by Emily Bishop
“I thought that you had influential friends, Skippy. I’m surprised they haven’t come for you. Perhaps they’re content to let you rot in here. I know I am.”
Still nothing. His black eyes bore holes in the ground, and I imagine if he could shoot laser beams, the floor would be engulfed in flames.
Much like Naomi’s restaurant.
The image of her destroyed kitchen fills me with new purpose, and I decide to try a different angle.
“I mean, I get it. If I were rejected by a woman, I’d think about setting her place on fire, too.”
Skippy looks up at me, his eyes filled with hatred. His lip twitches. “How could I have set the restaurant on fire if I was in here?”
“How do you know it was the restaurant and not her cottage I was referring to?”
His expression closes, and I check off a point for myself in my head. He’s admitted some knowledge of the arson, without realizing he was doing it.
Got you there, fucker.
I lean in and lower my voice. “I can get you out of here, you know. There would be stipulations, obviously, since we can’t have you attacking innocent women, but if you’re willing to talk, we can strike a deal. Maybe get you into one of those nicer prisons where they don’t like little white guys like you as much.”
His eyes widen at this, but he doesn’t look at me. “You’re full of shit. You have no power in this town. If you did, none of this crime would have ever happened. You are a nobody, a nothing. There are at least ten other men in charge of Stoneport before you. You’ll find that out when I’m out of here without you even knowing it.”
This time, he does look at me, and he leans in. The scent of his breath reminds me of his rancid trailer, and I hold my own breath, but I don’t back away.
“Unless you want a stake in this game?” he asks, his tone suggestive.
I stare at him and lift my eyebrows like I’m interested. “Go on,” I say.
He leans back against the wall, and I’m grateful because it means his stench is a little further away. “I’m sure we can cut a deal with you, make it worth your while. You let the odd yacht disappear here and there. It’s not like these rich assholes don’t have insurance for this kind of thing. And then you get a cut. Think of the nice house you could afford, maybe move Naomi in there.”
He’s talking real sweet, and he thinks he’s gaining ground. I realize with disgust that’s because this kind of talk has worked for him before. I scoot a little closer, indicating that I’m interested.
“And who do I talk to if I want to square this deal away?”
His eyes narrow as he looks at me. Shit, he’s wizened up to my game. “Me,” he says.
“OK, here you are, in a position of great power. Where’s my money?”
His pockets are empty. The man is a prisoner with nothing on him. He looks away then and stares back at the ground. “Fuck you, man. You had your chance.”
“You keep threatening me, but I have yet to see any actual harm coming my way.”
“Maybe it would have if Naomi was in the building.”
His words stop me cold. Would he and his gangster friends kill Naomi in order to teach me a lesson? If they did, I could never forgive myself, especially not for the way I’ve acted toward her.
“So, what you’re saying is Naomi isn’t one of your gang.”
I’m desperate for answers on this point, but I keep my expression neutral.
He scoffs. “Naomi’s a fucking bitch. We should have knocked her out ages ago and spared ourselves the drama.” Too late, Skippy realizes what he just said. He closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. “I’m done talking to you. Come back when it’s time to let me go.”
I’ve gotten all I can at this point, so I stand and walk to the door. When I get there, I turn back. “I would, but you’d probably starve to death. Have a great night, Skippy.”
“You don’t understand! I need to talk to him!” A woman’s voice echoes down the hall from the front of the station.
Curious, I walk in that direction until I step out into the open. There, Katie stands in front of James as he tries to calm her down. When her gaze crashes into mine, her shoulders slump with relief.
“Ben,” she breathes.
She rushes over to me—hug incoming? She stops short of where I am, and I’m a little relieved. I don’t know how to handle frantic women who get physical.
At least, not most women. One, I wouldn’t mind being here right about now. The thought of Naomi turns my blood cold. Why is Katie here?
“What’s happened?” I ask.
She pulls out her cell phone and unlocks it, and then she hands it to me. When I look down at the image, it’s a blur. I look back up at Katie in confusion. “What is this meant to be?”
“It’s a picture that Naomi sent me a little while ago. She said that she wanted someone else to have record of it, but she didn’t go into detail as to why. She said it might help find out who lit the fire, and then she said not to tell anyone until she could figure it out.”
I curse under my breath. Why won’t that stubborn woman trust me?
As much as you’ve trusted her?
Shut up, voice.
I look back down at the image and examine it. Naomi said that it’s a clue about who might have lit the fire, but could it also be tied to the yacht mystery—to all the happenings of the past week?
I zoom in on the image. Through the blur, I decipher the blue of the ocean in the background, the pink and purple sky above. This was taken at dusk, likely not long before I found Naomi at the dock that night. The black blur in the middle is roughly humanoid, but the only thing I make out is an arm.
I zoom in again.
On the arm’s wrist, the sleeve is slightly lifted, and there’s a tattoo. A distinctive tattoo, something that could work as a clue to help us solve all of this and be done with it.
I look up at Katie. “This is the proof we need to get us to the thieves. How did she find this?”
Katie wrings her fingers together as she looks from the phone and back to me. Her eyes are loaded with worry. “I don’t know. Here, this is the only thing she sent me.”
