Sweetheart Killer: Book 14 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series Read online

  on the shore. Stewart got out of his kayak first as well, tipping the boat so far sideways that Blanche

  plopped unceremoniously into the water. She landed on her side and struggled to her feet, gasping

  at the surprise, her eyes darting around to look for danger in the water. Sean helped her up and led

  her to shore, while her husband headed for the bushes, his hands on his zipper.

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  Missy gazed at her handsome husband across the table at the French seafood restaurant aboard the ship, stars in her eyes.

  “Having a good time?” Chas asked, taking her hand after he saw the look on her face.

  “Mmmm…the best,” she breathed.

  “Interesting excursion that we had today,” he chuckled.

  “Sean was so knowledgeable. I loved that he told us about the edible native plants and then let us sample them. The sea parsley was delicious, and those sea grapes were just full of flavor. It was amazing just to experience nature with someone who knew so much about all of the local flora and fauna,” Missy gushed.

  “I’m glad that Blanche didn’t see the baby sharks that he pointed out to us,” Chas stroked the back of his wife’s hand.

  “Oh, I know. I think she would’ve wanted to be airlifted off of the island,” Missy grinned. “They were so beautiful though, just gliding through the water.”

  “Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he drew her hand to his lips.

  After a sumptuous dinner, which left them both feeling a bit stuffed, they headed to the ship’s Blues Lounge and enjoyed an evening of live music. It was well after eleven o’clock by the time they swayed carefully back to their room, the high waves rocking the boat a bit. When they entered their stateroom, they were delighted to see that Putu had come by for turndown service, and had left a daily schedule, a card to order room service for breakfast if they wanted, and a butterfly made out of towels, laid out on the bed.

  “Oh my goodness, that’s adorable,” Missy exclaimed, and asked Chas to take a picture of it.

  They had slipped into comfortable lounge wear, ordered some hot tea from room service, and were flipping through the TV channels on their big-screen flat-panel TV when they were both suddenly startled to hear a loud thump from the next room. Exchanging an alarmed look, Chas muted the comedy show that happened to be on, and they listened carefully to see if they heard anything else, but there were no further sounds until Putu came and knocked at the door, bringing their tea and a plate of tiny cupcakes with fluffy pink frosting.

  “Putu,” Missy began in a low voice. “We heard a loud thump from next door,” she pointed. “Is there any way that you might be able to check and see if our neighbors are okay?”

  The young man’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “It’s late, Madame. Can’t disturb guests unless they call. It was probably a suitcase tipping over in the closet. The waves make that happen sometimes.”

  “I see. Well, okay then. Thank you for the tea.”

  “My pleasure, Madame. Is there anything else that I can get for you?” the attendant asked, moving toward the door.

  “No thank you, that’ll be all.”

  “Good evening, Madame, and Sir,” he nodded, gave a small bow and disappeared into the silent hallway.

  Missy sipped her tea, lost in thought.

  “What’s the verdict?” Chas’s question broke into her thoughts.

  “Hmm…?” she blinked at him, sleepy and pensive.

  “The tiny cupcakes…do you like them? I would think they would be right up your alley.”

  “Oh! Yes, they’re perfect. I’m going to start doing minis when we get home. They’re wonderfully bite-sized with the right ratio of frosting to cake,” she smiled, still preoccupied.

  “Alright, out with it,” he said gently, stroking her cheek.

  “What?” she put her tea cup down.

  “What’s bothering you?”

  Missy sighed. “I just…I can’t help but wonder what that sound was. Normally I wouldn’t think anything of it but, is it me, or does Stewart seem just a bit…” she searched for the right word.

  “Dominant?” Chas suggested.

  “Yeah, that works,” Missy nodded sadly.

  “They seem to get along well, though,” he commented.

  “Yeah, I’m probably just being overly sensitive,” she shrugged.

  “Done with your tea?” Chas reached for her cup.

