Lantern Beach Mysteries Box Set

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Lantern Beach Mysteries Box Set Page 39

by Christy Barritt


  “Good day to you too.” His deep but dry voice sounded comfortingly familiar. “But you have the right idea. We should skip the pleasantries. Someone else is dead.”

  Her head pounded at his words. “What do you mean?”

  “A woman in Dallas. She looked like you. Like the old you. Authorities believe that a member of DH-7 is behind the crime, and that this person thought they’d found you.”

  Her head pounded harder. A million-dollar bounty on Cassidy’s head gave people a lot of incentive—incentive for murder.

  But someone else had already died—a woman in San Diego. The gang had made it clear they were out for Cassidy’s blood and that innocent lives would be collateral damage—without apology.

  “Oh, Samuel . . .” She squeezed the skin between her eyes and let the AC blow on her cheeks.

  “We’re working on it,” he said. “I didn’t want you to find out online. That’s why I called to tell you myself. It’s not your fault, Cassidy.”

  “It feels like it is.” As did Ty’s latest injury and surgery.

  “I’m sure they’re hoping to shake you out by doing things like this.”

  He was right but . . . “Those poor women.”

  “Believe me, we’re all mourning what’s happened” He paused. “Listen, I don’t have much time. I also wanted to let you know that DBS News is hunting around for a story on this.”

  Cassidy’s guilt turned to alarm. A national news story on what had happened? That could only spell trouble.

  “The gang doesn’t need any publicity,” she said.

  “Of course, the media isn’t wording it as publicity, per se. They say they want to bring attention to the woman who bravely killed a notorious gang leader. This underground following of Commotio Cordis doesn’t help matters. People think of you as a superhero.”

  Commotio cordis was the medical term for what had happened when a person’s heart stopped after a hard impact. Cassidy had thrown a baseball at Raul’s chest, effectively—and unintentionally—killing him.

  “I never set out to be one.” Nor did she feel like one, for that matter.

  “I know that. But public interest is high. I’ve told all my guys not to speak to the press. But Ryan Samson seems to believe the publicity would be good.”

  Ryan? Cassidy’s breath caught when she heard his name. Before she’d come to Lantern Beach, she’d thought she was going to marry the man. Then he’d stopped returning her phone calls, and she’d had to break up with him via voicemail.

  It was so obvious now that the man didn’t care about her. Cassidy had been a fool to ever think so.

  “What did you tell him?” she asked.

  “I told him it was a bad idea. But he has a mind of his own, as I’m sure you know.”

  “All he’s concerned about is being elected as prosecuting attorney for King County.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me about that.” Samuel paused. “Stay safe, Cassidy. There are a lot of rumblings with DH-7.”

  “What kind?”

  “They’re desperate to find you and will stop at nothing. You only need to make it a few more months. I know you must feel alone out there.”

  The strange thing was that she didn’t. In fact, she felt more at home than ever here in Lantern Beach.

  Cassidy pulled up to her house a few minutes later, let Kujo out, and walked with him toward the beach.

  She leaned down and rubbed his ears. The dog knew something was wrong with Ty, didn’t he? He didn’t seem as perky as usual.

  “It’s going to be okay, buddy,” she murmured. “I promise.”

  He nuzzled against her hand in response.

  Her feet hit the sand, and she could feel the heat sizzling beneath her. The sand got scorching hot, especially on days like today when the temperature soared into the high 90s.

  She pulled off her long-sleeved shirt—she’d put it back on at the clinic—and tied it around her waist. Wearing a tank top beneath everything had become a way of life since she’d moved here. The AC inside businesses felt like a freezer and the heat outside like an oven, making for some challenges when it came to dressing. She’d learned layering was the best option.

  She paused just over the sand dune and scanned the shoreline. Numerous groups had set up for a day on the shore. Umbrellas and colorful towels lined the beach. However, the riptide kept people from the water, and the tumultuous storm surge stole half of the shoreline.

