“I mean, I don’t keep track of inventory or anything, but you don’t usually leave things open and wrappers on the floor.” Serena scooted back far enough for Cassidy to see the mess in the back of the truck.
Cassidy stuck her head through the door. Sure enough, someone had raided the truck last night. Wrappers were strewn on the floor, brown and white blobs had melted on the small countertop, and a couple of water bottles had been crushed and left behind as well.
Even though Cassidy had secured Elsa last night, it wouldn’t surprise her if the locks had suddenly failed, thus allowing some local kids to stock up on free treats. This truck was one malfunction after another.
“How much is gone?” Cassidy craned her neck, trying to see inside the freezer.
Serena peered inside the glass top. “It’s hard to say. But there’s definitely stuff missing, especially the drinks and chips we just started selling.”
That had been Serena’s idea, and the products had been a surprising hit with beachgoers who wanted refreshments other than ice cream after the beach. With no chain grocery stores or fast food restaurants on the island, treats were at a premium—especially ones conveniently obtained.
“I guess I’ll need to keep an eye on this in the future,” Cassidy said with a frown. She wouldn’t report this to the police. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than necessary.
But if someone had been down here, why hadn’t Cassidy heard anything? She almost always slept with one eye and ear open. When there was a million-dollar bounty on your head, you never fully relaxed.
And wouldn’t Kujo have heard something and alerted her?
Cassidy shrugged it off. Maybe she’d been especially tired last night. She had played volleyball with some friends until almost nine o’clock. And the sun had been scorching, which exhausted Cassidy more than she wanted to admit.
“I’ll do my best to sell what’s left. See you in a few hours!” Serena waved as she pulled away, ready to begin the morning route.
As Cassidy paused on her driveway, Kujo began barking at her incessantly.
“What is it, boy?” Cassidy asked.
He continued to bark, something obviously on his mind.
Cassidy leaned down and lowered her voice. “Did little Timmy fall down a well?”
He barked again.
Cassidy’s eyes went to Ty’s place. Did Kujo know his owner was home? Did the dog sense Ty’s presence?
A growing sense of unease brewed in her stomach. Why wouldn’t Ty have told her he was home? Or what if he wasn’t home? What if someone had broken into his place and been dumb enough to turn a light on?
She patted the golden retriever’s head, her mind made up. “Okay, boy. Let’s go check it out.”
She climbed the steps to Ty’s place. She’d make sure everything was okay and then resume her day as planned. No harm in that, right?
Kujo’s barking became more incessant when they reached Ty’s door.
Dogs could sense things. What was Kujo’s intuition telling him now?
Cassidy checked the lock. The door didn’t budge.
Cupping her hands around her eyes, she peered through one of the glass panes on the top half of the door.
Her gaze hit the kitchen first. It looked fine. Then the dining room. Also fine.
She scanned over into the living area, ready to give up and mark this as a fluke.
But what she saw made her pause.
Were those legs?
On the floor?
She darted to another window for a better look, Kujo’s barks urging her to continue—quickly.
Shading her eyes against the glare of the sun, Ty’s living area came into view.
Yes, those were legs. Feet.
Ty’s legs and feet.
He was sprawled on the floor, not moving.
Chapter 3
Panic surged through Cassidy. She had to get to Ty. Now.
Kujo’s barks came more rapidly, followed by a howl that made her shiver. Certainly that sound didn’t mean . . . no, it meant nothing. Only distress.
“I know, I know. I hear you, boy,” she murmured.
She glanced around and found a block of wood Ty had been using for one of his whittling projects. She rammed it into a panel above the doorknob.
The glass shattered.
She stripped off her button-up shirt—she wore a tank top underneath—and wrapped the shirt around her hand. Carefully—but quickly—she broke the remaining glass from around the windowpane.
Reaching inside, she unlocked the door and opened it. As soon as she did, Kujo rushed ahead of her, reaching his owner and licking his face.
