Murder by the Seaside

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  His file called him a chameleon, but I assumed it was more about sneak attacks or sniper shooting than wardrobe. Disappointing.

  Seeing Sebastian outside the office gave me all sorts of concentration problems. At least back at the FBI I had some idea of my purpose. In a mall with a grown man wearing flip-flops, my role blurred. One friend helping another? Two buddies buying new sunglasses?

  “Which way to Starbucks?” Sebastian anchored his glasses in his shirt collar.

  I lifted a finger in the general direction. “What do you order? I have a theory about how our coffee order gives an implication of personality. The fact we drink coffee is factor one. Tea drinkers would frown at the entire concept of Starbucks. They drink tea to relax and unwind. I drink it to soothe a sore throat.”

  His pace slowed as I rambled. A crooked smile climbed up one cheek. “Sounds like you have a doctorate thesis going.”

  “Dr. Price. Never say never, I guess.”

  We got onto the escalator and I nodded toward the coffee shop. The mall brimmed with kids out of school for the summer and tourists catching a movie or getting in a little shopping. The aroma of Cinnabon rose up to meet us. The food court was my territory. I caught a spot in line for coffee and waited. I scoped out the level above us. If he wasn’t with me, I’d make a trip to my favorite lingerie store, Sugar and Spice. Mom put an emphasis on nice underwear. One never knew when one might wind up in an emergency room. No one wanted to be there wearing tatty underpants.

  “What can I get started for you today?” A perky blonde tipped her head from side to side. Her ponytail swung over her shoulders.

  Sebastian bumped me with his elbow.

  “I’d like a grande, non-fat, no whip, five pump, upside-down, soy, caramel macchiato.”

  She scribbled on the side of a green and white cup.

  “For you?” The girl prompted Sebastian. He let his eyes run to the tiny blackboard propped on the countertop. She beamed, awaiting the masterpiece she could create for him.

  “Small black coffee.”

  Disappointed, she turned away and got busy.

  “Care if I join you?” Sebastian nodded in the direction of the lingerie store. My heart stuttered.

  “You in the market for women’s unmentionables?”

  “You have to ask?”

  “Grande, non-fat, no whip, five pump, upside-down, soy, caramel macchiato, and a tall bold.” The barrista’s enthusiasm waned at the end.

  “She thinks I’m boring.” We headed back to the escalator. “Is that what your coffee thesis would say about me?”

  Yes. “No. I’d say you weren’t complicated.”

  “Wonder what your order says about you then?” He sipped his plain bold coffee. His eyebrows lifted, teasing me.

  “I’d say my order tells people I know what I like.”

  “Or that you’re a control freak.”

  I shoved my free hand in my pocket and bit back a line of retorts. We reached the store and stopped. “I can handle this myself. You can wait here.” I looked pointedly at a nearby bench. No way was I buying anything beyond the pretty pink and white door with him beside me.

  “No can do.” He stepped past me into the brightly lit store. “I don’t want to miss this.”

  A throaty noise escaped my lips. “Excuse me.”

  “I didn’t really come for sunglasses.” His arm snaked out to pull me inside. Coffee sloshed inside my cup. “I’m here for your protection.”

  The inside of Sugar and Spice looked like a cloud. Pale blue walls, white fixtures. Pink angel wings and teddy bears on display. A group of teens sprayed one another with perfume samples from the fragrance wall. The shop smelled of powder and flowers, all as light and inviting as the décor, which was not remotely ominous. Unless you feared clerks in white T-shirts and nylon wings.

  “Can I help you find anything?” A brunette with silver wings approached me.

  I turned to make a joke about security, but he was gone.

  “Do you have any specials on your boy shorts?” My cheeks heated with the words. Sebastian’s women probably wore black lacy things from the high-end store on the other side of the mall. The one where the clerks brought customers bottled water while they tried on strips of lace and ribbon. I turned in a circle, looking for my partner. He flipped through hangers near the window, flirting with a little redheaded angel. When we made eye contact, he narrowed his eyes at the lady piling boy shorts on one arm for me.

