Gaffe Out Loud Read online

  Just as the question left my lips, someone walked past and snapped a picture of me and Sam. Tension squeezed my chest.

  Great. More evidence of something that wasn’t happening.

  Sam didn’t seem to mind. He smiled, his eyes sparkling, and said something charming to the passerby. Of course.

  Did he even know about the photo of us that had been published? I wasn’t going to bring it up now.

  “I totally think Zane should get a role in our show,” Sam said. “He’s great.”

  “He is,” I agreed.

  “We watched Bob Ross reruns last night,” Sam continued. “I forgot how great his show was. So relaxing.”

  “It is.” I knew I was just going through the motions of this conversation. But I couldn’t help think about that blackmail threat I’d gotten.

  What was I going to do? Should I pay up? Something inside me rebelled against that on principal alone. The photo was clearly altered. But if it went public, would that only cause more tension between me and Jackson?

  That was the last thing I wanted.

  Speaking of Jackson . . . I glanced at my phone. He still hadn’t called me back.

  Maybe he had seen that picture, and now he was upset.

  As Zane and Sam stared at me, I realized they must have asked me a question. A question I hadn’t heard.

  I opened my mouth, ready to fess up to my preoccupation.

  “Danny called earlier, looking for the scoop,” Zane said.

  I straightened. “Officer Loose Lips? The scoop on what?”

  “He said he overheard Jackson saying he had some big changes he needed to make in his life—changes that were going to be difficult.” Zane studied me. “Anything you need to tell me?”

  My cheeks flushed. Certainly Jackson wasn’t talking about me, was he? About our relationship?

  But before I could say anything, a familiar figure walked past.

  I straightened. Was that . . .

  It was.

  It was the man Desiree had met with at the hotel. Gordon Haynes.

  He was here at Willie Wahoo’s.

  Maybe my luck was changing.

  “Excuse me,” I muttered, standing from the table.

  If the guys responded, I didn’t hear them. No, I was laser-focused on the man who’d crossed the restaurant.

  I’d taken only five steps toward him when someone intercepted me.

  Billy Corbina. Billy with his shaved head, gauge earrings, and overall menacing demeanor.

  I let out a sigh. “What do you want, Billy?”

  “You’ve been here twice in a week. I thought you’d never set foot in this place again.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.” I crossed my arms and resisted an eye roll. Or maybe I didn’t. It was hard to tell sometimes.

  “I like the press you bring when you come.”

  “That’s great.” I peered around him, trying to find the man. He was still here. At the bar in the distance.

  “But I don’t want trouble.”

  I glanced back at him for long enough to scowl. “You live off trouble, Billy.”

  “My dad’s cut me loose. I can’t afford to mess up.”

  I tilted my entire body, trying to watch Gordon. He ordered a drink. That meant he’d be staying for a while.

  “Why’d you stop me, Billy?” I asked him. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  He wasn’t going to let me past until he got what he wanted—whether that was a favor or a rise in emotion.

  “No, I just wanted to say hi.”

  “Okay then. Hi.” I stepped around him, thankful to have that cleared up.

  “Joey?”

  I mentally growled as I turned around. “Yes, Billy?”

  His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I always knew you were a player.”

  Anger surged through me. “I’m not a player.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, if you say so. That photo of you and Sam Butler over there seems to indicate something different.”

  I didn’t have time to argue with Billy now. Instead I continued toward Gordon and slipped into the open seat beside him. I didn’t waste any time pretending to show up for a made-up reason.

  “I have questions for you,” I said.

  His eyes widened as he looked over at me. “Do I know you?”

  Gordon looked as I’d expected—blond hair that was cut short, a smaller build, and a preppy way of dressing. His demeanor made me think he’d come from money, and that he could be cocky. He nursed his beer, looking like he was ready to stay for a while.

  “No, but I know who you are. Kind of—”

  “Wait. No. I do know you. You’re that actress.” His voice rose like he was impressed. “Raven Remington.”

  “Yes, yes. I’m Raven Remington. But that’s not why I’m here. I need to know—”

  “Man, I love that show. I’m so glad they’re bringing it back.”

  I was never going to get to the heart of this conversation, was I? “Thank you. I really appreciate that. But—”

  “Is that Sam Butler over there?” He glanced behind me “I thought I saw him earlier—”

  “Look, that’s not why I came over. I have important questions.” It was my turn to interrupt now.

  His eyes widened again. “For me?”

  “For you. It’s about Desiree Williams”

  “Who is Desiree Williams?” He looked confused with a knot between his eyebrows.

  Now this was just annoying. “You know good and well who Desiree Williams is.”

  He shook his head. “You’re wrong. I have no idea who she is.”

  I sucked in a long, deep breath in order to keep my composure. “We have it on security footage that you were with her. You’re from Jersey. You’re staying at the Sea Gull Inn. And Desiree met you there on Monday night.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Oh. You mean Danielle.”

  So Desiree had used an alias. Why would she do that?

