by Amber Crewes
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you in a few days, Jamie,” she asked, thinking back to her conversation with Otis the previous day. She remembered that Otis had seen Jamie running down the street on the night Chandler was murdered, and she was wondering why Jamie had been absent from town the last few days. “Where have you been?”
Jamie’s face flushed. “I just ain’t been around,” he said defensively. “No big deal. Why do you care?”
Meghan bit her lip. “I’m just asking as a friend, Jamie,” she told him. “What’s the problem?”
Jamie sputtered. “It just ain’t your business,” he said. “I been doing my things, and that ain’t anyone’s business.”
Meghan’s heart began to pound. Jamie was acting strangely, and she had a feeling that something was wrong. “I wonder if Jack has spoken with him yet,” she wondered to herself as she stared into Jamie’s frantic eyes. “I had better do something.”
Meghan pulled out her cell phone. “What are you doing?” Jamie asked, his voice tinged with panic.
“I’m just checking my texts,” she lied, seeing the fear on Jamie’s face. “I’m waiting on a text from my friend, Jackie. Is that a problem?”
“No!” Jamie yelled in a voice that was just a bit too loud. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”
Meghan rose to her feet and shuffled quickly into the kitchen. She dialed Jack’s work number, and he answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”
“Jamie Cruise is here,” she whispered into the phone. “And he’s acting strange. I think you need to come over here. Have you spoken with him yet?”
“No,” Jack admitted. “No one has been able to track him down. You said he is there now? At the bakery?”
“Yes,” Meghan confirmed. “He’s in the dining room. Come over, Jack. I have a bad feeling.”
Jack arrived ten minutes later. He was dressed in his uniform, and despite the feeling of panic in her gut, she admired how handsome he was in his Sandy Bay detective attire.
“Thank you for coming,” Meghan gushed as she rushed into Jack’s arms. “Trudy is keeping Jamie occupied in the kitchen; she is showing him photos on her phone from her trip to Palm Springs, and I haven’t heard a peep since they’ve been back there.”
Jack nodded. “Thanks for calling,” he said, bending down to kiss her on the lips. “I’m glad we’ll have him in custody; Chief Nunan just ordered his arrest based on an interview she did with Otis, per my request, and I am going to take him in right now.”
Meghan squeezed Jack’s hand. “Good luck,” she said.
Jack shook his head. “I’m not quite done with you,” he told her apologetically. “I’ll need you to come to the station, too.”
“Me?” she asked. “Why?”
Jack jerked his chin toward the kitchen. “If Jamie has anything to do with the death of Chandler Washington, I’m gonna need you to testify as to the interaction you two had before you called me,” he said. “You said he was acting dodgy and defensive? I’m gonna need that on record.”
“Ugh,” she replied with a frown. “I don’t want to have anything more to do with this case; we talked forever last night about Cheryl Green, and I just want to do my job and go about my day.”
“Sorry, honey,” Jack said. “That isn’t how it works. Now, you stay out of the way while I go apprehend Jamie. You can follow us down to the station, and I’ll get your official statements there.”
10
“And we’re keeping him in custody until further notice.”
Stunned, Meghan leaned back in the red leather chair in Jack’s office as he sat across from her at his desk. “He’s being kept in jail for stealing? Not for murder? Jack, he was acting so shady at the bakery. I can’t believe that was all about stealing.”
Jack sighed, and Meghan could see how tired he looked. “He confessed to robbery,” Jack told her. “When Chief Nunan sat down with him, Jamie admitted that he had gone into Chandler’s house to fix the sink, but that Chandler hadn’t paid him yet. He stole jewelry from Chandler to make up for the lost profits.”
“Why hadn’t Chandler paid him?” she asked. “You said Chandler made a boatload of money--even more than the officers.”
Jack shrugged. “I can’t speak for Chandler,” he told her. “But I know what Jamie said. Jamie thought I had brought him in to nail him on stealing Chandler’s gold cufflinks from prep school, or something like that. He said he went out of town to sell them, but when he couldn’t find a buyer, he came back to town.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “That sounds a little too convenient,” she said. “Chandler is killed, Jamie is seen running away from the direction of the crime, and then, he goes out of town to sell cufflinks? Come on. You should have seen how nervous he was when I asked where he was today, Jack. He looked like he had seen a ghost.”
Jack shook his head. “We’re looking into his alibi, Meghan,” he informed her. “At this point, we’re holding him, and that’s all I can tell you.”
Meghan frowned, and Jack stood from his seat and came around to her side of the desk. “Hey,” he said softly, taking Meghan’s hands in his. “Let’s get out of here. I just worked a seventeen hour shift, and I need a pick me up. Can I take you on a little coffee date?”
Meghan’s face burst into a smile. “Yeah,” she told her boyfriend. “I guess I’ll let you take me out.”
Meghan and Jack decided to walk to Spoon, a new coffee shop on the town square. It was bright and airy, and just what Meghan needed; she felt cheerful immediately upon entering, and she happily ordered a matcha latte, a drink she had grown to like after Karen had recommended it a few weeks ago.
