Lantern Beach Mysteries Box Set Page 6

“You speak like someone who knows firsthand about these things. You must be a longtime local.”

  “I was the police chief here for thirty years.”

  Now the man had her full attention. “Were you really?”

  “I had to retire three years ago, and that bozo took over.”

  “Bozo? He’s that good, huh?” Cassidy fought a smile. Her assessment—however brief and incomplete—would be similar.

  “Chief Bozo-man can’t tell a gunshot wound from a mosquito bite.”

  She nearly snorted. “Really?”

  “Really.” He glanced at her again. “I’m Mac, by the way.”

  “I’m Cassidy.”

  “You’re the ice cream lady.”

  “My reputation precedes me.”

  “Small town.”

  She frowned. “So I’m learning.”

  “But it’s a good place.” He leaned closer. “And you know what? You’re in a prime position.”

  “A prime position for what?”

  “To act as neighborhood watch,” he said. “No one else cruises these streets like you do, unless you count the garbage man.”

  “The mailman?”

  “Nope, we all have PO boxes here.”

  “Interesting.”

  “So if you see anything suspicious, be sure to report it.”

  “To Chief Bozoman?”

  Mac grinned. “You can just report it straight to me.”

  Her sandwich was delivered. She had to admit that it looked tasty with the crisp, butter-slathered bread and homemade potato chips. “Now to try this specialty.”

  “I’m telling you—you’re going to love it.”

  She hesitated only a minute before taking a bite. It was gooey and sweet and crunchy and buttery . . . an explosion of taste. “You’re right. This is surprisingly delicious.”

  “I told you.” Satisfaction rolled through his voice.

  More people came into the restaurant, and Mac struck up a friendly banter with them. He was putting on a show, Cassidy realized, an interesting trait for a former chief. She actually enjoyed the change. All her superiors back on the West Coast were overly concerned with being politically correct. Not to mention her family’s proclivity toward putting up appearances.

  Cassidy soaked it all in, enjoying listening to the lighthearted chatter around her. The slice of life here was so different than her life—in a good way.

  “I bet you a half-bushel of crabs that I can say the alphabet forwards, backwards, and skipping every other letter in less than sixty seconds,” Mac said.

  “Sure you can,” someone else called.

  Maybe she was going to like being here in Lantern Beach more than she thought. It was a way better undercover assignment than infiltrating DH-7 . . . except for her infuriating new neighbor.

  When Cassidy left the Crazy Chefette, she knew she should get back to work. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

  First, she had the overwhelming urge to introduce herself to Chief Bozeman. Or, Chief Bozoman, as Mac had called him. And she still remembered that piece of a boat that she’d found.

  Should she run home and get it? Give it to the police?

  She was a trained law enforcement professional, yet she was having trouble knowing what to do. Maybe it was a control issue because she knew as soon as it left her hands, it would be of no use to her. Maybe Cassidy was just making excuses. She didn’t know.

  But, despite those turbulent thoughts, she didn’t return home to retrieve the possible evidence. She needed to think about it more.

  Instead, she detoured to the police station, parked, and strode inside.

  Laid-back. Civilian. Kind of ditzy.

  You’ve failed with that so far with Ty. Don’t make the same mistakes with the local police.

  Cassidy stopped inside the front door. Three padded orange chairs sat against the wall to the left. The door on the other side of the room was open, and Cassidy spotted two desks facing each other inside. Another door was closed but clearly marked “Chief.”

  Interesting.

  She’d known the place was small. She could see that from the outside. But it was just so incredibly tiny compared to Seattle with its 1,300 officers.

  “Can I help you?” the plump, gray-haired receptionist asked.

  She plastered on what she hoped was a winning smile as she approached the desk. “I was hoping to speak to the chief.”

  “Is it an emergency?”

  Cassidy shook her head. “No, it’s not.”

  “One minute, and I’ll see if he’s available.”

  Cassidy took a seat and waited. As she did, voices from the open doorway floated out.

