by Lena Gregory
“Nah, and not for lack of trying.”
“I noticed that. Hang on a minute, I have an idea.” She ran back to the desk and opened the center drawer. Three pads with the hotel’s logo, address, and phone number embossed on the top sat side by side. With no way of knowing which one Bruce had used, and desperate to find a way to clear Emmett’s name, Cass ripped the top sheet off each pad and stuffed them into her purse’s front pocket, careful nothing would crease or dent them. With any luck at all, she’d be able to figure out what Bruce Brinkman was up to.
“What are you doing?” Bee asked.
“Shh . . .” She grabbed Bee’s elbow and urged him toward the door. “I’ll explain when we get outside.”
Bee followed along without arguing. “Hey. Is that Stephanie?”
“Where?” Cass slowed.
“In the second office on the left.”
Stephanie sat at a conference table in one of the private offices she often rented at the hotel when she had a client she didn’t want to meet with at her home office and who didn’t own a shop on Bay Island.
She sat with her hands folded on the table while a paunchy man in a full suit, despite the almost hundred-degree heat, paced behind her twisting a ring around his pinky.
Cass and Bee angled themselves toward the door, trying to appear casual.
When Stephanie spotted them, she glanced sideways at the man without turning her head, then rolled her eyes.
Cass frowned at her.
Stephanie gave one discreet shake of her head, a warning not to interfere.
The man turned and started another circuit behind Stephanie, then marched to the door and slammed it shut.
Apparently Cass and Bee were not as stealthy as they thought.
“Well, I never,” Bee huffed.
“Do you think that’s her new client?”
“She didn’t say anything about meeting with him today, only Friday, but she did say he might come to Bay Island. Maybe he moved the meeting up.”
Cass bit her lip, unsure what to do. “Do you think she’s all right?”
“She seemed to be.” Bee propped his hands on his hips and stared at the door, then started forward. “But we can check.”
Cass grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”
“What? I was going to knock first.”
“You can’t barge in there while she’s working.”
He scowled. “Why not?”
“Bee, how would you like it if you were meeting with a client and Stephanie and I came bursting in?”
He grinned. “It would be interesting.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Oh, all right. I see your point.” He slid to the side of the closed door, then peeked into the narrow window beside it. He waited until the man turned his back, then shot Stephanie a thumbs-up.
She glanced at the man’s back, then returned the gesture.
Satisfied Stephanie was okay, they headed out to the parking lot.
Though she scanned the lot as they hurried to Bee’s car, Cass found no sign of Bruce Brinkman. Wherever he’d disappeared to, Cass had no hope of following him. Not that she would have. Probably. But the choice was out of her hands.
“It’s probably for the best, anyway,” Bee said.
“Huh? What is?”
“The fact Bruce disappeared before you could follow him.”
“How did you know—”
“Oh, please, I don’t have to be psychic, or even particularly observant, to see you looking for him, or to notice the look of disappointment when you didn’t find him.”
“That transparent, huh?” She laughed.
“More transparent than those ghosts you’re always claiming you don’t actually talk to.”
“Touché.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Bee opened the car door for her, then went around to the driver’s side.
She slid in, grabbed the seat belt buckle, burnt her hand and yanked it back. She should have known better with the sun beating down so hard.
“You all right?” Bee started the car and blasted the air-conditioning.
Cass sulked and rubbed her fingers. “Your car burned me.”
He caressed the dashboard. “She must think you brought spirits with you.”
She huffed out a breath. Bee’s constant references to her haunting his car in some way were beginning to grate on her nerves. She turned, ready to lay into him.
“Touchy, touchy. Don’t worry, I’m just funnin’ with ya.” He winked. “This time.”
Bee headed out of the parking lot. “I should have taken the T-tops off. Do you want me to stop and do it now? It’s a gorgeous day.”
“Sure.” A ride along the beach road with the wind whipping around her might be just what she needed to clear her head.
He pulled over in the empty lot at Emmett’s garage, got out, and popped the trunk, then grabbed the pouches the T-tops would slide into.
The car Dirk had been found in had been removed, though all of the other cars Emmett had lined on the lot still remained. A Closed sign hung crookedly in the garage’s front window.
Cass climbed out of the car and started across the lot.
“Hey.” Bee stood beside the car, one hand on his hip. “Where are you going? I’m almost done here.”
“I’ll be right back. I just want to have a look around.” She ignored his token protest and took a deep breath of the salty air. She only wasted a moment staring at the empty garage, which had already begun to feel abandoned. Emmett must not have gone back to work yet. Maybe the police hadn’t allowed him to open. If the yellow crime scene tape hanging limp in the still air was any indication, they still considered the garage a crime scene.
By all accounts, nothing had happened between Emmett and Dirk inside the garage, so there wasn’t likely to be anything in there to help her. Besides, the doors had to be locked, and Bee would undoubtedly offer more than a token protest if she tried to break in. She refocused her attention, homing in on the spot where Dirk had been found.
