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

“I wanted to walk her to her car, but she insisted on staying longer, so I left.”

“And you never saw anyone else there?”

He hesitates like he’s holding something back and I’m expecting his next words to be a lie. “Just the dog.”

Hmmm…. Sebastian is telling the truth.

“One more question. Why did she want to meet inside the rec center? Why not here at the rectory? And how did you get inside the building?”

“That’s two questions.”

I give him the same look I use on Tony, our flour vendor, when he’s late on his deliveries. I mean, how am I supposed to make muffins without flour?

It works because Sebastian answers, “I thought the rec center location was odd, not to mention illegal since we didn’t have a right to meet there, but she was adamant. She said that since the building was haunted—her words, not mine—that it was the best location. She told me to go in through the side door. It was unlocked when I got there.”

“You know they have security cameras? According to Travis Fontaine, you and Abby are the only ones who went into the building that night.”

“That’s what he told me.”

“Sebastian, this all looks really bad.”

“In what way?”

“In what way? If the police think that Abby was pushed or was involved in a struggle, then the fall that caused her death isn’t accidental. And if you’re the only person who was there that night… Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Are you saying that the police think I caused Abby’s death?” He shuts his eyes for a few long seconds. “Dear God. They’re right. This is all my fault. I should never have left her alone. I should have demanded that she allow me to walk her to her car.”

“Oh no. You don’t get to play the martyr. If someone did cause Abby’s death, then that’s on them. But don’t you see? You have to tell me who she thought was possessed, because obviously whoever it was, might have had a motive to hurt Abby.”

“I can tell you positively one hundred percent that the…person she thought was possessed didn’t kill her.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I just am.”

“And I thought I was the stubborn one in the family,” I mutter.

“Why don’t we let the police do their jobs? If anything sinister happened, then the truth will come out eventually.”

“Eventually? You’re so trusting of everyone. Zeke, sure, he’s on our side. But this new guy? You should have seen the gleam in his eyes. He’s practically feral.”

“I think you’ve been watching too many episodes of America’s Most Vicious Criminals.”

“And you haven’t seen enough of them. You should see how wonky the evidence can be in these cases! There’s plenty of innocent people who’ve been railroaded by the police, believe you me.”

“Lu-cy,” he says, mimicking Ricky Ricardo from the old I Love Lucy series. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Usually, this makes me laugh, but not today.

“I know that Travis Fontaine has it out for you. What? Did you make him say too many Hail Mary’s as penance on his last confession?”

Sebastian grunts. “First off, I never give out Hail Mary’s as penance. That’s old school. And it’s called reconciliation now, which you would know if you ever went.”

“I go. Sometimes. Just not to you. Now don’t change the subject.” I decide to pull out the big guns. “I should call mom and dad and tell them what’s going on. I bet Mom could make you tell the cops what they want to know.”

Sebastian gives me a look that makes me shrink into th

e sofa. “Don’t you dare ruin mom and dad’s last week at the cabin.”