Witch Out of Water Read online

  Galen exhaled heavily and pressed his hand to the small of my back as he ushered me toward the hallway. “Let’s not turn this into a thing, shall we? There’s no reason to get all … feisty.”

  “I don’t believe that word has ever been used to describe me,” Rose supplied evenly.

  I could believe that. The woman was cold to the bone. “How sad for you,” I muttered.

  “Come on. Let’s have lunch.” Galen kept his hand on my back as he directed me down the hallway, not stopping until we entered a tiny room that featured one counter and two small tables. It was deserted, which somehow made me breathe easier. “This is a nice surprise.”

  Galen grabbed two sodas from the tiny refrigerator lodged between the cabinet doors and plopped them on the table before sitting next to me. I could tell he had a lot of questions – most of which I wasn’t ready to answer – but he wisely decided to get the pleasantries out of the way before diving in.

  “How did you sleep last night?”

  “Oh, well … .” I broke off and furrowed my brow. “May was waiting for me when I got home. She had tea brewed and everything.”

  “That’s nice.”

  I could think of a few other words to describe it. “I think it’s weird. I’ve never had a hands-on grandmother before. Now I have one who is a ghost. She makes tea, asks questions and then disappears before answering anything I want to ask her. It’s … frustrating.”

  Galen chuckled. “May was always like that. She only talked about what she wanted to talk about. You’ll get used to it.”

  “Well, she said that she wasn’t surprised Booker was dating both girls and that he’s known as something of a ladies’ man, that women are somehow magically drawn to him.”

  Galen unwrapped his sandwich, his expression never shifting. “That’s probably a fair assessment.”

  “Do you want to know what’s funny? I tracked down Booker today and he said almost the exact same thing. I mean … he used the same words and everything.”

  Galen paused before he bit into his sandwich. “You tracked down Booker?”

  “It wasn’t hard. He was at the tourism center on the beach. He was scraping letters.”

  “Well … .” Galen looked to be at a loss.

  “I told him I thought it was weird he was dating two women at once. All he said was that he was popular and women love him.”

  “That sounds like Booker.” Galen wrinkled his nose. “How much time did you spend with him?”

  “Not much. He was dismissive and not overly chatty.”

  “He might think his personal life is none of your business.”

  “It’s not.” I understood that, even if I didn’t like it. “I still find the fact that he was dating two women at once disturbing.”

  “And I find the fact that you’re fixated on that little detail frustrating,” Galen admitted. “It makes me nervous that you’re so invested in what Booker is doing with his personal life.”

  The admission threw me for a loop. “Why are you nervous? I … that’s ridiculous. You have nothing to be nervous about.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m not interested in Booker,” I added. “I’m interested in finding out why he’s dating two women, one of whom turned up dead, and he doesn’t even seem to care.”

  Galen bit into his sandwich, his expression thoughtful. He didn’t speak again until after he swallowed. “I can’t give you answers. I don’t have insight into Booker’s dating habits. We’re not that close.”

  “Yeah, well … .” I decided to let it go and change the subject. “Do you have any new information on Trish Doyle’s death?”

  “I do.” Galen bobbed his head. “Ashley Conner is in custody because her alibi didn’t check out. People remember seeing her at the festival early and late, but there are two hours in there she can’t account for. Trish died in that timeframe.”

  That was disturbing news. I pictured Ashley’s face from the night before. “She seemed legitimately surprised when she saw Trish’s body.”

  “She did. Of course, that could’ve been an act.”

  “Do you believe it was an act?”

  “I believe … .” Galen broke off, as if searching for the correct phrasing. “I believe that she was genuinely upset. Whether she was upset because she killed Trish and felt guilty or was simply surprised, I can’t say. Right now, though, she has motive and means.”

  “How does she have means?”

  “She was hanging around and can’t account for her time. She had access to knives and although we haven’t tracked that specific one it’s possible it belongs to her.”

  “That doesn’t seem like reason enough to arrest her.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Hadley.” Galen’s demeanor was stern. “She’d threatened the victim hours before Trish turned up dead. She has no alibi. She’s being held here for the time being.”

  He was firm and yet I struggled to wrap my head around what he was saying. “Are you going to charge her?”

  “That’s up to the prosecutor’s office.”

  “When will they decide?”

  “When they decide.” Galen bit into his sandwich and stared as he chewed. I was uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “Can I ask why you’re so invested in this?”

  I shrugged as I tugged the lid off the pasta salad. “I don’t know. I just feel … engaged … in the process. If you expect me to explain, I can’t. I just want to know what happened to her and why.”

  “Is it because you saw the fight in Lilac’s bar?”

  “I … don’t know.”

  “Is it because you were with me when the body was discovered?”

  “I just told you I don’t know.” My temper came out to play. “I can’t explain it. I don’t expect you to understand. I just … want to know what happened to her.”

  Galen used a napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth, tilting his head to the side as he considered my morose countenance. “Fine. I’ll keep you updated on the investigation. You might not like what that entails, but it’s the best I can do.”

  I didn’t expect to get a promise like that out of him, so I was happy to take it. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, can we enjoy this wonderful lunch you obviously slaved over all morning? I think we’ve both earned it.”

