Deadly Melody

by Connie Mann

  At this, Bryan looked sick. “No, I thought he was exaggerating or something. When I talked to him on Saturday morning, he tried to laugh it off. Said just to hang on to the backpack and he’d be back for it.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “I didn’t know what to believe. He was acting really weird.”

  Nick kept his gaze on the boy. “Weird scared? Or weird like he might hurt himself?”

  “No! Weird scared. He’d never hurt himself. Things were going good for him.” He glanced at Blaze. “He and Blaze were good. He was working up the courage to tell her he loved her.”

  Nick took the backpack and opened the zipper. He swallowed a curse but showed no outward reaction as he walked to his SUV, pulled out a pair of gloves, and put them on, then looked through the rest of the bag. “Did you touch the bag with the weed? Anything inside the backpack?”

  Bryan shook his head. “I-I don’t think so. I didn’t even open it until after . . . I peeked in and zipped it shut again.”

  “Was he selling drugs?” Nick directed the question to Bryan and Blaze, who both instantly denied it.

  “Do you know where he got these bags, then?”

  Again, fierce denials.

  “Who else did Teddy hang out with?” He included Blaze in the question as he held up the backpack. “Where would he have gotten the drugs?”

  Blaze just kept shaking her head. “I don’t know.” She speared him with a hard glance. “I would tell you if I did.”

  He held out his gloved hand. “May I see the note?”

  Blaze handed it over and leaned against the car, trembling. Cat moved over and stood next to her, not close enough to touch, just enough to let her know she was there.

  Nick took out an evidence bag, carefully placed the note inside. “I’m afraid I need to hold on to this for a while. But you’ll get it back, OK?”

  Blaze swallowed, hard. “Do you think he killed himself?”

  “We’ll know more once we get the coroner’s report. What about the phone call Saturday night? Does the saying he quoted mean anything to either of you? Was it a signal or code of some kind?”

  Both teens shook their heads.

  “If I hadn’t shown up, what were you going to do with the bag?”

  Cat shoved away from the car, marched toward him. “They were just talking about how they were going to call you and give it to you when you showed up. They’re good kids.”

  “I know they’re good kids. I’m just asking questions.”

  Her eyes spit fire under her cool outward demeanor. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  Now she was being insulting. “I am trying to figure out what happened to their friend. Jumping to conclusions is not, nor has it ever been, part of my police strategy.”

  She met his gaze head-on, nodded once, as if to say, “OK, then.”

  He eyed both teens. “If you think of anything else, even if it doesn’t seem important, call me, OK?”

  Nick pulled away from the house, jaw clenched. Drugs. He muttered a stream of curses and thought through the conversation. Blaze looked ready to collapse, poor girl, so he was glad Cat was there.

  Maybe.

  As a cop, he’d learned long ago never to believe in coincidences. Cat’s arrival at the same time as Teddy’s death and more drugs showing up in Safe Harbor gave him that itchy feeling he was missing something.

  It was time to check out the lady’s background. See what popped.

  Chapter 10

  Cat breathed a sigh of relief when Nick left. Whenever he was around, Cat felt like she couldn’t quite get enough air. Between his size and intensity—and those piercing brown eyes that seemed to see too much—he made her feel naked and exposed.

  Blaze nodded her head toward Bryan. “I told you Nick would believe you.”

  He shrugged. “I hope so. What if he turns around and then says it was me. That I’m dealing drugs.” He turned pleading eyes to Cat. “I’m trying to get scholarships to go to the University of Florida. I’d never do anything to mess that up.”

  Part of Cat shared his concern, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. Bryan was worried enough. She hoped, for his sake, that they’d all been right about Nick.

  She looked around, her anxiety rising now that Nick was gone. She glanced at the woods surrounding the property, and the sense that someone was watching her made her stiffen. She forced herself to act normally, but she knew with sick certainty that her time was up. She had to leave Safe Harbor. Now. She just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  “You ready, Blaze? Nice to meet you, Bryan. I’m sorry you lost your friend.”

