Beach Blanket Homicide

by Maria Geraci

  Someone in the FBI must have a big mouth because soon there are enough hitmen in town to make Whispering Bay look like a reunion site for The Sopranos. Then someone starts whacking the hitmen. As the body count begins to rise, Lucy realizes she has to step up to the plate. Travis needs Joey to stay alive long enough to testify, and Lucy wants her quaint little town back, minus the mobsters.

  With the help of her best friend, Will, and her rescue dog, Paco, Lucy and Travis set out to discover who’s behind all the hits, because if they don’t, Whispering Bay may never be the same again. Ba-da-Bing. Ba-da-Boom.

  Whack The Mole

  Sneak Peek

  The thing about being a human lie detector is that people will surprise you with the strangest fabrications at the oddest times. Take right now. Rusty Newton, one of Whispering Bay’s finest, is looking straight at me, and he’s just told me a whopper.

  I shift my weight from foot to foot. I’ve been standing behind this counter for over three hours without a break. It’s the busiest morning we’ve had all week. And it’s been a record-breaking week here at The Bistro by the Beach, the café I own along with my partner, Sarah Powers. Probably because I’ve become a bit of a celebrity. A small-town celebrity to be sure, but when you’re responsible for nabbing one of America’s most sought-after serial killers, people want to come and gawk at you.

  Not that I mind the gawking. Like I said, it’s been terrific for business.

  “You want how many muffins again?” I ask Rusty.

  “A dozen.” He pulls a piece of paper from the front pocket of his uniform shirt. Rusty Newton is in his mid-forties and has been a cop here in town forever. He’s super sweet but not the brightest bulb on the force. “And five lattes, four turkey sandwiches and six of those oatmeal raisin cookies that Sarah makes.”

  “And this is for the crew back at the police station?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Who else would I be getting such a big order for?”

  Not for the Whispering Bay police department, that’s for sure. For one thing, Zeke Grant, the chief-of-police, has already been in this morning for his coffee and muffin fix. And Cindy, the police department receptionist, is on a diet. She hasn’t caught so much as even a whiff of one of my muffins in weeks.

  But that’s not what gave Rusty away.

  It’s the little hairs on the back of my neck. Whenever I hear a lie, they automatically start to tingle.

  Being able to sniff out lies is a gift I’ve had ever since I can remember. A gift I never appreciated until a few days ago, when it helped me solve the murder of Abby Delgado, a prominent member of the Sunshine Ghost Society, a local club that claims to commune with the dead. But that’s another story.

  I punch his order into the computer. “Is this all to go?”

  He grins in his goofy Rusty way. But before he can answer, another one of Whispering Bay’s finest comes up to the counter. “What’s to go?” asks Travis Fontaine.

  Travis is the newest member of the force, and he looks almost as yummy as one of my double chocolate chip muffins. I wish I could say it was the uniform, but it’s not.

  Travis is six foot three with dark blond hair and fierce green eyes. The women in town think that he looks a lot like Ryan Reynolds. He spent eight years on the Dallas police force before moving out here to live near his dad, Jim, a retired homicide detective, all of which makes Travis a good son.

  He’s also arrogant and the easiest person I’ve ever read in my life. Not because his face gives anything away. On the contrary. Travis has a poker face that could make him a bundle in Vegas. It’s just that for some reason, where he’s concerned, my Spidey sense is on ultra-alert.

  “Rusty just put in a quite an order,” I say. “Is the police department having a party?”

  Travis doesn’t even twitch. “No party. Just a bunch of hungry cops.”

  Right.

  I have to admit, this little lie of theirs has me intrigued.

  “It’ll take a few minutes to get that order together.”

  “No problem.” Travis leans into the counter. “So, how’s your head?”

  “Still a little sore, but I’ll live, thanks.”

  My head met up with the backside of a frying pan a few days ago. I still shudder whenever I think about how close I came to being the Angel of Death’s latest victim. Good thing my little dog, Paco, was there to save me.