  But the raft was gone.

  Already.

  That was fast.

  She glanced at her watch.

  Or maybe not. She had been gone three hours already.

  “If it isn’t Jessica Fletcher meets Lara Croft,” a familiar voice sounded behind her.

  She turned and smiled at the friendly face approaching. “Hey, Mac. Fancy seeing you here.”

  Mac was the town’s former police chief. The man was spry with thinning white hair and a matching beard and mustache. He’d become one of Cassidy’s favorite people since she’d come here. He was always full of stories dotted with dry humor and had a commentary about life on Lantern Beach that was uniquely his own.

  He might be in his late sixties, but the man was sharp and constantly kept up his skills as a law enforcement officer.

  “I decided to come fishing,” he said, tugging at the floppy hat on his head, one that matched the vest across his chest.

  But there was one thing missing. “No fishing pole?”

  His eyes sparkled. “I knew I forgot something.”

  “You see the raft?”

  He shrugged and lowered himself atop the sand dune. “I hung out while they loaded the boat up and had it towed to the station. Then I heard about Ty. Thought I’d wait around till you got back and see what was going on.”

  Cassidy sat beside him, watching as Kujo chased off some seagulls, and she gave the former police chief the update.

  “Ty’s one stubborn man,” Mac said. “It’s what made him a good SEAL.”

  “I suppose.” Cassidy knew his words were true, but Ty’s stubbornness could have landed him in the hospital with something more serious—something deadly.

  Cassidy was thankful she’d stopped by when she had.

  Mac squeezed her shoulder and gave her a little shake. “He’s tough, Cassidy. He’ll come through this.”

  Cassidy didn’t realize that how much this scare had shaken her was so obvious. She pulled back her emotions and let out a sigh. Getting close to the people here was not a part of her plan.

  But it was like she’d been telling herself—she wasn’t the same person now as she’d been before she came here. Her time undercover had changed her. She hoped it was for the best.

  She straightened, realizing she was being entirely too transparent. In her current situation, transparency was dangerous. “Thanks, Mac. Now, about that raft. Any updates, other than the fact they had it was towed to the police station?”

  “The Coast Guard will probably check it out.”

  “And then what?”

  He shrugged, staring at the ocean and throwing some broken shells from the dune closer to the water. “My guess? They’ll probably dispose of it.”

  “Really? That seems . . . I don’t know. Like it’s not very thorough.”

  “I suppose there’s no crime in making a raft and setting adrift.”

  “But there’s a story there.”

  “Oh, I know that. But we’ll probably never figure out who was in that raft. We have no clue if they’re in this area. They could have been tossed overboard. They could have swam to shore thirty miles south of here. And without any evidence of a crime . . .”

  “There was a bloody cloth inside . . .” Cassidy reminded him.

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Was there? Now, that’s the first I’ve heard of that.”

  A sound in the distance caught Cassidy’s ear. Elsa. She’d recognize those electronic chimes anywhere. Serena must be hitting the area near here now.

  Cassidy abs
ently brushed some sand from her legs. “The chief seemed to indicate that there was a clear Cuba connection.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  Cassidy tried to temper her words. “Not that I know anything about this. But . . .”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  Kujo wandered back over, and Cassidy gave him another head rub. “Well, everything inside the raft looked American. I would expect if the occupants had departed from Cuba that the food items I saw would have Spanish labels.”

  “That, my dear, is an excellent point. But the likelihood we’ll find answers? It’s not strong.”

  “I know that’s true. I just can’t help but think that whoever was onboard that raft . . . they were desperate. Really desperate.”

  Just then, her cell phone buzzed. It was the clinic. Cassidy sucked in a quick breath of anticipation.

  “I’ve got to take this,” she told Mac before putting the phone to her ear.

  “Ty’s awake, and he’s asking for you,” a nurse said.

