Lantern Beach Mysteries Box Set

by Christy Barritt

  Walter raised his chin. “Again, that’s all speculation.”

  “Maybe that is. But this isn’t.” She pressed play on her phone and held up the video of Sarge. “Not only is there a video on this site that he left behind, but he also attached documents with pages and pages of proof about how Mr. Hamby has been stealing money and setting up the other investors at his firm.”

  “Walter?” Annalise asked. “Tell me it’s not true.”

  He glanced around silently. Finally, his features sagged with defeat. “It’s true. I’ve been taking money to help pay for your extravagant lifestyle. Our expenses have grown to be more than we can sustain, but I didn’t want to break that to you.”

  “Walter . . .” Her voice cracked, and she swung her head back and forth.

  Diane stepped up beside her and put a hand on her back. Where had she come from? It didn’t matter. The two women hugged.

  “Walter Hamby, you’re under arrest . . .” the chief started.

  As they walked away, Mac turned to Cassidy. “You know, I think you’d make a good little officer, Cassidy. Have you ever considered it?”

  Cassidy shook her head, ignoring the swell of pride in her. “No interest.”

  “Well, maybe you can just be like neighborhood watch . . . on steroids. Or should I say neighborhood watch on a sugar high?” He grinned.

  She smiled. “Sure. I think I can handle that. Crime prevention starts with people watching out for neighbors.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Good job here.”

  “It was all Bozeman.”

  Mac snorted. “Sure it was.”

  Just then, Serena appeared with a camera. As she snapped a picture, Cassidy raised her hand to block her face.

  “What in heaven’s name are you doing, child?” Mac stared at Serena like he was ready to arrest her.

  “I just got another part-time job as a beat reporter for the local newspaper.” Serena grinned, looking overly proud of herself. “This is my first assignment.”

  The last thing Cassidy needed was her picture in the paper. Hopefully her hand had gone up and blocked her face in time. Besides . . . “Aren’t you supposed to be working for me right now?”

  Serena shrugged. “I figured it couldn’t hurt anything to snap a quick picture . . .”

  Cassidy didn’t have time to argue right now. But they were going to need to have a long talk later.

  After the chief had questioned everyone and gotten statements—and Walter had been led away in handcuffs—Cassidy turned to walk away.

  Before she made it three steps, Diane called her. As Cassidy turned, Diane threw her arms around her.

  “Thank you so much,” she said, more tears running down her face. These appeared to be happy tears. “The chief said he was releasing Phil.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “This wouldn’t have happened without you. I can’t say thank you enough.” Her gaze went to Ty. “Thanks to both of you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ty said.

  Diane turned toward Cassidy. “If you ever give up your career in ice cream sales, maybe you should look into becoming a detective.”

  Cassidy smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Diane rushed away, obviously anxious to get to her husband. Cassidy walked back toward Ty’s truck, in no hurry to be gone. Ty seemed to share the sentiment as he strolled beside her.

  “I have to agree with Diane: that was pretty impressive back there,” Ty said, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black cargo shorts.

  Cassidy shrugged. “It was nothing. I’m guessing that website we found in the necklace will have all the information that’s needed to put Walter away for life. I think Sarge gave it to Diane, fearing that if something happened to him, she would find that site. It was almost like an insurance policy.”

  “Clever on his part. But why didn’t he just go to the police himself? Why did he make things so complicated?”

  “I think it’s a lot harder for people to be whistleblowers than most people think,” Cassidy said. “They’re turning against their circle of friends. They’re putting their job at risk. And if they’re wrong, they could lose everything.”

  “Is that right?”

  Cassidy snapped back to her ditzy persona. “I mean, that’s what I read in one of those Sue Grafton novels.”

  Ty glanced at her. “I never realized they were so helpful to solving crimes. Listen to you. I’m going to start calling you Sherlock.”

  Watch yourself, Cassidy. Don’t blow this. “You don’t have to do that. It was mostly luck.”

  “I don’t know if I’d say that.” Ty paused at his truck and leaned against it. The look in his eyes made it clear he was still thinking things through. “What about those guys we saw at the lighthouse? How are they connected?”

  That was a great question. “I’m not sure. I say we keep our eyes open. There’s nothing to report yet—we can’t prove anything. It’s not illegal to meet at night. Right? I mean, that’s what makes sense to me.”

  “You’re right.” Ty turned toward her, something shifting in his gaze. “I guess neither of us gets that reward money.”

  Cassidy frowned. Though she hadn’t really needed the money, she’d known that Ty had wanted it. “I’m sorry. I know you were counting on it for your nonprofit.”

  “I’d be foolish to count on something like that for the nonprofit. But I thought it might be worth a shot.”

  She studied him, admiring how the sun hit his face and highlighted all the intriguing angles there. Guilt flooded her again.

  Ryan. She was dating Ryan. And besides, she could hardly stand Ty. Most of the time. Maybe less now than when they’d first met.

  Her emotions were getting the best of her again, which was never good.

  She cleared her throat. “You have any other ideas on how to raise the capital you need?”

