamma and Daddy’s, hoping to get there before I was missed.

At six fifteen, I got a text from Nate: Flight delayed. ETA 11:45. Sit rep?

My situation report would not fit in a text message. Besides, there was nothing he could do from Chicago. I replied: Complicated. Tell u when I c u. I’m fine.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and went outside to the screened porch. I settled into the swing and pondered what in the name of sweet reason I was going to tell Blake.

Before I could work that one out, Colleen dropped by.

“Would you like some coffee?” My words were coated in sarcasm with sprinkles.

“No thanks.” She leaned back into the cushions on the swing.

“I need some straight answers from you or I’ll be checking myself into the nervous hospital before noon.”

“What?” She looked all innocent.

“First of all, why are you back here, on earth, on the island? After all these years?”

“Colleen Stevens, guardian spirit.” She held out her hand for a shake.


You…
are my guardian angel?”

“No. Angels are unique creatures. Dead people don’t turn into angels any more than they turn into zebras.”

“So what exactly is a guardian spirit?”

“Anyone who has passed from the mortal world to the immortal world and has been sent back on assignment to help or protect someone. Or someplace.”

I considered getting a swig of something out of Daddy’s well-stocked cabinet for my coffee. “On the outside chance I am
not
stark-raving mad, and you
are
actually sitting there,
what
you are is my guardian spirit?”

“No. I guard Stella Maris. If you were my assignment, you would never have gone out with Scott—much less married him.”

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. What if she disappeared again? My eyes flew open. “Why are you popping up in my dreams?”

“Your dreams are your own. That’s between you and your subconscious.”

“So what was all that about last night?”

Colleen sighed. “Like I said, I protect the island. Sometimes, I protect people who live here as a part of that overall assignment.”

“Sometimes?”

“Sometimes.”

“Where were you when Gram was murdered?”

Colleen’s eyes misted. “Look, I just do what I’m told. I go where I’m told, when I’m told. I’m not privy to the big picture.”

“Why wouldn’t you let me shoot Troy? I could have taken him out and Kristen would be alive, and this would be over.”

“That’s what you
think
would have happened. See, you weren’t supposed to be there. Every time one thing gets changed, something else doesn’t unfold the way it’s supposed to.”

“Why was I there if I wasn’t supposed to be?”

Colleen shrugged. “To quote the bard, ‘
There are more things in Heaven and Earth than dreamt of in your philosophy.’”

“I’m pretty open-minded.”

“This gets into the whole good versus evil thing. We’d best leave that for another day.”

“Are you saying evil forces switched my phone with Merry’s so I’d come to her house and get involved in a shoot-out with an ex-shrimper?”

“I didn’t say that. But it’s one explanation.”

I was feeling a little light-headed. “Okay then.”

“Most people—even those who believe in ghosts—have never had a conversation with one,” she said. “Just imagine the possibilities of all that could exist that you don’t know about.”

I had no answer to that. “Did Adam, Scott, or Troy kill Gram?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You’re not here to help me find who killed Gram, are you?”

“That’s not part of my assignment, but I’ll help if I can. You know I will.”

“But your agenda is preventing Adam and Scott from building a resort.”

“Yes.”

“And protecting Deanna.”

“That’s not really part of my assignment, either. But there’s some crossover here. Deanna’s involved. Normally, I’m not allowed to intercede on behalf of family. Or anyone, really, unless it’s specifically part of my assignment. I’m new at this.” She shrugged and looked apologetic.

“So tell me everything you know about what Adam and Scott are up to. I get that Kristen and Troy go way back. She must’ve told him Merry wanted to open a youth camp, and he told Adam.” The dream popped into my head, the one where Michael had his arms wrapped around Merry. She’d been enjoying it—then she started struggling. It was Adam she’d gotten in bed with—metaphorically speaking—not Michael. The dream had been a foreshadowing of Merry’s unwitting involvement with Adam’s evil plans.

I pulled myself back to the present. “Sometime after that, Troy started dating Merry, and the Devlins agreed to donate land for this camp. But what’s in it for the Devlins?”

“That’s what we have to find out. You’re the detective. Right now I don’t know any more than you do. I’m not omniscient. I’m a guardian spirit, not God.”

I stared at her for a long moment. “Have you seen Him?”

Colleen glowed. “Of course.”

“What does He look like?”

“I can’t tell you anything about Eternity. That’s one of the rules.”

“Oh.”

“No time for pouting.”

I pushed the floor with my feet to rock the swing. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘You’re the detective?’ Are you here to help me, or do
you
need
my
help. In a professional capacity?”

“A little of both, I guess. We each have our role.”

I pondered that. “Last night, you knew things. Like Merry had left my phone on the porch. Are you clairvoyant?”

“Not exactly. I’m given tasks that are limited in scope, like last night to help Merry. I’m given information relevant as I need it. I needed to know about the phone, so it popped into my head. Sometimes I pick up on things not directly related to a task—like a radio channel I accidently tune in to or something. Sometimes I can read minds. But my most reliable skill is snooping without getting caught.” She grinned. “Kinda like you do, only it’s easier for me.”

“Can you read my mind? Right now?”

“Yeah. You’re thinking you’re still asleep and this is a dream.”