  I made a face as he smirked. “There’s no need to get snarky. We both know I’m not the type to slave over a stove … well, ever.”

  “That’s okay.” Galen patted my hand. “You’re a great shopper. In fact … .” He trailed off and snapped his head in the direction of the lobby. I didn’t hear anything, so I was confused by the shift in his expression.

  I was instantly on alert. “What’s going on?”

  “Stay here.” Galen was on his feet and striding down the hallway before I had registered the loud voices in the lobby.

  Even though he ordered me to stay behind, I scampered after him. I wasn’t keen on being separated in case something big went down and my natural busybody tendencies didn’t allow me to ignore potential investigation information should it arise.

  By the time I got to the lobby Galen had positioned himself between two men – both of whom looked to be in their fifties – as they were sniping at each other as Moonstone Bay’s sheriff worked overtime to calm them.

  “This is not the place for this,” Galen snapped, his eyes briefly landing on me. “I thought I told you to stay in the cafeteria.”

  I held my hands palms up, my shoulders hopping. “I wanted to serve as backup in case you needed it.”

  Galen offered a “whatever” face. “Right. You stay over there and don’t get in the middle of this. I mean it. Rose, call for backup.”

  Rose didn’t look eager to jump to attention and follow Galen’s orders. “I already did. Your backup should be here shortly.”

  “Great.” Galen slowly turned his attention back to the arguing men. I couldn’t make out much of what they were shouting, but there seemed to
be a lot of “kiss my ass” and “I hope you die a terrible death” statements.

  “You guys knock this off now!” Galen bellowed, causing both men to snap their mouths shut and widen their eyes.

  Galen tentatively lowered his hands but remained alert should the fight resume. “That’s better.”

  “Speak for yourself, Galen,” one of the men hissed. “Nothing is better. My daughter is dead and you have the audacity to say things are better? What kind of sheriff are you?”

  My eyebrows hopped as I realized one of the men, the schlubby one to the right with a pronounced bald spot and an ill-fitting shirt, was clearly Trish Doyle’s father.

  “And I told you last night, Gus, that I was sorry for your loss and have every intention of finding out what happened to Trish.” Galen’s voice turned softer, although the edge remained. “I really am sorry about what happened to Trish, and I know things aren’t better for you. That was a poor choice of words.”

  “And what about me?” the other man challenged. “Do you think things are better for me?”

  “No one cares how things are for you, Henry,” Gus growled as he used a handkerchief to mop his sweaty brow. “In fact, if you never spoke again we’d all be happy.”

  “Says you,” Henry fired back.

  “You think people want to hear you talk?”

  “No, I think people want to hear you shut up. Permanently.” Henry threw himself at Gus, intent on great bodily harm to his face, but Galen was ready and stopped him before he could carry out the attack.

  “Knock this off right now,” Galen hissed. “This is not a respectful and mature way to handle a beef.”

  Gus let loose a “well, duh” eye roll that caused my stomach to flip. “Really? Do you think we don’t know that? How stupid do you think we are?”

  I was absolutely flummoxed by the display of ill-tempered testosterone. Rose must have read the confusion on my face because she decided to explain things.

  “That’s Henry Conner,” she whispered. “He’s Ashley’s father. He’s been in a longstanding feud with Gus since … well, I think it was at least the late eighties. I’m not really clear on the timeline.”

  I wasn’t Rose’s biggest fan, but I was thankful for the gossip. Galen clearly had his hands full and couldn’t indulge my nosy side. “So, they’ve been fighting for years and now one of their daughters has been arrested for murdering the other’s daughter? That can’t be good.”

  “Way to state the obvious.”

  I frowned. “I was merely making an observation.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You need to be quiet so I can hear the fight. This is going to be the talk of the festival later and it’s not often I have a ringside seat for these things.”

  “Well, at least you have your priorities in order.”

  “Says the woman who tried to sweet talk her honey with lunch in exchange for information she shouldn’t be privy to,” Rose drawled.

  I wanted to argue the point but she wasn’t wrong. Instead, I focused on Gus and Henry and pretended I didn’t feel guilty for being called to the mat due to my despicable behavior.

  “My daughter is dead,” Gus screeched. “My sweet little girl, the light of my life, is dead. This … animal … is to blame. I want him arrested.”

  Despite the difficult situation, Galen remained in control. “Henry didn’t kill Trish. He was at the Elks lodge. I checked his alibi. It holds up.”

  Gus was flustered. “I’m not saying he killed her himself. He armed that two-bit hooker of a daughter he’s so proud of and had her kill my Trish. That’s the only explanation.”

  Henry was positively apoplectic. “I did no such thing. My Ashley is an angel. She would never hurt anyone. That’s not how she is. Besides, your daughter was notorious around town for sleeping with anyone – including married men. The list of people who would want to do her harm has to be long and sundry.”

  “You take that back!” Gus growled.

  “Never! My daughter is innocent. She’s been locked up and it’s a miscarriage of justice. I’m going to call Johnnie Cochran.”

  “I think Johnnie Cochran is dead,” I offered helpfully, earning a withering look from Galen.