Windblown sand grated beneath her feet as she circled the empty parking spot. Obviously Emmett hadn’t swept the lot since his arrest. Cass paused. Even if some of the sand had been blown onto the lot after the murder, some sign of bloodstains should have remained visible. She walked around the spot again, more slowly, then crouched where she estimated the crime scene tech had stood the night of the murder. Nothing, not even a mark on the blacktop or a disruption in the piles of sand that had settled in the crevices.
Cass closed her eyes. The softest of breezes rippled her hair. Seagulls screamed. A foghorn sounded in the distance. Footsteps intruded on her concentration. Probably Bee. If not, he’d have yelled a warning or stopped whomever it was from sneaking up on her. She pushed the sound away, unwilling to lose an opportunity to open herself fully without the vulnerability of being alone.
Where could the killer have come from that wouldn’t have shown up on the cameras? She opened her eyes and turned in a circle. The cameras had a view of the road, and no cars had passed, so she dismissed that direction. Even someone walking would have shown up on the video. The garage took up the other side of the lot. That left two directions. One led into the thick stand of woods lining the road for several miles, the other through the woods to the shoreline.
Clearing her mind, Cass started walking. She didn’t consciously choose a direction, simply started walking whatever way felt right. She stepped into the woods, careful to avoid a pricker bush. Unlikely a killer would have entered the lot through that spot, especially at night when he wouldn’t have seen the prickers. She studied the bush, searching for any clue someone had passed through—blood, a scrap of fabric, trampled or broken vines. Nothing. If there had ever been any, the police had already removed them.
She pushed deeper into the woods, trudging through the thick undergrowth. Fear skittered across the back of her neck, raising goose bumps despite the suffocating heat. Movement in her peripheral vision. She gasped and
whirled toward it.
A squirrel jumped from the trunk of a tree beside her, chased by another, and ran up the next tree it came to.
Cass pressed a hand against her chest, willing her heart back under control, but the feeling of being watched didn’t abate. She paused and turned in a circle, searching for any sign of an intruder.
Bee stood scanning the area, far enough away to give her privacy, close enough to keep an eye on her and intervene if she needed help. Had his presence caused the sensation?
Sunlight poured through the trees, a soft breeze off the bay rippling the leaves, sending dappled shadows skittering throughout the area. Would the motion be enough to hide someone, conceal them in the shadows? The moon had been near full the night of the murder, and moonlight would have caused the same effect. Could it have provided cover for a killer’s retreat?
Something’s here. She could sense it, feel it deep in her gut. But what? Had the police already found whatever it was? Though she hadn’t searched the entire lot, and it was still possible Dirk had been killed at Emmett’s, he hadn’t been killed beside the car he was found in. Could he have been killed in the woods and taken back to the lot? But what would he have been doing in the woods?
She pressed forward. A fallen tree, caught and suspended by another, blocked her path. Probably not safe to go under, but she couldn’t climb over it, either. Around then. She skirted the tree. Prickers scratched her legs. Shorts probably weren’t the best attire for traipsing through the woods. The detour forced her to change direction, angling more toward the beach.
Hiking through the woods for only a few minutes in broad daylight had been difficult. It would have been near impossible to do so at night, even with the light from the moon. She inched forward, crept toward the edge of the woods.
Beach grass encroached, pushing out some of the thicker vegetation, and the dense trees and underbrush opened up to the empty shoreline. Though Bay Island boasted miles and miles of shoreline, not all of it was suited for beachgoers. Algae-covered sand, spotted with thick patches of wet seaweed, led the way to sharp, jagged rocks where the beach met the bay. A beautiful spot to walk, if you brought a beach chair with you in case you wanted to sit down. Which was easy enough, since they made chairs that folded up and slid into a bag you could sling over your shoulder. Cass had done it herself numerous times when she’d wanted some space.
But would a killer have come this way? Maybe. If it hadn’t been high tide, when the water would have risen past the edge of the sand and into the trees.
Sunlight glinted off a yacht anchored in the bay, and Cass shivered, the feeling of being watched blasting through her with a vengeance. She took a few steps back and turned around again, searching everywhere.
Bee stood at the edge of the woods, clearly visible, but she’d already known he’d be there, so he hadn’t elicited the fear stalking her.
The beach stood empty but for the seagulls foraging for whatever they might find. She turned and headed back to where Bee stood.
“Are you done now?” he asked.
She looked around one last time. “I guess, but something feels . . . I don’t know . . . off. You know?”
“I’m taking the fifth.” He turned and started back into the woods. “Let’s go. I left my car on the edge of Emmett’s lot with the tops off.”
Yikes. Bee never did something like that. Guilt tugged at her. “Sorry, Bee.”
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t have to follow you. It was my own choice.” He paused and looked around for a minute to get his bearings, then changed direction. “But now I need to get back, and so do you.”
No kidding. She’d left Beast alone at the shop way too long. With a new sense of urgency, she hurried back to the car.
