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Deadman's Float

Page 3

by Christy Barritt


  Webster didn’t seem to notice.

  “Why don’t we start now?” Webster asked. “There’s no time like the present, right?”

  Serena forced a smile. She wasn’t going to enjoy this. Not one bit.

  Chapter Three

  “I can drive,” Webster said as he and Serena stepped outside into the bright sunshine.

  Serena still felt trapped, as if she’d had no say in any of this—because she hadn’t. And she resented the man for that fact. Plus, she’d still need to finish her route later.

  “The dog goes with us,” she announced.

  She wasn’t going to make this easier than necessary for him. She’d had to claw her way to the top—and by the “clawing her way” she meant that she’d stumbled into the job and not let go. And by “the top” she meant as the online newspaper’s only reporter—because no one else had wanted the job.

  But still.

  Webster glanced down at the dog. “What’s his name?”

  “Sprinkles.”

  “Sprinkles? I like that. He’s more than welcome to ride in the car with us.”

  Well, that tactic hadn’t worked. Serena had pictured him as the type who’d want to keep the canine out of his space, as the kind who liked things to be overly neat and tidy.

  Serena would have to keep thinking of ways to scare him off before he ever really started.

  She climbed into the passenger side of a midsize sedan with shiny rims and dark-blue paint untouched by the sand and saltwater—for now. The elements were hard on vehicles around here. Serena pictured Webster as the type who would be outside every day washing his car and trying to keep it looking clean.

  She picked up Sprinkles and held the dog in her lap as she closed the door. The windows were down, and the dog’s head went outside again, like it was his most favorite thing in the whole wide world to do.

  Serena had tried it once. It was pretty fun.

  “So, my aunt tells me you also drive the ice cream truck.” Webster started the car but made no move to leave yet. Instead, he nodded to Elsa, which Serena had haphazardly parked in the shade across the lawn.

  “That’s right. A lot of people around here have to have more than one job in order to make ends meet.” Although, if Serena had gotten a job as newspaper editor, that might not be a problem anymore. It was just as well. At least, when she drove the ice cream truck, it let her get some of her people fix out of the way. Talking was her love language.

  “I’m guessing you dress like a carhop because you sell ice cream?” Webster continued, glancing at her outfit.

  Oh, he was in for a surprise. But maybe Serena would let him figure that out the hard way. She liked to keep people guessing.

  “That’s right,” Serena said.

  “Okay then.” His hand went to the gearshift, as if ready to put the vehicle into Drive. “Where should we start? Should we go back to the scene of the crime?”

  “We can, but Cassidy won’t be happy to see me if we do.”

  “Who is Cassidy?” A knot formed on his brow.

  “I figured you’d done your research by now,” Serena said, feeling slightly satisfied with herself. “Cassidy Chambers is our police chief here in town.”

  “And the two of you are on a first-name basis?”

  Serena shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, we are.”

  He stared at Serena for a moment before letting out a little chuckle. He had no idea what to do with her, did he? “Okay. I see. Well, I was actually hoping I could get a good feel for the island. Maybe we should do that now until the crime scene is cleared and the police chief will talk to us. I can make sure that my aunt pays you for your time.”

  Getting paid for her time was a benefit. Serena nodded. “Fine. I can show you around town.”

  Certainly Webster realized that his aunt couldn’t show him around town. Ernestine had only left her home a total of five times since Serena had known her.

  “How long have you lived here?” Webster asked, making no effort to pull away. Thankfully, the live oak trees that graced the area provided some shade until the car cooled off.

  “About two years now. I’ve gone back to Michigan a couple times, but I finally decided on staying in Lantern Beach for good. There’s something about this island that I connect with, that’s become part of me.”

  “It’s nice to feel like you’re a part of something.” A certain wistfulness feathered his voice.

  “And why in the world would you give up your job in Richmond to come here?” It made sense for someone like Serena to do it. A free-spirited wanderer was buried down deep inside her. But someone like Webster . . . he seemed like the type who wanted a stable job, a steady paycheck, and the perfect little American life, complete with a white picket fence.

  “It’s a long story,” he said quickly, suddenly not seeming as chatty.

  Serena knew there had to be more to his story, but she didn’t press. Not right now, at least. Instead, she asked, “When did you get here?”

  “Last night. It was a long drive so I slept in this morning. It’s not something I do very often, and my aunt is an early riser, so I didn’t sleep as well as I’d hoped.” He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and put his car into Drive, as if talking about himself made him uncomfortable. “So where should we start?”

  He’d changed the subject. He probably thought Serena hadn’t noticed, but she had. She would let it slide for now, though.

  Instead, she let out a sigh before pointing at the road in the distance. “Well, let’s start with a right-hand turn . . .”

  An hour later, Serena had shown Webster everything on the island, from the lighthouse at the southern tip up through the fishing pier, then the boardwalk and retail area. They’d continued north all the way up to where the church was located. It had been a quick tour of the island, but she’d tried to hit all the major hotspots.