  “Yes, thank you,” Missy smiled as he took the snack tray and placed it on the small dining table.

  “Ready for sleep, my love?” he pulled the covers back.

  “Definitely,” she replied, letting the waves rock her gently to sleep.

  **

  Missy wore a brightly-colored tropical sundress and coral jewelry as she and Chas stood in line to leave the ship.

  “It’s been a magical week,” she sighed, leaning her head against Chas’s shoulder.

  “It went by too fast,” her husband agreed, kissing the top of her head.

  They disembarked and found themselves standing in line for Customs right behind Stewart and Blanche.

  “Hey, you two,” Missy greeted them. “Are y’all going straight back home?”

  “Yes, indeed, there’s work to be done,” Stewart sounded excited at the prospect.

  “Oh my goodness,” Missy noticed a white bandage wrapped around Blanche’s hand. “What happened?”

  “I stood too close to the grill at one of the buffet stations, and accidentally touched the surface,” Blanche blushed. “I’m so clumsy sometimes.”

  “Second degree burns,” Stewart shook his head. “And she’s right handed, so she’s gonna be outta commission for a while.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Missy frowned, then dug in her purse. “Here’s my card. If there’s anything that I can do, please let me know. Or, if you just feel like you need a cupcake,” she smiled.

  “Thank you, dear,” Blanche accepted it with her left hand and tucked it into her purse.

  The line moved, and it was time for them to go to the Customs desk.

  “It was certainly wonderful meeting you two,” Blanche gave Missy and Chas a hug.

  “Likewise. Don’t be a stranger,” Missy replied, hugging the thin woman back.

  Stewart, who had charged ahead to the desk, raised a hand and waved.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  Spencer Bengal didn’t take much time off. He preferred to be busy, always working on something

  or trying to help someone. In addition to keeping Missy and Chas safe from harm, he’d helped

  Joyce Rutledge, Echo’s Operations Manager, at the bookstore and candle shop while Echo was in

  the hospital, and even now he took shifts as she gradually increased her time at work. He ran

  errands and helped with guests at the Inn, did all of the maintenance work that he could, and ran

  Cupcakes in Paradise while Missy was away. He was most likely the only Oxford-educated errand

  boy on the planet, which suited him just fine. But today…today, he was on the beach. Missy and

  Chas were due back from their cruise later, and Chas would want an answer to the question that

  he had posed to the young Marine before they’d left.

  The shirtless young man stretched out on a lounger at the Inn’s private stretch of sugar-sand beach,

  blissfully unaware of the appreciative stares that his tanned, muscular form drew from casual beach

  walkers. His hair had begun to grow back, although it wasn’t nearly as long as he liked it. He’d

  had to cut it to blend in when he’d gone on a fact-finding mission that would remove him from the

  list of potential persons of interest in a local homicide a couple of months ago. He wore sunglasses

  and board shorts, and basked in the sun while considering his options.

  Chas Beckett was contemplating taking a bold step forward in his
life, and he’d asked Spencer to

  be a part of it.

  **

  Missy stared thoughtfully at her husband’s profile as they made the two and a half hour drive through the Everglades to get home.

  “While we were on vacation, you were open and carefree and more like yourself. Now that we’re back, you’ve closed off and gone quiet again,” she observed.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I have a lot on my mind,” he kept his eyes on the road, but reached over to squeeze her hand.

  “You know, when a man says that to a woman, and then doesn’t elaborate, it can make her mind go in all sorts of unpleasant directions,” she gave him a pointed look, which he caught briefly. “I’m your wife. If you’re going through something, I’m the one that you’re supposed to be talking to. Work with me here,” she encouraged, reaching up to massage the muscles at the base of his neck and finding them strung taut.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but I didn’t want to ruin our time together,” he began.

  “Oh my, that sounds serious,” her hand dropped and her heartrate sped up.

  “Yes and no.”

  “Okay, Chas. I need more information than that,” she demanded gently.

