Murder by the Seaside (21 page)

They exchanged a look.

“What? I’m still a strong swimmer.”

“You should stay out of the sun for a few days.” Mom looked victoriously at Dad. Fishing, known to Mom as marine life capture-and-kill, was an in-the-sun activity.

“I’ll wait for evening.” Suddenly I was exhausted and wanted a nap.

“Is Sebastian coming back again tonight?” Dad looked worried.

“Yeah. Late.”

“You two want to meet us for mai tais on the deck?”

For some unknown reason, drinks on the deck with my parents and Sebastian sounded marvelous. “Is ten too late?”

“Ten’s great.” Dad beamed. “I’ll grill something.”

“Deal.” I texted Sebastian as I left The Pony, feeling infinitely happier than I had thirty minutes earlier. But a nap still sounded wonderful.

* * *

I woke to a gorgeous stream of pinks and golds coming through my window. Sunset. I was rested and still had enough time to go for a swim before Sebastian came back. I craved the sensation of ocean water on my skin, bobbing in the surf, free from captivity. The timing was perfect. A setting sun wouldn’t hurt my healing burns. Thanks to the love bus, I made it to the beach in time to see throngs of tourists head home for dinner. I had the whole place to myself. Life was giving me a break for a change. I climbed into the back of the bus like old times and stripped out of my shorts and Sebastian’s T-shirt. I adjusted the suit I’d slid on underneath and looked for a bottle of water. Staying hydrated proved to be more difficult than I expected.

I opened a red Igloo cooler and found a flattened, folded one-man inflatable boat. Fate and I didn’t get along, but omens I believed in. Sitting at the beach alone with a one-man boat seemed like the universe trying to tell me something. I hooked up the air pump before I could talk myself out of things. Maybe swimming alone wasn’t the best idea. Maybe a boat ride would help me get my head together.

The phone startled me. For whatever reason, the ringer was stuck in ear-bleed mode since I turned it off silence, and the mega-loud
ding-ding
announced a text. Sebastian would be late. He’d meet me at eleven. I texted him back to let him know I was at the beach. Before the boat was fully inflated, he’d already changed his story. He’d be on the island in two hours, but he’d have to finish some reports at my place. I shrugged and shoved the phone in my shorts then slid them back on.

By the time I’d maneuvered the boat into the surf and paddled out beyond the waves, all I could think about was whether or not the Coast Guard had been back with divers to investigate. Hopefully they were on top of things. I struggled to get the little boat turned around and headed back to the scene of the crime. Not far from my destination, my heart sped. When I came near the place where Adrian’s kayak went down, I couldn’t go any farther. Panic filled my throat. I headed for shore instead.

I dragged the vessel onto the sandy shore where I’d attended so many parties, and sat in the soft white sand, scooping and releasing the grains by the handful. Being at the scene of the crime gave me a panic attack. I should’ve expected as much. The sun shifted lower on the horizon until only a sliver of silver remained against a backdrop of shadows. Hues of deep purple and gray gave my nostalgic spot a creepy edge. Tiny sand dunes formed under my hands as I worked through everything I knew.

What was Perkins up to? I remembered him talking to someone on the phone. What did he want out of?

I leaned back on my elbows, debating how soon to start paddling home, when a huge yacht passed in view. The lights were off and the motor quiet. It slowed and blinked out of sight against the dark horizon. I squinted into the night, stepping carefully into the grasses at the water’s edge. As I crouched against a weedy bank, my teeth chattered with nerves. Though it wasn’t the same boat, the memories were fresh. Definitely anxiety.

After ten days at home, I was the one who needed a therapist.

A splash in the distance put my muscles on lockdown. Every inch of me tensed to flee, but curiosity pressed through the veil of fear. I inched through the dense grass, needing to know what was happening, careful of every step, mindful of every breath. When I got as close as I dared on the shore, I pulled my phone out to tell Sebastian I was running late. I planned to stay until the boat left. No way I’d ever enter the water on the inflatable boat with another suspicious vessel around.

