“Hey, don’t blame this on me.” Galen waved his spatula. “It’s not my fault she made the water dance. She knows it drives me crazy.”
“Is that a euphemism for something?”
The conversation was starting to make me excessively uncomfortable. “No, it’s not. I think we should table this discussion. You’re here early, Wesley, so I’m assuming that means you need something.”
“I definitely need something,” Wesley agreed. “I needed to know that you were all right. I heard someone died on the beach the other day — a young woman with dark hair — and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t you.”
I frowned. “You could’ve called.”
“If it was her I would’ve called you,” Galen pointed out. “I wouldn’t have just left you twisting in the wind.”
“If it was her I expect you wouldn’t be able to remember how to operate a phone,” Wesley countered. “I was just making sure because nobody bothered to call me and say she was okay.”
Ugh. This family stuff was getting complicated. “I apologize. I didn’t really think about it, especially since the story made the news.”
“I didn’t see that,” he countered. “I just heard from one of my workers that a young woman was dead and Hadley’s cart was seen on the beach that night. I was worried.”
“Oh.” Realization dawned. “I’m sorry.” I really was. “The cart was out there because Galen and I took it to dinner. We stopped at the beach on the way back to make sure things were progressing for the festival. We found the body.”
“Well, that explains that.” Wesley climbed onto one of the counter stools and inclined his head toward the coffee pot. I automatically headed in that direction to pour him a mug. “May said you were fine, but I’m mad at her so I didn’t believe her.”
“Why are you mad at her?” Galen asked.
“She made an absolutely ridiculous suggestion,” Wesley replied. “I’ve never heard anything so stupid in my entire life.”
I swallowed hard. “Um ... that suggestion didn’t have anything to do with June, did it?”
Wesley’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “How do you know that?”
“The suggestion might’ve come from me.” I felt put on the spot. “I didn’t think there was any harm in making the request. I just ... don’t want you to be alone, and June mentioned that she’d always had a crush on you. I thought dinner and a movie might be good for both of you.”
Wesley immediately started shaking his head. “Kid, I’m glad you’re in my life and I’m enjoying getting to know you, but stay out of my personal life.”
“But I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t. I’m capable of taking care of myself. And while June might be a nice woman, she’s not my type.”
“Who is your type?”
“Your grandmother, who I was angry with because I thought she was making the suggestion because she was tired of me. Turns out she made it because you’re a pain in the butt. Now I have to apologize. I hate apologizing.”
I wrinkled my nose and flicked my eyes to Galen, who looked to be thinking hard. About what, though? Normally he would find a situation like this funny. Apparently that was not true today. “Well, I’m sorry,” I said finally. “The suggestion came from a place of love. I won’t do it again.”
“Fair enough.” Wesley awkwardly patted my hand. “Don’t get worked up about it. It’s not the end of the world. What else is going on around here? Any other gossip to spread?”
“Just that the festival on the beach is a total disaster,” I replied. “Alastair Herne is in the wind. He’s either dead or took a bunch of money and fled. We’re not sure which, but we’re fairly certain his disappearance ties in with Salma’s death. I think that’s it.”
“I think that’s enough.”
“Oh, and that singer is missing, too. Calliope. We can’t find her even though her belongings are still in her hotel room.”
“Maybe she’s out at her cabin,” he suggested.
“What cabin?”
Galen looked up from the stove. “Yeah. What cabin?”
“You’re talking about the blond singer with the song about the thong, right?”
I was horrified. “How do you know about the thong song?”
“I know things ... and my men mentioned it. Apparently she wore a diamond thong in the video or something. They were all excited when she arrived on the island. They were even more excited when she bought the old Ingalls cabin out by the lake.”
That meant absolutely nothing to me. Apparently it was of interest to Galen, though.
“I didn’t know she bought that cabin,” Galen said. “When?”
“She closed, like, two weeks ago. I’ve seen her out there a few times since. I think she’s just been cleaning up and making some plans for renovations or something. I haven’t seen her out there after dark or anything.”
“Still.” Galen’s eyes were thoughtful when they locked with mine. “Do you want to go for a ride after breakfast?”
“Are we going on a pop star hunt?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’m in.”
“I figured as much.” He started doling out slices of French toast onto plates. “Are we all good here? Everybody has made up and is happy, right?”
“Nobody was fighting,” Wesley countered. “I just feel I’m old enough to figure out my own romantic entanglements.”
“On that we can agree. Okay, breakfast is ready. Everybody dig in. It’s going to be another long day.”
13
Thirteen
I brooded over Wesley’s gentle slapdown as Galen drove to the cabin. He seemed to know where he was headed.
“You need to let it go,” Galen advised, his eyes on the road. He obviously wasn’t a big fan of my pouting. “Wesley is an adult. He’s allowed to make decisions for himself.”
“Did I say he wasn’t?” I challenged. “It’s just ... I don’t want him to be lonely. I just found him and I read this article about people who lose long-term partners. Sometimes they lose the will to live in the process. I don’t want that to happen to him.”
