Lantern Beach Mysteries Box Set

by Christy Barritt

  No, he’d find out the traditional way.

  “Did you have a good talk with your friend last night?” Cassidy asked, but her voice sounded almost raw.

  “My friend?”

  She glanced at him. “From the West Coast?’

  “Oh, yeah. Steve. He’s in San Diego.”

  Her face went white again. What a strange reaction.

  “He’s a SEAL,” he told her. “He’s stationed out there.”

  She released a breath and nodded. “Of course.”

  “But, yeah, he’s doing well. Hoping to come out here soon for a visit.”

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the gravel parking by Skye’s produce stand.

  Cassidy gave him a look.

  “I figured it was less obvious to park across the street, just to be safe,” he explained.

  “Good choice.”

  Ty paused before getting out, knowing he’d get drenched, even with the short run from his truck to the shopping area covered by a quaint tin roof.

  Skye’s stand, on the other hand, was all handmade and salvage-store purchased. An old turquoise van with one side removed and replaced with a wooden pergola with peeling brown paint. Her baskets displaying the fruits and vegetables were all mismatched. Handwritten signs displayed the prices and were blown away on windy days. Yet all the produce was local, even if it had some bruises or less-than-desirable shapes and sizes.

  “This place is surprisingly nice.” Cassidy ducked for a better look at Buddy’s place of business. She’d only get glimpses through the pouring rain, but they’d both seen enough to realize that.

  “Someone said this place was brought in on a tractor trailer. It was already together and just had to be set up. And, I never mentioned this to Skye, but apparently the man even sold peach . . . well, peach everything. Ice cream, shakes, slushes, tea. I heard it was really good, but out of loyalty’s sake, I never tried any.”

  “Loyalty’s a good trait to have,” she said.

  “Well, at least you think there’s one good thing about me.” Was he fishing for a compliment? Quite possibly—and there was no shame in that.

  She cast him a wry smile. “At least.”

  And Cassidy wasn’t taking the bait. Just one more thing to admire about her.

  “Let’s go!” she said, opening her door.

  The sound of the rain intensified, and a coolness swept through the truck.

  The temperature was dropping, which meant—

  Another rumble of thunder seized the air, reminding them that this domain belonged to nature—and to God. It was never a bad thing to be put in place and reminded how small you were in the grand scheme of things.

  He darted out after Cassidy and paused below the awning, shaking his head to rid his skin and hair of the raindrops.

  Cassidy shrieked good-naturedly and held her hands up as another round of moisture hit her. “Really?”

  As Ty glanced at her, his breath caught. Her hair clung to her face, and her form-fitting jean shorts and T-shirt also hugged her body a little tighter. Cassidy nibbled on her bottom lip as her eyes clearly indicated she was feeling playful.

  Ty had the craziest urge to step closer and—

  “Let’s get started,” Cassidy said, turning away from him.

  Right. They’d come here to do something. Why was Ty letting himself get distracted like this?

  He turned to focus on the task at hand, his pulse still pounding. And this was why he’d thought having female Navy SEALs was a bad idea. Men were way too easily distracted. Enough said.

  “Well, this is a fruit and vegetable stand,” she started, staring at the assortment of veggies in front of her. “Interesting that Buddy left out all of this produce. Wouldn’t you think he’d be afraid someone would steal it? I think Skye takes her produce in every night.”

  Ty nodded behind him. “There is an indoor area that he keeps locked up. But I guess he thought it wasn’t worth the hassle of bringing everything in every night.”

  “Brave man.”

  “Or stupid.”

  “True that.” She picked up a tomato—a perfect looking tomato—and examined it. “This is from a greenhouse. No homegrown tomato I’ve ever bought looks this good.”

  “I have to agree.”

  Cassidy began pacing, still gripping that tomato. “So is the produce stand connected with his disappearance?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Ty said. “Everything appears normal here.”

  She walked over toward the door and jiggled it. It was locked. Of course.

