Beach Blanket Homicide (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 1)

I make a mental note to call Lanie and tell that under no circumstances is Paco to end up with Phoebe. Before I can quiz her further on the subject of Paco, Gloria and Victor join us.

“Lucy, how have you been, dear?” Gloria’s blonde hair is braided down her back today. She’s younger than the rest of her group, but she’s got streaks of gray in her hair that make her look older than thirty-nine (I asked her age once). If she cut and colored it, she’d probably look great, but then who am I to be giving out beauty advice? I can barely tweeze my eyebrows.

“I’m fine,” I say automatically.

Gloria turns to Phoebe. “Have you asked her yet?”

Phoebe suddenly looks nervous. “Not yet.”

Gloria reaches across the counter to take my hand in hers. “You know, Lucy, you don’t have to pretend with us.”

“O-kay. Not pretending, but if I was, what would I be pretending about?”

“When you find a dead body, you become linked to it.”

“The spirit needs a conduit to hang on to,” says Victor. “Chances are, Abby’s spirit is hanging on to you.”

“Have you felt different since Saturday?” Gloria asks. She eyes me curiously, and I can’t help but feel creeped out. “We’re expecting Abby to make an appearance any day now. She’s the first of our group to go over to the other side. I’m hoping she can tell us what happened to her.”

Oh, for Pete’s sake. These wackadoos think that Abby is going to communicate with them through me?

I snatch my hand away. “Nope. I don’t feel different at all.”

“It’s just a matter of time before you do. When it happens, you’ll need us.” Gloria slips me her business card. It reads Gloria Hightower, Professional Medium. “Call anytime. Day or night. If I’m not available, then leave a message.”

Victor nods eagerly.

The whole thing is ghoulish. None of them are even sad that Abby has passed. It’s as if they like her more now that she’s potentially a ghost than when she was alive. How messed up is that?

Thankfully, Sarah comes along and saves me by getting their orders. Which means I take the next customer in line.

It’s Rusty. And Travis is with him.

“Morning, Lucy!” says Rusty. “You know what I want.”

I hand Rusty his usual—coffee heavy on the cream and sugar and a lemon poppy seed muffin.

“What’ll you have, Officer Fontaine?”

“Just coffee. Black. And call me Travis.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? Our muffin of the day is pumpkin spice. First one’s on the house.”

“No, thanks. I’m more of a donut guy.”

I knew it! “Then you should try Heidi’s Bakery on Main Street. She makes great donuts, and her coffee isn’t bad either.”

“Thanks. I’ll give it a try.” Apparently, Officer Clueless doesn’t understand sarcasm. “I checked in on Paco this morning,” he adds.

This gets my full attention. “How’s he doing?”

“He seemed to be doing fine.”

Fine? That could mean anything. “Was he eating? How about the shaking?”

“He wasn’t shaking.”

He doesn’t add anything else, so I give him his coffee. “Do you know when Derrick is planning on holding Abby’s service?”