by Quinn Avery
I covered my face with my hands. Just how hard had he been hit when he’d received those concussions? I wondered. “I’m the one who posted it, Finn.” I almost felt sorry for him when he threw me a confused look.
“But you already asked me about her.”
Willing myself patience, I lifted his arm from around my neck. “Why don’t you go hang out with Lucky and buy those two women a drink?”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he agreed, peering over to where the women stood beside the bar.
As he shuffled away in the sand, Grayson approached me with an urgent speed, wrapping his fingers around my elbows. “You’re just in time.”
Heart fluttering from his touch, I took in his sandalwood scent and the sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes. “In time for what?”
His lips spread with a warm smile. “Ginny’s brother just arrived.”
Nine
I snuck a glance over at the last man to shake Grayson’s hand. He was at least two decades older than Ginny, and looked sorely out of place on the beach in black loafers paired with dress pants and a dress shirt the same shade of yellow as the polka dots on his bright green tie. Perspiration lined his forehead as he eyed the other men who had answered my post about Ginny.
“Are you sure he didn’t say he’s her dad?” I whispered to Grayson.
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to judge a man based on his looks?” Grayson teased with a short chuckle. “Listen…I’ll let the others go, and we can interview the brother together.” He glanced back at the motley crew of men chatting at the table behind him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve extracted all the information I’m going to get out of those guys.”
Disappointment loosened my muscles. “Really?” I would lose my chance to draw out whoever had left the note and sent me a text. “What did they say about her?”
“None of them remembered her having a gold tooth or any kind of unusual dental work. I’m convinced half of them only agreed to come here because they thought maybe she was back in town. They basically all said a different version of the same thing—Ginny was an adventurous lover, and had a nice set of—”
“Okay, I get it,” I said, stepping back to disconnect his fingers from my elbows. Eyes fluttering to the dark sky, I held out the palms of my hands. “Considering you’re a detective and everything, I’ll trust your instinct on this.”
His smile slipped into a one-sided grin. “Go ahead and grab a smaller table for the three of us. I’ll bring the brother over in a minute. You can take the role of lead interrogator.”
When he turned away, I peered at the alleged brother one last time. What if the man was only pretending to be Ginny’s brother? I wondered while snagging one of the high top tables farthest from the tiki bar where it wasn’t as loud. Could he be the one harassing me?
I jumped when Beckett set a glass of water on the table. Lucky was right on his heels. “Well? Did you find Ginny’s killer?”
“No, but apparently we caught the attention of her brother.” I bent to straighten Lucky’s bandana and offer him my water. His long, pink tongue lapped it greedily. “Hopefully he’ll have some helpful information.”
“You’ve been hanging around Detective Dark and Dreamy for an entire week now, Zo. You’ve redecorated his house, and you’re fostering a stray together.” Beckett set a fist on his hip and wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you going to sit there and tell me the two of you still haven’t done a little tango in the sheets?”
“I already told you guys…he wants me to think of him as a big brother,” I muttered, scratching Lucky’s fur beneath the pillow cone.
Beckett let out a flat laugh. “Sweetie, this is the South. That never stopped anyone around here.” As Grayson and Ginny’s brother started for us, Beckett straightened. “Just act cool, and turn up your flirt a notch. I know you have it in you. I’ll come back for your drink orders.”
In a handful of excited heartbeats, Grayson and the man had joined me. I stood as Grayson made the introductions.
“Zoey Zastrow, meet George Jones.”
I shook the man’s hand, not surprised to find it cold and clammy considering the amount of sweat on his forehead. “Thank you for coming to meet with us, Mr. Jones.”
The man replied with a genuine smile. He was somewhat handsome up close, with a square jaw and sharp, masculine features. “Call me George. And actually, I came here because I was hoping you’d know something about Ginny’s whereabouts.”
Grayson and I exchanged a quick look of concern before we sat. Lucky sprawled out in the sand beneath my chair with a satisfied groan.