  “Small, right?” She offered a stack of panties in varied colors and fabric. High on one bicep was a black band. The kind sports figures wore when they lost a player. I looked more closely at her. Brunette. Check. Big boobs. Check. Without the tears and screaming, it was hard to know for sure, but I had a hunch Sebastian had found our mystery woman. I turned to give him a thumbs-up, but I didn’t see him.

  “You look familiar. I think you knew my friend Brady.”

  The woman made an audible intake of air. Her mouth dropped open, and tears glossed her eyes. She threw the stack of underpants in my face and ran.

  Chapter Eight

  Another angel worker dashed over to help me. Her ice-blue feathers rammed up my nose as we both fell to the floor collecting panties.

  “I am so sorry. She hasn’t been herself lately. I hope you won’t hold this against Sugar and Spice. We can offer you a discount on your next visit here.” A little silver name badge identified Blue Wings as the store manager.

  “It’s fine, really.” I scooped a handful of super-cute underpants into my free hand. Trying not to spill my lidded coffee made the process tricky. “Here.” I stacked my pile of floor panties in her hands. “I need to go check on her.”

  “Patience.”

  I jumped to my feet and ran in the direction of Sebastian’s voice. My mind reeled. Why would she run? The manager called out apologies behind me. I waved a hand overhead. “No worries.” Six elderly women in purple hats stood outside the store watching as I slid out around the corner into the mall. Masses of shoppers crowded the corridors. Business had picked up. Through the skylight there was the telltale flash of lightning. A storm was on its way.

  “Patience.” I jumped. The group of purple hats pointed across the hall to where Sebastian stood outside the ladies’ room. If I didn’t know it was his voice, I wouldn’t have connected the voice calling me with the man leaning easily against the wall. He’d tucked ear buds in and tapped a rhythm on his thigh.

  Before I reached him, the ladies’ room door swung open. An infinitesimal nod told me I needed to go inside. I grabbed the swinging door and slipped in. Stopping at the mirror, I set my coffee on the counter and dug in my purse for lip gloss. Face fixed, I washed my hands and fluffed my hair. When nothing happened, I bent down to look under the stalls. No feet.

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow when I walked back out.

  “No one’s in there.”

  He lifted his chin. “Wait.”

  I sipped the lukewarm coffee and looked at Sebastian a hundred times. Why did he think she went in the bathroom? Why had she run? What was going on?

  I opened my breath to tell Sebastian I’d had enough shopping when the bathroom door sucked open. A woman with a silk scarf tied over her hair and around her chin swept out. Oversized white sunglasses hid her face, but her red nose said she’d been crying. Sebastian pushed off the wall in a saunter and maneuvered through the crowd with ease. It took a minute for me to catch up. I glanced over a shoulder at the bathroom door. She must’ve been standing on a toilet.

  “How’d you find her?” I edged up beside Sebastian.

  He smiled. “You’re like my bumbling sidekick. Ever thought of being an agent?”

  “Oh sure. I kept an eye out for bumbling agents when I was recruiting. Can’t find enough of those.”

  �
�You did good. You really never considered being an agent?” He nudged me with an elbow.

  “No. Now, are you going to tell me how you found her selling women’s underwear?” I was curious, not crazy. Agents wore Kevlar for a reason. And that didn’t sound like fun to me.

  “I had a buddy run her plate. I used that to get her address. She lives in an apartment, so I contacted the landlord. He told me where she works. I called the store. Got her schedule. Her name’s Tara Wilkins, by the way. You should ask her about the fight she had with your victim the night he died.”

  “Wow. All I did this morning was watch windows get installed and listen to Hank complain about his wife.”

  “At least you got paid.”

  “Yeah. I made eighty bucks getting my door fixed.”