  She climbed into the car and waited for Blaze to join her, then headed toward the marina.

  “Teddy wasn’t a drug dealer.”

  “That’s what you’ve been saying. So maybe, like you said, he was tempted and then changed his mind. And someone, ah, didn’t want him to do that.”

  Blaze took a deep, shuddering breath. “So he tried to do the right thing and get out of it, and they killed him.”

  “Maybe. We don’t know.”

  “We have to find out. What’s our next step?”

  Cat glanced at her, then back at the road. “There really is no next step, Blaze. Nick has the backpack. I get the idea he won’t stop until he figures out what really happened.”

  Blaze eyed her shrewdly. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

  Cat kept her eyes on the road. “I told you I couldn’t stay. I should have left already.”

  “You’re going to make Mama cry.”

  Cat swallowed, hard. “I don’t want to, but yeah. Probably.”

  “Why did you come back if you weren’t staying?” The accusation reminded Cat how young Blaze really was.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Have you tried telling Eve no?”

  A quick smile flashed across Blaze’s features. “Yeah, she’s a total bulldozer.”

  “I’ve missed everyone,” Cat admitted.

  “Then why can’t you stay, get a job here?”

  “I can’t, Blaze. It just isn’t possible.”

  “Is someone after you?”

  They pulled up in front of the marina. “I just need to get back to work is all.”

  “Fine, don’t tell me. Whatever.” She slammed the door and marched onto the porch.

  Cat sighed as she followed. She greeted Mama, then went upstairs and packed her few belongings. A tug of nostalgia gripped her as she glanced around the bedroom, then picked up her small bag and left. If she was smart, she’d never be back.

  Sasha was in the kitchen making a sandwich when Cat stepped in. The sight of her baby bump firmed Cat’s resolve.

  Sasha turned, sandwich in hand, and sat down at the table. She eyed the vase. “Nice flowers.”

  “They’re for you. I got a bunch for Mama and one for Blaze, too,” she added, and Sasha’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Why?”

  Cat looked away and shrugged. “Why not? Thought you might like them.”

  The silence lengthened. Sasha looked at her bag. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes, it’s time. I should have left already.”

  Sasha studied her. “Have they found out what Teddy died from yet?”

  “No. Nick is looking into it. I’m sure he’ll figure it out. He seems like a nice guy, decent. For a cop.”

  “He’s a nice guy, period. He’s been there for us in some really tough situations lately.”

  Cat heard the unspoken criticism that she hadn’t been there for her family. She couldn’t explain, even if she wanted to.

  The silence lengthened. So much stood between them, and Cat had no idea how to bridge the gap, or even if it was possible. Maybe the distance was for the best. Safer. But in that moment, it made her sad.

  Sasha bit her lip, which was very unlike her. “Look, Cat, about what happened in high school, the night of your symphony audition—”

  Cat didn’t let her finish. “That was a long time ago. I don
’t want to go there. But it’s OK, Sash. Really.” On impulse, she leaned over and gave her sister a quick hug. “Be safe and take good care of everyone, especially that new baby.”

  She hurried out before Sasha could say anything else. On the porch, she steeled herself as Mama spotted her bag, her eyes filling with tears. Cat hated, hated, making Mama cry. She crouched down in front of Mama’s rocker, took both her hands. “You knew I couldn’t stay. I’m sorry, Mama. Don’t cry.”

  Reaching out, Mama cupped her cheeks in both palms. “Whatever you are running from, let us help.”

  Cat shook her head sadly. “You can’t help, Mama. But I’m fine. Please don’t worry.” She leaned in and gave her a quick kiss, then stood. “I’ll say goodbye to Pop before I go.”

  “Will you let us know you’re safe?”

  Cat looked over her shoulder, throat thick as she memorized the picture of Mama on the porch, looking so strong and yet small in her rocker. “I will do my best. I love you.”

  She dropped her bag and violin in her trunk, then walked into the marina and found Pop behind the counter. He met her eyes and nodded. “You are leaving.”

  “Yes, it’s time.”