  “No, not yet. But I’m only just starting. It will all work out one way or another.”

  An idea lingered in the back of Cassidy’s head. Her father’s company gave out grants to a certain number of nonprofits per year. If Ty could apply . . . it could really help him get his idea off the ground. But somehow Cassidy would have to recuse herself from the process.

  She needed to think the idea through a bit more. “That’s great. I hope it does.”

  At the thought of her father’s company, Cassidy’s mind went back to Larry. Had his vacation here on the island really been an unfortunate coincidence? Right now, she had to believe it was. But she’d keep her eyes wide open in the meantime.

  Ty shifted again, but his gaze never left her. “You know, Cassidy, we make a pretty good team—when we’re not at each other’s throats.”

  She smiled, remembering the progression of their friendship—if that’s what she’d call it. They were still more like acquaintances, but somehow they felt like more. “I agree. We could make a good team—as long as you don’t rub me the wrong way.”

  Ty raised his eyebrows. “You mean, as long as you don’t rub me the wrong way.”

  They stared at each other and smiled, sharing a knowing look.

  Maybe being here on Lantern Beach wasn’t that bad after all. But Cassidy couldn’t forget the bigger issue at hand: there was a bounty out for her life and a group of ruthless gang members trying to track her down for revenge.

  The end was far from sight, and somehow she had to make herself invisible for the next few months. If the past week had proven anything, it was that being invisible was harder than she’d ever anticipated.

  Prologue

  Six Weeks Earlier

  Cady Matthews jerked her eyes open, blanching at the sideways world splayed before her.

  Sideways? No, her environment wasn’t slanted.

  Cady was.

  Her face—her entire body, for that matter—pressed with unusual heaviness against a gritty floor. Her pulse pounded dangerously fast, and she was keenly aware of everything going on around her.
<
br />   Every movement. Every sound. Every pulse of the earth.

  Terrifying silence stretched through the chilly air. It was the silence of the unknown. The unseen. The un . . . remembered.

  Cady blinked, her eyes and mouth painfully dry.

  What was going on? Where was she? Even more, how did she get here?

  She scanned the room around her. Wherever she was, the place was dark with only tiny windows atop two walls. The floors were cement and dirty. The walls were a sickly hue of yellow offset by massive water stains.

  As Cady glanced out the open door to her left, she realized she was in an office, most likely adjoining an old . . . warehouse? The place appeared to have been abandoned a decade ago based on the grime and odor.

  She pushed herself up from her prone position. Her head pounded even harder, the throbs coming with fury.

  Something was wrong. Majorly wrong.

  The last thing Cady remembered was Raul Sanders pulling up beside her as she walked down the water-logged, dim street after work. He’d ordered her to get into his oversized, blinged-out SUV.

  She hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near the leader of DH-7, a notorious gang that instilled fear within people up and down the West Coast. Their reach was rapidly expanding, and with the expansion came trouble. Danger. Death.

  But Cady’s mission was to bring them down. That was why she’d gone undercover and infiltrated the group. She had hardly slept a wink in the fifty-eight days since the assignment had started. And, as part of her cover, she had to befriend the louse who put money and power above innocent lives. Raul was the most evil man she’d ever met. The world would be safer without him.

  Because of the assignment, everything had been stripped away from Cady. Her safe little life was gone. Now each moment felt uncertain. How could she return to normal after this?

  She already knew the answer. She couldn’t. She’d never be the same when this was over. She only hoped the changes would be worth it.

  Cady blinked again, trying to get her thoughts back into focus. Everything blurred around her. Her head felt like gelatin had been stuffed inside, preventing her thoughts from correctly activating.

  Raul must have brought her to this place. It was the only thing that made sense. She squinted as she tried to remember.

  But she couldn’t. Everything was blank—including how much time had passed. That realization caused a shiver to run up her spine and back down again.

  Not knowing didn’t sit well with her.

  One thing she knew for sure: wherever she was, she needed to get out of here.

  She braced herself against the floor to push herself up. As she did, she noticed her hands for the first time.

  The air drained from her lungs.

  Blood. Her hands were covered in blood. Every crevice. The fine lines of her fingerprints. Underneath her nails.

  She scrambled to her feet, panic closing in. As she glanced at her shirt, a small cry escaped.

  More blood.

  Just what had she done?

  All Cady knew for certain was that it must be something terrible.

  Chapter 1

  Today’s Goals: Sell ice cream. Mind my own business. Stop dwelling on the past.

  Cassidy Livingston, known in her previous life as police detective Cady Matthews, stood on her deck and stared at the angry gray ocean that surrounded the island of Lantern Beach, North Carolina. Dark clouds gathered over the expanse of water in the distance. Meteorologists had promised a doozy of a storm later today, and if the horizon was any indicator, they were correct.

  Thunderstorms didn’t bode well for ice cream sales. And if Cassidy didn’t sell ice cream, she’d be forced to sit inside her cottage and count the passing minutes until she could come out of hiding and return home to Seattle. Or contemplate writing that self-help book. Or look for another mystery to solve, which might blow her cover.