  Just like any good reporter, Webster had asked a lot of questions and seemed interested in most things.

  When she was done, Serena realized that she really needed to walk Sprinkles so he could use the bathroom. She pointed to a public beach access point. “Do you mind pulling off over here?”

  “Sure. Maybe by the time we take a little walk with Sprinkles, the crime scene will be clear and we can talk to the police chief.”

  The man seemed so happy and optimistic. Serena usually liked happy and optimistic. Except that Webster’s optimism seemed to contradict her grumpiness right now. She didn’t quite know what to do about that.

  Webster found a spare bag in his glove compartment and put it in his pocket. “Just in case Sprinkles leaves a little present.”

  Serena barely knew the man, but he already seemed to think of everything. More resentment grew in her. Serena knew it was ridiculous, but that didn’t stop the emotion from rearing its ugly head.

  This man was intruding on her life, and she didn’t like it.

  Despite that, she climbed out with her dog.

  Even though canines were supposed to be on a leash on the beach, Serena didn’t have a leash yet for Sprinkles. The dog seemed like he was going to follow her everywhere, so hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem.

  As soon as Serena crossed over the sand dune, an immediate peace filled her. There was something about being here on the ocean that soothed her soul. The reaction wasn’t unique to her. People came from all over the country to experience some of this serenity.

  Thankfully, some of the crowds on this stretch of beach had thinned out. No doubt people were heading back to their rentals in time for a late dinner or other evening activities they’d planned.

  With Sprinkles by her side, she started walking down the shore toward a pier in the distance.

  “On Tuesdays the community likes to gather here at the pier,” she explained, trying some small talk. “People bring their hammocks and string them up between the posts. There’s usually live music and some food trucks and even a few bonfires. It’s really nice.”

 
; “I will have to check it out sometime while I’m here, then.” Webster walked beside her, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

  “While you’re here?” She caught onto the meaning of his words, and hope surged in her. “That makes it sound like you’re not going to stay for an extended period.”

  A slight red tinged his cheeks. “I didn’t say that.”

  “But your words implied it.”

  He shrugged. “I plan on staying in town for a while. A good while.”

  Serena fought disappointment. She’d be lying if she said his words hadn’t felt like a dagger bursting her hope-filled balloon.

  As Sprinkles hurried ahead, sniffing dune grass and following some kind of scent, Serena and Webster continued to stroll behind him. The sand was soft at their feet, and the sound of the waves seemed to wash away any problems.

  Except the fact that Webster was here. But there was nothing Serena could do about that now. Eventually, he’d probably realize this wasn’t the place for him. She just needed to give it some time.

  “So a murder here on Lantern Beach?” Webster said. “I figured when I took this job that it was going to be pretty boring.”

  “You might be surprised just how many things happen here in Lantern Beach,” Serena said. “I’m not easily surprised, yet this place has thrown me for a loop more than once.”

  “I think I’m going to like it here.”

  Sprinkles stopped by something on the sand. When Serena saw him sniffing, she instantly tensed, remembering seeing that dog with a bloody shoe. Had he found something else?

  But as Serena reached him, she saw that somebody had made a lovely heart out of broken seashells. The display was probably four feet by four feet, and it was surprisingly untouched by any tourists who’d been out here today. Maybe that was because it was close enough to the sand dune that nobody had disturbed it.

  “Wow.” Serena paused beside it. “This is really beautiful. Someone obviously put a lot of time and energy into it.”

  Her words were true. These shells hadn’t haphazardly been placed in a heart shape. All of the lines were perfectly even and neatly layered. The colors of the shells somehow made it look like the heart had a shadow behind it. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture.

  “I agree,” Webster said. “It’s very nice.”

  “A lot of people come to the beach to heal,” Serena said. “When I see this, that’s what it makes me think of. Healing and peace.”

  “Did you come here to heal?”

  Serena turned her head toward Webster. Did he really ask that question? It seemed so personal. She wanted to brush the inquiry off, to pretend like he was totally out of line. There were some things she just didn’t want to talk about. “I guess we all leave things behind,” she finally said. “Oh look, Sprinkles seems to have done his business. I think it’s time that we go talk to Cassidy now.”

  Subject changed.

  Because even though Serena thought of herself as an open book, there were some chapters she’d prefer to skip.

  Chapter Four

  “So, Cassidy Chambers, our police chief, looks like she could be a lifeguard instead of head of law enforcement,” Serena said as they parked in front of the police station and then walked toward the door. “But she’s actually pretty tough. I just thought I’d give you that warning. If you make any Baywatch references, Cassidy very well could kick you in the shin and make it look like an accident.”

  Webster nodded, looking unruffled. “I think I can handle her.”

  Serena shrugged. She’d let him find out for himself. Cassidy could be the nicest person in the world, but you didn’t want to get on her bad side. She was relentless when it came to tracking down criminals on the island.

