Swept Away Read online

  Swept Away

  A Squeaky Clean Mysteries Novella

  Christy Barritt

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  If you enjoyed this book, you may also enjoy these other Squeaky Clean Mysteries:

  The Sierra Files

  Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries

  Carolina Moon Series

  Cape Thomas Mysteries:

  The Gabby St. Claire Diaries (a tween mystery series)

  Standalones

  Complete Book List

  About the Author

  Copyright

  SWEPT AWAY: A Novel

  Copyright 2016 by Christy Barritt

  Published by River Heights Press

  Cover design by The Killion Group

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The persons and events portrayed in this work are the creation of the author, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  “I had to search far and wide, Gabby, but I finally found the perfect location,” Riley said.

  Something close to pure delight oozed through my chest at the sound of Riley’s—no, make that my husband’s—voice. I couldn’t wait to enjoy seven full days of alone time with him.

  “The perfect location, huh?” I said. “I hate to say this, because I know you worked hard on our honeymoon plans, but anywhere with you is perfect.”

  “I feel the same,” he said.

  Riley squeezed my hand as we cruised down the road in a rental car. I had no idea exactly where we were since a blindfold covered my eyes, but I was okay with that. We’d gotten married quickly two weeks ago at the end of September, and I’d figured we might get around to honeymooning next summer at the earliest, due to both of our crazy schedules.

  “You have no idea how challenging this was,” Riley said. “But I knew an island far off the coast was out, especially after the whole Cemetery Island fiasco.”

  “True.” A secluded island and being cut off from the outside world had scarred me for life.

  “I knew a resort was out of the question after the whole Healthy Springs episode.”

  “True again.” A missing woman in a highbrow resort had made me never want to go to another one.

  “A mountain cabin just didn’t seem appropriate after Mythical Falls.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” A creepy abandoned theme park and Bigfoot sightings were enough to give anyone nightmares.

  Riley pulled the car to a stop and cut the engine. “So, I pulled a few strings, and here we are.”

  Anticipation sizzled through me. I couldn’t wait to see what he had planned. Something about the surprise of it all made me feel like a detective at her first crime scene.

  “Can I take my blindfold off yet?” My fingers reached for the soft cotton hankie.

  We’d gotten off the plane in Florida, so I knew which state I was in, at least. But as soon as we’d rented a car, my eyes had been covered, and I’d placed myself in Riley’s capable hands. As the blare of the AC faded and silence filled the air around me, another ripple of excitement rushed through me.

  It had been ages since I had a real, genuine vacation. Come to think of it . . . had I ever had a real vacation? I couldn’t remember. I’d traveled, but it was always for work or purposes other than relaxation and fun.

  “Stay right there. I’m coming around to get you.” Riley’s door opened, and a whiff of heavy, salty air drifted into the car along with the sound of seagulls.

  I’d been trying to use my detecting skills to figure out where we were. Based on the sun’s location, I figured we were headed west. Based on traffic, which had started out as heavy but gradually eased, I figured we were outside the city limits. Based on the smell and the sounds, I’d guess we were on the Gulf Coast somewhere.

  My door opened, and Riley clutched my arm, gently easing me from the sedan. Once I stood on solid concrete beneath my feet, I expected him to take the handkerchief from my eyes.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he tugged me across the ground until my feet hit something soft. Sand, probably. The scent of salty air hit me even stronger. Since I lived near Virginia Beach, the smell made me feel right at home.

  “You ready?” Riley stood behind me, his touch making my skin come alive.

  He sounded so cute in his excitement. All of this just reaffirmed how much I loved this man. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.

  “I’m ready,” I told him, not bothering to hide my smile.

  He carefully untied the cloth, and my eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to their newfound freedom. I sucked in a deep breath at the sight before me.

  The sun sank in front of us, as if it had waited for us to arrive before putting on its show. Pink and purple smeared across the sky. The Gulf waters, though late in the day and absent of any bright sunshine, were still crystal blue and clear. The sandy beach looked white and pristine.

  It was one of the most beautiful sunsets I’d ever seen.

  “Do you like it?” Riley asked, his breath warm on my ear as his arms circled my waist.

  “I love it.” I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck. We both pivoted so we could still see the spectacular display on the horizon. “I grew up near the beach, so I thought I’d seen and experienced it all.”

  “There’s something different about the waters down here. And watching the sunset on the Gulf . . . it’s amazing.”

  “I agree.” I glanced behind us and spotted a three-story house with an entire wall of windows facing the water.

  The place looked grand and fancy with multiple porches and decks and even a little gazebo, all trimmed in a neat white. The building itself was covered in a rich coral-colored siding. Colorful Adirondack chairs rested outside, beckoning people to sit and enjoy the scenery. The bottom level appeared to be mostly pilings that set the residence up high in case floodwaters came.

