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

It’s as if he doesn’t want to listen to reason. Or maybe, I’m the one who doesn’t want to listen. Maybe Abby’s death was just like Travis said—completely natural with no sign of foul play.

Only my gut tells me that something sinister happened in that rec center. I’ll never rest until I know what Abby and my brother were doing there in the middle of the night, and there’s only one person who can tell me that. Since it’s Wednesday afternoon, I know exactly where to find him. St. Perpetua’s Catholic Church holds weekly reconciliations aka confessions every Wednesday from four to six p.m. There’s no way Sebastian can avoid me there.

I hastily drop Paco off at The Bistro then head over to see my brother. The church is quiet. Only a handful of parishioners wait in line to partake of my least favorite of all the sacraments. Sebastian was right when he accused me of never going to confession.

I hang around till the last person comes out of the confessional. I open the door and kneel inside the cubicle. The partition opens. It’s so dark I can barely make out Sebastian’s silhouette. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says quietly.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, but right now we need to talk about you and Abby Delgado.”

“Lucy?” He swings back the door, flooding the tiny area with light. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you told me to leave this to the police, but something happened to Abby Delgado, and I can’t let it go. I keep thinking about the last time I saw her, and…you were right. She didn’t have any real friends. Even her own brother didn’t like her. I feel like I owe it to her to find out the truth.”

He silently walks to the front of the church, where he sits in the first pew. I follow and sit next to him.

“Does this have anything to do with…you know, your ability to tell when someone’s lying?”

“Sort of. But not really. I mean, yeah, there’s that, but I have this niggling sense that her death wasn’t just the case of a simple heart attack. There are too many weird things surrounding it all.”

“I think you’re right,” he says softly.

I sigh in relief. Finally! “So, are you going to tell me everything you know?”

“It’s not much, but yeah, I’ll tell you what I can.” He looks up at the large wooden crucifix looming over the altar, then gazes back at me. “A few days before she died, Abby came to me with some concerns about a parishioner here at the church.”

“Let me guess? Phoebe Van Cleave?”

He nods.

“I didn’t know Phoebe was Catholic.”

“Lapsed, but still a registered parishioner.”

“Okay. So Phoebe was who Abby wanted you to do the exorcism on, right?”

The corner of his mouth twitches up in a very un-Sebastian like way. “No. Phoebe wasn’t her intended…victim.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

I drive to the library, and it’s perfect timing because Will is locking up for the day. “I was wondering when

you were going to show up,” he says.

“Does that mean you had a chance to talk to Brittany about the keys to the rec center?”

“She said she’d think about it.”

“Really?” I have to admit, I’m surprised. I figured Brittany would have the vapors at the idea of using her key in some illicit fashion. “I guess that’s better than a flat-out no.”

Will adjusts his backpack over his shoulder. “I rode my bike here. Want to meet me back at my house, and we can make dinner?” When I hesitate, he turns to study my face. “What?”

“What do you mean what?”

“You look like you just won the lottery.”

“I have some new intel on the case.”

Will moans. “You’re going to be the death of me, Lucy. Between this séance and running around confronting strange men with shotguns—”