  He came around the counter, gathered her in for a hug. He smelled like seawater and Old Spice and home. She hugged him back, alarmed at how thin he’d gotten. “I am glad you came for the wedding, Cathy. It was good to see you. We’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. Take good care of Mama and Blaze.”

  Behind the sadness and worry, a bit of his usual twinkle emerged. “That is a full-time job.”

  “But you do it well,” Cat quipped, leaning in for a kiss. He froze at her words, and Cat realized what she’d said. All those years ago, when Nick, aka Tony, was kidnapped, he hadn’t done such a good job taking care of his family, not to her mind. She still couldn’t believe he’d known—or at least suspected—who’d taken Nick and had said nothing for so many years.

  “Love you, Pop. Gotta go.”

  She hurried to her car and bumped down the drive and out to the main road before she had the chance to change her mind. She couldn’t let the pull of family, the desire to be here with them, let her lose sight of the truth.

  If she loved them, she had to get far, far away from here. And stay away.

  As Nick left the Hendricks place and drove back to town, he eyed the backpack on the floorboard beside him. He didn’t doubt what Bryan had said. He’d found no evidence anywhere in the boy’s background that tied him to drugs. But he hadn’t found anything linking Teddy, either, yet he obviously had been. The question was, who had supplied them? And with that much in the backpack, were other kids from the high school involved?

  He pulled into a spot right in front of the Blue Dolphin, since he’d shown up between the lunch and dinner rush. He climbed out of his SUV and scanned the street, but nothing seemed out of place. Still, he could feel something pulsing just beneath the smooth surface of his little town, and he wouldn’t stop until he’d dug up whatever it was and rooted it out.

  Logic said that after Demetri and Roy had smuggled drugs through town for twenty-plus years, whoever was behind it wouldn’t just pack up and leave. No, they’d restart the network. Looked like they already had. He just didn’t know where or by whom. But he’d find out.

  He walked into the Dolphin and waited a minute for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. LuAn was behind the old wooden bar, polishing glasses. She looked up when he entered, but before she could start asking question, the phone rang.

  Nick looked around, nodded to an older couple by the window, who were obviously tourists, given their crisp new Safe Harbor T-shirts.

  He spotted Alice Sutton, Cole’s mother, and Buzz Casey, the Sutton Ranch foreman, sitting at a booth in the back, looking very cozy. They were holding hands, if he was not mistaken. As he watched, Alice snatched her hand away. He noted Alice’s blush and Buzz’s scowl and hid a smile. Well, good for them. Buzz raised a hand and motioned him over.

  “Any news on what happened to Teddy?” Alice asked. Her eyes filled. “My heart just aches for his parents. I’ve gotten to know his mother at the quilt shop. They just seem like the loveliest people.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine losing a child.”

  Nick shifted uncomfortably, aware suddenly that these were the same kinds of conversations that must have gone on all over Safe Harbor after he disappeared from the marina as a three-year-old. He patted Alice’s hand. “It’s still early days in the investigation, but we should have some answers soon.”

  “You thinking suicide?” This from Buzz.

  “Right now, I’m waiting for the coroner’s report and gathering information.” He touched the brim of his hat. “You all enjoy the rest of your day.”

  Everyone knew he couldn’t divulge the details of an investigation, but that never stopped anyone from asking.

  He walked over to LuAn. “Is Joey in the back?”

  Her gaze grew wary. “Yeah. Why?”

  “I need to have a word with him.”

  She hitched a thumb over her shoulder, then raised the walk-through panel so he could pass through to the kitchen.

  He found Joey Bard with his head in the bowels of the dishwasher, banging a wrench. “Joey?”

  The man smacked his head, yelled, “Ouch,” then climbed up from the floor, hitching up his britches as he did. His belly still slid over his belt. “Help you? I need to get this thing fixed before the supper rush.” He wiped his hands on a rag looped to his belt.

  “You’ve heard about Teddy Winston?”

  “Who hasn’t? Shame, though. Everyone says he was a good kid. You find out why he died?”

