Stiff in the Sand Read online

  I gritted my teeth but managed to hold back a snide comment. “Then, Robbie pulled James aside. They were closer to me at that point. I was hiding next to the ice machine.” My cheeks. How they burned with shame.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  My eyes were closed but I would’ve bet good money on the detective smirking in a know-it-all way.

  “Robert told James to stay out of the kitchen. He’d warned him about it before, he said. While he was in front of the staff, too, he made a comment about not being surprised that James would make them look unprofessional.”

  “Did he explain that?”

  “No. He didn’t explain it when they were away from the rest of the staff, either. He only told James to stay out of the kitchen and take care of the resort. Then, he walked away, past me. I remember being glad he didn’t see me.”

  “Who walked away?”

  “Robert. When he did, I backed out of the kitchen. I was glad to be out of there. It was one of those really icky situations.” I opened my eyes to find Joe staring at me and oh, boy, did I wish he wouldn’t look at me with those eyes of his. It was unnerving, and not in an entirely bad way.

  “Icky situations. Yes, I guess it would be icky.” He snickered to himself as he made a note. “Then what?”

  “I spoke with Deke outside the kitchen doors, told him some of what happened—that there’d been a fight, I don’t think I got too far into it—then walked through the room and outside, to the pool.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted some air.” And Deke had been insulting.

  “Approximately how much time passed between the scene in the kitchen and the point where you stumbled over the body?”

  “I can’t say with complete accuracy, but five to ten minutes. He must have gone outside to get some air, too, and somebody followed him out.”

  “Please, Miss Harmon. Again with the supposition. I don’t need to hear your take on it, only the facts.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but I didn’t time myself. I’m only trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Then why am I here, if you don’t need my help?”

  He blew out a long sigh. “You are not here to help me solve this. You are here to provide information. Facts. Nothing more.”

  “You should be questioning that sous chef,” Raina suggested, arms folded. She started jigging her foot back and forth, which meant she was good and irritated.

  “Thank you for your expert opinion, but we have that under control.” He looked back to me. “And why, again, are your fingerprints on the murder weapon?”

  “I reacted without thinking.”

  “I find it hard to believe.” He smirked.

  Hot or not, I was getting tired of his attitude. “Unless you’re going to charge me with a crime, I see no reason to stay here and get insulted.”

  Whoa. Had I really just said that? Was I trying to get myself in trouble? Everybody knew only guilty people said things like that. Or red herrings on TV police procedurals. I wasn’t trying to be either of those.

  I continued to babble. “Everything you have against me is circumstantial, so I can’t imagine being considered a suspect. I’ve told you everything I can about what happened last night. I wish it had been anybody but me who’d found the body, since I could be home right now rather than sitting here.”

  “You wouldn’t even try to speak up on an old friend’s behalf? I find that hard to believe.”

  I froze. “Huh? You can’t think…”

  “As of this moment, Miss Harmon, Robert Klein is our prime suspect. Thanks to the information which you’ve provided regarding the argument he and Mr. Flynn engaged in minutes before the murder, to say nothing of his fingerprints on the murder weapon and the fact that no one can account for his whereabouts after the argument you overheard, I’m confident I have enough for an arrest.”

  My mouth fell open. Tears blurred my vision. No. It couldn’t be.

  Had I just signed First Kiss Robbie’s arrest warrant?

  Chapter Nine

  A knock at the door broke the heavy silence.

  “Detective? I have a gentleman out here who says you’re questioning his daughter?”

  Dad. I had never been so glad to know he was around.

  Joe, however, did not appear to share my enthusiasm. “I should’ve known. Do you always travel with an entourage, Miss Harmon?”

  “Only when I find dead bodies,” I smiled sweetly. I was still reeling from the news about Robbie, but I could still be sarcastic.

  “I’d say we’re finished here, anyway,” Raina decided, standing. “If anything, this has been a waste of time for everyone involved. She didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know, and all you’ve done is insult her.”

  “Please, Miss Delancey, I’ve had about enough.” He loosened his necktie with a sigh. “I don’t know about either of you, but I haven’t been home since I started my shift yesterday afternoon. When a man as prominent as James Flynn is murdered, people want answers. I’m only doing my job.”

  For a second—just the splittest of split seconds—I felt sorry for him. I truly did. “If there’s anything else I can provide, please let me know,” I offered, contrite, before reminding myself that this creep wanted to arrest Robbie.

  He inclined his head toward me. “You can stay here in town, since you’re still a person of interest in the case.”

  “Anything but that.”

  Dad entered the room, clearly unable to wait. “My daughter will return home today,” he announced.

  “Pardon me?” Joe’s eyebrows almost left his head, they jumped so high.

  “Call it a professional courtesy, Detective. She’s no more than a half-hour down the road should you need her, and I’ll vouch for her whereabouts. She won’t be leaving the state any time soon. There is no reason for her to live in a hotel room when we both know she didn’t kill that man.”

  “You might think you know, but I never said I did,” Joe reminded him. “It could be that she was angry on behalf of an old friend.”