  “That did it.” Galen had had enough. “Hadley, I want to thank you very much for the lunchtime surprise, but I’m going to have to end my break early. As you can see, I have my hands full here.”

  I instinctively straightened. “Right.”

  Galen waited a beat. When I didn’t move, he sighed. “That means you have to leave, darling. I need to focus on Gus and Henry. I can’t do that when I’m worried you might accidentally get hurt while trying to eavesdrop … or do whatever other wacky thing that busy brain of yours comes up with.”

  I was pretty sure that was an insult, but I could hardly blame him. He did have work to do. “Okay, well … I guess I’ll see you later.” I edged toward the door. “Let me know how much later if you get a chance.”

  Galen kept a firm grip on the fronts of both men’s shirts to make sure they didn’t make a break for it. “I will call you as soon as I can. Just … go.”

  “Don’t forget me.” It took everything I had to drag my eyes from the scene. “I won’t be waiting by the phone or anything, but don’t forget to call anyway.”

  Galen sighed. “Get out.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “We’re going to talk about your attitude later.”

  “We definitely are.”

  7

  Seven

  I wanted to be agitated with Galen for kicking me out of his office, but I couldn’t pull it off. He had a job to do and I was in the way. He wasn’t wrong to question my interest in the case. I couldn’t explain even to myself why I was so desperate to find answers. I couldn’t explain to him why it was so important when I didn’t fully understand myself.

  I was agitated and restless, so I needed to entertain myself for a few hours. Doing it at Lilac’s bar wasn’t enticing and I’d already spent time with Booker – the only other person on the island I really knew to any degree – so I had a decision to make. Ultimately, I found one of the three cabs Moonstone Bay boasted on the main drag and paid the driver – a delightful man named Aaron – to drop me on my grandfather’s doorstep.

  Oh, yeah, I have a grandfather. I didn’t know he existed until a few days after I’d landed on Moonstone Bay. Apparently he and May divorced decades before I arrived … but that didn’t stop them from having sex on a regular basis. I was fairly traumatized by that little detail. I got over it quickly when my grandfather shot a homicidal lawyer to protect me.

  Our relationship was a work in progress.

  If Wesley Durham – I had trouble calling him “Grandpa” – was surprised to see a cab dropping me off, he didn’t show it. He wandered from the nearby barn and arched an eyebrow when he realized who was visiting.

  “Hello, Hadley.”

  “Mr. Durham.” I straightened my shoulders. “I … um … thought I would drop by for a visit.” I felt inexplicably stupid as I regarded him.

  For his part, he seemed more amused than I felt. “You don’t have to call me ‘Mr. Durham.’ You know that, right?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t know what else to call you.”

  “It’s too soon for something cutesy. I agree with you there.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. Wesley was a rough and tumble guy with a gritty personality. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to think of him in a cutesy manner.

  “How about you call me Wesley for now?” he suggested after a moment. “I only allow bankers and grifters to call me ‘Mr. Durham,’ so we need to compromise.”

  It felt weird to call my grandfather ‘Wesley,’ but I didn’t see where I had many options. “Okay. Wesley it is.”

  “Good.” He tilted his head to the side as he looked me up and down. “You’re kind of wound up, huh? What have you been doing with your day?”

  The observation caught me off guard. “Oh, well … .”


  “Hold up.” Wesley held up a hand to quiet me. “If we’re going to have us a visit we should probably do it proper-like. That means you need something to drink and I need to take a break and put on my entertaining cap.”

  “You have an entertaining cap?”

  Wesley shrugged. “I’m trying here. Can you not give me too much grief?”

  That seemed a fair request. “Okay. No grief.”

  “Take a seat on the porch.” He pointed. “I’ll join you directly.”

  WESLEY TOOK ONLY twenty minutes to put together a pitcher of tea and change his clothes. When he joined me in the sitting area on his wrap-around porch, I was much more settled than when I’d arrived.

  “I don’t have lemon for the tea.” Wesley screwed up his face as he stared at the tray he delivered to the center of the table. “I’ll try to remember that for next time.”

  “I don’t need lemon.” I forced a smile for his benefit as I grabbed a glass and drank half of it down. “See. The tea is great without lemon.”

  Wesley arched an eyebrow as he sat on the rustic bench and leaned back so he could give me a long once over. “You look a little manic.”

  That was an interesting observation. “You barely know me. How can you recognize that?”

  “Your mother had the same look about her at times. I grew to hate it when she looked manic.”

  My stomach twisted at mention of my mother. That’s when I realized I had a mountain of things I wanted to discuss with Wesley. I probably should’ve made this trip sooner.

  “I saw her,” I volunteered, choosing my words carefully. “Mom, I mean. She’s in the cemetery. She gets up and wanders around after dark.”

  Wesley’s expression didn’t shift. “I know. I’ve seen her a time or two myself.”

  “I didn’t think you were much for visiting town.”

  “I visited May when I could over the years. I visited your mother, too, even though that was … different.”

  He looked so sad my heart went out to him. “When Galen showed me what was going on in the cemetery I was kind of upset. At least … I think I was upset.”