  Before Serena could say anything else, Webster pulled open the door to the police station and charged inside like he owned the place. Serena scrambled behind him, Sprinkles in her arms.

  Serena couldn’t wait to see this. She loved it when Cassidy put people in their place. Well, she didn’t love it when Cassidy put her in place. But anybody else, she did—especially someone like Webster, who didn’t belong here on the island.

  Serena really shouldn’t think like that, yet she couldn’t shake the urge for this man to leave. Not yet, at least.

  The editor job should’ve been hers. She had a feeling Webster wouldn’t last long here on this island. Then she could take the job that was rightfully hers.

  Webster charged up to the reception desk. “Hi, my name is Webster, and I’m the new editor of the Lantern Beach Outlook. I’d like a word with the police chief, please.”

  Serena raised her eyebrows. He sounded tough. Surprising.

  A moment later, Cassidy stepped out. Her gaze went from Webster to Serena and back to Webster. “I’m Police Chief Chambers. What can I do to help you?”

  “I was hoping to have a word with you.”

  “Come this way.” Cassidy led them the short distance back to her office, and they each took a seat across from her at her desk.

  Serena sat with Sprinkles in her lap, waiting for Cassidy to say something about having a dog in the building.

  She didn’t.

  “I’d really like to get a statement from you about what happened at the rental house today,” Webster started, diving right in.

  “We’re trying to put together a press release right now.”

  “I’m not really interested in a press release. Like I said, as the editor of the local newspaper, I’d like to get an interview with you about today’s events.”

  Serena’s eyebrows shot up. This man had transformed from mild and meek Clark Kent to Superman. She hated to admit it, but she was kind of impressed at how hard-nosed he sounded.

  “Well, Mr. Webster.” Cassidy laced her fingers together in front of her as she sat at the desk. “That’s not really the way things work around here.”

  “I am a reporter, and you can’t deny me my first amendment right.”

  She leveled her gaze with him. “I’m certain that I can keep information from you until we learn the identity of this man and notify his family.”

  Webster leaned back. “Then you can tell us other details about the crime. Maybe we can work together. You give me information, I run the article, and someone might come forward with more information.”

  “Look,” Cassidy started, some of the friendliness leaving her voice. “I know you’re new here and still trying to learn the ropes. I can appreciate that. But a newspaper editor is not going to tell me how to do my job. Do you understand that?”

  Serena held her breath, waiting to see how Webster would react. This was better than she’d ever thought. Cassidy was going to run this guy off before Serena could.

  “I understand and respect your position.” Webster appeared totally unflustered. “But you need to respect my position too. If there’s a killer here on this island, the community needs to know. I have other ways I can find out.”

  Cassidy raised her chin. “I wouldn’t suggest you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. If you interfere with my investigation, there will be consequences.”

  As if agreeing, Sprinkles let out a little bark.

  Neither Webster or Cassidy seemed to notice.

  “I don’t intend on messing up your investigation,” Webster said. “But I’m not afraid to do my own either. When you’re ready to give your statement, I would appreciate a call.” Webster reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. Then he stood and left it on her desk. “Come on, Serena. Let’s go.”

  Serena glanced over her shoulder at Cassidy before leaving the office. She shrugged, letting Cassidy know that she had nothing to do with how Webster had acted.

  Serena still wasn’t sure if she was impressed or put off. But right now, she had to admit she was feeling pretty fascinated.

  Serena braced herself for whichever side of Webster she was about to experience as they climbed back into the car.

  But it quickly became clear t
hat he was still in Superman mode.

  “Tell me what you know about this guy,” he said as he cranked the engine. The laid-back tourist was long gone, and a big city reporter had taken his place.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Serena’s mind raced to come up with something reasonable.

  “How old do you think this man was?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say mid-thirties.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Caucasian. Dark hair. Thin.”

  “What did you hear the police chief say when she came to the crime scene?”

  “Well . . . this man had some kind of wound on his abdomen. I think he was stabbed.”

  “Keep going. Tell me everything. No detail is too small.”

  Man, this guy could really be intense when he wanted to. Serena felt like she was being interrogated. “The neighbor told me there were probably fifteen people staying at the house where the victim was found, but those renters must’ve left this morning. I’m trying to think of what else . . . Oh, one of his shoes was found by the pool deck.”

  “And the other one?”

  She rubbed Sprinkles’ head. “The dog had it when I first saw him.”

  He jerked his head toward her. “What?”

  “Sprinkles had it in his mouth. And there was blood on it. Fresh blood. Based on that, I guess we can assume this man died this morning. He must have been stabbed and pushed into the pool.”

  “You’re really confusing sometimes, you know that? I can’t figure you out. Are you a caricature or an all-star investigator? I’m still not sure.”

  “I have been told before that I’m confusing.” So many times, for that matter.

  Webster cleared his throat and turned back to the road ahead, almost as if he hadn’t intended on getting personal. “We need to find out everything we can about this guy. Who told you that there were fifteen people staying at the house?”

 

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