  “Okay, Danielle. I need to know what happened between the two of you.”

  He started to stand, shaking his head back and forth with obvious irritation claiming his features. “I’m done with this conversation.”

  Oh, no. He was my one lead. I couldn’t lose him this easily.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I grabbed Gordon’s arm. “Wait, this is important.”

  His nostrils flared as he turned to me. “She ruined my life. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”

  “Ruined your life enough for you to kill her?”

  He froze and his face went slack. “What did you say?”

  “Desiree—or Danielle, as you call her—is dead. Murdered.”

  He let out a long breath and dropped back into his seat, his irritation replaced with stunned disbelief. “What happened?”

  “She was strangled.”

  He let out another breath. “I had no idea.”

  “You’re a suspect, you know. The police are looking for you.”

  He hung his head, and I almost—almost—felt sorry for him.

  “I thought she was done ruining my life.”

  Now that was an interesting comment to make.

  “Can you please walk me through what happened? Maybe I’ll put in a good word for you. I have connections in the police department.” My connections wouldn’t really care but . . . I would try.

  “It’s not what you think,” Gordon insisted.

  “Then change my mind.”

  He raised his head, licked his lips, and glanced at me. “I met Danielle. Is it okay if I call her that?”

  “Sure.” I didn’t care what he called her as long as he shared what happened with me.

  “Okay, so I met Danielle on the beach. She was awesome. So sweet and very flirty. We really connected—or so I thought.”

  “What happened then?”

  “The problem is that my wife and I had a fight.”

  My throat clenched as the picture became clearer in my mind. “I see.”
/>   He frowned and stared into his beer, as if tea leaves might magically appear and give him insight into his future. “Actually, my wife and I have been fighting for a while. We came here on vacation, but we’re essentially doing our own things. My wife is spending time shopping and at the spa. I’ve been going to the beach and surfing.”

  “And Danielle comes into the picture how?”

  “I met Danielle during a moment of weakness, I suppose. Like I said, I’m in a low point in my marriage. Danielle and I happened to set up on the beach beside each other, and she was great. We spent the day together. Ate together. I told myself we were just being friendly. She was having relationship troubles also. We could relate.”

  “Okay.” Michael hadn’t mentioned anything about relationship troubles, but that was good to know.

  “So one thing led to another—and quickly—and we agreed to meet at the hotel that night.” His neck seemed to tighten at the words.

  I didn’t like the picture that was coming together in my mind. “I’m taking it things didn’t go well when you met with her.”

  “That’s the problem. Things went great. I mean, I felt horrible afterward. Yet happy. It was confusing. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Pursue Danielle? Break things off and beg for my wife’s forgiveness? Pray neither woman found out about the other? But it didn’t matter because, the next morning, I got pictures.”

  “Pictures?” Something tried to connect in my mind, but I fought it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to face the truth I could feel coming at me like a freight train.

  “Yeah, blackmail pictures. Of me and Danielle. Said if I didn’t pay five thousand that they’d send the photos to my wife.”

  That sounded a little too familiar, and my interest in his story doubled. “So what did you do?”

  Gordon ran a hand over his face, his stress over the situation obvious. “It took some finagling, but I managed to move some funds around, and I got the money. I left cash in a trashcan at the beach, just like this person told me.”

  “And you left? You didn’t see who picked it up?”

  “And I left. The note said if I stayed around then the agreement was null and void. I wasn’t willing to risk it.”

  “Did your wife find out?”

  Gordon let out a bitter laugh. “No, that’s the ironic part. She got mad at me about something unrelated and left. Went back home.”

  “Man, I’m sorry to hear that.” But he was a cheater, which made him a big, fat loser in my book.

  “I knew it was coming.” Gordon took a sip of his beer.

  So his wife had left. His new lover was dead and . . . “Yet you’re still here.”

  He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah, I decided to stay in the rental. We’d paid for a whole week, right? I might as well enjoy it.”

  “I guess your real name isn’t Gordon Haynes.” He was too smart to leave his real information.

  “No, it’s not. And I’m not from Jersey. I’m from DC. My name is Jason.”

  “Well, Jason from DC. You’re alone, and you’re five thousand dollars poorer—I guess for no good reason.”

  “I know. I guess I deserve it, though. I should have never met with Danielle at that hotel. It was a stupid move.” He took a long sip of his drink.

  I studied his face, trying to figure out if he was playing games with me. I didn’t think he was. He seemed sincere in what he’d told me. But, then again, a girl could never be too certain about these things. “You really didn’t know she was dead?”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Thanks for sharing.” I slid out of my chair.

  Since Jackson wasn’t answering his phone, I decided to text the information on Jason to him.

  But I really needed to talk to him.

  Jackson still hadn’t called me back, and I didn’t want to get all stalker-like by calling him endlessly. I mean, six times was enough, right? Or maybe it was eight. Who was counting?

  Instead of trying to track him down, I went back to my place, still thinking everything through.