  “As far as I’m concerned, this case is open-and-shut,” a deep voice said. “The only reason two inexperienced boaters would go out at night was if one of them had something deadly planned.”

  “You think our suspect asked the victim to go boating at night with a storm coming just so he could shoot him?”

  “He probably never planned on the man’s body washing ashore. He could just say that a storm blew in, capsized the boat, and no one would be the wiser.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He wanted the man dead for some reason. Maybe there was some infidelity going on.”

  “The suspect and his wife both deny that.”

  “People deny stuff like that all the time. I think it had to do with money. Maybe our suspect stole a client from the victim.”

  “Have you checked the bank accounts?”

  “I’m working on getting them now, but you know the reality of the situation. These things usually boil down to love or money as a motive.”

  “I did hear the CEO . . . Walter something or other—”

  “Hamby,” the other voice interjected. “Walter Hamby.”

  “That’s right. He’s putting up a reward to anyone who comes forward with answers.”

  “Is that right? How much?”

  “Ten thousand.”

  Cassidy’s eyebrows shot up. Ten thousand? That was a nice chunk of change. If she had that money . . . she wouldn’t have to sell ice cream. Maybe she could keep herself busy by writing a self-help book instead. That seemed more her speed.

  “Can I help you?” a new voice asked.

  Cassidy pulled herself from her thoughts and snapped her head up. The chief stood there, staring at her with a hint of leeriness in his eyes.

  The man was younger than she’d assumed. She’d only seen him from a distance yesterday. Though he had a bit of middle-age pudge, his face looked youthful. He had dark hair that was neither straight nor curly but somewhere in between. His face was round, his eyebrows bushy, and his nose wide.

  She popped to her feet. “Chief . . . I’m new here in town for the summer.”

  “You’re the new ice cream lady.”

  She swallowed hard, so not used to small town dynamics. “That’s right. I’m Cassidy Livingstill—Livingston.”

  She held out her hand.

  The chief stared at it a minute before reaching out to shake it. “Chief Bozeman. Nice to meet you.”

  “Since I’m new in town, I just thought it could be beneficial if I met you.”

  He narrowed his eyes, as if the idea was foreign to him. “I see. That’s . . . uh, that’s very . . . very wise. I like to meet residents face-to-face.”

  Cassidy offered her brightest, most winning smile. “My dad always said it’s better I introduce myself to you than waiting for you to introduce yourself to me.”

  “I see. So you’ve been in trouble with the law before?”

  Great. Was that how it had sounded? “No, no trouble. No trouble at all. Well, I did get a parking ticket once.”

  The chief squinted. “It’s nice to have you here, Cassidy. I think you’ll enjoy our little community.”

  She made her best effort to look uncomfortably hesitant. “Well, that’s the other thing. I’m a single lady living here. And I heard there was a murder, so now I’m questioning being on
Lantern Beach.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said. “The crime rate here is low. Very low. And this wasn’t some random killer. It was a dispute between coworkers. I assure you, you’re in no danger.”

  He sounded pretty confident about that.

  Cassidy clasped her hands in front of her in a half clap, trying to act more convinced than she felt. “That’s great news. Thanks.”

  As she turned to leave, she heard the deputies in the background.

  “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t mind investigating.”

  The two men laughed.

  Cassidy’s stomach churned. She wasn’t sure the saying “blondes had more fun” was true. But blondes definitely got more attention . . . which was the last thing she wanted.

  Chapter 9

  Cassidy stood on her deck again that evening, drinking some homemade lemonade and munching on some toffee-covered popcorn she’d picked up at a gift shop. It was her weakness.

  She had the overwhelming urge to call someone. To chat about the case. About her day. To see how Colombo was doing. Check on Ryan. To find out if there were any updates on DH-7. Doing the detective thing solo wasn’t as easy.

  As much as she’d prided herself on being an independent woman, she’d never really been this isolated before. She’d always had people she knew around her. It was one of the perks, she supposed, of having one of the richest men on the West Coast as your father.