She scrolls up in a message until she reaches Naomi’s. I read it, and realize that there isn’t a lot to go on. Then I see the myriad of messages that Katie sent after that are still unanswered.
“She said she would keep her phone close by for messages, but this is all she sent. I’ve been texting and calling ever since, but she’s not answering. After everything we’ve been through, I’m scared something’s happened.”
I stare back down at the image and try to capture any more features that might help with the case. There’s no help for it. I’m going to need to go to Naomi’s tonight and make sure she’s OK.
“I would have gone down there to check on her, but I’m honestly too scared to go alone. She’s been big on not involving the cops this whole time, but you’ve been a big help to us, Ben. We need you now more than ever.”
Her words are uplifting, but I can’t bring myself to feel anything but a blossoming fear of my own.
I pat Katie on the shoulder. “Everything is going to be fine. We’re going to solve all of this and bring peace back to this town.”
“I know you will, just, can you please hurry? I have a bad feeling in my gut.”
I nod. “I completely understand. Do you feel safe staying here? Skippy is locked behind bars. He won’t be able to harm you in any way.”
Katie sighs. “I think I feel safer here than anywhere at this point. Can you please let me know she’s OK when you get there?”
“Yes, of course.”
I walk over to James. “We’ve got a situation here,” I say. He looks up and waits for my story. Was he not listening this entire time? “Naomi found an image of the man who robbed the yacht. Check it out.”
I hand the phone to him. His face is expressionless as he zooms in, just as I did, and looks at the picture from several different angles.
He shoots out of his seat and sets the phone on the counter.
“I’ve got this one, Sheriff. Maybe this time you stay behind.”
“What?” I ask, but James is already out the door.
I turn and look back at Katie. Clearly, I can’t stay behind, but I don’t want her left here feeling unsafe. Then again, there are plenty of officers still around at this hour. Late shifts, the dispatcher. She’ll be fine.
She glances at the door with a tilt of her chin. I hand Katie her phone back.
“Tilda’s on dispatch tonight. If you need anything, ask her. You can stay busy on James’s computer until we get back. Just no porn.”
That elicits the barest hint of a smile from her. “Noted. Now please go help my friend.”
“I will,” I say, and I strap on my holster on the way out.
I will.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Naomi
Jordan circles around to face me directly. His gun is trained on my face. I recognize the barrel of that gun.
It must be the same one he used on the yacht, when he stole it.
I think about escaping. Maybe I can jump out of my busted window and run to freedom. But, I’m not free. I never was.
With Jordan here, I’m not likely to be alive much longer either.
“What? Nothing to say for yourself? You’ve been terribly naughty,” Jordan taunts.
I glare up at him and stay silent.
“You’ve been such a disappointment through all of this, Naomi. The answer was quite simple, yet you ignored it. You defied me at every turn, when I gave you some pretty stern warnings. Should I have had your friend murdered instead? Would that have taught you a lesson?”
“Last I remember, you never sank that low.”
“Last you remember? How long ago was that? I’m a changed man, Naomi. My ambition grew. My talent matched it. Now I’m into some big-time deals, and you’re missing out. You’re missing out on everything.”
“If having a gun in my face makes me more included, feel free to count me out.”
“So sassy!” he says. The gun is still trained on me, and I can barely focus on his words, wondering with each passing second if it will be my last. At least if he shoots me in the head, it will be fast.
I don’t want to suffer before I die.
My phone buzzes beside me, and Jordan looks at it with annoyance.
“Who is that? Your fucking cop boyfriend?”
I don’t look at the phone. I’m scared if I do, he’ll shoot me, thinking that I’m trying to call for help. I already tried that tactic once and it didn’t work. That was with Skippy. Jordan is much more cunning.
“I don’t know.” I keep my eyes trained on him. “Jordan, why are you doing all this? You’re a talented man. You could have done so much more with your life.”
Jordan laughs, and there is no humor in the sound. “Yes, yes. You are so right. I could have opened up my own lobster boat and been a proper Maine man. I could have come home reeking of fish every night, and maybe if I had, I would have been considered good enough for you.”
“You could have done a lot to be considered good enough for me.”
“Please. You think you’re hot shit, but you’re nothing, Naomi. If you had been smart and stayed with me, you’d be riding in a beautiful yacht across the Atlantic right now. We could be balls deep, riding the waves, and each other.”
The thought of having sex with Jordan sends a wave of bile up my throat, and I swallow it down as I glare at him. “I’d rather have my brother out of jail, free from a crime he didn’t commit.”
Jordan laughs and twirls the gun around. “Naomi, come on! Get over it already. Alex was a loser. He was more of a low life than I was. If you could have accepted me for who I was back then, maybe he wouldn’t be in the situation he’s in now.”
“Are you seriously blaming me for what you did to Alex? You paid off the cops to make him take the fall for you! I saw it myself!”
“And yet you had no proof, if I remember correctly. It’s not nice to throw around accusations like that, Naomi. Your brother is not a nice man. He’s exactly where he belongs.”
“He’s where you belong. I’m in a position to see to that now.”