The groaning turned to chain clinking and then another splash. I choked on my tongue. The black barrels dumped by the first boat were being carried up by the new boat. In my experience, Coast Guard boats didn’t perform covert ops. Also, their boats had lights. I sent another text to Sebastian. Bad guys wouldn’t clean their own dump site.

My guess? This had never been a dump site.

I thrilled at the revelation. The missing link. The Coast Guard would find nothing when they searched later because this boat wanted what was left behind. Ha! I performed a tiny victory dance alone in the dark weeds. I sent another quick text.
Trafficking.
Brady and Perkins were traffickers
. My fingers couldn’t text the new theory fast enough.

Onboard, shadows moved around the barrel. The unmistakable silhouette of automatic rifles appeared in the moonlight. I gasped. The men on deck removed the barrel lid. Prying the top took several hands. Anticipation paralyzed me. How much drugs could fill a barrel that size? A million dollars’ worth? How big had Brady and Perkins’s cuts been?

The men maneuvered the lid away from the barrel and reached inside. They removed long barreled Rambo guns and passed them to one another. Guns. Not drugs. A weight settled over my chest, flattening my lungs into my back. Satisfied, they reloaded the barrel and rolled it against the wall. They lowered the pulley into the water again.

Ding-ding!
The return text came as loud as a freight train against the silent, eerie night.

Four words from Sebastian.
Get Out Of There.

Voices carried from the boat, loud and fast. Chattering. Swearing. Oh no.

Ding-ding!

Damn it!

Now!

A spotlight swept over the grass, landing on me. I uttered another four-letter word and ran. Dashing through the forest was impossible. The area was deeply wooded. Branches flicked out to catch my skin as I passed. The rev of a small-craft motor broke through the night. They were coming for me. I darted and jumped around what I could see. My sunburn flamed with the assault of the thickets and trees. This time I knew where I’d entered the forest and which direction to find the access road.

Ding-ding!

The motor stopped. The boat was on shore. They’d be in the forest in seconds, with lights and guns. My stomach dropped to my toes, but adrenaline propelled me on. I needed to tell Sebastian what was happening but couldn’t afford the time it would take to send the text.

Shots rang out behind me, and I threw my back against an enormous tree trunk. Breath seared my throat with every gasp.

“Did you get her?” A loud, gravelly voice boomed.

“Aw.”

The response confused me. How long did I have before they came to take me away? Perhaps they’d kill me and leave me in the forest. I blinked back tears, brokenhearted for my parents to lose me this way. Parents shouldn’t outlive their children. How many hours had I spent consoling moms after losing a child to a government assignment? Too many.

“I thought it was a person,” the second voice said more softly.

Every sound in the forest disappeared until only one, save their voices, remained. A sound I’d grown up hearing in the same forest. The gentle snuffling of a pony.
Bang!
One last shot, and then there was no more snuffling.

Footfalls and crackling branches marked the pair’s trip away from me. The roar of their small boat’s engine vanished into the night. My heart stopped beating. The
whoosh
of blood beat inside my head.

Ding-ding!

Good grief. I wiped silent tears and fumbled to check the phone. A dozen panic-infused texts from Sebastian. A tiny sob slid over my lips. My legs wobbled. Too terrified to stand, I told him where to find me. I didn’t want to be seen in the woods.

I surely didn’t want to see the pony.

Chapter Twenty-One

Time ticked by. I held my breath again and again, afraid I’d be heard, afraid to be found, afraid someone still stood nearby. Tears escaped for the stupid pony. I hated the ponies, but they’d never seemed vulnerable before. Now, one had suffered a fate meant for me. Did I owe it something? Mom would go berserk when she heard about the pony. My karma was probably wrecked for life.

Hoofbeats in the distance. I hoped they weren’t headed my way. What would they do when they found their fallen brother? Did ponies grieve? My mind circled through endless thoughts at random. I tried every suggestion I gave patients struggling with anxiety. I sang jingles in my head and replayed favorite memories: Adrian building sand castles. My parents walking hand in hand. Claire’s crazy closet. Sebastian’s kiss.