  Sebastian slowed his pace and I followed suit.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what we were up to?” I asked. “I have a feeling that exchange could have gone a little smoother with some warning on my part.” I planted my feet and waited for an answer.

  “I’m just seeing what you’re made of, boss.”

  What was the proper response to that? Whatever he thought about me, if it involved me becoming an agent or chasing bad guys into darkened warehouses, he was out of his mind.

  “Why do you think she ran?” I returned my focus to the woman ahead of us.

  “Why does anyone run? She’s scared.”

  “Of what?” Was she guilty? Did she know the killer? Think he sent me?

  “That’s a good question. Looks like it’s time you find out.”

  The woman took a side exit into a small parking lot and broke into a run. I recognized her truck from the island and sprinted for it, overtaking her in the last ten yards. She stopped. I spun in victory, blocking her driver’s side door.

  “What do you want?” she asked. “I don’t have anything. I didn’t do anything. I don’t know anything.”

  “Tara, my name is Patience Price. I’m a counselor from Chincoteague. I saw you the other day and wondered how you’re doing.”

  Her expression softened. Confusion set in. “You want to give me counseling?”

  “No. I mean, I will, if you want, but I’m trying to figure out what really happened to Brady. I don’t believe Adrian Davis killed him.”

  “Why not?” She scanned the parking lot, wringing her hands.

  “Why did you run when I mentioned Brady?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, he was murdered and you show up at my work asking about him...that can’t be good, right?”

  I shook my head and mashed my lips together. How had she gotten to the point in her life where a simple question led to fleeing work in the middle of her shift?

  “Who were you fighting with at the Dress Barn?”

  Her eyes went saucer wide. “You saw that?”

  “It’s a small island.”

  Tara shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking at the truck behind me. “I wanted to go to his funeral, but she said no.”

  “Who?” She looked paranoid. Maybe I misread her anxiety.

  “His wife.” Tara looked at her feet. “It was stupid of me to ask. I didn’t think she knew about me, so I approached her to ask for the details on calling hours. She went nuts.”

  “His wife knew he was having an affair?” She hadn’t said affair, but I put it out there. She nodded.

  Intriguing. Maybe little Mrs. McGee was mad enough to cause some damage after all.

  “Do you know Brady’s business partner, Perkins?”

  “No.”

  “He says he saw you fighting with Brady the night Brady died. What were you fighting about?”

  “He told me he’d leave his wife. He said it all the time, and I wanted to know when. Soon is not a date. I’m not getting any younger. A woman’s only got so many good eggs.”

  “Eggs?”

  She tilted her hips at me and tugged her purse high on one shoulder.

  “Oh.” Good grief. “So you gave him an ultimatum?”

  “Yeah.” Her jaw worked back and forth.

  “That’s got to be frustrating.” I looked around for Sebastian. “Were you mad enough to want him dead?”

  “What? No. I loved him.” Tears sprung up and rolled over her cheeks. “We had plans. Talk to his crazy wife. She threw me out of the store, nailed me with a high heel.” Her hand stroked one elbow and I thought of the scuff on Mrs. McGee’s heel. She’d need something bigger than that to kill him, plus a stepstool.

  “Did Brady ever mention anyone else who might’ve wanted to hurt him?”

  “Brady wasn’t what you’d call a people person. You know?”

  I knew.

  “Hey, what about his partner?” Tara said. “That guy’s a certifiable slime ball. He was always trying to get more money out of Brady. He tried to cheat and scheme every penny he could out of him. Between that Perkins guy and his wife, Brady never had a penny to spare. I had to get a job here to help save up. We were going to get a place somewhere far away from here.” She wiped her nose on her wrist.

  “I thought you didn’t know Perkins.”

  A shoulder lifted and fell. “I didn’t know him personally.”