As Bee started to pull out onto the road, he slowed. “Hey, is that Emmett?”
“Where?” Cass didn’t see him anywhere by the garage or in the parking lot.
“Right there. By the hotel.” He pointed. “Quick.”
Cass caught sight of a man through the chain-link fence surrounding the back of the hotel just as the service entrance door swung shut behind him. “I couldn’t tell. Are you sure it was Emmett?”
Bee inched forward, his gaze still on the hotel door. “How many other men do you know with long, crazy gray hair and a red baseball cap?”
Point taken. Emmett’s look was somewhat unique.
“Do you want me to swing around and park and see if he comes back out?”
As curious as she was about what Emmett might be doing sneaking into the hotel’s back entrance, she didn’t have time to sit around. She’d already been gone longer than she should have. “No, thanks, Bee, but if it’s okay with you, I just want to get back and get the shop open.”
“Sure thing.” He headed down the long stretch of road past Emmett’s.
Even though Emmett had been released on bail, the garage remained closed. If he didn’t open up soon, while tourists still flocked to Bay Island, he’d have an especially tough winter.
Bee flipped on the radio, the volume turned low. “You really should hire someone, you know.”
“We’ve been over this before.” And now wasn’t the time to rehash it.
“I know, but Tim is working out so well for me in the shop, I’m thinking of hiring someone full-time.”
“Really?” That surprised her. Bee had never talked about taking on help before.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been kind of nice not having to worry about what time I get there every day or if I want to run out for something.”
It would definitely be nice to be able to get a day off, or even a few hours off, without having to close. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’d trust anyone enough.”
“So, don’t hire a stranger. Hire someone you already know. You’re in the shop most of the time, anyway.”
Bee also generated a much larger income than Cass did. She’d be lucky to make it through the winter months as it was. Hiring someone might tip her into the black.
“Jess Ryan is graduating in June. Maybe she’d want to work in the shop next summer, just to help out until she goes off to college.”
“Is Jess going away to college?” As much as Cass had wanted to get off Bay Island when she’d left for college, she’d come to regret the decision all these years later. She could have had so much more time with her parents if she’d stayed and pursued her dream sooner. “Sara will be crushed.”
“I know. I was talking to Sara about it the other day, and she’s torn. As much as she wants to see Jess do everything she wants to do, she’d miss her terribly. She even mentioned relocating in passing.” Bee eased into a curve, and the trees parted to a view of the dark blue water of the bay.
“Oh, no. Emmett would be devastated.”
“Yeah, but his situation is kind of up in the air right now, so . . . uh . . .” Bee’s eyes went wide. “Not that I think he’s going to jail, and Sara certainly didn’t say any such thing, it’s just . . .”
“Don’t worry about it, Bee. I know what you meant.”
He nodded. “You do have to admit, it’s not looking too good.”
Cass shrugged. What could she say? He wasn’t wrong. “You can’t possibly think he did it?”
Bee squirmed beneath her gaze. “It’s not that I think he did it, but you weren’t that close to him that night. When I stepped between him and Dirk at the reading, well, let’s just say the anger in Emmett’s eyes surprised me. Before that, I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him, but now . . . I don’t know. I think maybe anyone can be pushed far enough to snap.”
“I thought you said Emmett didn’t have it in him to kill someone?”
“I did, and I don’t, not really. It’s just . . .” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “After going through the woods up there and finding out what’s on the video cameras, it’s hard to believe someone ghosted their way up there, killed Dirk, and disappeared, all without leaving any kind of evi
dence or getting caught on the cameras.”
How could he have changed his mind so fast? “Yeah, well, just remember how it felt to be on the receiving end of that kind of thinking.”
Bee clamped his mouth shut and stared straight ahead out the window.
Great. Now she’d hurt his feelings. “I’m sorry, Bee. I didn’t mean—”
“No. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.”
“Bee . . .”
He pulled into her driveway but didn’t shift into Park. “Don’t worry about it, Cass. It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you or dredge up bad feelings.”
He studied her for a moment. “It’s fine, Cass. Really. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
How could she have jumped down his throat like that just because he voiced a concern? “I’m your friend, Bee. You should be able to say anything to me without fear of judgment.”
“You’re right, and I can, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t call me out when you don’t agree with me.” He offered a tentative smile. “Besides, you’re right, I did say I didn’t think he had it in him, and I meant it.”
Cass leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now, shoo. Get back to the shop before the customers bang down the door or Beast eats something important, like your table.”
They both knew the second scenario was far more likely.
“I’ll see if Stephanie wants to join us and pick up lunch, then meet you there.”
She hadn’t liked leaving Stephanie with that client either. It didn’t sit right in her gut. Apparently, Bee suffered from the same apprehension. Cass climbed out of the car. No sense going inside, since Beast was at the shop, so she just fished her keys out of her bag and headed for her car.
“Hey,” Bee called out the window.
She stopped.
“Don’t you check those pages without me.”