Jordan hisses between his teeth. “What a shame, what a shame. You do know far too much at this point. I’m going to have to take you away from here now so you can be properly disposed of.”
I swallow, and my throat has gone dry. He’s going to take me away to kill me. He leans in and breathes me in, like a fucking psycho. “Of course, you do have an alternative. I’ve been looking for a regular whore for a long time. Who says that can’t be you? I think that’s a pretty good deal. A lifetime of exceptional sex in exchange for not being killed. Don’t you think that’s a good deal?”
I spit on his shoes. Jordan’s eyes fill with anger and he leans back, his fist lifted to backhand me.
My front door opens again, and he turns and trains the gun on my hallway.
The lieutenant, James, rushes in, and relief washes over me. How did he know to find me? Did Katie go to the cops after I didn’t answer my phone? If she did, I owe her my life.
His eyes widen as he faces the barrel of Jordan’s gun. “Jesus, Jordan, put the fucking gun down.”
I blink. How does James know Jordan?
Jordan lowers his weapon and glares at the deputy. “What the fuck are you doing here, James? I thought you were keeping an eye on the station.”
“I was, but something’s happened. That bitch managed to get a photo of you on the yacht as you were stealing it. Your tattoo is clearly visible. It’s only a matter of time before Ben finds you out.”
Jordan turns back to me and lifts his fist again. “You took a fucking picture? I should have killed you on the spot!”
“That’s what I’ve been saying this whole damn time!”
James distracts Jordan, and he lowers his fist as I stare at them both in terrified disbelief.
I have a guy on the inside. Isn’t that what Jordan had said? I never pieced it together that James could be a corrupt cop. I thought Jordan was trying to scare me, to make me believe he had more connections here than he had.
Clearly, I was terribly mistaken.
“I don’t answer to you, cop,” Jordan hisses at James.
“I’m the reason you’ve gotten this far. This would have never happened if I’d been made sheriff. Now the public and Ben get what they deserve. A murder in their quaint little town. That should shake everyone up enough to get his ass fired.”
He’s grinning from ear to ear, like he’s won a huge victory. He doesn’t seem to realize that I’m not dead yet.
How do I keep that trend going?
“So, get rid of her already and get out of town. I’m telling you, he’s going to find you. He may be an asshole, but he was a trained soldier. He always bagged his man then, and he’ll do it now. I told him I’d handle this and ran out so he’d have to stay with the other one. I can’t imagine his ego will let him stay at the station for long. You need to get the fuck out.”
“He’s right. You wouldn’t want the sheriff finding a corrupt cop and the ring leader of the biggest crime den in the area admitting to all of their delinquencies.”
The sound of two guns cocking echo across the room, and my heart soars as Ben walks right in, a weapon trained on either man. They both look up at him in disbelief. Then Jordan comes to his senses and grabs me off the couch.
“No!” I scream, and I try to struggle, but he’s strong. Why did I always have a thing for the muscle heads? Why?
He holds me against his chest and trains the gun to my head before he looks back up at Ben. “I did warn her to stay away from all this, copper. Now you’ll both have to pay the price for her bad judgement.”
Ben’s eyes are hard as he stares at the gun pointed at my face. I want to cry, but I hold back my tears as I stare at him with desperation. His eyes lock on mine, and there is a silent message in them.
Struggle. Fight. Try and break free.
I stare at him with wide, frightened eyes. I don’t know if I’m brave enough to do this. How trigger happy is Jordan? If I struggle, I might die.
If I don’t, I might die.
There is no choice. I keep my eyes on Ben and count to three.
One.
Two.
Three!
I jab my elbow into Jordan’s gut. He’s so focused on Ben he doesn’t see it coming, and it buys me enough time to fall to the ground. When I do, two gunshots ring through the air, and I’m petrified that Jordan got a shot at Ben.
“Ben! No!”
My eyes are squeezed shut, and I force myself to pry them open. I’m so scared of what I might see. When I do open them, I find Jordan and James rolling on the ground. A pool of blood spreads across my pinewood floors.
I look up to see Ben staring down at them, ferocious and stunning, like a warrior angel. He looks to me and asks the question with his eyes.
Are you all right?
I nod, and that’s all he needs. He steps over to James and reaches for a pair of handcuffs. He tugs James’s arms behind him, and the man screams in agony.
“Oh, come now, James. I only shot you both in the shoulder. You’ll heal in no time. I hear prison doctors are some of the best.”
He claps irons on James and leaves him face down on the ground, and then he moves to Jordan. This time, he’s even less gentle. He shoves Jordan’s face into the ground as he cuffs him then leans down to speak close to his ear.
“You’ve fucked with this town enough. You’ve tortured Naomi enough. She is under my protection, and so is everyone else in Stoneport.”
“You’re so full of shit, copper. I’ll get out like I always do. There’s no evidence.”
“Is that your usual line? Because I’ve already sent Naomi’s picture to every paper in town, and the mayor’s office. There’s enough copies to go around, and let me see here.”
Ben slides up Jordan’s sleeve. There on his wrist is the tattoo, an identical match to the image I took.
“Looks like we do have evidence. Do you want to try and bribe me now or later?”