  Speaking of Paco, he has his own unique form of Spidey sense, because he runs up to me like he knows I’m thinking about him. “Hey, little guy!”

  I inherited the chihuahua terrier mix when I solved the murder of his former owner, Susan Van Dyke. His name used to be Cornelius, but that was way too stuffy, so he’s Paco now. The members of the Sunshine Ghost Society think that he’s a ghost whisperer. Which, of course, is silly, but like I said, he’s special. It’s almost like he can understand what the humans around him are saying.

  I’m allergic to dogs with fur, but after all we’ve been through, there’s no way I’m giving him up, so I’m on medication to keep from itching. It’s not supposed to make me drowsy, but it still does sometimes. Still, it’s a small price to pay for being able to keep him. I live in the apartment above the café, and he spends his days going up and down the stairs between our home and The Bistro’s dining area. The customers love his cute antics, and Sarah finds him adorable as well.

  Paco runs around to the other side of the counter to greet Travis. “Hey, boy.” Travis squats down to scratch him behind the ears.

  According to Lanie Miller, one of my closest friends and the manager of the Whispering Bay Animal Shelter, Travis is on the lookout for a dog. I try to imagine what kind of dog would go best with his personality. Probably a rottweiler. Or a pit bull.

  Travis rises to his full height and gives Rusty a side look that makes the older cop slink away. It also makes me a little nervous. I haven’t known Travis long, but like I said, I have a pretty good read on him. The two of us have been flirting off and on, but he hasn’t asked me out yet.

  I have a feeling that’s about to change.

  “Are you busy Friday night?”

  Oh boy. I’ve been expecting this ever since he told me that he’s now become a “muffin man.” To most people that wouldn’t mean a thing, but besides my lie detecting skills, I also make the best muffins in town. Not that I would say that. But everyone else does, and who am I to argue with them?

  “Friday night is when Will and I watch America’s Most Vicious Criminals.”

  Will Cunningham is my older brother Sebastian’s best friend. My brother is a priest and the pastor at St. Perpetua’s Catholic Church here in town. When Sebastian went away to the seminary, Will and I became best friends too.

  I’ve been in love with Will ever since my seventh birthday party, when he saved me from a pack of rabid squirrels. We started our Friday night T.V. and pizza tradition when I moved back to town after graduating from culinary school, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.

  Travis and Will play in the same basketball league. The other night, they got a beer after their game. I know this because Will told me about it. I wonder if they talked about me. Nah.

  “So how about tonight then?” he asks.

  “How about tonight what?” I hate playing dumb, but I have no experience when it comes to fending guys off.

  “How about we grab something to eat?”

  “Tonight’s my book club.”

  He spears me with a look that makes me squirm. “I guess that’s better than telling me you have to wash your hair.”

  “No, really. I got invited to Betty Jean’s book club, and I promised to bring muffins. Apparently, there’s a big waiting list to join, so I didn’t dare refuse.”

  Betty Jean Collins is a regular customer here at The Bistro and a real character. She’s a prominent member of the Gray Flamingos, a local senior citizens activist group. She’s also the eighty-year-old female equivalent of a hound dog. No man under the age of sixty is safe from her. E
specially Travis.

  At the mention of Betty Jean, Travis breaks down and grins. When he smiles like that, his eyes become even greener. He really is quite attractive. But he knows it, so that spoils it a little.

  “So you’re busy tonight and tomorrow. How about Saturday night?”

  I try my hardest to think of a reason to turn him down. But there isn’t one.

  “I could maybe possibly be free Saturday night.”

  “What would it take to make that a definitely free?”

  I’m about to answer when I hear my name.

  “Lucy!”

  Travis and I whip around to see Brittany Kelly rush into the café. “Oh, hi, Travis,” she says demurely.

  Travis smiles down at her, and her eyes go a little wide. Yeah, he has that effect on women. “Hello, Brittany.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to speak to Lucy. It’s super important.”

  Travis gives me a meaningful look. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he says before joining Rusty at the other end of the counter.

