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

“I forgot to tell you that part. When Derrick realized I didn’t work for the law firm, he called the police. But only because he thought I was a scam artist, which goes to prove how unstable he is. I mean, really? Me? A scam artist?”

“I don’t like this, Lucy.”

“Does that mean you’re out? Because I’m going to confront him with or without you.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“So sue me.”

He shakes his head as if he can’t believe he’s going to help me, then goes to the hall closet to pull out a jacket. “I’m driving.”

“Awesome! Oh…and Will, just so you know, Derrick has a shotgun.”

Me and my big mouth. If I hadn’t told Will about Derrick’s shotgun, he wouldn’t have involved Travis.

“You were right to call me,” Travis says to Will as we all pile into Will’s car. He glares at me. “I thought you were going to update me on the dog?”

“I was. Eventually.”

Travis is off duty, but the second he heard about my plans to confront Derrick he practically ran all the way to Will’s house to join us. “For the record, I’m against this.”

“Then go home,” I say in a fake sweet voice.

“Believe me, I would if I didn’t think you were going to hightail it over there no matter what Will or I say.”

Will chuckles. “It’s amazing how well you’ve come to know her in so little time.”

“Sweet. I have two knights in shining armor.” Despite my sarcasm, the truth is I’m glad that both Will and Travis are coming with me. I have no idea what Derrick Delgado is capable of, and I really don’t want to find out on my own. Plus, you know, he does have that squirrel in his arsenal.

It’s past eight p.m. by the time we get to Derrick’s, and it’s full-on dark. Since he lives on the edge of town on a dirt road, there aren’t any street lights. Weeds cover the narrow path leading to the trailer. Luckily, Will keeps a couple of flashlights in the trunk of his car.

“Are you sure this is the address?” Will asks, aiming his light on the dented steel mailbox. The peel-on street numbers are faded from the sun making them difficult to read. I’m confident this is it, but I want to make sure, so I move the red side flag out of the way to get a better look at the numbers. It’s so rusty and old that it falls off in my hands.

“This is the place, all right,” I confirm.

“I can’t believe you came out here all alone,” Will says like a disapproving older brother. “Sebastian would have a cow if he knew you were running around confronting strange men with guns.”

“How was I to know he’d pull a gun on me? Besides, all’s well that ends well, right?”

Before Will can answer, the porch light snaps on.

“Who’s out there?” asks a gruff male voice.

“Mr. Delgado, it’s Officer Travis Fontaine from the Whispering Bay police department. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”

The front door opens, and Derrick steps out. He’s holding the infamous shotgun, but this time it’s not aimed at anyone’s head.

“Whoa.” Travis points to the gun. “No need for that, sir.”

Derrick’s eyes go wide as he spots me. “That’s her! That’s the gal who tried to rob me.”

“Rob you?” I sputter. “I admit, I might have misrepresented myself the other day, but believe me there is absolutely nothing you have that I’d want to rob you of.”

He scowls at Will. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Lucy’s.”

“So you’re her accomplice.”