“Wow.”

We swung for a minute in silence.

“That thing you did,” I said, “where you put an idea in Merry’s head…”

“Throwing thoughts. That doesn’t always work either. I’m still learning how to use my tools.”

“What have you been doing for fourteen years?”

“That’s not nearly as long as you think it is. I’ve been in training. This is my debut assignment.”

“Why can’t you just read everyone’s mind and figure out what’s going on?” It seemed pretty simple to me.

“I told you. I can’t always read minds. And, I have to know whose mind to read.”

“We have some candidates.”

“And they have to be thinking about what I want to know.”

“I see your point.”

“And I have to be with them. I can’t do it remotely.”

“And you don’t know where Troy and Kristen are.” I was getting it.

Colleen looked grim. “I know where Kristen is.”

My stomach clenched remembering the pfft-pfft of the silenced pistol. The chains creaked as the swing moved back and forth.

“Wasn’t there anything you could do for her?”

“I don’t have the kind of powers that angels do. All I can do is try to point you people in the right direction and pray.”

“How do you know what the right direction is?”

Colleen gave me this Mona Lisa smile. “Let’s just say I get stronger hints.”

“What was that wall thing you did, where you wouldn’t let me go inside Merry’s?”

“A force field. That’s the first time I’ve ever done one, and I can’t keep it up long—it takes practice to build endurance.”

“Has anyone else ever seen you?”

“No. I only get one POC.”

“One what?”

“Point of Contact.”

I stared for a minute at the line of crepe myrtles in the backyard. “Colleen?”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you swimming in Breach Inlet?” This question had been bothering me for fourteen years.

“All the tequila in my system didn’t tip you off?”

“You drank tequila?” At seventeen, Colleen was a teetotaler.

She met my gaze, and then dropped her eyes to her lap, where she became interested in her fingers. “I shoulda figured they’d keep that quiet.”

“Are you telling me you killed yourself? On purpose?”

“Not one of my finer moments.”

“Why?”

“I guess I lost sight of the big picture just long enough to get it done. I didn’t grow out of the awkward stage as fast as you did. I was weary of trying to morph into something my parents could be content with. I was lonely, miserable. Seventeen. After Deanna got married, Mom and Dad focused on me full time, trying to fix me. Dermatologists, diet consultants, a personal trainer. The psychologist was the last straw.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks. “How could I not have known you were that desperate? I’ve always agonized about not going to the movies with you that night instead of going out on a date. I thought, if only you’d been with me it never would have happened. I used to think you’d been murdered by some serial killer.”

Colleen shook her head sadly.

“Once or twice it occurred to me you might have done it on purpose, but I just wouldn’t let myself think that. Now I know it was my fault.”

“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “It was my fault. No one else’s.”

The back door opened and Mamma stepped onto the porch.

Colleen faded away.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I thought I heard you talking to somebody out here.” Mamma took in my tear-streaked face and frowned in concern. “Liz, honey, everything’s going to be all right.”

She sat down beside me in the spot Colleen just vacated and wrapped her arms around me.

I rested my head on Mamma’s shoulder while she stroked my hair and made soothing noises just like she’d done every time I was hurt my whole life—provided I was in petting range.

“Come on inside, honey,” she said. “Let’s get you some breakfast. I’ve got grits and eggs and bacon and biscuits and gravy and baked apples.”

That’s my mamma—no problem is so bad a little gravy won’t cure it.

She led me into the kitchen. “After a good hot breakfast, and a little lipstick, you’ll feel much better.”

Gravy and lipstick. All a girl needs to make it through.

Blake was already at the table. His lined face and red eyes betrayed his lack of sleep. His hair was slightly damp from the shower, and the change of clothes Mamma still kept in his old room were neatly pressed. He looked up from the platter of breakfast in front of him.

“Any sign of him?” I asked.

“We scoured this island most of the night. Found his Expedition parked at the marina. Forensics is processing it now. His golf clubs, laundry, and a load of trash were piled up on Merry’s deck. Seems pretty clear he made room in the Ford for something large.”

“He must have left by boat.”

“John’s Chris-Craft is missing.” 

I sat down across the table from him. “He’ll turn up. I bet they find that boat at Shem Creek.”

“Nah, Mount Pleasant Police already checked. Charleston PD checked the City Marina. The sheriff’s department is searching docks and marinas along every inlet, river, and creek within range, but that’s a lot of waterfront to cover.”

Mamma set a plate piled high in front of me. “You children eat your breakfast.”

Blake eyed me over his coffee cup and then set it down. “We need to talk.”

“I know.”

“I’ve got a briefing with the patrol team at seven-thirty. I’ll be gone about an hour. You’ll be here when I get back?” The look in his eyes said
you’d better be here
.

Colleen joined us at the breakfast table.

I looked away from Blake, to what he no doubt believed an empty chair. “Sure.”

He stood and carried his plate to the sink. “Liz…” his voice held a warning.

“What?”

Colleen said, “Hurry up and eat, would you? We’ve got places to be.”

Blake drained his coffee cup and put his dishes in the dishwasher. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He was out the back door before I could think of anything to say that wouldn’t get me committed.

I didn’t intend to lie to him. It just worked out that way.

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