Ready to Fumble (The Worst Detective Ever Book 1) Read online

  “Okay, but I’m going to pick some good ones.”

  I’d eat here quickly, find out if anyone knew my dad, and then keep searching for Lily. It would be multitasking at its finest, but my priority had turned to Simon’s death.

  I let out a sigh. I was great at pretending, at living in a fantasy world, at creating. But I was terrible at logistics and rationality, especially when formulating plans. And now I’d found myself embroiled in not one but two mysteries. How had this happened?

  I scanned the place. It seemed like the kind of establishment that would have regulars. Something about the place gave off that vibe. Regulars could work to my advantage, especially if my dad had come in here often.

  “Can I help you, or do you want to wait for your friend?” the waitress asked.

  I glanced at her name tag. Erma.

  “Actually, could you answer a question for me?” I started.

  “Sure thing, honey. But if it’s about the best nightlife in this area, I’m not going to be of much help.”

  “No, it’s not about that. I’m actually looking for information on this man.” I held up my dad’s picture.

  “Lew? Yeah, I knew Lew. I sure do miss seeing him around here. What’s going on? Is he in trouble?”

  I rubbed my lips together. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  She stepped back. “I know you. You’re Raven Remington!”

  I glanced around, hoping no one else had heard her. Everyone had. The rest of the patrons stared at me now, and I offered a feeble smile and wave.

  “I loved your show. It was the bomb diggity! I only wished you’d ended up with Hank Harstead instead of that Sam Butler. That really burned me up inside.”

  “I’m . . . sorry?” I never knew how to respond when people said stuff like that.

  Hooray that they were so invested!

  Boo that the lines between reality and fantasy were so blurred.

  I glanced at Zane. He still mulled over the jukebox. But I knew my time to ask questions was quickly dwindling.

  “Can I get your autograph?” Erma continued, pulling out her order pad and a pen and handing it to me.

  “My autograph?”

  “Oh please? And maybe a signed picture that we can put on the wall? We have Sandra Bullock’s and Tiger Woods’s already. Could we add you to our wall of fame?”

  I glanced over, and sure enough, I saw their smiling mugs. “Of course. I’ll bring one by.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Oh thank you!”

  I quickly signed her pad and handed it back to her. “So, about Lew . . .”

  “Yes! Lew. What about him?”

  “Do you remember the last time you saw him?”

  “It’s been a couple of months.”

  “Did anything seem wrong?”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “You’re investigating, aren’t you? Just like you do on TV?”

  “I don’t know I’d say that.”

  “Oh, this is so exciting. I feel like I’m in an episode with you!”

  I laughed feebly. “Is that right?”

  “You’ve just made my day.” She jutted her hip out and looked to the left. “Now, let’s see. How can I help your investigation?” She snapped her fingers. “I know something. I know something!”

  My spine straightened with anticipation “You do?”

  “Lew was meeting in here with someone last time he came.”

  I nodded, waiting for her to share more information. She didn’t.

  “Who was he meeting with?” I asked.

  “Oh, I have no idea.”

  My hope deflated. “No idea at all?”

  “Never seen him before.”

  “Well, how did the conversation seem?”

  “Heated. Intense. Unhappy.”

  My gut twisted. My dad wasn’t the type to get himself in trouble. That didn’t even sound like him.

  “Can you describe the man he was meeting with? Was there anything distinct about him?”

  Her eyes fluttered up to the left again. Then she snapped her fingers again. “He had a tattoo. Right here on his bicep. It was of a skull and crossbones.”

  Again, my hopes deflated. How many people would have that?

  “There was also some words there. Words written in a different language. I couldn’t tell you what. I hope that helps. A little, at least.”

  I nodded. “It does. Thank you.”

  Zane joined me two minutes later, and strands from a Twenty One Pilots song played throughout the restaurant. He grinned as he slid into the booth.

  “You caused quite the commotion over here. ‘Oh, it’s Raven Remington. I can’t believe it. She’s so cool!’” He said it with an exaggerated high pitch, his hands flailing in the air.

  “What can I say? I know how to cause a stir.”

  Erma appeared again. I hadn’t ordered, yet she brought over drinks, fried fish, french fries, crabs, and soup.

  “It’s on the house,” she said. “Consider yourself our guest.”

  “Wow. This is so generous,” I started.

  She winked. “Only the best for Raven. You’ve helped enough people in your day.”

  I’d actually helped very few people but myself, but I didn’t mention that.

  “Thank you,” I said instead.

  She beamed and walked away. And I looked at the food. There wasn’t a vegetable in sight, and nothing was raw.

  I’d planned on ordering a salad.

  I suppressed a sigh as the spicy scent of the food wafted toward me. If I closed my eyes, I could practically taste the creamy soup topped with Old Bay. I could feel the buttery crabmeat rolling on my taste buds. I could feel the crunchy pop of the breaded fish as my teeth sank into it. And the french fries . . . don’t get me started on potatoes. I could eat those all day.

  Today, Fatty Shack would live up to its name.

  “Joey?”

  I pulled my eyes open, hoping I hadn’t drooled.