  “I’ll be right there.” Cassidy turned back to Mac. “I need to go.”

  “Why don’t you let good old Kujo hang out with me for a while?” Mac said. “He looks like he could use some company too.”

  The dog did appear to be downcast since they’d found Ty. His gait didn’t seem as perky, nor did his pant. “That’s a great idea. You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. Maybe I could use the company too. Besides, I want to brush up on my canine training skills, and I think Kujo would be an excellent student for scouting out scents.”

  She stood and brushed the sand from her legs again, not even fazed by Mac’s “training” anymore. She’d already seen him rappelling down the side of his house and trying to defuse a fake bomb. Nothing wrong with someone trying to keep their skill set fresh.

  “Thanks, Mac.”

  “It’s no problem. Keep me updated.”

  “I will.” Cassidy rushed to her car and headed back to the clinic.

  Chapter 5

  Cassidy arrived at the clinic ten minutes later, just as Doc Clemson had predicted, and rushed inside.

  A pleasant nurse behind the front desk smiled at her. “Go on in.”

  Despite her hurry, Cassidy paused outside Ty’s door, trying to compose herself before she saw him. She shoved a hair behind her ear, drew in a deep breath, and finally stepped inside.

  All her composure disappeared when she spotted Ty in the hospital bed, an IV dripping beside him, and an ugly green hospital gown draped over his broad chest. His dark hair usually had a messy vibe to it, but right now it looked flat, and his normally sun-kissed skin was still pale. Even though he was awake, his eyes still looked hazy and glazed.

  She strode toward him, pausing by his bed to take his hand. A faint smile crossed his lips, gone just as quickly as it appeared.

  “Hey,” he muttered.

  “You gave me a good scare.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She swallowed back the lump of emotions in her throat. She preferred Ty strong and healthy, but she was so immensely happy he was okay. “How are you?”

  “Been better.” His eyelids drooped, and Cassidy would bet he was on pain medication in addition to the antibiotics.

  She wanted to fuss at him. Desperately wanted to give him a piece of her mind for keeping secrets. For not trusting her. For being so foolish.

  Then again, who was she to talk?

  “Hey.” Ty squeezed her hand.

  Cassidy drew her eyes up to his, realizing she’d disappeared for a moment into a sea of self-doubt. “Yes?”

  “Thank you.” His voice cracked, and he licked his lips.

  She grabbed the cup of water from a tray beside her and raised it to his mouth. He took a sip, and Cassidy set it back on the tray.

  “What did the doctor say?” Cassidy sat in a metal chair by the bed, after pulling it even closer. Her pulse quickened as she waited for his answer. Even though she’d already talked to Doc Clemson, part of her feared an update she hadn’t seen coming.

  “That I’ll be okay. I’ll have to stay for a few days so he can monitor me. It was either that, or he was going to send me back to Raleigh.”

  Cassidy stared at Ty a minute, stared at the perfect lines on his face. Not perfect because he was picture perfect—though he was close—but perfect because the man was becoming a fixture in her life. Perfect because she’d stared into those eyes and felt waves of comfort come over her. Because those lips had assured her of protection and help, and he hadn’t let her down. That was something Cassidy couldn’t say about many people.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Ty?” Her voice sounded hoarse. “I could have helped.”

  He shrugged, his head falling to the side as if all his energy was gone. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “I’m your friend. It wouldn’t have been a bother. I know Austin feels the same way, and I’d imagine the rest of the gang does also.”

  Ty pressed his lips together, as if formulating his words. “I suppose that sometimes I have more pride than I should. I thought I could handle it all and that I didn’t have to worry or inconvenience anyone. I guess I was wrong.”

  He was always so busy worrying about others . . . it was one more thing to love and hate about him.

  She shifted into teasing mode, sensing Ty’s exhaustion and not wanting to wear him out with her questions, which could easily turn into something resembling an interrogation.