  Even I had to laugh at that. “Come, now. You can’t believe that.”

  “Can’t I?” he challenged, holding my gaze for a long moment. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re right. You don’t know.” Dad’s arm landed over my shoulders. “As I said, call it a professional courtesy, Detective. I would be most appreciative. You know our departments have worked together in the past.”

  Joe nodded, though he was frowning. “Yes. I know. Very well. Miss Harmon, I would advise you leave the investigating to the professionals. I’ll give you a call if I need anything further from you.”

  “What gives you the idea that I would try to investigate?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  He grinned. “Call it a hunch.”

  I was never so glad to leave any place in all my life. Even so, I couldn’t help but imagine Robbie. What was he going through?

  “Do you think the police are at his house?” I asked Dad as we descended the steps in front of the station. “Maybe they’re going through his things and questioning him? Or maybe they’re at the restaurant, and he’s with them, and they’re peppering him with accusations. Oh, jeez, I feel awful. This is all my fault!”

  “Your fault?” Dad came to a stop when we reached the sidewalk. “What makes you say that?”

  “If I hadn’t gone and told them about the argument with James, they wouldn’t consider him the prime suspect. That detective said he’s going to arrest Robbie for this!”

  Dad patted my back. “You’re going to have to let the police do their job, kiddo.”

  I looked up at him like he’d just started speaking in tongues. “No way. No. I won’t. Not if doing their jobs means charging Robbie with this. They can’t do that!”

  “Honey, if they have the evidence…”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” I threw my hands into the air. “According to the evidence, I’m a suspect because my fingerprints were on t
he knife. That doesn’t mean I killed him. This is all specious at best.”

  “If you had pursued a career with the police department, maybe you could do something about this.”

  Not this again. “Dad. Now’s not the time to lecture me on my career. I know I can help Robbie. I just need the chance.”

  He looked pained, his brows drawing together the way they normally did when he had a headache. “Don’t make me regret promising you’d behave yourself.”

  “You didn’t promise.”

  “No, not in so many words, but my butt’s on the line if you start trouble. Do you understand?” No matter how old I got, there would never be a time when my father couldn’t bring me to heel when he took that tone.

  “Yes,” I sighed, looking at the sidewalk.

  He kissed the top of my head. “And you’ll go straight home after getting your things from the hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He made a move like he was about to go to his car, then paused. “By the way, if it makes you feel any better, once the police start looking into James Flynn’s business interests, they’ll have more than a few suspects to choose from. I wouldn’t start mourning for Robert yet if I were you.”

  Well.

  If the man wanted to dissuade me from getting myself involved, he shouldn’t have said that. My head snapped up. “What’s that mean?”

  His brows drew closer together, until they became a unibrow. “I shouldn’t have said anything. When will I learn?”

  “No, Daddy. Come on. Tell me!” I trotted behind him as he walked to his truck, and Raina trotted behind me. “Please? You can’t leave me hanging like that!”

  “Leave it to the police, doll.” He looked to Raina before climbing into the truck. “See if you can keep her out of trouble?”

  “I can’t make any promises,” she said with a laugh. “But I’ll do my best.”

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” Dad promised before closing the door.

  I watched with a sinking heart as he pulled away from the curb.

  “So?” Raina asked. “Are you gonna be a good girl and go home like your dad asked?”

  I gave her a look. “What do you think?”

  “Good. I was just checking.” She watched as I pulled my phone from my purse. “Who are you calling?”

  “Deke. He took pictures of everything last night. I mean everything. He must’ve seen something. Besides, I wanna tell him I’m going home.” I dialed his number and waited.

  “Hmm,” Raina murmured. “Is he tall? Brown hair? Sort of sexy but in an offbeat way?”

  “Sexy?” I snickered. “I wouldn’t call him sexy. Cute, maybe. But I was too busy trying not to kick him most of the time to notice. Why?”

  When I stopped speaking, I noticed the sound of a ringing phone coming from just behind me.

  Raina’s eyes were wide. “Because he’s standing behind you. Why do you think I was able to describe him?”

  Dang it.

  I turned slowly, lowering the phone. “Hi,” I smiled. “Good morning.”

  He slid his phone into his pocket. “Good morning.” Whether he heard my comment or not was a mystery. With the way my luck was running, he’d heard every word.

  “I was just calling you to say I’m going home. My dad convinced the detective to let me leave town.”

  “I see. Where is home?”

  “Cape Hope. So. Not far. No reason for me to stay here when I could just drive up if need be. Or somebody could drive down.” And there I went again, talking nonstop because I was embarrassed. Even worse than that, now that Raina had described Deke as sexy, I couldn’t stop looking at him that way.

  And I saw that she had a point. He wore a white shirt, the top two buttons open to reveal tanned skin and the barest hint of a firm chest. Slim waist and hips leading to a pair of jeans he was wearing the living heck out of.

  “Thanks for thinking of calling to let me know,” he said. “I’m here to pick up my memory card.”

  “Oh? So they wanted to look at the pictures you took?”