Cassidy dashed behind Kujo toward Ty and knelt beside him. Her hand went to his neck, searching for a pulse. She held her breath until she felt a rapid thump, thump.
It was there.
But it was fast. Too fast.
Cassidy grabbed her cell phone from her back pocket and called 911. Ty needed more help than she could give him, and he needed it now.
After dispatch assured her help was on the way, Cassidy leaned down. “Ty? Can you hear me?”
He let out a low moan.
Her hand went to Ty’s forehead. He was burning up. Sweat covered his forehead. His skin looked sickly and pale.
Cassidy scanned the length of him, noting the white T-shirt he wore. His favorite jeans. Her eyes stopping on the bandage at his shoulder.
Bandage?
What . . . what in the world had happened to him?
She patted his cheek, desperate to keep him lucid. “Ty, can you hear me? Can you say something?”
Again, he moaned, and his eyes remained closed.
Dear Lord. I know we’re kind of new at this talking thing—really new, actually— but . . . please help him.
In the short time Cassidy had known Ty, he’d come to mean a lot to her. And she was so used to seeing him strong and tough, just like the Navy SEAL he’d been. This side of him . . . it unnerved her.
The ambulance had to get here in time. Please . . .
“Ty, you’re going to be okay,” she whispered, resting a hand against his scruffy cheek and jaw. “I need someone to aggravate. You can’t leave me.”
At once, his eyes popped open. But the look emanating from his gaze was halfway crazed and totally out of it. His hand darted toward hers.
“Cassidy . . .” he mumbled. His grip on her hand tightened with enough strength that Cassidy squirmed.
She leaned closer, her throat clenched so tightly she could hardly breathe. “I’m here, Ty. Help is on the way.”
“Cassidy . . .” His chest rose and fell in a labored motion—like it took too much effort.
Her throat tightened even more. What had happened to him? How long had he been like this?
“Cassidy . . .” he whispered. “I . . . I love you.”
Her eyes widened. The man was definitely delusional and not in his right mind. Sure, they had kissed. And he had kissed her like he meant it, for that matter. Her toes had even curled.
But they were nowhere close to being in love.
“Now you’re talking crazy,” she whispered, thankful to hear the distant cry of sirens.
He shook his head, his eyes gaining a strange focus. “Crazy . . . for you.”
His fever had made him lose all common sense. Just wait until he got better, and Cassidy could give him a hard time about this.
Because he was going to get better . . . right?
“Well, you’re crazy all right.” Moisture filled Cassidy’s eyes. “You have a lot of explaining to do when you get better, Tyson Dylan Chambers. You told me you were going out of town to do something for Hope House. The pieces aren’t fitting together right now.”
Hope House was the retreat center he was trying to start for veterans dealing with PTSD.
His eyes closed again, causing her heart to hitch. No! He needed to stay alert.
She patted his cheek again. “Ty, stay with me. Help is on the wa
y.” The sirens were louder. Closer. Almost here.
“I . . .” His voice faded. His eyes fluttered open and then closed again.
Someone knocked at the door behind her. “Paramedics.”
They burst through the door, prodded Cassidy out of the way, and took over.
But Cassidy felt like a piece of her heart had been left with Ty.
A desperate piece.
What if Ty didn’t make it out of this alive?
The thought was too much to handle.
Cassidy sat in a stiff chair in the waiting area of the island’s one and only medical clinic. The place was small—smaller than her doctor’s office back in Seattle. If she understood correctly, the staff here could accept a limited number of overnight patients, and they had a triage area for minor emergencies.
The next closest hospital would be up in Nags Head, but someone would have to take two ferries to get there, not to mention the sixty-mile drive afterward. With one doctor and three nurses, this was sufficient for anything non-life-threatening.
The place wasn’t anything fancy, and everything was outdated by at least twenty years. That seemed to be a theme here on the island. The waiting area had been decorated with some red, white, and blue tinsel strung up near the ceiling. Little American flag gels, mixed with some stars, were placed haphazardly on the windows behind her.