My eyes stung, and their lids grew heavy. Distant shadows morphed and changed. The trees and night creatures made it impossible to relax for the briefest moment. I leaned against the tree, and an owl screeched overhead, causing me to jump and scrape my burned back against the rough bark. My muscles ached from the tension. Mice dashed over leaves on the ground.

Thunder cracked, and a flash of lightning ran sideways across the sky overhead. Clouds darkened the forest around me one moment, only to be lit the next with a burst of light. The process reminded me of a heavenly strobe light. I pulled my knees to my chest as drops of rain made their way through the canopy overhead. Despite the day’s heat, the drops were cold, stinging my burn. Shivers racked my body. Nerves and rain took over.

With every flash of lightning, I counted, waiting for the thunder. The storm moved closer until I could only reach three before the sky lit over me. The hair on my arms stood at attention. Gooseflesh covered my body. Little by little the drops covered me, falling faster, closer. Soon it became impossible to listen for killers in the forest. The steady pitter-patter of raindrops and cracking thunder masked everything, including my thoughts.

One distant shadow bothered me more than the others. While it remained silent, it seemed to draw near. With every flash of lightning, the shadow moved forward. Taller than the others, there was a distinct human-like quality to it. I stretched my hands to the ground beside me, gripping a fallen branch, and keeping it close to my chest. If I was still enough, and the shadow was a man, he might not see me in time to shoot me before I brained him. A weak plan, but my only plan.

Maybe I could drag him over to the pony afterward. My throat tightened. What kind of person shot a pony? Rational thought returned, forcing my focus onto the shadow.

Oh. The kind of man who thought they were shooting me. My mind kept rejecting the direct process of this information. The idea registered and bounced off, replaced by a more abstract and general idea. A protective mechanism. I’d diagnosed the behavior in others, never expecting to ever find myself in the same condition.

The shadow drew nearer, creeping over the trees and earth. My fingers burned from their grip on my feeble weapon.

Crack!
Boom!
Lightning and thunder arrived in the same beat, shaking the earth around me. A man in a hunter’s crouch moved in at rapid speed. In a flash, I was on my feet swinging for a home run.

“I’ve got her,” he spoke into the air.

I glanced around, expecting to see his cohorts, then swung the limb with every ounce of bravery I could muster. My arms braced for the hit, expecting backlash, and hoping for an opportunity to escape.

The moment didn’t go as planned. My hit was thwarted. The branch was wrenched from my grip. My body crushed against the man. His warm hands burned my icy wet skin. Tears erupted at the firm but familiar touch. I recognized the quiet shush of breath over my hair. Sebastian. I gripped him back and he loosened his hold. He wore a big pair of night vision goggles. Standard issue. I recognized them, and I approved. This meant he could see the coast was clear.

We walked briskly back to the service road, rain pouring over us. The energy surging through me, replacing defeat and driving me forward, came as a surprise. A few minutes before, I’d been frozen in fear. Sebastian’s presence melted through the ice and fueled me. I filled him in on everything I’d seen, recounting every detail. He belted me in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, locked the door and sighed. He called the sheriff and the park ranger while I let my parents know we wouldn’t be over for drinks after all. Mom sounded near hysterics. It must be hard to be my mom this week.

“Didn’t you get my message this morning?” Sebastian tossed his phone in the cup holder and turned out of the park. No paramedics and flashing lights. This time he’d come alone.

“You didn’t call in the cavalry?”

“I didn’t know who I could trust. I stayed on with Mark Eaton until I reached your cell. I had no idea what would happen if we found the cell and you were gone. Did you see the screensaver? I thought you’d look at my laptop. I should’ve texted you.”

He didn’t know who he could trust. Mark was tech support, not an agent. What had he learned today while he was at work?

“You weren’t supposed to get into trouble.” He exited the national park and shot me a pointed glare.