“I get that. The thing is, he didn’t really lose May. They’re still hanging out together.”
“But how fulfilling can that possibly be? They can’t touch ... or hold one another ... or hang out in public. I don’t want Wesley to become some hermit who never leaves his house because the ghost of his dead wife is there.”
Galen snorted. “I bet that’s a sentence you never thought you’d say.”
“You have no idea. I’m being serious.”
“I know you are. I think it’s kind of cute.”
“I’m not trying to be cute.”
“For some, it’s effortless.” He winked at me, but when I continued to scowl he heaved out a sigh. “Listen, I get that you’re worried about him. You don’t know him all that well. Your bond is growing, which is great, but you still don’t know all the Wesley stories. He was never that social, even when May was alive.”
“I still don’t like it.” I stubbornly folded my arms over my chest and stared out the window, watching as the foliage blurred. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want my grandfather to be happy. I mean ... if something happens to me, I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life hanging out with my ghost.”
He didn’t immediately respond, and when I looked to him I found him watching me with unreadable eyes. “What?”
“I don’t like you making jokes about dying,” he said finally, turning to watch the road. “I don’t happen to find it funny.”
“It wasn’t a joke. It’s not as if I plan on being reckless or anything. I don’t want to die. But if the unthinkable happens I want you to be happy.”
“And what if I say there is no happiness without you?”
“I would say that’s sweet but impractical. I don’t want you to be alone.”
He worked his jaw, a muscle ticking. “Listen, I don’t like this conversation.
Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it. We should just drop it.”
That wasn’t in my nature. “Are you saying that you would want me to pine over you for the rest of my life if something terrible happened and I lost you?” Even as I said the words my heart filled with a sick sense of dread. I didn’t want to even think of a scenario in which he wouldn’t be a part of my life. That’s how much I’d come to rely on him.
“I would definitely want you to pine,” he said without hesitation. “I would want you to become a shell of a person, someone who locks herself in the lighthouse and shuts out the rest of the world while eating ice cream from a cardboard container and not washing your hair for two weeks straight.”
I rolled my eyes. “You talk big, but that’s not what you would want.”
“It is. I would also want you to shoot Booker when he inevitably comes sniffing around after what he deems a proper time of mourning ... because I guarantee that would happen. Wait, shooting him is too kind. You should curse him so his penis falls off, maybe as a memorial to me so I know you’ll always love me.”
I didn’t want to encourage him, but I couldn’t stop from laughing. “I see you’ve given this some thought.”
“Actually, it just came to me. I guess I’m gifted when it comes to thinking of retribution for Booker.”
“I guess so.” I groaned as I went back to staring out the window, my lips curving when I felt Galen’s hand creep over the console so he could link his fingers with mine. “Would you come back as a ghost to be with me?”
“Yes.”
“Is that because you would want to spend time with me or torture Booker?”
“I can multi-task.”
I squeezed his hand. This talk of death was starting to depress me. It was time to change the subject. “Do you think we’ll find Calliope at this cabin?”
“I don’t know.” He turned serious. “I didn’t even realize she’d purchased the cabin. It doesn’t strike me as the sort of place a star would want to live in.”
“Why?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s run down, but it’s not a fancy space with a lot of amenities. The electrical system is old and needs a total upgrade. On top of that, it’s surrounded by woods. The nearest store is in town. It’s not convenient for someone like her.”
“That sounds a little judgmental. I think you’re just prejudiced against diamond thongs.”
“I have no problem with diamond thongs. In fact, if you want to parade around in one twenty-four hours a day that would be the greatest thing ever.”
“I think that would chafe.”
“That’s your problem. I’m just suspicious about Calliope’s motivations for buying this place. Even if she really did want to purchase a vacation home here — which seems unlikely given the fact that she doesn’t know anyone on the island other than Alastair — why would she want to live out in the middle of nowhere? Wouldn’t it make sense to purchase one of those timeshare rentals at one of the hotels?”
“Maybe she likes privacy. Maybe the woods make her want to write music. Maybe she’s deeper than we thought.”
“Yes. The diamond thong song clearly speaks to depth.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “We don’t know anything about her. Besides, I’m not entirely convinced we’re going to find a vain and shallow woman hanging around in the woods.”
“No?” He arched an eyebrow. “What do you think we’ll find?”
“Maybe a dead woman. I mean ... if Alastair really is covering his tracks before running Calliope might be someone who needs to be silenced.”
Galen’s mouth flattened into a grimace. “I’m a little worried about that myself. When we get there, I want you to stay in the truck until I make sure things are safe. Are we clear?”
“Yeah.” I agreed even though I had no intention of staying behind. If he was going in hot, so was I. He simply didn’t need to know that until it was too late for him to do anything about it.
IT TOOK US TWENTY MINUTES TO get to the cabin. It was off the main highway, buried deep on a winding dirt road. When we pulled to a stop in front we found the area quiet.