  Those ideas were neither tempting nor wise.

  She closed her eyes for a moment as memories pummeled her. She’d had that dream again last night. Only it wasn’t a dream. It was more memory melded into a living nightmare.

  Every time she remembered the blood on her hands, she flinched, her muscles tightening so quickly that air rushed from her lungs. The images would never leave her—maybe not until she had answers. Except answers might lead to more nightmares.

  If she could only remember . . .

  Fear and worry lead only to weakness.

  It was one of the quotes from the Day-at-a-Glance inspirational calendar her best friend, Lucy, had given her. Its wisdom was never-ending, and right now it reminded Cassidy that the last thing she needed was to become weak.

  Taking another sip of her coffee, she glanced across the street at her neighbor’s house, desperate for a distraction from her thoughts. Ty Chambers lived there.

  The two of them chatted sometimes, but Cassidy had been making an effort to stay away. Something about the man captured her imagination—and that was the last thing she needed or wanted.

  After all, she was dating Ryan Samson, even if she hadn’t seen him in more than four weeks. Before that, they’d taken a two-month break while she was undercover with DH-7. Circumstances had caused the divide between them to feel stronger and wider all the time.

  But Cassidy had also stayed away because she knew Ty hated liars. When he found out Cassidy wasn’t who she’d claimed to be, she wasn’t sure if their relationship would survive. Yet she couldn’t tell him the truth about who she was or why she was here. She couldn’t tell anyone. Only one person knew: Samuel Stephens, the task force head.

  With her gaze still angled toward his place, she saw Ty step onto the deck and wave. Cassidy’s cheeks heated as she waved back, caught staring. Ty looked like he’d just gotten up, in his white T-shirt and with his messy hair. Of course, his hair was always messy, but that was part of his appeal.

  As he leaned against his deck, his muscles flexed. Cassidy’s throat clenched when she caught sight of his impressive biceps. She quickly looked away before he caught her staring again.

  A few seconds later, her phone buzzed.

  It was a text message. From Ty.

  You should secure everything around your house. This storm will bring strong winds.

  Well, that was helpful since she hadn’t been in Lantern Beach during a storm yet. Her phone buzzed again as Ty continued.

  Tie down the chairs on your deck so they don’t fly into your windows.

  Cassidy stared at the massive wooden chairs behind her. The last thing she needed was the hassle of her rental being destroyed. She sighed and typed back:

  Do you have any rope I can borrow?

  Ty replied right away and told her he’d bring some over in a few minutes.

  Perfect. Better yet, Cassidy would meet him. No need making him do all the work. She believed in carrying her weight.

  As she rushed down the exterior stairway from her deck, a gust of wind swept over the area, bringing with it a smattering of sand from the massive dunes that separated her place from the beach. It served as an ominous hint of what was to come later when the storm hit full force.

  She paused beneath Ty’s deck to wait for him. No doubt he’d have to come down here to the little shed under his house to get the rope. As she waited, a chill washed over her. The wind was bringing with it not just sand but also a rush of more temperate air.

  All of a sudden, something dripped down on her from above. Was it pouring rain already? She glanced beyond the deck and didn’t see any raindrops.

  She pulled her shirt to her nose. That smelled like . . . urine?

  She looked up, just in time to feel another stream of liquid descend. She gasped and ducked out of the way before it could hit her again.

  “Kujo, no!” a deep voice thundered from above her. “Not on the deck, you crazy dog.”

  Cassidy’s mouth opened.

  Kujo? You had to be kidding. What kind of dog went to the bathroom on a deck?

&nbs
p; Ty pounded down the steps, towing Kujo behind him, and drew to a sudden stop at the bottom. His eyes widened when he saw Cassidy standing there, her hand still on her wet shirt and most likely a look of unconcealed revulsion on her face.

  He opened his mouth and then shut it before finally saying, “You didn’t . . . Kujo didn’t . . .?”

  “He just peed on me.” Cassidy’s stomach churned with disgust.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Another thought hit her. “Did you know I was down here . . . ?”

  He let out a rough, startled chuckle that lasted all of two seconds. “What? No. I would never do that.”

  Cassidy remembered a few of their past interactions. They’d been heated and unpleasant, to say the least. She thought they’d moved beyond that but . . . “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. You really think I would let Kujo do that?”

  She crossed her arms. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  “For Pete’s sake, Cassidy—”

  Before he could finish, a car pulled into Ty’s driveway, the driver honking incessantly as if announcing himself at a parade. Cassidy and Ty turned toward the vehicle at the same time, their conversation forgotten—at least for now.

  “Oh . . . wow.” Ty raked a hand through his hair as he stared at the station wagon.

  Cassidy froze, temporarily forgetting about the dog pee on her shirt as a man and woman emerged from a modern-day station wagon, excitement oozing from them. They were probably both in their sixties, and their wide smiles made them seem over-the-moon happy.

  The woman squealed as she stood at full height, her hands raised in the air and joy written all over her round face. “Tyson Chambers! Aren’t you as handsome as ever.”