“I didn’t mean to.” I swallowed another urge to bawl. I didn’t need to be scolded by him. I needed him to tell me things were going to be all right.

His jaw worked as he looked my way.

I turned my face to the window. “I went out on the water to think.”

The Range Rover pulled by the sidewalk outside the police station. Sheriff Murray and his deputy climbed into the cruiser. With his window down, Sebastian nodded in their direction and waited. Raindrops bounced off the window frames, landing on my soaked body.

“We need to talk.” Sebastian wedged an elbow over the armrest between us. The rain had slowed to less than a drizzle. Enormous claps of thunder rocked the world around us. The sheen of water on the road glistened under the streetlights.

I wiped my face with the back of my hands and jumped at the sight of Sheriff Murray outside my window instead of Sebastian’s. He looked mad enough to spit. His expression shook loose the words building in my head. Sebastian powered down my window from the driver’s side control panel.

“I think Perkins killed Brady.” I cleared my throat, hoping to sound brave and well-informed. “Perkins was Brady’s partner, and they were getting paid to look away while those guys the Coast Guard arrested dumped barrels of guns into the ocean. I saw another boat retrieve them tonight. I was wrong. They weren’t contaminating the water. They’re using the shelf where Brady fished to make an easy exchange of weapons.”

Sheriff Murray’s face paled visibly under the cone of the streetlight. Sebastian laid a hand on mine. The act might’ve looked like comfort to someone else. I felt instinctively it was his way of warning me not to go on. He’d said he didn’t know who he could trust.

The sheriff took note of our touch and his eyes narrowed on mine. Blood returned to his face, pinking him up like a tamale. “Perkins is dead. Murdered on the mainland.” His palms clamped down on the edge of my door frame. He leaned his torso in toward me. “Don’t make any plans to leave town, Miss Price.”

“What? Why?” Did he honestly believe I’d somehow overpowered Perkins? Why would I even try? My body trembled, and my teeth chattered.

“Did you go to see Perkins? Keep asking questions? You think the officials need your help figuring this out?” He shook his head in disgust. “You government types are all the same.”

“I was human resources.” My mouth went dry.

How did he know I went to see Perkins? I looked at Sebastian for guidance. He moved his head a fraction of an inch to the side. All expression fell from his face. If he’d been in the passenger seat, he might have dragged the poor sheriff in through the window.

“No.” Really, how much damage could one more lie do? My karma was already toast.

“So, I suppose the blue and white love bus neighbors saw parked a block from his house at the approximate time of his death belonged to someone else?”

“I—” I looked at Sebastian. He squeezed my hand again.

The sheriff shot eye daggers at both of us and then returned to his cruiser. When he pulled the driver’s door open, the interior light blinked on, revealing the deputy riding shotgun. They crept away, pulling past us at two miles per hour, never looking away from the Range Rover, though I doubted they could see much inside, considering the hour.

“Breathe.” Sebastian squeezed my hand then shifted into Drive.

I let out a long breath and pulled in a fresh one. Dizziness swept over me. “I—I thought Perkins was the killer. He was a maniac last time I was at his place. He yelled at his dog, screamed at someone on the phone and thrashed around inside his house like a madman that day.”

“You’ve stumbled into an ongoing investigation.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled.

My mouth dropped open. “How are you smiling about this?”

“Irony. I enjoy the irony.” He passed my apartment and angled up to the curb outside the boathouse.

“Irony. Like visiting the place I keep getting shot at?”

“Yep.” He rounded the front of the Range Rover and helped me out onto the grass. My legs wobbled a moment before finding strength enough to hold me. “I think it’s safe to say they won’t be here tonight.”

“Because no one in their right mind would expect me to come back here.”

“Precisely.”

I wasn’t sure I loved his logic. “Why not my apartment?” Though I could guess the reasoning there.

“I’m afraid it’s bugged, or at the very least someone’s watching it, and we need to talk.”