  “Everything okay?”

  I nodded. “Um, yeah. Just fine.”

  So what if I was supposed to be on a diet. I wasn’t being offered any roles right now. I could gain ten pounds and no one would care.

  I was going to eat this seafood, and I was going to enjoy it.

  I grabbed a piece of fish and sank my teeth into it. It was just as tasty as I’d imagined. Like, really, really tasty.

  Why did I deprive myself of food like this?

  “So, I’ve kind of avoided this subject,” Zane started. “But I think it’s so cool that you’re famous.”

  I paused with a crab leg in my mouth, picked up my napkin, and wiped what I was nearly certain was butter dripping down my chin. “Oh yeah?”

  “I watched your show. My friends and I had parties, actually.”

  “That’s . . . flattering.”

  “One of my friends went into mourning when the show was canceled.”

  “I’m . . . sorry.”

  Again, it was times like these I wanted to yell out “line!” so I could have something more thoughtful to say.

  He plucked up a fry. “So how were you even discovered?”

  “Truthfully? I was in a local production up in Roanoke, Virginia, where I grew up. Much Ado about Nothing. We were performing outside for a Shakespeare in the Park series. My dad always told me that you couldn’t make a living as an actress. So I was cutting hair in order to pay my way through college. On the side, I got little acting parts in community theater productions. Nothing groundbreaking.” I finished that crab leg and decided eating crab legs wasn’t the most flattering thing I could be doing right now.

  Instead, I pulled the soup closer. I could already taste the Old Bay without taking a single bite. And oh, did it smell good.

  “A producer was in the area, scouting out locations for a new movie he was filming. A romantic comedy. He just happened to be at our production that night. He saw me and waited to meet with me afterward.”

  “Wow. You
weren’t even looking, huh?”

  I shook my head. No, I’d been the sweet, small-town girl who’d been plucked from obscurity. I’d been the one who’d said I wouldn’t let fame change me.

  I’d been wrong.

  “He said I still had to audition to make things official. So I did. I got the lead role in Yesterday’s Tomorrow. The movie was a moderate success. Not a blockbuster, but not straight to video. And it was fun. It was shot in my hometown, so the people there got to walk through the experience with me.”

  “So cool.”

  “As soon as that movie wrapped, I figured I’d return to cutting hair. But a manager approached me and said he thought I could be the next big thing. There was this new TV show in development, and he asked if I’d be interested in auditioning for it.”

  “And you said?”

  “At first I said no. He told me I was going to have to move to LA, and I had no desire to move to LA. I wanted to stay close to my dad. My dad wanted me to stay close to him, too, for that matter. I was only twenty.” I took a long sip of my water. This place was suddenly feeling hot. “But the idea began to grow on me. I figured it was the opportunity of a lifetime. I had to at least try, right? I mean, I didn’t want to wake up one day with regrets.”

  “Makes sense to me.”

  If anyone would understand that, it would be Zane. He seemed like a seize-the-day type of guy. “So against my father’s wishes, I packed up my bags and went to LA. I was terrified. But I did it. I auditioned and thought I flubbed it. I was certain I’d be headed back home, but I figured I’d given it the old college try. To my surprise, I got the role.”

  “That’s pretty amazing. Some people try for their whole lives to get roles like that. You kind of stumbled into it.”

  Stumbled would be right. That’s what I’d spent most of my life doing.

  “I know. And I was grateful. But everything came at a cost, you know?” I shrugged, knowing I was going deeper than I was comfortable with. “Anyway, the rest is history, as they say.”

  “You’re not really like the tabloids portray you.”

  “Am I worse or better?”

  “Oh, girl. You’re better. It couldn’t get much worse.”

  I supposed it was a compliment, but it didn’t feel like it.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Zane said.

  “It’s okay. I get it.”

  “They paint you as a diva. Reckless. Spoiled.”

  “You can stop now,” I told him.

  “But you don’t come across like that all. You seem really down to earth.”

  “Sometimes in life you have wake-up calls. You know?”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  I desperately needed to turn the subject off myself. “How about you? Did you grow up wanting to be a surfing Realtor?”

  He chuckled. “Not so much. I was actually in sports medicine for a while.”

  “Sports medicine? I thought you said you only studied the waves.”

  “I may have been exaggerating ever so slightly. I worked for a major league team. The Tampa Bay Rays. But I got tired of the rat race. Life is too short, you know?”

  “Yeah, I do know.”

  “Being here is like living the dream and living life as it was meant to be. There are more important things than money. Things like surfing. You ever done it before?”

  “No, I can’t say I have.”

  “Well, if you’re still around in the summer, I’ll teach you. There’s nothing like it. It’s total freedom. You ride the waves and all of your worries disappear.”

  “I like the sound of that.” I’d never considered surfing before, but he was selling the idea. “How long have you been here, Zane?”

  “I grew up here, but then moved away, vowing I wouldn’t come back. Now I’m here again, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even not having a retirement plan. I figure I’ll just work until I die.”

  “Well, at least it’s a plan.”

  We shared a smile. Maybe there was more to Zane than I realized.

