Hex Type Thing

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Hex Type Thing Page 9

by Amanda M. Lee


  “Ah. I do know what a retweet is. I just don’t care. I was hoping you might be able to track down someone who issued a threat or something over Twitter in regard to the Tweet. That’s what I’m looking for.”

  He couldn’t be serious. “No one is going to issue a death threat over the internet ... unless he or she is mentally ill or looking for attention. Our killer would have to be an idiot to do that, and given the way you’re spinning your wheels, I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with.”

  His lips curved down. “So ... what are we dealing with?”

  “A very-well-thought-out plan of attack. Salma and her little cohorts manufactured an event completely on their own, which is probably why Alastair hired her in the first place. He must’ve known what she could do. Has he returned your phone call, by the way?”

  Galen’s scowl grew more pronounced. “No. The little ferret is hiding. I think he’s screening my call.”

  “Of course he’s screening your call. He doesn’t want to talk to you. He knows it’s going to get ugly, and now that there’s been a murder you have a lot more leverage if you want to shut things down.”

  “I also have people on the beach,” he reminded me. “It would’ve been easier to put up signs and stop things before that happened. Now, they’ve taken over and I don’t have enough men to control things if they decide to get rowdy.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. He really was in a pickle. “I’ll protect you,” I volunteered. “I’ll make the water dance to distract them and we’ll make a run for it if things get out of control.”

  He snickered and shook his head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have you found anything else in the social media stuff?”

  “There’s a lot to dig through.”

  “That’s why I turned it over to you, my diligent, hard-working, witchy queen.”

  “Oh, that was way over-the-top.”

  “I knew I would finally get there.” His grin eased. “I can’t help but think there’s an answer here, or at least a direction to look that I’m not seeing because I don’t pay attention to the technology. I don’t even have a Facebook profile.”

  “No, but you’re all over my profile.”

  His eyebrows hopped. “I am?”

  I nodded. “I call you my beefcake beauty and post photos of you shirtless on the beach to make all the women I went to high school with jealous. They don’t believe we’re dating, but I keep posting photos to torture them.”

  He laughed so hard he almost choked. “That’s absolutely lovely, sweetheart. I can’t tell you how much that inflates my ego.”

  “Glad to be of service.”

  “What’s your next step with the accounts?”

  “I need to figure out a way to sort them. I might have to give that some thought before tackling it again. There has to be a way to do it that I’m not seeing.”

  “Well, the department appreciates your help no matter how you get things done.”

  “And I appreciate the department.”

  His eyes grew heavy-lidded and I thought he was going to say something sexy, but the phone on his desk rang, ruining the moment and causing both of us to jolt.

  “Hello,” he growled into the receiver, his eyes holding mine. He listened for a full minute before sighing and pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “I’ll head out there right now. Just try to keep things in line until I get there.”

  I watched him expectantly as he hung up.

  “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to help me stand. “If we’re going to be partners on this one we need to do everything as a unit. That includes heading out to the beach together.”

  Oh, well, now we were talking. “Do you want me to read minds?”

  “No. I want you to make the water dance in case things get out of control and we have to run. Apparently the guests are getting restless and there’s some sort of mutiny afoot. We need to check it out.”

  Who doesn’t love a mutiny? “Absolutely. I’m sort of anxious to see what’s going down.”

  “You and me both.”

  WE TOOK MY GOLF CART BECAUSE it was small enough that we could drive on the sidewalks. It was also sturdy enough to navigate the choppy sand of the beach. This way we had an escape hatch should things get ugly.

  I thought he was probably expecting the worst for no good reason, but I figured it was wise to keep my opinion to myself. I was glad I followed that route when I got a gander at what was going down, because it turned out I was the one who was wrong ... and Goddess, do I hate being wrong.

  “I want to speak to the president of this island right now!” A woman, her skirt long and flowing, stood in the center of a huge crowd and screamed demands at one of Galen’s deputies. The man, who I recognized as Tom Stickney, looked as if he would prefer finding a hole to crawl into.

  “We don’t have a president, ma’am,” Tom replied calmly. I had to give him credit, he didn’t as much as raise his voice a note as he regarded the demanding woman. “That’s not how things operate here.”

  “No? Then I want to talk to whoever is in charge.”

  Before Tom could answer, Galen inserted himself in the conversation.

  “As far as you’re concerned, that would be me,” he called out. “What seems to be the trouble, ma’am?”

  “Eleanor Torkelson.” She stuck out her limp-at-the-wrist hand and I thought for a moment she expected him to kiss it. “And who might you be?”

  “Sheriff Galen Blackwood. What can I do for you?”

  “You’re awfully young to be a sheriff,” Eleanor muttered, briefly shifting her eyes to me before turning back to him. It was obvious she figured he had more authority than me.

  “Have you looked around?” she challenged, hands landing on ample hips. “This place is an absolute mess. There aren’t enough bathrooms. The food that was promised to us in the form of carts and trucks isn’t present. There’s a man down the way selling bottles of water for five dollars each — and we’re talking teeny, tiny bottles of water — and there’s no access to showers.”