“When did you last see her?” I asked.
In the seat beside me, George rubbed at his forehead and closed his eyes. “Let me see…our sister Ginger last saw her on her twenty-first birthday. I think I last saw her almost an entire year prior to that.”
“You hadn’t seen her in a year?” I asked.
He glanced back at me and let out a weighted sigh. “I should probably give you a little background on Ginny before you make any judgments. She’s a half-sister, born out of our dad’s work affair. My sister and I were adults, and our mom was just starting to enjoy empty-nesting. The woman sleeping with our dad was a young nurse at one of the clinics he frequented, and announced she wasn’t keeping the baby. She didn’t want to be anchored down by a child. When our mom found out, she insisted on raising Ginny as her own.”
“Whoa,” I whispered. “That’s—”
“It wasn’t as easy-going as it sounds, believe me,” George told me with a humph. “She was still very much in love with our dad despite his indiscretions, and she couldn’t stand the thought of his child being terminated. Things were a little awkward once they first brought Ginny home from the hospital. My sister and I could sense the tension between our parents. And Ginny came into the world looking like a carbon copy of her birth mom. As she grew older, she had her wild attitude, too. She did pretty much whatever she wanted, and wouldn’t listen to anyone. Our mom started to resent her a little more with every year, and eventually moved out. Dad was left to raise a five-year-old by himself with occasional help from our sister Ginger. I lived six hours away with my wife and kids of my own, but Ginger went to college nearby in Niceville, so she was able to drive to Destin on weekends to help watch Ginny.”
“You grew up in Destin, Florida?” I asked. Could it be the ‘D’ city Finn had vaguely remembered?
George nodded. “I eventually moved back there once Ginny got older.” He slumped back in his chair. “Ginger tried her hardest to be a mother to Ginny, but she eventually resented the role because she was missing out on the college experience. It almost cost me my marriage when I tried to help out. Ginny was so wild that my kids were scared to be around her. Our dad was a pharmaceutical salesman, and spent a lot of time on the road. He hired whatever babysitters he could find to watch Ginny. Most of them weren’t fit to care for a child. She basically grew up with an endless string of incompetent strangers watching over her. By the time she was thirteen, she was drinking hard alcohol and smoking weed daily. She dropped out of high school right before her sophomore year to live with some older guy she'd met. That’s when we started to lose track of her. Ginger would occasionally see her waitressing at tourist bars.” His eyes swept over the property. “I always figured she’d end up working at a similar place, but you have to understand there are thousands of these types of bars in Florida. Last we’d heard, she had returned to Destin long enough to claim the estate willed to her by her grandfather, and then disappeared again. If I hadn’t had an alert set on my phone for her name, we may never have learned what happened to her after she left Destin.”
I felt a sudden connection to Ginny. We both had absent fathers. Only I had a fun and loving mom who was one of my best friends, and it sounded like poor Ginny really didn’t have anyone. “So you did have a wealthy grandfather?”
With a bitter sneer, George let out a flat chuckle. “He wasn’t my relation. It wa
s her birth mother’s father.”
“Do you know the approximate time period in which she returned to Destin to claim that estate?” Grayson asked.
George shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s something you’d have to ask my sister, Ginger.”
Beckett returned with a mischievous smile. “I already know what this one wants to drink,” he said to me. “Always a blueberry mule for my little jewel.” He eyed Grayson and George. “What can I get you two gentlemen?”
Grayson tipped his chin. “I’ll take one too.”
“That sounds delicious,” George agreed, setting the drink menu back in the center of the table. “Put me down for the same.”
Beckett winked in my direction. “Anything for Zoey’s friends.”
When Beckett turned to walk away, George’s gaze bounced between mine and Beckett’s matching shirts. He tipped his chin at me. “Did you work here with Ginny?”