But none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was Ty.
As the paramedics had worked on him, Cassidy spotted a bottle of pain pills and a sling on the table beside his couch. By all appearances, he had been to the doctor. Had he had a procedure of some sort? Surgery?
Cassidy sighed and leaned back in her chair. As a detective, she’d been in waiting rooms many times before. But waiting for a status update on someone she cared about . . . it was just painful. Each minute felt like an hour.
Her phone buzzed. She looked down and saw she’d gotten a text from Ty’s mom, Del. The woman texted Cassidy at least a few times a week.
Day one of chemo. Pray for me.
Cassidy closed her eyes. Chemo.
This was Del’s third battle with cancer. They’d been hoping for a better report, but they hadn’t gotten one.
Cassidy had known the woman only a few short weeks, but Del had made her feel like one of the family. And there was a lot to be said for that.
Should she tell Del about Ty?
No, she decided. Until Cassidy knew for sure what was going on, there was no need to stress Del out any more than necessary. Instead she typed:
You’re in my prayers. Always.
She glanced up as someone walked into the waiting area. Austin Brooks, one of Ty’s best friends, was here.
The man worked construction and looked like he could have stepped from the screen of any home improvement TV show with his wavy dark hair and fit build. Cassidy hadn’t called the whole gang, a hodgepodge of people who had met at Bible study. Only Austin, since Ty seemed closest to him.
Austin sat beside Cassidy, tension radiating from him as well as the faint scent of sawdust. “Thanks for letting me know what happened. Any updates?”
Cassidy shook her head. “No, I haven’t heard anything yet. I may need you to fix his front door. I had to break out a piece of glass to get inside.”
Maybe it was an odd time to mention it, but the subject seemed safe and the answer certain. Certainty was a comfort at the moment.
“I’d be happy to fix that,” Austin said. “Do you have any idea what exactly is wrong with Ty?”
“No clue. Kujo just kept barking at his house this morning, so I went to check it out. That’s when I found him.”
The memory felt surreal and caused Cassidy to flinch as a dull, achy pain filled her chest cavity.
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell us he was back.” Austin ran a hand through his hair. “I wonder who even gave him a ride here.”
Cassidy straightened. There was more to this story than she realized—more than Ty had shared with her. “What happened to his shoulder, Austin?”
“He had surgery.”
Cassidy shook her head quickly, uncertain if she’d heard correctly. “Wait . . . he told you he was having surgery?”
Austin turned to look at her, wrinkles of confusion at the edges of his eyes. “I thought you knew.”
“No, Ty told me he was out of town, doing some stuff for Hope House. He never mentioned anything about surgery.”
Austin frowned, leaning forward with his elbows propped on his legs. “Yeah, sorry. I’m not really sure why he’d keep it quiet. He had shoulder surgery and then went to rehab for several days. Said it was no big deal. I gave him a ride to the hospital in Raleigh. I figured he’d call me when he was ready to come home.”
An uncertain emotion roiled in Cassidy’s stomach. Why would Ty keep this from her? It made no sense. They were . . . friends. Ty had said he wanted to be even more. So why . . .
“Sorry,” Austin said again. “He hasn’t been acting like himself the past few weeks. I figured between the news about his mom’s cancer and the fact that he hasn’t been raising the funding for his project like he hoped, he was just in a funk.”
“It would make sense.” Cassidy had thought she was the one who’d put up walls. This whole time Ty had obviously been putting up barriers himself.
Guilt pounded at her. It was a familiar emotion lately, and one she didn’t like.
“What kind of surgery?” Cassidy asked.
“Shoulder. Bone spur, I think. Maybe an impingement? He wasn’t exactly clear. Either way, it was an old injury from his days as a SEAL. I guess he aggravated it a couple weeks back.”
