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

Did Derrick just admit to seeing Abby’s dead body?

“You mean CPR?” Victor asks.

“Yeah, sure, that too. Look, I know I should have called the police, but what good would that have done? I’m sorry, Abby, I really am.”

I’m stunned, but I manage to squeak out a response. “It’s all right.”

“Does that mean I’m still in your will?”

Just as I’m about to respond, the door to the room crashes open. The overhead lights flood the room, causing me to blink.

“What’s going on in here?” We all look up to see Travis standing in the doorway. He slowly takes in the scene.

“Officer Fontaine, is the building secure?” asks a female voice over his radio. “Do you need backup?”

Everyone starts talking at once.

Travis puts a hand up in the air, demanding silence.

He unclips the radio from his belt. “The building is secure. No backup needed. It was just a bunch of squirrels creating trouble.”

Squirrels? I automatically shudder. Why did he have to bring them into the picture?

He and the dispatcher exchange a few more words, then he clips his radio back onto his belt. “I’d ask who’s in charge here, but I have a pretty good idea.” He turns and looks directly at me.

I swallow hard. “I can explain everything.”

Phoebe looks around the now brightly lit room like she’s just lost her best friend. “Abby, are you gone? Abby, please come back.”

“Abby was never here,” Aurelia says tightly. She stands and points a finger at me. “This one. She was faking it.” The accusation in her voice makes me wince.

“Lucy!” Victor says, clearly shocked. “Is it true? Were you faking being Abby?”

Everyone turns to look at me, except Gloria, who can’t very well throw stones here, can she? And Will, who knew my plan from the beginning. Everyone else looks at me with varying degrees of suspicion and disbelief, except for Brittany.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Lucy would never lie to us like that. She’s the most honest person I know. Right, Lucy?”

“Well…um—”

“You really are despicable,” Aurelia sneers. “First your carelessness almost got poor Cornelius killed, and now you mock the very sanctity of the séance! What kind of person are you?”

Anthony wraps a protective arm around his wife’s shoulder. “I don’t know how we could have been so wrong about her.”

“Okay, okay, I admit, that was me pretending to be Abby, but I did it because it was the only way to get to the truth. I really thought…that is, I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t any kind of foul play behind Abby’s death. I did this for her.” Sort of.

Brittany looks as if I’ve just told her there’s no Santa Claus.

“You mean you thought I killed Abby?” Phoebe looks hurt, and that’s worse than any shock or disbelief.

“Not killed exactly.” Even though it’s chilly, sweat trickles down my back.

“I knew all along it wasn’t Abby we was talkin’ to,” Derrick says. “She never fooled me one bit.”

“Not true,” I say. “Otherwise you would have never told everyone how you found your sister dead already.”

This gets Travis’s attention. “People,” he says, “Listen up. I don’t know what you’re all doing here, and frankly, I don’t want to find out. But you’re all guilty of trespassing. So if you don’t want to spend the night in jail, then I suggest we break up this little campfire sing-along.”

“Oh!” Brittany says, “Officer Fontaine, we weren’t doing anything wrong. I promise. I have every right to be here. See?” She reaches into a secret pocket in her snug yoga pants and produces a key. “I teach a Pilates class here on Tuesday and Thursday nights.”