  The nearest house looked to be a good three hundred feet away, and it was a monster, surrounded on two sides by water as the land jutted out into a point. We seemed to be in an exclusive residential area, but just a little farther down the shoreline I spotted a marina and a small town.

  “Where are we exactly?”

  “Crystal Key,” he said. “It’s not actually a part of the Florida Keys. We’re still a couple of hours away. But we’re on an island off the west coast of Florida, about an hour south of Clearwater.”

  “I love it.”

  Riley looked back at the house. “A friend owns this place and offered to let us use it. I couldn’t come up with a single reason not to. It fit all my criteria.”

  I turned to face him again, not really wanting to look at the house or the sunset anymore. Just Riley. My husband. The man I loved. Heartache had pulled us closer and pushed us apart only to eventually solidify our relationship for good.

  My heart quickened at the sight of him. He looked so handsome. Since he’d taken up mixed martial arts last year, his slim, tall frame had turned into all lean muscle. He had dark hair and was usually clean shaven, but whenever he had the chance lately he let a five o’clock shadow form. I actually liked the look. His blue eyes were kind and wise, he had an easy smile, and he was a great listener. In other words, he was everything I’d ever wanted.

  “I’m glad you pic
ked this place. It’s nice.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I planned this carefully, you know. We’re staying by ourselves, so there’s no one else around to distract us. There’s no mysterious history haunting the place. The crime rate is practically nonexistent. There have never been any murders—yes, I researched it. The biggest excitement around here was when the grill didn’t work during a local fish fry about a month ago. I think we should actually be able to enjoy our honeymoon like two normal people.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Whoever said we were normal?”

  “True that.” He leaned toward me and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “You ready to grab our bags and get inside?”

  My heart fluttered again. I hoped that feeling never left me when I looked at Riley. “Let’s go.”

  We’d only taken one step toward the door when a sound caught my ear, and I stopped.

  It sounded like an army was rolling into town somewhere in the not-so-distant distance. Riley’s grip at my waist tightened, as he seemed to anticipate the worst also. We both sensed something on the horizon was threatening our plan for peace and solitude.

  An convoy of probably ten vehicles—all kinds, from SUVs to vans to limos—appeared on the road and stopped at the massive house beside ours. All at once, people began pouring from the vehicles. Mostly girls. Giggling. In bathing suits. Tiny bathing suits.

  I was tempted to cover Riley’s eyes—the last thing I wanted was Ms. America swimsuit models lounging beside me on my honeymoon. But I trusted Riley. He wasn’t the type to gawk.

  Three men with cameras also appeared, along with a couple of people with clipboards and other people hauling out equipment of some sort.

  The girls continued to giggle as they hurried toward the beach. I halfway expected to see Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon appear singing “Beach Party.”

  Riley and I glanced at each other, and neither of us had to say a word.

  This had not been on Riley’s agenda. They had not been a part of the plan.

  One last car pulled up. A limo constructed from a Hummer, at that.

  A man stepped from the back wearing a white suit and sunglasses. He had curly dark hair and an air of charisma about him.

  As soon as he cleared the vehicle, the women went crazy. “Ricky! It’s Ricky! Hi, Ricky! Over here, Ricky!”

  He grinned a Hollywood type of grin and sauntered toward them. As soon as he reached the sand, the women surrounded him and began fawning over the man. He didn’t seem to mind.

  All I could think of was “harem.”

  Maybe, if I blinked, all of these people would be gone, and Riley and I could have our nice, quiet honeymoon. We deserved that much, didn’t we?

  One of the men toting a clipboard sauntered across the grassy sand toward us. He had a sun-kissed face with thinning, light-brown hair, and a smile that screamed “salesman.” His clothing was an updated throwback to the old show Miami Vice: a light-colored sports coat, a pink T-shirt, and aviator sunglasses.

  “Wally Walker.” He extended his hand, a businesslike smile on his face. For some reason, the man looked slightly familiar.

  Riley seemed to hesitate before returning the gesture. “Riley Thomas. This is my wife, Gabby.”

  “Pleasure to meet you both.” He nodded toward the house behind us. “You staying here?”

  “Yes, we are,” Riley said. “On our honeymoon.”

  The man grunted. “Interesting. We were told no one would be here.”

  “Who told you that?” Riley asked.

  “The owner. We called him about a month ago when we were scouting out locations.”

  “Well, this was last minute,” Riley said. “He must have forgotten.”

  The man grunted again. “We can work around you two.”

  “Work around us?” I asked, totally confused or maybe just in denial. I gripped Riley’s arm more tightly as anticipation of bad news built inside me.

  “Sorry. I’m the host and one of the producers for Looking for Love. You heard of us?” Before I could answer, he continued. “We’re a reality show. Ten women. One rich, handsome man looking for a soul mate . . . or a trophy wife. Nobody really knows nowadays.” He let out a canned laugh. “Anyway, we’ll be filming here on Crystal Key this week.”