“It looks empty,” I said as I unfastened my seatbelt.
“Yeah.” Galen tilted his head and stared into the trees behind the cabin. “Stay here. Keep the doors locked.” He pressed the keys into my hand. “If something happens, head straight to Wesley’s place. It’s only five miles from here.”
I stared at the keys for an extended beat, my face blank. “Are you saying you want me to abandon you if something attacks?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Well, that won’t happen.” I slapped the keys back in his hand and reached for the door handle. “If there’s something out there we’ll fight it together. That’s what being partners means.”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “You said that you would wait here until I cleared the scene.”
“No, I agreed we were clear when you were issuing orders. I didn’t agree to follow orders.”
“Listen here ... .” He lifted a finger, probably to start shaking it, but his attention was diverted to the opening front door. There, her hair disheveled and her top hanging off a bare shoulder, stood Calliope.
She looked a little worse for wear.
“Well, at least she’s not dead,” I offered, smiling brightly.
“You’re a pain,” Galen muttered as he pushed open his door and hopped out. He was in official mode now, which meant the argument would have to wait until we were alone. I was fine with that. I was becoming a master of distracting him when he wanted to bicker. Sometimes I believed he knew what I was doing and simply didn’t care. “Hello, Calliope,” he called out, his eyes returning to scan the foliage. Eventually content that we were alone, he took a step in her direction. “I’m Sheriff Galen Blackwood. We met the other night. Do you remember?”
“Um ... .” Calliope looked genuinely confused. Her makeup was smeared under her eyes, which were puffy and red-rimmed, and she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra because her assets were on display as she bent over to rub her hands on her knees, giving Galen a clear view of everything she had to offer.
“She’s a total slut,” I hissed as I moved to his side. “Like ... a complete and total slut.”
This time the look he shot me was full of amusement. He shuttered it quickly. “We have some things to talk about, Calliope.” He was firm. “We need you to get it together.”
“Do you have coffee in there?” I asked.
“Coffee?” Calliope furrowed her brow. “Oh, yeah. I have coffee. I was just about to make some.”
I flashed a smile that I didn’t really feel and started toward the cabin. “How about I make that coffee? You should run into the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face.” And put on a bra, I silently added. “You’re going to need to be more coherent for this conversation.”
“Okay,” she replied dumbly, her eyes on me. “Have we met?”
“You met me the same night you met Sheriff Blackwood.”
“I don’t remember you.”
“Do you remember him?”
“Yeah.” She bobbed her head. “He’s hard to forget.”
Yup. I should’ve seen that coming.
CALLIOPE TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN should’ve been necessary in the bathroom. Galen and I had started arguing about which of us was going to check on her.
“It has to be you.” He was adamant. “You have the same parts as her so you’re used to seeing them.”
That was the most ludicrous argument I’d ever heard. “You’ve seen my parts and you seem comfortable enough with them.”
“Yes, but those are your parts. I don’t want to see her parts.”
That was both a comfort and annoying. “Fine.” I made a face as I moved to stand from the table. “If she’s dead in there I’ll never forgive you.”
“Fair enough. I ... .”
The door opened and Calliope strolled
out. She’d washed her face, changed her clothes and applied a whole new mask of makeup. I was dumbfounded.
“It took you long enough,” Galen complained, his eyes flashing. “We’re here on official business. We have a schedule to keep to, and you’ve thrown that into disarray.”
Calliope didn’t look bothered by the assessment. “I apologize. I’m a night owl. I was up late last night and I just needed to freshen up.” The look she shot Galen was sultry ... and despite the work she’d done on her face to erase the dregs of a long night she still wasn’t wearing a bra. “You’re the sheriff? That sounds like an interesting job. I’ve been considering writing a song about law enforcement. Perhaps we should put our heads together. You would make a fabulous star for the video.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Galen inclined his chin toward the chair across from him. “Please sit down. We have some things to discuss.”
“So serious.” Calliope blew him an air kiss, which caused me to grit my teeth, and then sat. She was putting on a good show, but the momentary flash of pain that invaded her eyes told me she was feeling nothing but discomfort this morning. “Hangover?” I queried.
“I’m pure of body and soul,” she countered. “I don’t drink.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth as I glanced at the counter, where three empty wine bottles rested. She noticed and frowned.
“Wine isn’t liquor. It’s natural ... and it’s good for you.”
“If you say so.”
Galen cleared his throat to get her attention. “I don’t really care how much you had to drink last night. As long as you weren’t out driving, it doesn’t matter to me. We’re here on a different matter. I need to know when you last talked to Alastair.”
Calliope’s eyebrows drew together. “Why do you want to know about Alastair? If you have questions for him, you should ask him.”
“I would like to but he’s disappeared,” Galen replied. “We’re not sure where he is, whether he left voluntarily or was killed by the same individual who took out Salma. All we know is that he’s left a mess with that festival, and it’s officially become your responsibility to clean it up.”
Hex Type Thing Page 12