  Of course, she’d never trusted people’s motivation for being around her. She’d been used one too many times before. Power and money motivated people in gut-wrenching ways.

  Her eyes drifted across the beach. Ty and a few other people lumbered toward the sandy shores. Happy and lighthearted sounds echoed over the landscape. There were five of them all together: three guys and two girls. They’d all donned bathing suits and had nice tans. Regular beach bodies, probably.

  Her gaze stopped on Ty, and she frowned. The man was so infuriating. And smug. And everything she disliked in a person. She’d dealt with men like him before and couldn’t stand them. No, she much preferred men who respected women and thought of them as equals.

  As she listened to their laughter, her heart panged.

  Had Cassidy ever been that happy and lighthearted? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think so. Her parents had always pushed her to succeed. There had been endless music lessons. Spanish tutoring. Softball training and special practices. Etiquette classes. The pressure to graduate at the top of her class.

  There hadn’t been any time to just be. To be happy, at that.

  She shook her head as she realized how somber her thoughts were. She’d been here on Lantern Beach one day, and she was suddenly questioning her upbringing and her social life. She supposed she never slowed down long enough to ponder it as she’d carried on with life in Seattle.

  As the ball bounced over a dune and toward Cassidy’s deck, she hurried down the stairs. She grabbed the ball and began to toss it back when a woman appeared. She was thin and tan with sun-bleached hair and a wide smile. Something about her seemed strangely familiar.

  Cassidy tossed the ball to her. “There you go.”

  The woman caught it and paused. “You’re the ice cream lady.”

  Cassidy got a better look at the woman, and the truth hit her. “And you were in the Crazy Chefette today.”

  Her eyes lit with satisfaction. “That’s totally my place.”

  “You are the Crazy Chefette?”

  “The one and only. I’m Lisa.”

  Now that she mentioned it, Lisa did resemble the cartoon head on the restaurant’s sign. “I’m Cassidy, and I loved the grilled cheese with peaches. It was surprisingly tasty.”

  Her eyes widened. “I know, right? Isn’t it good? I just love combining weird foods. I’m a scientist by profession and a chef by choice.”

  “You succeeded in the weird food combinations. Good job.”

  “Thanks. I gave up life in the fast lane to move here. I always say I gave up my career but I gained my life.”

  Her words struck Cassidy. The idea was foreign . . . and intriguing. Cassidy’s job was her life, the place where she found her identity and accolades and . . . well, her esteem.

  Lisa paused, resting the ball between her arm and hip. “Hey—do you want to play with us? We’re short one player.”

  Cassidy shook her head. The thought of purposefully being around Ty was too headache-inducing.

  “No, that’s okay. I’m . . .” She looked behind her. She’d been about to say busy, but anyone could clearly see that wasn’t the truth.

  Lisa waited. “You’re . . .”

  “Not much of an athlete,” Cassidy finally said.

  Lisa’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, that. It doesn’t matter to us. We just need another body out there. The guys are trying to crush us, and we don’t want that to happen.”

  She’d be playing against Ty? Cassidy was sure Ty would just love that.

  “That settles it,” Lisa said. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  She grabbed Cassidy’s arm. Cassidy’s first instinct was to twist out of the woman’s grasp, but she stopped herself. Cassidy didn’t want to show her skill set. Instead, she let Lisa pull her toward the volleyball game, acting as if she was helpless.

  When they stopped in front of the volleyball net on the beach, Cassidy’s gaze went to Ty. He scowled. Cassidy scowled back.

  “Everyone, this is Cassidy. I’m forcing her to play the game with us. Consider it an initiation into life here on Lantern Beach.”

  “You shouldn’t make her play, Lisa.” Ty grabbed the ball and tossed it in the air, still staring at Cassidy with that brooding gaze. “I’m sure she has better things to do.”

  Just the fact that he didn’t want her here suddenly made Cassidy want to stay and make his life a little more miserable. It wasn’t mature, but it was true.