  “You know how to pick a lock?” Cassidy asked, stealing a glance at Ty.

  His eyes widened. “You want me to break in?”

  “Not really break in.” She shrugged. “Just pick the lock.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “That would be breaking in.”

  “I know, but breaking in sounds so much more criminal.”

  “Because it is,” Ty said.

  “Maybe I can do it.” She put the tomato down and pulled something from her hair. “How hard can it be? They make it look so easy on TV.”

  “And in those crime novels you’ve been reading?”

  She exaggerated her agreement with an emphatic nod. “Exactly. According to those novels, anyone can be a detective.”

  Ty smiled. He was going to let Cassidy try. And when she discovered she couldn’t, they’d leave, and no one would be in trouble.

  “Got it!” Cassidy turned toward him, a wide smile on her face.

  Surprise flashed through Ty. “You got what?”

  Certainly he wasn’t understanding something.

  Cassidy gave the door a shove, and it opened, revealing boxes inside. “I got the door open.”

  “How’d you do that?” He had the strange desire to scratch his head in confusion.

  “I told you it wasn’t that hard. Because everything you see on TV is apparently true.”

  “You’re something else.” He let out another chuckle. Yet one more way this woman had surprised him. Cassidy could pick locks. It had to be a fluke because picking locks wasn’t that easy.

  Cassidy cast him another smile and stepped inside, a rebellious side of her emerging. “Come on.”

  Ty looked around but didn’t see anyone. And this was the perfect time to be here because the pouring rain offered perfect cover.

  Yet the law-abiding side of him hesitated.

  Skye. This was for Skye.

  After a moment of hesitation, he stepped inside. The place was filled with more produce, most of it in boxes. There was also an ice cream machine and all the fixings for Buddy’s peach concoctions.

  Cassidy opened one of the boxes and held up a cantaloupe. “Ah ha! Look at this.”

  She turned the fruit around and showed him a sticker on the other side—a sticker that proved this stand wasn’t selling local fruit and veggies.

  “You really think he died because his produce wasn’t homegrown?” Ty stepped closer and took the cantaloupe to examine it.

  “Not necessarily. But it seems like something we should keep in mind.”

  He held up a roll of stickers from the counter and squinted. “Even stranger, here are brand new stickers. He was placing them on the produce himself.”

  Cassidy paused and jutted a hip out. “Why would he do that?”

  “That’s a great question.”

  Cassidy pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures.

  Before they could talk anymore, a car pulled into the parking lot, the rumble of tires barely audible over the rain. Cassidy jerked her head toward Ty. He’d heard it too.

  Normally he liked to own up to what he was doing. But his gut told him, in this situation, they needed to hide.

  Because this was about more than homegrown produce.

  Chapter 11

  Cassidy’s heart pounded in her ears as Ty jerked her behind the counter.

  “Under there,” he whispered.

  She halfway wanted to confr
ont whoever had shown up. But what if it was the chief again? How were they going to explain to Bozeman that they were interfering yet again in his investigation? It wouldn’t look good.

  She squeezed beneath the counter, ignoring what could be the remains of pureed peaches and any critters that might have been feeding on them. Mainly ants.

  Ty reached beneath a wall panel and jerked something. The lights went out. Thankfully, this place hadn’t been constructed as a permanent structure, which made cutting the electricity that much easier.

  He slid beneath the counter with her just as footsteps vibrated across the wooden floor of the shed.

  Whoever was here was inside. Probably a man based on the heavy thud of the footsteps. The intruder was taking it slowly, as if assessing the stand.

  Cassidy desperately wanted a glimpse of him, wanted to see who was here. But she didn’t dare move. Not until she knew more.

  And Ty’s instincts seemed reliable as well. If both of them thought this could be trouble, then they needed to be wise.

  As they waited and listened, and as each moment seemed to slow to a thick gel, Cassidy became keenly aware of Ty behind her. She could feel his heartbeat against her back. Could feel him breathing against her neck and hair. Could smell that tantalizing leather aftershave.