Had that happened when he’d rescued Cassidy and Skye?
More guilt filled her.
“I heard the surgery went well,” Austin continued. “The doctor expected recovery time to be minimal. Ty even went to some special rehab therapy place for a few days. They’re supposed to whip you in shape in half the time.”
“Sounds unlikely . . . but great if it works.”
She glanced in the distance and saw a door open. Her heart quickened. Doc Clemson had stepped into the room. The man, who also served as the town’s medical examiner, had yellowish-orange hair and an easy laugh.
Except for now. Now he looked serious.
Cassidy stood, anxious to hear what he had to say, and met him halfway across the room. Austin followed.
“He’s going to be okay,” the doctor started.
The air whooshed from Cassidy’s lungs. Thank goodness.
“It’s going to take a while for the antibiotics to kick in,” Doc Clemson continued. “It looks like an infection set in at the site of his surgery. It’s a good thing you found him when you did because his fever was dangerously high. It must have developed overnight. This could have easily turned into sepsis.”
At least she could be thankful for that.
“Can we see him?” Austin stood beside Cassidy, his hands on his hips.
“Not yet. He needs to rest, and we gave him a sedative to help him do so. But I’ll have my nurse call you when he wakes up.”
“He’s . . . he’s going to be okay?” Cassidy hated how weak the inquiry made her sound. And the doctor had already answered that question. She just needed to hear it again.
“It looks like he’s going to be fine, but we’re going to monitor him. He should be okay here at the clinic. If anything changes, we’ll take him to the hospital up in Nags Head. I’ve already talked to his surgeon, and we’re both on the same page.”
Cassidy pointed behind her. “Maybe I should just wait . . .”
“There’s no need,” Doc Clemson said, his frown larger than the average person’s as his sagging skin folded around it. “The island is small. I’ll call you when it’s time, and you can be here in ten minutes. You’re just going to go crazy if you sit around here. Our snack machine is even broken, so you’ll go hungry too. And the coffee can easily be mistaken for toilet water.”
“He’s right
,” Austin said. “Ty is going to be so doped up, he’s not going to know what’s going on. He wouldn’t want us to see him like that.”
Except she already had, and Ty had told Cassidy he loved her. Certainly he hadn’t meant the words.
Cassidy knew he didn’t. Then why had hearing him utter the phrase brought her a burst of joy?
Reluctantly, Cassidy nodded in agreement with Austin and the doc. Maybe she’d go see if the raft had been hauled away yet. By the time she did that, maybe Ty would be awake, and he could clear up some things for her.
She could hope. She could pray. As a matter of fact, she’d do both.
Chapter 4
Cassidy gathered her thoughts in the privacy of her car as she sat outside the clinic.
She pulled out her phone and found a picture Del had sent her—a picture she’d taken of Cassidy and Ty faking a kiss. Well, the kiss had been real. But their relationship hadn’t. Long story.
Still, Cassidy couldn’t bring herself to delete the photo. It was not only beautiful with the sunset smearing the sky around them with lovely shades of pastel blues, oranges, and pinks. But seeing her and Ty smiling with their arms around each other still made Cassidy feel warm and gooey inside.
Ty Chambers did something to her that no one else ever had. She’d had plenty of boyfriends before. She’d dated plenty of guys. But never anyone like Ty, someone who was masculine yet kind. Who was tough but generous. Who was brave but honorable.
Seeing him like she had today . . . it shook her to the core. She hadn’t, until this moment, realized just how deeply she cared for him.
But that didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything—anything except that she’d found a friend in him. To ask for anything beyond that would be irrational, especially since she was on borrowed time here.
Her phone beeped in her purse.
Her secret phone.
She quickly found it. There were only two people who could call her on this number—and that meant she needed to answer pronto because both signified something important had happened.
Her heart slowed a bit when she saw Samuel Stephens’s name there. “What’s going on?”
Lantern Beach Mysteries Box Set Page 38