  “You know what?” Cassidy said. “This actually sounds fun. But I’m warning you that I’m no good.”

  “None of us are.” Lisa grabbed the ball back from Ty. “Now, let’s get this game started!”

  For the next hour, Cassidy gave the game everything she had. She even delighted once in spiking the ball over the net and watching as Ty missed it by a mere inch.

  It had been a long, long time since she’d done anything like this. Since she’d cut loose and not looked over her shoulder every three seconds. No, she’d waited at least thirty seconds instead. It was a start.

  Lisa gave her a high five when they were done. The girls had won. Of course. “Excellent game. And you said you couldn’t play.”

  “Beginner’s luck.” Cassidy didn’t mention that she’d been a softball champion and had turned down a scholarship in order to pursue her degree in criminal justice.

  All for Lucy’s sake.

  “Good job, ladies,” one of the guys—Austin, if Cassidy remembered correctly—said. “Now, who’s ready to eat?”

  Everyone cheered enthusiastically and started toward Ty’s house. They’d done this together before. A lot, if Cassidy had to guess. The comradery between the group was obvious.

  Cassidy slowed her steps as she walked back. Honestly, she’d never been great at the social scene, which was probably one more reason why she’d buried herself in her work. Just hanging out and casually making chitchat? It nearly gave her hives.

  No one guessed she got social anxiety. She covered it well. She’d had no choice but to fake it, especially considering her parents’ social expectations. But she was much better at working than she was at making meaningless conversation. She made goals, not friends. To-do lists, not dates. It had all seemed normal . . . until this very moment.

  “It was fun, y’all,” she said with a little wave as they reached the area where the path split between her place and Ty’s. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  “No, you totally have to eat with us!” Lisa took her arm. “The least we can do is offer you food after I
strong-armed you into playing.”

  “No, really. It’s okay—”

  “Yeah, you should come eat with us.” Ty paused and locked gazes with her.

  Cassidy raised an eyebrow at his sudden change of heart. What was behind his words? Because there was something more there. What did he think he was going to get out of this? The chance to humiliate her? To put her in her place?

  “Ty makes some killer cobia,” Lisa said. “You have to try it. I promise—I did not experiment on this one.”

  Now Cassidy was intrigued. Fresh seafood? An evening spent with people instead of by herself? No one can live without relationships.

  Somehow every time she mentally rattled off one of those inspirational quotes, she heard Lucy’s voice. It was as if her friend was speaking to her from the grave.

  “I won’t take no for an answer.” Lisa grabbed her arm. “Come on.”

  And before she could argue, she was suddenly at Ty’s house. Everyone had grabbed something to drink, and they sat on the deck, watching as pastel colors faded from the sky. Kujo panted beside her, apparently her new best friend.

  Everyone chatted happily with each other, their banter easy and light. Cassidy sat back and observed, which was what she did best. It made her a good detective, she supposed, but a terrible companion.

  Did Ryan care about her proclivity to being an introvert? Cassidy wasn’t sure. They never made any appearances together as a couple. They were waiting to announce themselves until after her undercover assignment and after the election.

  Ryan had decided to run for prosecuting attorney since Rachel Edwards had decided to retire next year. Logically speaking, their arrangement made sense. But in an emotional way, something about the arrangement felt wrong to Cassidy.

  She’d never admitted it—not even to herself—until just now.

  Someone pulled out a grill, and Ty appeared a few minutes later, a platter of fish in his hands. As he slapped the fillets on the fire, a savory scent filled the air, mingling with the laughter and banter around her.

  These people had something Cassidy didn’t, she realized. Belonging.

  Sure, Cassidy had fit in with the police force, she supposed. But everyone just assumed she had the job because her dad could get anything he wanted simply based on his net worth, which yielded unseemly power and influence. That she hadn’t actually earned her position. Here, no one would befriend her for what she could do for them. Or what her family could do for them. It was refreshing and terrifying at the same time.