  But it was more than that. His presence also brought Cassidy a weird sense of comfort. The man was strong and capable and smart. And—

  Before her thoughts could go any further, the footsteps drew closer.

  The visitor was probably only a foot away. Cassidy turned her head—though barely. But from the corner of her eyes she spotted legs. Whoever was here wore jeans and some expensive-looking loafers.

  Why had someone come by? It was almost as if he’d been alerted there was something going on here and had come to check it out.

  This wasn’t the police chief, however. The clothes and shoes were too expensive.

  Could it be Buddy? What if he wasn’t dead? What if he was just in hiding?

  Cassidy could feel Ty’s heartbeat increase against her back. His adrenaline was pumping also, wasn’t it? He was preparing for the worst.

  Her phone, she realized. Had she left it on the counter after she took that picture?

  She was usually more careful than that. But Ty had grabbed her so quickly and pushed her under here, she’d barely had time to think. Or maybe her skillset was slipping since she hadn’t been able to put her investigative talent to use.

  Whatever the reason, this wasn’t good.

  The intruder paced closer. Flipped through something on the countertop above them. Let out a grunt.

  And then he left. But neither Cassidy nor Ty dared to move. They had to know he was gone first.

  Finally, they heard an engine start. Tires on the gravel.

  And they knew the man was gone.

  Cassidy let out her breath. That had been close.

  And now she needed to see about her phone.

  Ty climbed out, stretching his long legs. A second later, he bent down and offered his hand. “The coast is clear. Come on out.”

  Cassidy let him help her out. But as soon as she stood, her eyes went to the counter and her stomach dropped.

  “We have a problem, Ty,” she said. “Whoever was here . . . he took my phone. That means he very well could figure out who I am.”

  Ty called Skye and asked her if she wanted to meet at the Crazy Chefette for lunch. Skye agreed, and Ty and Cassidy took off down the road. Rain continued to come down by the bucketful. But Cassidy hardly noticed. She was too busy thinking about her phone.

  “Did you have personal information on your home screen?” Ty asked.

  Cassidy let out a sigh. “No, I have a sunrise picture—nothing that would specifically identify me.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “I suppose. I just can’t believe I made that mistake.” How could she have been so stupid?

  “Why would you think about it otherwise?” Ty said. “It’s not like you’ve done this before.”

  If only he knew . . .

  “I wonder who that guy was,” Cassidy said, changing the subject before she gave anything away.

  “I couldn’t tell much about him, other than he had expensive tastes. Those weren’t cheap shoes he was wearing.”

  “I noticed that also. I wonder if it was Buddy. I mean, I did think I saw him yesterday.”

  “That was a lot of blood for someone to lose and still be walking around.”

  She shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t the police chief. At least he didn’t catch us again.”

  “Both of us could be off base. Maybe it was someone who wanted to buy some apples and was checking to see if the place was open.”

  Cassidy was pretty sure Ty didn’t even believe his own words. He was just trying to make her feel better.

  They pulled up to Lisa’s restaurant, the Crazy Chefette. As they walked in, the scent of garlic and cinnamon hit them. The place was surprisingly empty. The rain must have kept some of the crowds at home today.

  Ty and Cassidy found a corner table and grabbed it while they waited for Skye. They ordered glasses of water to hold them over until their friend showed up.

  Cassidy glanced behind her and saw Mac sitting at the counter area—his usual place—talking to his friends and telling his stories. The man liked to have an audience, and he always seemed to find one here.

  When he spotted them, he wandered their way and slid in beside Cassidy.

  “Anything new?” Mac asked, volleying his gaze between the two of them.

  “Not really,” Ty said. “Just dead-ends. You?”

  “My friend got back to me with the information on the man renting the house,” he said. “But I already ran a check on him. Buddy Macklemore doesn’t exist—not legally, at least. His name is fake, and so is his home address and social security number even. So that lead didn’t get us anywhere.”