  “Well, if you pull another stunt like this while I’m here in town, I’ll make it a point to only feed you ice cream from Elsa while you’re in recovery,” she said. “Mark my words.”

  “You’ll fully embrace being Nurse Ratched, huh?” He chuckled but it faded quickly. “I’ll keep that in mind. Might be good incentive.”

  “I thought so.”

  Ty’s probing gaze latched onto hers. “While you’re in town?”

  Cassidy’s heart had squeezed when those words had left her lips. “The original plan was to stay only a few months.”

  “And is that still the plan?”

  Her heart pounded in her ears. How did she answer that? She had to go back for the trial. And after that, she planned to resume her old life as a Seattle detective.

  Why was she reluctant to be all-in with that plan now? Certainly, she couldn’t consider staying here in Lantern Beach. What would she do? It wasn’t like the police department was hiring—or that she’d want to work with Bozeman. But those were questions for another day.

  “I’m just taking it day by day.” Her words caught in her throat, nearly causing her to choke.

  “I see.” After a moment of silence, Ty cleared his throat. “How’s Kujo?”

  “Mac is watching him right now. I think he’s worried about you.”

  “Mac or Kujo?”

  “Well, probably both. But I was talking about the dog.” She squeezed Ty’s hand again, noting how it was thick and almost twice as large as hers. Calluses from all the projects he worked on—carpentry and fishing, for starters—roughened his skin. Funny how a person’s hands could say so much about a person.

  “Would you mind keeping him for a few more days? Or would you ask Mac if he could?”

  “Not at all.” As Cassidy looked at Ty, an irresistible urge hit her—the urge to reach up and caress his face. To kiss his knuckles. To take care of him.

  None of which were things she should do.

  Someone knocked at the door. A nurse.

  “I need to check vitals,” she said. “If you could give us a minute.”

  Cassidy nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”

  As Cassidy sat in the waiting room once again, she opened the camera on her phone and stared at the pictures of the raft. Just as when she’d seen it the first time in real life, her heart lurched at the shoddy construction of the vessel.

  Someone had duct-taped Styrofoam to metal. Covered it all in a tarp with more duct tape. Then they’d trusted that contraption out in open water
s, where waves could tower over them and where sharks searched for their next meal.

  She turned her head, letting her thoughts run freely as a realization begged for her attention. Wait . . . was the whole thing made out of a bed frame? It was the right size and shape . . .

  Cassidy closed her eyes and imagined being in the Atlantic Ocean, riding out the waves and the storms in one of these. The sun would have been scorching. The waves tumultuous. There was no motor to steer the raft, so the occupants would have to drift, praying they’d make landfall in one piece.

  Desperation. Again, the word slammed into her mind. Nobody would get into one of these if they weren’t desperate.

  Perhaps that was why Cassidy couldn’t stop thinking about that raft and its former occupants.

  Mac might be right. They might never know what happened to the people who’d constructed the vessel. But that didn’t mean Cassidy was going to drop this. Not yet, at least.

  “Can I sit here?” someone asked.

  “Of course.” Cassidy glanced up and saw a young woman, probably in her late teens, standing there, gripping her arm. She looked slightly familiar, but it took a moment to place her. “You work at the Crazy Chefette.”

  The Crazy Chefette was a restaurant Cassidy’s friend Lisa owned.

  The woman nodded, her stringy hair falling into her face. “I do. I’m Melissa. I accidentally fell and caught myself on a hot burner in my apartment. I burned the side of my arm.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Not as sorry as me. I’m getting together with this guy I’ve been talking to for the past three months. First time we’ll meet face to face. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

  “A little bandage shouldn’t change anything.”

  She frowned. “I hope not.”

  “And, if it does, then maybe he’s not the guy for you.” Oops. Cassidy hadn’t meant to offer unsolicited advice. The warning had slipped out before she could stop it.

  “You’re probably right. I just don’t want to lose him. He’s . . . well, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

 

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