A lump pushed against my throat. “I didn’t start here until several years after she…ah…” I glanced over at Grayson, silently begging for help. How was I supposed to tell the man we suspected his sister was dead?
“She took off without telling anyone where she was going, or even that she was leaving,” Grayson explained.
George chuckled softly. “Sounds like Ginny.” Then the chuckle died on his lips. “Wait a minute. Why are you looking for her now if it’s been over five years since she last worked here?”
Grayson folded his hands and cleared his throat. “There’s no delicate way to tell you this, George. We have reason to suspect something may have happened to her. Zoey recently stumbled across some evidence that may indicate Ginny was somehow involved.”
“You sound like a damn cop,” George snapped. His face began to turn a dark shade of scarlet when he glanced between me and Grayson. “Would someone give it to me in straight English?”
I lightly set my hand on George’s shoulder. “I found skeletal remains behind the resort. We think they belonged to a woman. There was a Beach Bummers’ employee card nearby with an older logo that would fit the time period Ginny worked here.”
Letting out a sharp breath, George pinched the bridge of his nose. “I always feared she’d end up dead.”
“At this point we’re only speculating whether or not it could be your sister,” Grayson clarified. “Based on the condition of the skeletal remains Zoey described, the timeframe would coincide with Ginny’s disappearance.”
“Why didn’t the police try to get in touch with me or Ginger?” George demanded. “Have they run dental tests?”
Guilt tugged at my insides. “Because the skull disappeared.”
“How does a skull disappear?” he snarled with a scowl. “From police evidence?”
I sunk a little deeper into my chair. “From the spot where I found it.”
He let out a dry bark. “You’re saying no one else saw this skull except for you? Were you on drugs, by chance?”
“Zoey wasn’t under the influence of anything,” Grayson assured him with an edge of irritation to his voice. “We aren’t exactly sure what might’ve happened. She found the remains one night after working a late shift, and the next morning it was gone. The local PD dug for other remains in the adjacent area, but came up empty-handed.”
Heat tingled at the base of my neck. “I think…a, um, crab may have taken off with it.”
“Maybe it was a hallucination caused by exhaustion,” George huffed, sliding from the chair to stand. “This has clearly been a waste of my time. I can’t believe I drove all this way just to hear some flaky kid tell me she had a wild theory about my sister being dead without a shred of evidence to prove it!”
“I’m not a kid!” I protested at the exact time Grayson declared, “She’s not a flake.”
George shook a finger in my direction. “I know how you kids like your murder mystery parties and true crime stories, but this is a real human being we’re talking about!”
Jaw set, Grayson rose to his feet across from him. “Mr. Jones, you’re out of line. You somehow got the wrong impression about Zoey’s intentions. She’s been relentlessly dedicated to uncovering the identity of this woman even though people like you refuse to take her seriously. I believe you owe her more respect than what you’ve shown.” From the cords of tension in his neck, it seemed he was ready to fight the much smaller man if he didn’t comply. “Have a seat,” he added in a firm tone, motioning to the empty chair.
The start of a flush burned at the base of my neck. Grayson’s sudden burst of aggression on my behalf was incredibly hot. I silently thanked Beckett’s timing when he rushed in with our drinks, hopeful the cool liquid would halt my blush.
George hesitated, deciding to reclaim his seat after Beckett placed the copper mugs on the table. He was the first to take a drink. “These are excellent,” he declared.
“I know,” Beckett sang with pride before leaving.
I regarded George with a kind look. “Whoever that skull belonged to has a family somewhere, probably worried about them the exact same way you and Ginger are worried about Ginny,” I explained, my voice gentle. “The only connection we’ve been able to make without any evidence to go by other than the employee card is the fact that your sister disappeared around the same time. We simply want to rule her out as the victim.” I took a quick sip of my mule. “Do you know by chance if Ginny had a gold filling?”
“I don’t know much about her medical history,” George admitted with a sheepish look. “But Ginger might.”
