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

“Witnesses? Who have you been talking to?”

He pulls out that notebook of his. “Gus Pappas, Viola Pantini—”

“Okay, okay.” I blow out a breath. “I get it.”

I should never have underestimated this guy.

“Sure, Abby and I had a few words, but it was nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.”

“The tuna salad sandwich ruse is a little game Abby plays about once a month to get a free lunch. She orders it, then when I bring it out to her, she claims that I got the order wrong. Then I bring her what she really wants, a roast beef on rye and we give it to her for free.”

“If you know that she’s just yanking your chain, then why go along with it? Why not call her out on it?”

“Because I don’t want to accuse her of lying.”

“How do you know it’s a lie? Maybe she’s just forgetful.”

“Oh, it’s a lie, because—” I snap my mouth shut.

“Because what?”

Rats.

“You’re right, maybe she has dementia.” I try to sound meek even though it’s killing me, but the last thing I want to do is admit my gift to Officer Fontaine. “I give her a free sandwich because I don’t want to embarrass her and because other than the sandwich game, she’s a good customer. Or rather, she was a good customer.”

I shudder. I still can’t believe she’s gone. Poor Abby. What she was doing all alone in the rec center?

It’s been two days, but I can still see it all so clearly. Abby, lying on the ground like she’s asleep, wearing her tan skirt with sensible shoes…

Wait again.

My brain zeroes in on something.

Abby was wearing a tan skirt, sweater, and her brown loafers. It’s a variation of what she wears most days when it’s cool outside. But she specifically told me that she was going to be dressed as Annette Funicello.

So why wasn’t she in costume?

The answer is obvious. I remember feeling her skin. She was cold and stiff. As if she’d been there a while…

Travis’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “But last Friday, you did challenge her.”

“What?”

“The tuna salad sandwich?” he prompts.

“Oh, right. I was tired. I’d been up late baking, and I was little friskier than usual.” Now it’s my turn to ask questions. “Why all this interest in what happened Friday? Have you figured out what Abby was doing in the rec center? Did she get in through the side door? Did you dust it for prints? Remember, you’re going to find mine there.”

“First things first.” Travis flips through the pages in his notebook until he finds what he’s looking for. “On the day of the rec center celebration you and Sarah Powers were working in your food booth, and according to Mrs. Powers, Will Cunningham and your brother Sebastian came by around ten-thirty?”

That’s Father McGuffin to you, buddy.

“That’s right.”

“But your brother wandered off, leaving Will and Brittany Kelly at the booth with you and Sarah Powers for about, what? Twenty minutes or so before you decided to go back into the building? And that’s when you found the dog?”

“I already told you this at least four times the other day. And my brother didn’t wander off. He and your dad went to go check out the rest of the food booths.”