  Wasn’t that just perfect? Like I’d thought earlier: harem. That had always been my opinion of those reality dating shows.

  I had watched the show a couple of times. There was always a handsome bachelor who was called Mr. Eligible, or, during the seasons when a female was the lead, she was called Ms. Eligible. The show’s star went on exotic dates with contestants, mostly after they won crazy competitions where time alone with Eligible was the prize. The contestants were given dance cards that promised them a place on the show for another week.

  “What’s that mean for us?” Riley asked, pulling me closer in a silent apology. He didn’t have to say it. I knew him well enough to read the gesture.

  Wally thrust a clipboard toward us. “Would you mind signing these release forms?”

  “Why would we need release forms?” I asked, staring at the very detailed paper in front of me. The fine print was overwhelming, to say the least.

  “Just in case we’re filming and we catch you on camera. We hope that doesn’t happen.” He leaned closer. “Like, we really hope that doesn’t happen. Like, if you could try to stay out of our way, that would be the best.”

  We both stared at him until he shrugged without a mere hint of shame.

  “But, just in case, we want to cover all our bases. Lawsuits are not our friend.” He let out a long, fake laugh.

  “I only charge ten thousand for appearances on camera,” I said, keeping my expression neutral. “Can we put that in the contract?”

  The man’s eyes widened, and he let out another forced laugh. “Wh . . . what?”

  I smiled, big and broad. “Just kidding.”

  It’s actually twenty thousand. I mentally laughed at myself and then patted my own back for not saying it out loud.

  His laugh deepened. “You’re a funny one. You two looking for limelight? I have some other shows I’m producing, and we’re always looking for camera-worthy faces—”

  “No,” Riley and I both said at the same time.

  Wally raised his hand. “That was loud and clear. Now, about these forms . . . ?”

  “I’ll read them over,” Riley said. He was an attorney, so at least he knew what to look for.

  “Fine. I’ll come back tomorrow morning to pick them up. How’s that sound?”

  “Not too early,” I pleaded with him

  “Sure, sure.” He took a step away. “Oh, and by the way—I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  He shrugged apologetically. “You’ll see.”

  I was sleeping in Riley’s arms, dreaming about paradise and happy-ever-after when a sound jerked me from my happy slumber.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  I tried to ignore it and enjoy this moment I’d been dreaming about for so long—being married to Riley. Being here. Being with him.

  Maybe I’d been hearing things. Maybe it was a dream. After all, it was the middle of the night in the town without crime.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  The sound became more urgent, and I couldn’t pretend I was hearing things.

  Somebody was pounding on the door to our beach house.

  If I had to guess, this had something to do with the reality show next door. The ladies over there had partied hard until two in the morning, with music blaring and loud, loud talking. It had sounded like festivity central.

  What could be happening now to pull me out of my slumber?

  Option one: Someone didn’t get a dance card.

  Option two: Someone had a clothing malfunction.

  Option three: Someone found out Ricky the Gigolo was dating someone else.

  Riley stirred beside me. “What is that . . . ?”

  “I’m not sure. But I guess we should go
check it out.”

  He kissed my shoulder. “Do we have to?”

  Just then, someone screamed in the distance, “Please. Help me!”

  Riley and I threw off the soft down comforter and jumped out of bed. I grabbed a robe and quickly tied it around me as Riley and I rushed toward the sound. The scream sounded like more than Looking for Love gone bad. Someone sounded scared.

  I glanced at the bedside clock. Four a.m.

  At the front door, Riley pushed me behind him and finished pulling on his T-shirt. As he jerked the door open, tension crackled in the air. The ocean breeze drifted inside, deceitfully peaceful and balmy.

  A woman stood there. Mascara streaked her cheeks, and sand clung to her itsy-bitsy black dress.

  “You’ve got to help me. Please!” She tumbled inside and fell against Riley, heaving in deep gulps of air.

  “What’s wrong?” Riley grasped her arms. If he let go, she’d surely slip to the ground.

  She looked up at us, her eyes wide and tear-rimmed. “They took her.”

  I touched her arm, concern ricocheting through me. Something had happened to traumatize the woman. Something bad.

  I glanced outside beyond the woman and saw nothing but a dark beach. Nothing else was discernable through the blackness of the night. Just what was hiding out there in the nighttime?

  “Took who?” Riley asked the woman.

  “Vivian.” She sobbed again. “We were walking down on the beach when these men pulled up in a boat. They jumped out, grabbed Vivian, and took off. One of them started to come after me, but I got away. This was the first house I found. Please, you’ve got to do something!”

  Riley and I exchanged a glance.

  So much for a peaceful honeymoon.

  Chapter Two

  Riley darted outside to check out things himself—a role I desperately wanted to take, but I restrained myself. Instead, I called 911 and started a pot of coffee—thankfully the owner had left some supplies—and I found a blanket to drape over the woman’s shoulders.