  Galen scrubbed his cheek and frowned. “I don’t understand. Why did you think you would have access to showers?”

  “That’s what the festival brochure says.”

  He slid his eyes to me, uncertain. “Um ... I don’t suppose you have one of those brochures?”

  “I do.” She preened as she handed over the item in question.

  I was curious enough that I moved closer so I could read with him. What I found on the shiny pages was troubling. “That says there will be grills located around the beach and ample access to seafood for crab leg feasts.”

  “That’s another thing,” Eleanor snapped. “I haven’t seen a single crab.”

  “I’m sure there will be lots of crabs spread about the beach before this is all said and done,” I quipped, earning a stern glare from Eleanor for my effort. “Of course, those aren’t the crabs you’re interested in.”

  Galen’s lips quirked but he managed to hold it together ... just barely. “Ma’am, I don’t know what to tell you about this. I mean ... very little promised in this brochure is feasible. Who here from the festival is in charge?”

  Her expression was incredulous. “Um ... I think that would be you.”

  “And I think you’re dreaming,” he shot back. “I’m not in charge of this festival. It’s not an official Moonstone Bay event. There’s a festival team in charge of things. Where are they?”

  Her face was blank. “How should I know? You’re the one in charge. You’re the one who needs to figure it out.”

  He worked his jaw and swung his eyes to me. “Well, this is just great.”

  “What about the hotels?” I asked. “Can we move some of the people there?”

  “The hotels are sold out,” Eleanor replied. “Trust me. Once I saw the setup here, I started calling around. There’s not a room to be had for anyone.”

  That didn’t bode well.

  “I bet you’re glad I put signs
up on your beach now,” Galen muttered, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair. “If I didn’t, you would’ve had people sleeping on your patio.”

  “I’m forever in your debt,” I drawled. “What are we going to do about this situation, though? This is ... bad.”

  “I knew it was going to be bad before anybody else.”

  “Yes, that’s the thing to focus on. You were right and everybody else was wrong. Poof. The situation is fixed.”

  He growled. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know who to call.”

  “I think you’d better figure it out before there’s a riot.”

  10

  Ten

  “What are you going to do?” I asked Galen after we managed to put a little distance between ourselves and the angry festival attendees. He looked as lost as I felt.

  “I’m going to find Alastair.” He was firm. “This is his mess.”

  “Yeah, well ... good luck with that.” I plucked the brochure out of his hand and gave it a better look. They spared no expense on the printed product. The festival, however, looked nothing like what was advertised. “Will you look at this? There’s even a page for villas here. If you’re willing to pay fifty grand for the week you get access to a twenty-thousand-foot villa. Whose villa are they using?”

  Galen frowned as he snatched back the brochure. “That place isn’t on this island. I don’t know where it’s at, but ... I would recognize this house if it were on Moonstone Bay.”

  “Which probably means that it’s a stock photo.” My mind was going a mile a minute. “The hotels are sold out. There are thousands of people on the beach and there aren’t enough tents or bathrooms. This is going to be bad.”

  “Oh, really? What was your first clue?” Sarcasm rolled off him in waves. I understood his frustration, and what it stemmed from — he did warn everybody about this, after all — so I didn’t hold the snarky response against him. That didn’t mean I was willing to sit back and serve as his verbal punching bag. Luckily, he realized he was out of control right away.

  “I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in capitulation. “I didn’t mean to snap at you that way. It’s not fair to you. Not even a little. I just ... what am I going to do?”

  He looked bewildered and I felt genuinely sorry for him. “You’re going to find Alastair and Calliope,” I replied without hesitation. “They’re the only people who can fix this.”

  He was incredulous. “How are they going to fix this? They promised things that don’t exist.”

  “At the very least they can refund the money ... though that’s not going to help people who spent a lot on airfare. At least refunding the festival money is a start. It might be enough to placate some of the guests. I don’t know the flight situation going out of here, though. Something tells me they can’t fit all of these people on one plane.”

  “Not even close.” Galen was grim as he rolled his neck and stared at the water. “There are no boats due for at least three days. This is a nightmare.”

  We needed to find solutions. “Find Alastair and Calliope. I’ll see if I can calm down the people here.”

  He balked. “I’m not leaving you with these people. They’re angry ... and they’ll see you as a person of authority because you were with me and they assumed I was in charge. I’m not risking you getting hurt.”

  That was sweet, but I wasn’t worried about the group turning into a mob just yet. “If you’re really worried, assign me some backup ... like maybe Booker. He might be able to rein in the women at least.”

  Galen extended a finger, his eyes flashing. “That, baby, is a very smart idea.” He dug in his pocket for his phone. “Booker can control emotions. He can handle the women. That leaves the men, but if the women are happy, the men will be happy, too ... at least for a few hours.”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering. “Are you happy when I’m happy?”

  “Um, yeah. You make the water dance. What’s not to like about that?”

  He had a point.