  “Hey, Brittany,” I say like I’m happy to see her. Which, for once, I am. If she hadn’t interrupted us, I would have said yes to Travis, which would have been a big mistake. According to Cindy, in the short time Travis has been in town, women have been showing up at police headquarters in droves, hoping to get a chance to speak to him.

  I have absolutely no intention of being a member of the Travis Fontaine fan club. Plus, if Will finds out I went out with Travis, which he would because this is a small town, then it might ruin any chance I might have with him.

  Am I attracted to Travis? Yes.

  Am I interested in any sort of long-term relationship with him? That would be a resounding no.

  “Lucy,” says Brittany, “I just spoke to Tara, and she says that the film crew will be here on Saturday. I knew it would be fast, but I’m kind of freaking out here.” She gazes around the café. “I mean, are you ready for that?”

  “Relax, it will be all be fine.”

  “Fine? This is the Cooking Channel we’re talking about here. We only get one chance to impress them.”

  Brittany Kelly and I have a weird history. We both grew up in Whispering Bay and attended school together. Our relationship, however, got off on the wrong foot way back in kindergarten when she lied about stealing a brand-new set of paintbrushes. Being a naïve five-year-old, I told the teacher about Brittany’s lie, which got me labeled as a tattletale and earned me Brittany’s disdain for the next twelve years.

  At least, that’s how I saw the situation.

  Brittany viewed things differently. Apparently, all this time she’s wanted to be my friend. At least that’s what she says now.

  I sigh. Talk about ironic. Here I am about to reassure Whispering Bay’s golden girl that all is good in her world. “Sarah and I are closing The Bistro early on Friday to make sure everything looks spic and span. If we aren’t picked to be on Battle of the Beach Eats, it won’t be The Bistro’s fault.”

  About a month ago I auditioned to be on Muffin Wars (think Cupcake Wars), and I think I had an excellent chance to get on the show. The prize for winning is ten thousand dollars, and I could have really used it. When The Bistro came up for sale a few months ago, I didn’t have all the money I needed for half of the down payment, so Will loaned it to me. He’s pretty casual about wanting to get paid back, but I hate owing him money.

  Brittany’s daddy, who owns The Harbor House, Whispering Bay’s fanciest restaurant, has a friend at The Cooking Channel who showed him my audition tape. He, in turn, showed it to Brittany. That’s when she got her big idea to enter the entire town in another one of their shows, Battle of the Beach Eats. As the PR person for the Whispering Bay Chamber of Commerce, Brittany says that she was just thinking of the entire town.

  I should have been angry. I mean, there was a more than decent chance that if I’d gotten selected for Muffin Wars, I’d win the show. But I’m trying to be a good sport about the whole thing.

  Battle of the Beach Eats pits all the major restaurants in a town against one another, which means if we get selected, The Bistro by the Beach will be competing with the other five places in town. The prize money is twenty-five thousand dollars and the right to be called the Best Beach Eat in town. Right now I’d really just like the twenty-five grand.

  “I know I can count on you, Lucy,” says Brittany cheerfully. “Say! We should do lunch again.”

  Brittany and I had lunch yesterday like regular “girlfriends.” It wasn’t as horrible as I imagined, but I don’t want a repeat anytime soon either.

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, when?”

  “Um, maybe after the film crew does their thing? I think we’ll both be pretty busy until then.”

  “Right! You’re so smart, Lucy. Call me tomorrow so we can make plans!” She blows me an air kiss on her way out.

  I slump against the counter. Talking to Brittany for five minutes is almost as exhausting as spending the morning serving customers.

  Sarah comes out from the kitchen and hands me two big bags. “Funny, I don’t remember the police department ever placing such a big order.”

  Neither do I.

  Rusty pays in cash, then he and Travis take the bags and leave.

  “Whew,” says Sarah. “I’m glad things are slowing down some.” She eyes me. “Want to take a breather? You haven’t sat down all morning.”

  Through the glass pane window, I see Rusty and Travis get into their squad car.