  I stepped aside, biting my tongue. Tara was a flip-flopper. If selling women’s panties fell through, she might have a future in politics. She didn’t know Perkins when I asked, but she knew about him when it suited her. She ran when I mentioned her murdered ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t help wondering how much of what she said was true. One hundred percent true anyway. “If you ever want to talk.” I handed her a business card from my purse. “We can meet here. You don’t need to come to the island if it’s too painful.”

  She climbed into the truck, keeping an eye on me. “Sure.”

  “If you think of anything else that might help us find out who really killed Brady...”

  She nodded.

  “That went well.” Sebastian appeared at my side and I whacked him in the stomach. An eight-pack met my hand like a brick wall, ruining the effect I’d hoped for.

  “How do you do that? Where did you go?”

  “I was around. So now we know Brady’s partner was a sleaze working him over for money. Plus his wife knew he was cheating. I’d say we found solid motive for both of them and we know both had access to him on the night of his death. Of course, so did Tara.”

  “What about the means? He took a blow to the head. What was the murder weapon?”

  “Let’s go find out.” Sebastian clapped me on the back and directed me toward Neiman Marcus, where he bought new Ray-Bans on his way through men’s accessories.

  “You did want new glasses.”

  My phone buzzed and I grabbed it. I scrolled through a slew of texts and messages while Sebastian steered me to his Range Rover. “My car’s ready. Damage to my new office, thousands. One new Prius tire, two hundred dollars. Life on Adventure Island, priceless.”

  He wrenched the door open and shook his head at me. “You’re cute when you’re being weird.”

  “How about when I’m chasing down suspects and questioning them about murder?” I climbed in and waited.

  “That—” he braced his palms against the roof over my head, “—was very sexy.”

  When he folded his body behind the steering wheel, I filled him in on the rest of my texts. “My parents are worried about my safety. The sheriff says I still need to fill out some kind of paperwork about the shooting. The insurance company wants to come take pictures. My car is done. That’s two hundred bucks.”

  “You mentioned that.”

  “Lucy, the girl doing my old job, needs to know where to find the number for the company who provides coffee to the break room.”

  “Wow. I had no idea your work was so important.” He grinned and pulled
onto the road. “What do you think about Miss Sugar and Spice as a suspect?”

  “I think she’s grieving and afraid of something. She threw a stack of underpants at me.”

  He chuckled. “I saw that. You think she’ll call you?”

  “I don’t know, but I can’t believe Mrs. McGee knew Brady had a mistress. No wonder she didn’t look as distraught as I expected her to.”

  “You like the wife as the killer?”

  “No.” I hated to admit it, but I didn’t see her having killed him. Mistress or no mistress, if he was providing that level of shopping, he was a keeper. In fact, maybe the fancy shoes and bag were apology gifts for sleeping around.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sebastian looked at me. One wrist lay over the top of the steering wheel. He could’ve been lazing on a couch instead of zooming down the highway.

  “Louboutin and Marc Jacobs.”

  “Friends of yours?”

  “I wish. Can you please drop me off to get my car?”

  He slid his new Ray-Bans over pretty brown eyes and turned up the radio. I sent a text to my replacement about coffee and to the insurance adjuster agreeing to meet him in the morning at the boathouse. We crossed the bridge back to the island and a weight lifted. Whatever was happening, it was on my turf.

  “Don’t sneak off again tomorrow morning. I want to come with you to meet the adjuster.” He threw a palm up between us. “I want to make sure he is the adjuster, not someone up to no good.”

  My brain declared I was a full-grown, fully capable woman. My internal coward refused to argue. I shut my mouth and nodded.

  Sebastian decided to do some digging on his own for a while. He wanted to see what kind of record Perkins had. We agreed to meet later. I’d go home. Clean up. Rest. Ponder.

  “Here you go, 007.” He shifted into Park.

  The island mechanic worked from a pole barn in his backyard. Mills Westley had gone to high school with me. He was the kind of guy who picked his nose and stuck the findings under his desk. From the looks of things, it was in the genes.