  BOOKER ARRIVED TEN MINUTES LATER. Galen refused to leave my side until he was reasonably certain I wouldn’t be alone in case of an emergency.

  “Watch her,” he instructed Booker, grave. “These people are losing their heads.”

  “Oh, and here I thought you didn’t care,” Booker drawled. “It’s gratifying to know that you love me enough to put me in charge of your girlfriend in case an angry mob attacks.”

  Galen’s expression was withering. “If something happens to her I’ll do the same to you. That’s a promise.”

  “Got it.” Booker waved off the threat, apparently unbothered. His eyes were busy as he scanned the crowd. “They don’t look happy.”

  “They’re ticked,” Galen corrected. “I need to track down Alastair and Calliope. This is their mess. Until I do, try to help as best you can. I know there’s very little you can do, but a lot of these people just want someone to listen to them vent.”

  “Fair enough.” Booker’s hands landed on his narrow hips as two women, who looked to be in their early twenties and sporting some of the tiniest bikini tops I’d ever seen, starting giggling and winking at him. “It might not be so bad.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, great. Now I get to watch all the women fall all over him. This is turning into a great day.”

  Galen snickered. “You’ll be fine. He’ll take care of you.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss. “If things get hairy, don’t hesitate to run. I’m leaving you the golf cart just in case and walking back to get my truck. If you feel something bad is about to happen, I want you to head home and lock yourself inside. I’ll catch up with you eventually.”

  I didn’t have to be a mind reader to take the temperature of the crowd. “They’re not quite there yet. They haven’t roughed it on the beach overnight yet. Things aren’t going to get really bad until tomorrow.”

  “Well, here’s hoping I can find Alastair and beat him until he agrees to give these people what they need. That’s the only thing we have to offer.”

  “Then you’d best get to it.” I flashed a smile and watched as he took off at a jog in the direction of the police station. He set a brisk pace, which meant he was serious about finding Alastair. I hoped he wasn’t serious about hurting him.

  “How do you want to handle this?” Booker asked.

  When I turned back to him, I found he was looking over a buxom blonde who had caught his eye. “Knock that off,” I ordered, elbowing him in the stomach. “Now is not the time for you to hunt for a new conquest. We have serious problems.”

  Booker rubbed his stomach. “Okay. There’s no need to be vicious. What exactly are we dealing with here?”

  I handed him the brochure and watched as he flipped through it.

  “Well, this isn’t good,” he said finally. “I can’t believe Alastair promised them villas ... and trampolines, though this photo of women in string bikinis bouncing on trampolines is genius.”

  “It’s disgusting is what it is.” I snatched back the brochure. “These people were sold something that was impossible to deliver. It’s not as if Alastair actually thought he would be able to provide these things and somehow fell behind through no fault of his own. This was impossible to deliver from the start.”

  “So ... why did he promise it?” Booker mused. “It’s worrisome, isn’t it?”

  I could think of a few other words to describe it. “It’s a scam.”

  “Shh.” Booker’s eyes filled with fire as he glanced around to see who was listening. Thankfully, even though quite a few people were staring no one was invading our space to eavesdrop. “You need to be very careful using that word,” he admonished. “If the tourists hear you use it they’ll start using it ... and that will be bad.”

  “How could things possibly get worse?”

  “Oh, things can always get worse.” He exhaled heavily and straightened his back. “Well, first things first. I think we should tackle the things we actually can help them with.”

&n
bsp; “And what would that be? You don’t happen to have a villa stashed in your back pocket, do you?”

  He snorted. “No, but I do have a contact in the city who can get the rest of those Porta-Potties here.”

  Relief flooded through me. “Really? That actually will help.”

  “What will also help is food,” he said. “Do me a favor and call Lilac. Tell her that we need some food trucks down here or things are going to get ugly. She’ll know who to call.”

  I was dubious, but game. “Okay. What do we do after that?”

  “Pray that’s enough to placate most of these people and hope that Galen finds Alastair. We need someone to throw to the wolves. The inept festival organizer seems a good bet.”

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, BOOKER HAD A team delivering Porta-Potties within thirty minutes. A cheer went up from the crowd when they saw what was happening, which seemed like a sad commentary on this particular event.

  Lilac also came through, arranging for no less than thirty food trucks to arrive at the beach. She followed soon after, leaving the bar in the capable hands of her workers and joining us in an effort to keep the crowd calm.

  “This is a mess,” she noted as she glanced around.

  “No, this is a dream vacation,” Booker countered.

  Lilac elbowed him sharply. “Sarcasm isn’t necessary.”

  “If I don’t have sarcasm to use as a crutch I have absolutely nothing.”

  My lips twitched as I glanced around. The festival-goers were still in foul moods as they lined up to order food, but nobody looked to be melting down. That was a good thing, which I believed ... right up until I saw Eleanor heading in our direction. “This isn’t going to be good.”

  Booker shifted his gaze to study the incoming complaint missile and then offered up a genuine smile. He didn’t look bothered in the least by the potential for mayhem. “I’ve got her. Don’t you worry one little bit.”

 

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