  I stood on my deck. It was my new favorite place, mostly because it didn’t require being inside with Desiree’s ghost. Ripley stood beside me, a faithful companion—when he wasn’t chasing seagulls, at least.

  I didn’t linger by my railing this time. No, I doubted I’d do that any time soon. Instead, I sat in an old dining room chair that I’d left outside the day before.

  Okay, I needed to think this through.

  Desiree’s side hustle was having an affair with Jason and then blackmailing him.

  Someone else was blackmailing me for having an affair I wasn’t having.

  Yet Desiree was dead, so it wasn’t her. Who was helping her?

  Was Jennifer secretly involved? Or how about Michael?

  There was something I was missing here. Some type of scheme that preyed on other people’s sins. That manipulated them. Or maybe a scheme that preyed on the assumed decisions of other people—like me and Sam in that doctored photo.

  It didn’t matter.

  What did matter was that someone had ended up dead because of this. That meant this was way more than a mere game. This was deadly. Someone was willing to take things to the extreme in order to get what they wanted.

  “Joey!” someone called.

  I glanced over and saw Annie standing on her deck with tears streaming down her face. My heart lurched with compassion. “Hey, Annie.”

  I stood and stepped closer, sensing something was wrong.

  “You said if I needed anything, you’d help, right?” She used the sleeve of her sweatshirt—it was obviously a comfortable “therapy” shirt because it was hot outside—to wipe her tears as she stood facing me.

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “Could we talk?” She sniffled. “I don’t have any friends here, and I desperately need a listening ear.”

  “Sure. I’ll be right there.”

  I put Ripley back inside before crossing the space between our houses and joining Annie on the deck. I lightly touched her arm as I stood beside her, feeling terrible for the woman. This was because she’d seen Adam with that other woman, wasn’t it? Maybe she’d only suspected he’d been cheating earlier and now it was confirmed.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Annie shook her head, her eyes looking empty. “Adam has been cheating on me. I followed him today and saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Oh, Annie. I’m so sorry.” This wasn’t the time to confess I’d seen it too.

  She stared off in the distance, toward the beach and everyone there who looked so easy-going and carefree. “I knew we had problems. I just never knew how deep they went.”

  “You obviously suspected something was going on.”

  “I did. I mean, Adam started as the perfect husband. Now it’s morphed into this . . . this . . . disaster. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Has he ever hurt you, Annie?” I almost didn’t want to ask the question, but I did. I needed to know just how disastrous this was. “I don’t mean emotionally. That’s bad enough and shouldn’t be discounted. But are you in physical danger with him?”

  “No, he’s never hit me. He’s a jerk, but not that kind of jerk.”

  That was positive, at least.

  “Have you ever tried counseling?” I wasn’t the best person to offer advice here. I really wasn’t. I had a terrible track record with relationships, and I definitely wasn’t a moral authority. But maybe I could talk her through things. Maybe I could use my experience for good, somehow.

  “No, Adam hasn’t been open to it, even though I have mentioned it. He thinks it’s for people who are weak.”

  “Maybe you could ask again,” I said.

  “Maybe.” She fanned her face, as if that might dry her tears. “I feel so foolish talking to you about this. It’s just that I have no one else here.”

  “How long will you be here, Annie?” Most people stayed a week or two. I had the impression Adam and Annie
had been here at least a month.

  “We’d planned to stay all summer. We thought being here would help our marriage, you know? It got us away from the grind of everyday life, and Adam can do his job from home.”

  “I’m sorry things haven’t worked out well.”

  She turned toward me, her eyes still bloodshot with tears. “What should I do?”

  My mind raced through possible advice I could give her, but I finally settled on, “I can’t tell you what to do. Only you can decide that. If you still think there’s hope for your marriage, then, by all means, try to restore your relationship. But maybe separating for a while would help both you and Adam to sort things out.”

  “You know, you’re probably right. Maybe we should be away from each other for a while.” Annie shook her head and let out a self-conscious laugh. “I can’t believe I’ve been this stupid.”

  “Plenty of women have been duped by cheating husbands. He’s the stupid one for cheating.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced up at me. “You sound like you have experience.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t share about my horrible marriage with just anyone and all of those details weren’t important now. “Yeah, I’ve been in some pretty low places.”

  She fanned her face again and, as another sob escaped, it turned into a cough. “Listen, would you mind grabbing me some water? I left some bottles inside on the table.”

  “Of course not.”

  I strode toward the door and opened it. As I looked across the room, I spotted a case of water on the dining room table, just like Annie had said.

  I stepped inside to grab a bottle for her.

  But, before I could, something hit my head.

  And everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I pulled my eyes open and groaned.

  What in the world . . .?

  Everything flashed back to me.

  Talking to Annie.

  Going inside.

  Feeling something hit my head.

  And now this.

  I glanced around. Where was this? I appeared to be tied to a chair in an old beach house.

  But this wasn’t Adam and Annie’s. No, this was smaller. More outdated.