  “Right. I don’t usually hand those over for anything, but…” He shrugged. “What are you gonna do?”

  I chewed my lip. Should I ask? Should I not ask? We hadn’t exactly gotten off on the best foot and he had just overheard me saying I wanted to kick him. The odds weren’t exactly in my favor. But I would question myself endlessly if I didn’t at least try.

  “You think there might be any chance of my taking a look at what you have? I mean, uh, on your memory card. The pictures.”

  “In case you’re looking for the foot that fell out of your mouth, I think it’s around here somewhere…” Raina whispered.

  I hoped he couldn’t hear her. It was bad enough I was blushing hard enough to hurt.

  He kept a straight face, at least. “Sure. I had planned to go over them with a fine-toothed comb, myself. It isn’t every night I come across a woman I’m supposed to be working with as she discovers a dead body.”

  “I’m glad I helped keep things interesting, anyway.”

  “You said you’re going home? Why don’t I drive down tomorrow? I have a few things to take care of today and had planned on driving home, or else I’d suggest meeting up later on.”

  I wondered what he could possibly have to do that was anything nearly as important as this, but for once, I stopped myself before my mouth got the better of me. He didn’t know Robbie from Adam. He had nothing personal riding on this.

  He hadn’t all but pointed the finger at an old friend.

  Just the same, I bristled. “Yeah. I guess tomorrow will work. They won’t put anybody in the electric chair between now and then.”

  Raina clicked her tongue in disapproval, but I didn’t much care. At least, I told myself I didn’t.

  “I don’t think they use the electric chair anymore,” Deke mused aloud before turning to Raina. “Deke Bellingham, by the way.”

  “Oh, hello. I think we’ve met before, actually. Raina Delancey.”

  “Sure! How are you?” He actually smiled at her, too. A real, genuine smile. No sarcasm detected.

  And for the briefest moment, I felt a pang of jealousy I couldn’t understand while they exchanged pleasantries.

  He remembered I was there before long, however. “Okay, so I’ll give you a call tomorrow? We can make plans.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  But he was already halfway down the sidewalk. That was more the Deke I had come to know.

  “Do you know who that is?” Raina whispered when we were alone again.

  “No, but you clearly do.”

  She waved a hand. “Sure, I’ve run into him once or twice. Deacon Bellingham. Bellingham Candy. They make the—”

  “I know the name,” I marveled, watching Deke jog up the stairs and into the station. I’d been eating his grandfather’s candy since I had teeth. “He’s gotta be worth millions.”

  “Tens of millions,” Raina marveled. “What’s he doing taking pictures for Haute Cuisine?”

  I intended to find out.

  Chapter Ten

  “This is just terrible. I can’t imagine. Robbie? Who would ever suspect Robbie of such a thing?”

  “If you don’t stop shaking your head that way, you’re going to have a terrible crick in your neck,” I warned from my stool in the kitchen, where I frosted cupcakes. I had to do something, and sitting alone in my apartment certainly wasn’t helping anything.

  Mom picked up a tray of fresh carrot cake squares with cream cheese frosting which I had just finished decorating. “I would think you’d be a bit more concerned. He was your first love, after all.”

  She was out the swinging door before I processed what she’d said. “Wait, what?” I called out, following her with the offset spatula in hand. “He was no such thing!”

  There were a few people scattered around the café, drinking coffee and enjoying books from next door. All of them looked up at once.

  I waved the spatula. “Sorry
to disturb you,” I murmured before glaring at my mother.

  “Well? Isn’t that how it was?” She seemed to have no trouble discussing anything personally related to me while in the presence of her customers.

  “No. That’s not how it was. And for the love of everything, don’t go spreading that around. It’s bad enough you already told people about what happened last night when I expressly asked you not to. Maybe I should start encouraging you to spread news around. Maybe then, you won’t.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. So I told Trixie and Nell. What’s the big deal?”

  I winced. “Trixie Graham who writes for the Cape Hope Times? Holy jeez, Mom!”

  “Trixie Graham who happens to be a close, personal friend of mine.” True, Trixie had kept the café’s name in the paper in the months after its opening, casually mentioning it from time to time in her “local interest” articles. She and Mom had been thick as thieves from that point on.

  Rather than remind my mother of the line between trusting a friend and keeping in mind what that friend did for a living, I returned to the kitchen and got back to frosting my cupcakes.

  I might have stress-eaten one in the process.

  Why did it feel like every time I had my life under control, it spiraled further out of my grasp? I’d scratched and clawed and turned my blog into a profitable business which had parlayed itself into a chance to write for Haute Cuisine.

  Only to find my boyfriend in bed with a bimbo.

  I’d gone on my first assignment, planning to wow my editor while supporting an old friend.

  Only to discover a dead body and maybe-kinda-sorta get my old friend accused of murder.

  And there was no chance in heck of keeping the news from spreading. Not with Mom using my personal life as a point of interest. And especially not since she knew Robbie personally, and as such could claim personal bereavement at his being accused of the crime.

  I could glue her mouth shut, but anything short of that would be a useless endeavor.