  “Good to know,” Cassidy said.

  “The scanners were abuzz this morning with some kind of update that the chief had to rush back to the station to hear about.”

  “What was it?” Ty asked.

  “They didn’t say, and I haven’t been able to get it out of anyone. I also talked to Bower Wilson, the man who told Skye about Buddy’s spy.”

  Cassidy perked. “Did he say anything?”

  “No, just that apparently he was the spy,” Mac said. “Buddy gave him a whole basket of free fruit and vegetables for the information. It seemed like a shady business practice, but nothing that would indicate trouble.”

  Cassidy’s gaze crossed the restaurant. One of the Lantern Beach police officers had just come in and taken a seat on the other side of the dining area.

  “Maybe you can get some information from him,” she muttered.

  Mac pointed to himself. “Me? No, he won’t tell me anything. But he might talk to you.”

  “What do you mean?” Cassidy asked.

  “He loves pretty blondes, and he’s known to have loose lips. You should give it a try.”

  “I’d hate myself if I did,” she muttered. Not that she was above it. She’d used her new blonde status to butter up people in the past, but she never liked herself much afterward.

  “You’re our best hope,” Ty said.

  She did a double take, surprised that Mr. Always-Virtuous-Except-When-It-Came-to-His-Family wanted to go along with this. “I thought for sure you’d disapprove of those methods.”

  “One thing I learned as a SEAL was that, in battle, you have to identify weaknesses in your enemy’s defense. I’m not saying Officer Quinton is an enemy. But I am saying he’s a weakness. And a weak spot is always the first place you look when breeching.”

  Cassidy kind of liked the Navy SEAL talk. She’d worked with a lot of tough guys, but there was something about Ty that was different—more rugged and confident.

  With a sigh, she stood. “I’ll do it. But I don’t have any hopes that this will work.”

  Chapter 12<
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  Cassidy stood, straightened her outfit, and threw her blonde hair over her shoulder. With one last look back at Ty and Mac—who each gave her a thumbs-up—she strode toward the officer.

  Tall and gangly Officer Quinton had been the one to give her access to some crime-scene evidence a few weeks ago. Getting him to do so hadn’t been that hard. Whether she liked it or not, Cassidy was going to find out if that was a fluke or a pattern.

  She slid across from him and offered a bright smile. This was so not like her. She’d never been the type to flirt or to care about being popular or getting attention. No, she’d been dedicated to her studies. She’d been immersed in piano practice and Spanish lessons and advanced academic classes.

  All things she’d done to make her parents proud. And none of them had ever been enough. Trying to please them was a lesson in futility.

  Had they even noticed Cassidy’s absence? Did they care?

  The fact that she had to ask herself those questions was a sad testament within itself.

  Officer Quinton’s eyes brightened when he saw her. “Well, hey you. It’s been a while.”

  “I was hoping we might run into each other again,” she started, wanting to puke a little in her mouth.

  He grinned, totally buying her story. He leaned back, a new look of confidence sweeping over him—despite the ketchup on his chin. “What’s been going on?”

  “I was so impressed with the way you and the chief solved that murder on the island earlier this month. Good work.” She lowered her voice until she sounded demure and nearly purred.

  He beamed with pride. “Thank you.”

  They hadn’t solved that mystery at all. Cassidy had handed the chief all of the answers. She didn’t bring that up, however. She didn’t need the recognition.

  “I heard there might have been another murder,” she ventured, tilting her head.

  She could feel Ty and Mac watching them, and she cringed. She didn’t love having an audience, but shooing them would draw too much attention. She only hoped they weren’t enjoying this too much.

  Quinton’s chest puffed out, and he took another bite of his burger. He didn’t seem to notice—or care—that she had nothing to eat or drink. “Maybe. We don’t know yet. But there’s definitely some weird stuff going on.”