The couple settled onto a soft yellow couch in the corner. They held hands, and she enjoyed the quality time with Jack; it had been a few weeks since they had enjoyed a proper date, and she always craved one-on-one time with him. Jack’s hand drifted down to Meghan’s knee, and his touch sent shivers down her back.
“Not to ruin our date, but tell me, what do you think of the case?” Jack asked as Meghan sighed.
“I really don’t want to talk about Chandler Washington, or anything else pertaining to this mess,” she told Jack, folding her arms across her chest. “I just want to spend some time with my man.”
Jack nodded. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I just can’t stop thinking about it. When I spoke with Cheryl Green this morning, there was just something about her eyes that tipped me off. I have a pretty good gut instinct, and she is someone I am keeping an eye on.”
Meghan bit her lip. “I feel bad for Cheryl, but I agree, I feel like something was off with her when we chatted,” she told Jack.
Meghan’s phone rang, and she saw Otis’ name flash across the screen. “It’s Otis,” she told Jack. “He had some great tips for me when I took his class, and I think we’re going to start training together more often. Let me answer this quickly.”
Meghan rose from the couch and walked toward the vestibule. “Otis,” she answered cheerfully. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good, Meghan,” Otis said. “Hey, I was thinking about our conversation from the other day, and I think i may have a solution for your coordination problems.”
“Oh, really?” she asked eagerly. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” Otis replied. “I was wracking my brain late last night, and I am sure I have a solution...or at least, something that will help. Any chance you’re free later? You could come over to my place for a few. I also have that Zumba DVD back from my neighbor.”
“Yes!” she cried. “That would be awesome. I’m grabbing dinner with Jackie tonight, but we’ll swing by beforehand. Is that alright? Around eight?”
“Great,” Otis agreed. “I’ll see you soon.”
Meghan walked back inside and sat back down. “What did Otis want?” Jack asked.
“He has the Zumba DVD I wanted,” she said, embarrassed to admit that Otis was going to help her with her terrible coordination. “Jackie and I are goi
ng to stop by his place and get it before we go to dinner.”
“That’s cool, babe,” he told her. “I hear his house is so nice; he used it to counsel at-risk juveniles and to run his weight loss group, and from what I’ve been told, it’s a pretty sweet place.”
Meghan smiled. “I’m excited to see it. I’ll text you when Jackie and I leave and let you know how it went.”
“That sounds like a plan, babe,” he said with a smile. “I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”
11
“And this is the hangout space,” Otis announced as he led Meghan and Jackie into his cavernous half-finished basement. “This is where I do some of my community work. It isn’t fancy, but it’s a good sized space, and it’s comfy enough.”
Jackie looked around. “This is huge,” she exclaimed. “You could fit quite a crowd in here!”
Otis laughed. “I love hosting,” he told her. “Meghan, we might even do some of our personal training here. I have a set of weights in the back, and it’s a great private space for a workout.”
Meghan looked over to the corner and saw a bag of golf clubs. “Are those Calloway clubs?” she asked.
Otis nodded. “They are,” he confirmed. “I’m impressed you know the brand. Are you a big golfer?”
Meghan shook her head and giggled. “You’ve seen me in action; I’m not quite sporty,” she told Otis. “But my daddy loves golf. He used to let me drive the cart when he went.”
Meghan removed one of the clubs from the bag, imagining her girlhood days driving around the golf course with her father. She ran her hands up and down the smooth silver club, and then realized the head was missing. “It’s broken,” she told Otis. “What happened?”
Otis sighed. “Chandler,” he said. “He borrowed them for an outing with his friends, and when he returned them, well….”
Jackie shook her head. “That would make me so mad,” she said. “You can’t take someone’s things and then return them broken.”
Otis shrugged. “Chandler did what he wanted,” he said to Jackie. “Oddly enough, though, I miss the guy; he was a terrible neighbor, but in a funny way, I miss him. There’s no one around to break my stuff anymore.”
Meghan laughed softly. “That’s terrible,” she teased.
“I’m just kidding,” Otis said. “Really, though, so sad what happened to him.”
“It is,” Jackie agreed, pushing her newly-trimmed brown bangs out of her eyes. “He was a cutie, that’s for sure.”
Sick of discussing Chandler and the murder, Meghan changed the subject. “So, what was this idea you had, Otis?” she asked. “How can I improve my coordination?”
“Darts,” he said matter of factly.
“Darts?” she said in disgust. “After what happened with Chandler, I can’t even think about playing darts; all I can imagine is Officer Green and Chandler fighting over the dart tournament at the bar.”
“Oh, come on, Meghan,” Otis said. “There are so many benefits. Darts can improve coordination and focus, and it’s fun to play. Come on! I have a massive board in my backyard. Let’s play a round, just to try it. What do you think? Jackie? Are you in?”