  My Spidey sense slaps me up the side of the head. Or maybe it’s residual ache from the frying pan incident. Whatever. Something tells me to follow them, and if I’ve learned anything in the past week, it’s that I need to listen to myself.

  “Do you mind if I take an early lunch break?”

  “No problem. Jill and I can handle things for a bit.”

  “Thanks!” I grab a sweater and Paco’s leash. He happily jumps into the passenger seat of my VW beetle.

  Since Travis and Rusty are in a squad car, it’s not hard to spot them.

  I stay in the right-hand lane, three cars behind, going slowly but not too slowly because I want to keep up with them.

  The Whispering Bay police station is next door to city hall, but instead of turning into the parking lot, Travis keeps on driving.

  I knew they were up to something!

  Paco sticks his head out the window. “Get back in,” I urge in case either Travis or Rusty are looking. The last thing I want is for one of them to spot me.

  The squad car takes a right into Dolphin Isles, a new residential community of cookie-cutter homes. Whispering Bay is a coastal town of about ten thousand year long residents, mostly young families or retirees. But there’s also a substantial vacation and snow bird crowd that rents homes in this subdivision.

  Travis parks the squad car on the side of the road. I roll up behind a palm tree and kill the engine. I’m confident they can’t see me.

  Paco barks expectantly.

  “Shhh,” I warn. “We’re trying to stay incognito.”

  He freezes like he understands, which is actually pretty cute.

  I glance back at the squad car, but neither Rusty or Travis get out.

  Could they be on some kind of a stakeout? My heart speeds up at the thought. But that makes no sense. All that food for just the two of them?

  I make a mental note to buy myself a pair of binoculars when I notice a jogger coming toward them. Maybe mid-thirties, lean build, brown hair, navy blue hoodie. He slows down and approaches the squad car. Travis hands him the two bags of food through the car window, then the man takes off jogging in the opposite direction.

  After a couple of minutes, Travis and Rusty drive off.

  What in the world?

  Without thinking, I start my engine and follow the jogger.

  Click HERE to order WHACK THE MOLE!

  And if you enjoy romance, then check out my Whispering Bay Romance series. The first book in the
series, THAT THING YOU DO, is FREE!

  Allie Grant doesn’t believe in second chances. She does, however, believe in the power of a permanent paycheck. So when a tipster reports that the soon-to-be demolished senior center in her hometown is haunted, Allie hightails it to Whispering Bay to get the scoop that could secure her dream job at Florida! magazine. What she finds, though, is far scarier than any ghost. Cue her ex-boyfriend, sexy construction foreman Tom Donalan.

  When Tom catches Allie poking around his construction site, he quickly realizes his former high school flame is just as feisty as ever. And, heaven help him, her irresistible, mile-high legs still take his breath away. But Tom isn’t about to delay the building’s demolition because of a silly ghost story.

  With neither of the stubborn exes backing down from their opposing positions, sparks fly. And, underneath the surface, the fire of their old attraction burns as hot as ever. When strange things start happening with increasing frequency around town, even a tough skeptic like Tom is tested. The question is, can Allie and Tom stop fighting long enough to get to the bottom of Whispering Bay’s ghost problem—and the more important matter of mending their broken hearts?

  Click HERE to get THAT THING YOU DO Free!

  Books by Maria Geraci

  Whispering Bay Mystery series

  Beach Blanket Homicide

  Whack The Mole

  Murder By Muffin (coming soon!)

  Whispering Bay Romance series

  That Thing You Do

  Then He Kissed Me

  That Man Of Mine

  The Best For Last

  This Can’t Be Love

  Can’t Stop The Feeling

  About the Author

  Maria Geraci writes quirky, fun, romantic women’s fiction and is a two time RITA® Finalist, Romance Writers of America’s highest award of distinction in the romance publishing industry, as well as a finalist in the National Readers’ Choice Awards and Romantic Times’ American Title Contest. Her books feature strong women, dreamy heroes, lots of laughs and a little bit of heat. She lives in central Florida and is always on the lookout for the perfect key lime pie recipe (but not the kind they served on Dexter).