Swinging the front door open took me aback. The inside looked amazing, not at all like I’d left it. Sebastian shut the door and moved to hit a light switch in a room away from the street. Soft light illuminated the area. My office.

“Your dad, Hank and some others have been here every morning. I ran into Maple Shuster at the grocery and she told me everything. They wanted to surprise you.”

I ran my hand over a row of mahogany file cabinets. A credenza on the far wall held all my books and a picture of my dad and me at high school graduation. I blinked out a tear. The drawers were filled with office supplies. Freshly sharpened pencils tied with a ribbon sat inside a mug on the new desk.

“You went to Crate and Barrel.” I sniffed. “You shouldn’t have.”

He pulled me to his chest. “I didn’t. Claire ordered it all and sent it to The Pony.”

“I love her so much.”

“Well, this town certainly loves you. Everyone wants to thank you for your help, but no one wants to admit you counsel them.” He chuckled. “I love this place.”

“Thinking of moving?”

“I don’t think I could keep up the commute on a regular basis.” He pulled me back and rolled out my perfect ergonomic chair. A tiny bowl on the floor had the word
Freud
painted on the side.

“Freud?”

“I thought he could stay here. He’s a pretty good mouser.”

“Perfect.”

I took a seat in my new chair and Sebastian positioned himself on the desk in front of me. He wadded some tissues from the box beside him and handed them over.

“Thanks. I promise to repay everyone when the insurance comes in. This was way more than a couple of conversations are worth. I would’ve talked to all those people for free.” I dabbed my face with the tissues. What a night.

“We know. That’s part of your draw. And don’t hold your breath for any insurance money. Where bombs and guns are involved, there’s always an investigation.”

“After I complete the police report.” Of course.

He gave me a half smile. “What am I going to do with you?”

Kiss me?
I sent out telepathically.

He looked away. “Tell me everything about your visit to Perkins’s house.”

I started at the beginning, being more thorough than ever, in case Sebastian heard something in the details I’d missed. When I finished the story about Killer and the rolls and my sunburn, I recounted the dark boat and pony killing. Sebastian kept his expression dry, but heat flashed in his eyes at some of my facts. His fingers curled tighter around the desk’s edge when I was in danger. He looked as if he wanted to travel through time and flatten someone.

If only he could.

“So, I was sure Perkins killed Brady to collect all the money. Then I saw the barrels and realized how much money he stood to gain. I assumed traffickers wouldn’t be stingy with the monthly stipend. I guess I was wrong.”

“Maybe. But his death doesn’t prove him innocent of Brady’s murder. It only shows someone wanted him gone, too.”

“You said this is an ongoing investigation? The FBI knew about the trafficking?”

He nodded. His eyes shifted around the room. “Someone on the inside is supporting this. I need to find out who that is. There’s a chance you’ve been spared so far because they know me, not you. I’ve been asking around and following threads at the department since you found the barrels off shore. Gun trafficking is big business. This afternoon I got word of an internal investigation with a file fitting what you saw off the coast. We need to be careful until this is sorted out. Know that I’m on it all the time. I won’t allow you to continue living in fear or danger.”

I’d confessed my worries late one night to Sebastian—what if someone I knew and loved was involved in the mess? At the time, I’d worried it might be Adrian.

“They wouldn’t have spared me tonight.”

A curt nod showed we were in agreement, and he didn’t want to dissect the idea any more than I did.

“I’m going to go back to work tomorrow as if I don’t suspect anything. I’ll plant seeds and drop ideas to see if anyone bites.” Sebastian looked glum.

I imagined believing the agency he served so dutifully might be crooked would take a toll on a patriot like him. Personally, I believed most people had a price tag. Not to be negative about humanity, but everyone had something they found hard to pass up. Money for food, a surgery, aging parent, sick child, debt, gambling. Everyone had a moment of weakness at some point. The sad thing about working with murderers was the finality. There was no backing out. When I was weak, it involved cheesecake. An extra slice of cheesecake I could undo with a little effort. Getting in bed with gun runners, not so much.