Jackie shrugged. “As long as it won’t mess up my nails,” she said, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at Otis. “I’ll do it.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Lead the way, Otis.”
Otis led the women upstairs and outside. They all shuddered when the cold air hit their skin, but then, Otis turned on a heat lamp.
“Gotta warm up the fingers,” Otis joked as he lit the heat lamp, and Meghan was grateful for the sudden burst of warm air.
“How did you start playing darts?” Jackie asked as Otis stretched his arms and shook out his hands.
“Actually, it was Chandler who introduced me to the game,” Otis announced. “I had some guys over a couple of years ago to hang out, and Chandler brought a small board over. I got hooked, and I ended up buying this board for myself a few weeks later.”
Meghan and Jackie admired the enormous dart board that hung to the right of the garage. “This is a nice set, isn’t it?” Meghan asked.
Otis nodded, his eyes bright. “It’s top-class,” he told her. “Well, it was; Chandler borrowed a bunch of my darts and never returned them, and now, my set is incomplete. It’s a bummer; the last set he lost was a collectible. I guess I just had too much faith that he would learn his lesson each time he lost my stuff, and he always proved me wrong…”
“So, if the set is incomplete, can we still play now?” Jackie asked.
“Of course,” Otis said. “I have a cheap set that I bought last week. One dart is missing, but we still have three out of the four darts.”
“Did Chandler lose the missing one?” Meghan asked.
Otis wrinkled his nose. “I can’t remember how it was lost,” he sighed. “Sometimes the darts just disappear before my eyes. It was probably my fault this time.”
Meghan nodded. “Gotcha,” she said. “Well, let’s get started.”
The three lined up. Jackie threw her dart first, and she completely missed the board. Her dart landed in the yard. “Next time!” Otis told her. “Meghan, you are up.”
Meghan hit the dart board, but she was nowhere near the target. “Whoops,” she shrugged.
“That’s okay,” Otis said. “My turn.”
Otis picked up his dart, and without hesitation, he hurled it toward the dart board. It struck the target directly in the center. “Bullseye,” he murmured as Meghan stared in awe.
“You’re pretty good with those darts,” Meghan exclaimed. “What a natural. You hit it dead on.”
Otis smirked. “It’s pretty easy for me,” he agreed. “I’m pretty naturally inclined, but I took a few classes, and I think I’m getting good enough to compete professionally.”
Meghan could not tear her gaze from the dart sitting in the middle of the blood red target. Otis’ aim had been perfect; even watching the officers and IT guys at the retirement party, Meghan had never seen such an accurate throw before.
“Say,” Meghan began slowly. “Did you know Bradley Green, Otis?”
“Bradley Green?” Otis repeated. “The police officer? Yeah, I knew him. He and my dad were good friends back in the day.”
Meghan pursed her lips. “Did I miss you at his retirement party? I don’t think I saw you there?”
“Oh?” Otis replied carefully. “I was there for a bit.”
“What time?” Meghan asked. “I was there most of the night and didn’t see you.”
Otis’ eyes flashed, and Meghan leaned over to Jackie. “Take my phone and call Jack,” she whispered. “Go now. Tell him I think I may know who murdered Chandler Washington.”
12
“What are you girls talking about?” Otis asked, stepping closer to Meghan and Jackie as Jackie turned and dashed away.
“Nothing,” she sputtered. “Just girl talk.”
“Oh, fill me in,” he pleaded. “What did you say to Jackie, Meghan?”
Meghan stared up at Otis. He was taller and bigger than her, and she felt her heart beating furiously in her chest. “It was nothing, Otis,” she lied. “Truly, I just asked if she wanted to see a chick flick later.”
Otis backed down. “Oh, okay,” he said, smiling widely at Meghan. “Haha, I was only teasing anyway. Let’s get back to our dart game, shall we?”
Meghan stared at the long, thick dart in Otis’ hand. The tail was painted scarlet, and the tip was sharper than a knife. She gulped. “Sure,” she replied, hoping that Jack would arrive soon. “Let’s play again.”
Otis gestured to the board. “Your turn,” he told her. “Where did Jackie go? Didn’t she go before you?”
Meghan shook her head. “She had to...use the restroom,” she told him. “I’ll go for her.”
Meghan threw the dart and missed. She threw another one, missing again, and Otis chuckled. “Relax, Meghan,” he urged her. “You seem nervous. Everything alright?”
Meghan remembe
red her conversation with Jack about Chandler’s death. Chandler had been killed by a dart that hit one of his arteries in the perfect place. As she watched Otis hurl another dart and hit the target perfectly, she felt her face break out in a hot sweat. “I’m fine,” she told him. “Just fine.”
Just then, Meghan heard a familiar voice, and her heart leapt with joy. “Otis Barber,” Jack’s deep voice called out from across the lawn. “Stop right there and put the dart down.”
Otis turned around and obeyed, letting the dart fall. His eyes were large as he eyed the gun in Jack’s hand. “Jack? What’s up? What are you doing?”
