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

He raises a brow playfully. “You never know.”

“So, back to Abby.” I glance around the building. “Let’s say someone wanted to get inside this building without being seen. How do you think they’d do it?”

“You mean how would they avoid the security cameras? From what I can tell, almost every door has one, so it would be almost impossible.”

Not what I wanted to hear since according to Travis, the only people seen on tape entering the building that night were Abby and Sebastian.

He must sense my frustration because he gets up and tosses the rest of his avocado shake into a nearby trashcan. “Want to show me the door you came through?”

“For real?”

“Why not? I have to admit, Lucy, you’ve intrigued me.”

We walk around to the side of the building. Everything appears the same as the day of the rec center opening, except this time the door is locked.

He glances up at the security camera, then back at the door. “The way the camera is angled, it would be impossible to get through this door without getting caught on tape. Except…” He looks at me. “What

was the time frame on the security footage?”

“I’m not sure. I just know that Travis said that—wait. Are you saying that maybe someone came in this door earlier and was waiting inside the building? Gus told me on the day of the celebration that not everything was a hundred percent operational, including the security. At the time it didn’t mean anything to me, but maybe he was talking about the cameras.”

“It certainly sounds like something that should be checked out.”

“So maybe Derrick snuck in the building earlier. He could have totally waited till Sebastian left. Maybe they argued, and he pushed her.”

“Does he have an alibi for the time of Abby’s death?”

“He claims to have been playing poker in Mexico Beach. And Travis said it checked out.”

“Well, there you go. Sounds like the brother is off the hook.”

As much as I hate to admit it, Jim is right. But I still can’t shake the feeling that Derrick Delgado is hiding something big.

My cell phone pings. It’s Susan Van Dyke’s attorney. He tells me that technically the dog now belongs to Susan’s sister, Deborah, so I make arrangements through him to drop Paco off at Susan’s home this afternoon.

I thank Jim for the smoothie and the conversation and reluctantly head back to The Bistro. It’s time to return Paco to his family.

Chapter Thirteen

Susan Van Dyke’s home is in an upscale neighborhood with a privacy gate. To get inside, I have to pick up a security phone.

“Can I help you?” asks a crusty sounding male voice.

“This is Lucy McGuffin. I spoke to Ms. Van Dyke’s attorney about returning Pa—, I mean Cornelius.”

The gate slowly opens which is my cue to come through. As I guide my car into the circular driveway, the house comes into view. It’s a two-story red brick mansion that seems out of place with the more coastal Mediterranean architecture of the other homes on the street.

Paco and I get out of the car and are greeted by an older gentleman wearing a black tie and jacket. It’s like he’s just stepped off the set of Downton Abbey.

“I’m Anthony,” he says, “Ms. Susan’s former butler.”

Paco barks and wags his tail. Anthony bends down and pats him on the head affectionately. “Cornelius. It’s so good to see you, sir. And in such good health! I must say, this is a huge relief.”

Sir? I try not to giggle. “So this is… I mean, this was Susan Van Dyke’s dog?”

“Oh, yes, this is definitely our Cornelius. I’d recognize him anywhere.”

Even though I’m glad that Paco is being reunited with his family, a part of me is sad too. Which is utterly selfish because it’s not like I could adopt him myself.