Another pang of disappointment lowered my shoulders. “Could you please ask her and let me know? It was dark, but I swear I saw something sparkle in the skull’s mouth that night.”
With a nod, George took another long drink from his copper mug. Then he smacked his lips together and said, “I could do that.”
As I watched George consume his drink, I let out a hasty breath. I was running out of questions, and didn’t feel any closer to discovering Ginny’s fate.
With a measured look, Grayson sat back with his arms folded over his chest. “Is there anything else you could tell us that might be helpful in our search for her?”
“Buddy, if I knew something useful, we probably would’ve found her by now. But if I can think of anything, or if Ginger has something useful to add, I have your number.” George sucked from his little blue straw one last time before pushing his drink away. “I better call it a night. I have to drive back early tomorrow for my daughter’s dance recital.”
I stood to shake his hand. “Thanks again for coming all this way, George.”
He gently squeezed my hand before releasing it. “Sorry I reacted the way I did. You have to admit it all sounds a little far-fetched. If you find anything on Ginny, please let us know. Grayson has my number.”
I answered with a tight smile and a little nod, then caught Grayson’s gaze. “When Beckett returns, order me another mule. I’ll be back in ten.”
Lucky hobbled behind me as I made my way inside the resort toward the employee bathroom. I hadn’t taken a break since I had clocked in for my shift, and my bladder had begun to ache.
Mariah, an always bright-eyed and bushy-tailed blonde, gave a little wave as we passed the front desk. She was nice enough, but I sensed there were kindergartners with more common sense than the 23-year-old from North Dakota. “Hey, Zoey. Hey, Zoey’s tripod dog.”
I absentmindedly waved back before slipping into the narrow hallway that led to the restrooms and Smith’s office. I made it inside the single stall and plopped down on the toilet only seconds before my full bladder decided it was done. I moaned in relief.
Lucky camped out right in front of me and whimpered, begging to be pet.
“And George thought our meeting was a waste of his time,” I muttered while scratching beneath Lucky’s cone. “We’re not any closer to finding Ginny than we were five days ago.”
All at once, darkness swallowed the room.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, blindly reaching for toilet
paper. “Someone’s in here!”
A set of heavy footsteps fell over the tiled floor. Then, silence.
“Hello?” I called out, quickly finishing up and wiggling back into my shorts. “Is someone there?”
Sharp breaths came from somewhere in the darkness.
A primal sense of fear gripped the base of my spine as I crouched down, cradling Lucky’s head against my stomach. “I have a can of pepper spray in my hand, and I’m not afraid to use it!” she lied. If only I had slipped it into my pocket earlier when the idea crossed my mind.
The familiar sound of the broken lock on the stall being slid open sent my stomach tumbling over itself. Someone was coming for me.
Far too close by for my comfort and sanity, a raspy voice whispered, “Stop searching for Ginny.”
A deep growl of warning vibrated low in Lucky’s throat. A moment later, he sprang forward, pushing the door open. A myriad of sounds followed. More growling. A man yelping.
“Lucky!” I cried. Although I was afraid he’d rip his stitches, I was more afraid of the stranger threatening me.
The bathroom door slammed against the wall, and a flicker of the hallway light passed through the room before falling dark again.
I gently pushed on the stall door. “Lucky?”
He answered with a high-pitched, distressed whine. I pressed my back against the wall and carefully shuffled over to the light switch, managing to avoid tripping over Lucky. When I turned on the light, I found him curled into a ball beneath the sink, trying to lick the site of his amputation.
Right outside the bathroom stall, next to several droplets of blood, there was a ballpoint pen that hadn’t been there when I had first entered. I bent to inspect the white words printed across the blue pen.
Island Sunshine Rentals
Ron Finkle, Owner/Agent
Ten
The dire looks Grayson kept throwing me on the ride back to his house would’ve knocked me right off my feet with flattery if I hadn’t been so irritated with myself.