  Just like there was more to me than most people realized.

  I wished I could just sit here and talk to Zane and eat like life was normal and I had no worries, but I really had to keep investigating.

  When I walked out to my car a few minutes later, I saw a piece of paper tucked beneath the windshield wiper. A white perfect square.

  Just like the one that had been left with the shoes this morning.

  Ten

  I stared at the words on the paper, my brain going crazy.

  “What is it?” Zane peered over my shoulder. I could feel his body heat behind me, and the awareness intrigued me more than it should.

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” I muttered. Finally I handed him the paper. “You read it.”

  “Solve this mystery or someone else will die.” Zane scratched his head. “What does that mean? That the killer will kill again unless you catch him? Or that the sender of the note will kill someone if you don’t do what they say?”

  I shivered. “I have no idea, but I don’t like the sound of that.”

  I glanced around. Someone had followed me.

  Simon’s killer?

  Why was someone trying to pull me into this? I was ready to let it go. I should just concentrate on my father’s disappearance.

  But someone was determined that I would be involved in Simon’s murder investigation. Why? I was definitely going to have to report this to Detective Sullivan. I’d been hoping to take a breather from his dirty looks, but it didn’t look like that would happen.

  “We need to get out of here,” I said. I felt exposed, and I didn’t like it. I climbed into my car and cranked the heat. “I do want to run past Seacret Escape one more time, if you don’t mind.”

  “What about the note?”

  I put the car in reverse. “Someone seems to be playing a cruel joke. Maybe they know who Raven is, and they think all of this is a game.”

  “It’s got you shaken up, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I guess it does. Death in movies can be funny. Death in real life? Not so much.”

  “I concur.”

  “Do you want me to drop you off at your place first?”

  “Nah, I’m along for the ride. Let’s go.”

  Ten minutes later I pulled up to Seacret Escape. Lily’s car wasn’t there. I supposed I hadn’t expected it to be.

  But there was a van next door.

  “Maybe I should come with you this time. Just in case . . . you know.” Zane shrugged.

  In case any insane note writers appeared? “Good idea.”

  We crossed the lawn between the homes—if sand dotted with sprouts of seagrass could be considered a lawn. I pounded on the neighbor’s door and hoped someone would answer.

  A moment later, someone did. A woman in her thirties with a toddler on her hip. More children cried in the background, and stacks of boxes towered behind her.

  “Can I help you?” she asked through the storm door.

  “Hi, there. I’m—we’re—actually looking for your neighbor, and I wondered if you’d seen her recently. Her name is Lily.”

  She frowned and bounced the squirming child on her hip. “I haven’t seen her today.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “She squealed into the driveway last night around midnight. Her radio was blaring. Very inconsiderate. I’d just gotten the boys to sleep an hour earlier after their dad gave them chocolate sundaes before bedtime. I thought they’d never go to sleep.”

  “Did you happen to see her?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I looked out the window, tempted to give her a piece of my mind. I had a rough day anyway. The painters didn’t show up like they said, and I’m only here for ten days to get this place spruced up.”

  “You’re the owner?” I asked, trying to establish a rapport.

  “Five years. Not sure if it was the best or worst decision of my life.”

  “Nice place.” I shift
ed. “Anything seem off about your neighbor?”

  She paused and observed me for a moment. “Look, what’s going on? Is she okay? What’s with all of these questions?”

  I glanced at Zane. “We don’t know. We’re friends . . . trying to locate her. She could be in danger.”

  The woman frowned but seemed to accept my answer. “Well, she had a man with her last night.”

  I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “A man?”

  “I couldn’t see his face, but they appeared to be arguing. He looked a little rough, you know. When they walked inside, he was gripping her arm. I wasn’t sure if he was escorting her or if something else was up.”

  I squirmed at the thought. Men using their power to control women? It wasn’t cool. “You didn’t hear anything though?”

  “No. I wish I could help you more.”

  “You’ve been plenty of help. Thank you.”

  “There is one more thing.”

  I paused and turned back toward her.

  “This may not mean anything, but she drove a silver BMW. I saw one similar to that parked at the Nags Head Pier when I drove past it a couple of hours ago.”

  “Thanks. That’s a big help.”

  When I pulled up to the pier, Detective Sullivan was there. Perhaps that was because I’d done the responsible thing and called him. I knew how bad it would look if I found something there and only called him afterward. I might even make the suspect list.

  There were also two other police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance at the scene.

  “It’s like we’ve stepped into an episode of Relentless,” Zane whispered.

  Exactly. It was too much like that. Eerily so. Purposefully so.

  As Zane and I approached the scene, the first thing I spotted was the police line that had been strung up between the pilings of the pier.

  The blood drained from my face. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.

  My boot-clad feet trod through the sand, which was challenging on a normal day. But today my steps felt leaden. Not even the cold ocean breeze bothered me. No, my chill ran much deeper.

  Detective Sullivan strode my way, and I braced myself for whatever conversation might occur. The detective’s gaze shifted to Zane, and his eyes briefly narrowed before he looked back at me.