  Nick figured he’d be asked this question at least a dozen more times today. “Not yet. Waiting on the coroner’s report.” He paused. “How well did you know Teddy?”

  Bard’s whole body went still. “Not too well. He worked for us every now and again, when we needed extra help with dishes. Mostly weekends, holidays, times like that. He was quiet, kept to himself.”

  “He have many friends? People he came and left with?”

  “The Martinelli girl, mostly”—he circled a hand near his head—“the one with the crazy hair colors. Sometimes another kid. Don’t know his name.”

  As he was talking, Nick was prowling the room, gradually coming to a padlocked door. “What’s in here?”

  Joey straightened, folded his arms over his chest. “Supplies.”

  “Why is it locked?”

  “Because too many things have mysteriously walked out of there over the years.”

  “Who has a key?”

  “Me. LuAn. The staff.”

  “Teddy have a key?”

  “What’s this about, Stanton?”

  “Just asking questions. Trying to get a feel for Teddy’s life.”

  “His life had nothing to do with my storage room.”

  “Mind if I have a look?”

  “Actually, yes, I do mind. Now, if you’ve brought a search warrant . . . ?”

  “Why would you mind if I peek at your supplies?”

  “I mind nosy cops in general.” Gone was the jovial restaurant owner. “I need to get back to work.”

  “You hear anything about drugs in Safe Harbor? Somebody moving weed, or maybe something worse? Cocaine? Heroin?”

  Bard stiffened, folded his arms over his chest. “Only name that comes to mind is Eddie Varga. But I’m sure you already know that.”

  “Funny, Eddie said the same thing about you.”

  “Then he’s a lying piece of trash and ought to know better.” Bard straightened. “You need to leave.”

  Nick turned toward the door, then stopped. “Thanks for your time. By the way, where were you on Saturday night, about seven?”

  Bard narrowed his eyes. “You’ve lived here long enough to know exactly where I was. Line clear out the door and down the sidewalk that time of night. I was here, and half the town can vouch for me.”

  “Good to know
. You have a nice day.”

  Nick walked out to his SUV, thinking about their conversation. In a town where most people didn’t lock their front doors and break-ins were rare, why would Joey padlock his storage room?

  Cat refused to look back as she headed toward the interstate, hands gripping the wheel. She had to look forward, always forward. It was the only way she’d stayed alive all these years. Keep moving. Never stay in one place.

  She eyed the bottle of tequila that rolled around the floorboard, tempted to pull over and lose herself in it for a while. She knew the relief never lasted long, not even through the hangover, but still, her fingers itched to grab the bottle, just hold it.

  The urge was always strongest when she was sad. But she wouldn’t give in. She hadn’t touched a drop in years, not until Joellen’s death, and look what that caused? Mrs. Fletcher had a broken hip, thanks to her.

  Joellen had asked her once why she always kept a full bottle with her. Cat had said it was a reminder, that if she didn’t pay attention, she could fall back down.

  Today, her courage wasn’t what it might have been.

  Ten miles out of town, her hands were shaking and she almost ran head-on into an oncoming car trying to reach the bottle. She just wanted to wrap her hands around it.

  Maybe have one sip.

  No. She had to be strong. She wouldn’t give in. She’d keep driving until she was somewhere over the Florida state line. Alabama, maybe.

  She glanced down at the speedometer, realized she was going way too fast, and started easing up on the accelerator.

  A white pickup truck suddenly appeared in her rearview mirror, coming up quick. Cat hugged the shoulder, giving him room to pass, but he stayed right on her tail.

  She eyed the shoulder, looking for a place to pull off so he could go around, but there were deep culverts on either side. They were empty now, but would fill up later during the usual afternoon rain.

  Suddenly, she heard a loud pop, and her car started fishtailing. She grabbed the wheel, tried to keep it on the road. Heart pounding, she was trying to straighten the tires when there was another loud pop.

  Her sweaty palms slid on the steering wheel, and the car veered onto the embankment, down toward the culvert. The angle was steep, and next thing Cat knew, the car rolled over.