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

Travis clears his throat. “About those questions, Mr. Delgado?”

“I ain’t got nothing to hide, so ask away. But make it quick. I got a pot pie in the microwave.”

“Miss McGuffin says she saw a surveillance tape that shows you jumping over a fence at Susan Van Dyke’s house and stealing her dog. Do you know anything about that?”

Derrick’s face registers shock for a second before he masks it with a sneer. “That’s nuts. I don’t know any Susan Van Dyke. And what the hell would I want with her dog?”

“Abby had Cornelius with her when she died. You dognapped him for her, didn’t you?” I demand.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, lady. Unless you’re going to arrest me for something, then you bozos better get off my property.”

Travis nods sternly. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Delgado.”

“Cooperation?” I turn to Travis. “That’s it? You’re aren’t going to take him down to the police station? What kind of cop are you?”

A muscle on the side of Travis’s jaw twitches. “Lucy, I told you before, leave this to the professionals.”

Derrick grins like he knows he’s got the upper hand. “Yeah, listen to the nice cop, Lucy.”

The way he says my name gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Will takes me by the elbow. “Let’s go,” he says quietly. “We’re not going to get anywhere by antagonizing him.”

The last thing I want to do is leave. Not when I know that Derrick is guilty of taking Paco and who knows what else. But I don’t have any choice.

I start to follow Will down the steps, then I remember that I’m still holding onto the mail flag. I hand Derrick the rusty red flag. “By the way, this fell off your mailbox.”

He looks at it a second, then tosses it into his yard. “I should sue you for the destruction of personal property, but I’m feelin’ generous, so I’ll just tell you to go on and get.” He slams the door in our faces with a loud whack. A few seconds later the porch light goes out.

“Guess he wants to save on h

is electric bill,” Will mutters.

“I really wish you’d let me ask the questions here,” Travis says to me. “You forget this dognapping didn’t happen in Whispering Bay. If Deborah Van Dyke doesn’t want to press charges or get the Destin police involved, then there’s not much I can do about it. I can’t haul him down to the police station unless I have some evidence that he committed a crime in Whispering Bay. Got it?”

“So is breaking and entering into a public building considered a crime?”

“I’m not going to arrest Sebastian for that.”

“Not yet anyway. What about Derrick? What if he broke into the building? What if he…what if he stole a key to the building and left it unlocked for some nefarious purpose?”

Travis looks at me like I’ve grown another head. “Where do you get this stuff?”

“I don’t know, but if it did go down that way, then he was definitely up to no good, and it’s your responsibility as a police officer to get to the bottom of it.”

“Okay, yeah. If that’s the case, then, yeah, I’ll arrest him. But good luck getting your proof. ” He catches up to Will, who’s already halfway to the car.

I hang back, slowly walking through the weedy yard, aiming the flashlight on the ground, until—Bingo!

I really can’t believe our good luck.

I gingerly pick up the mailbox flag.

Will turns around and aims his light at me. “Lucy? What are you doing?” He winces when he sees the flag in my hand. “Unless your tetanus shot is up to date, I’d drop that.”

“Yeah, I’d—” Travis stops when he sees the expression on my face. His frown is replaced with a grudging look of admiration.

“Oh,” says Will, catching on as well.