  “Chalmers asked me to take a more active role in the family business, as you know, and we considered moving to New York…”

  “Is that what you want to do?” Missy’s heart was in her throat at the thought of leaving Calgon and her friends.

  “Hold on, let me finish,” Chas gave her a reassuring smile. “And stop looking at me like I just tracked mud on your kitchen floor.”

  “I talked with Chalmers, and we figured out that I’d only need to be in New York a couple of times a month, for two or three days at a time. So, we can stay in Calgon like we planned.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” Missy blew out a breath. “So what are you thinking about then, if that’s all pretty much settled?”

  “I’m thinking of leaving the police department,” was the quiet reply.

  “And retire?” Missy couldn’t conceal her surprise.

  “No. I’d like to open a private investigation firm, and I’ve asked Spencer to be my partner in it, if you and I decide that it’s the right way to go,” he broke the news that had been churning within him for weeks.

  “Oh, my,” Missy was rendered speechless.

  “I’ve looked into it, and I’d be able to take cases in every state, but I wouldn’t be obligated to take any that I didn’t want to, and I’d still help out the local PD whenever they needed me,” he explained, his enthusiasm for the idea evident.

  “But, don’t you have to have some sort of license to do that kind of thing?”

  “Yes, of course. I got licensed a couple of months ago, just in case, and I told Spencer that I’d pay for his licensing as well, if he decided to join me.”

  “What does he have to say about all of this?”

  “He said he’d think about it while we were gone and have an answer for me when we got back. He knew I’d be talking with you about it. If you’re on board, I’m ready to start a new chapter in my life,” Chas glanced away from the road to smile at the most beautiful woman, inside and out, that he’d ever known.

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “No more dangerous than police work. Probably much less so, actually.”

  “Then let’s do this!” she grinned.

  “Thank you, sweetie, I couldn’t do it without you in my corner.”

  Missy giggled. “Yeah, you could, but I’ll take the sweet words anyway. Now, next time, young man, you tell me what you’re thinking before it starts bothering you,” she instructed, poking at his bicep playfully.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  “So that’s it, huh?” the Calgon Chief of Police looked at Chas across the desk.

  “I’m not bailing out on you. I’ll make myself available to show the new guy the ropes, and I’ll lend a hand in investigations whenever you run into something that needs more manpower, just say the word, and I’ll be there,” the detective assured him.

  “I hate to lose you, Beckett. Your department has never had a better track record than it has in the short time that you’ve been here, but I understand that you have to adapt to fit your circumstances,” the chief nodded soberly.

  “For what it’s worth, Calgon PD has been the easiest law enforcement team to work with in my entire career.”

  “It’s because we’re family around here. We’ve got each other’s backs. Make no mistake, Beckett, you’re still in the family,” he stood and held out his hand.

  “That’s good to know, Chief, and thank you,” Chas shook his hand.

  “You’ll stay until we find a replacement?”

  “As long as it doesn’t take too long,” the detective grinned.

  A knock on the door behind him caused Chas to turn around.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Chief, but we need Beckett. We’ve got a body, local businessman,” a uniformed officer popped his head into the office.

  “Go do your thing while we’ve still gotcha,” the chief shooed Chas from his office.

  “I’m on it,” was the grim reply as the detective dashed out into the hall.

  **

  The house in its gated neighborhood was large and expensive without being pretentious. It was

  furnished in neutrals with touches of ocean blue and sea green and was immaculate. Chas did a

  walk-through, looking for anything out of place, before exiting the French doors which led to the

  pool area, where the body was found, curled up in a ball on a lounger. When the detective

  approached the body and got close enough to see its face, his mouth dropped open momentarily in

  shock.

  “You know him?” a sharp-eyed officer asked, noting Chas’s reaction.

  “Slightly. He and his wife were on the same cruise that my wife and I were on last week.”

  “Is there any conflict of interest with you investigating?”

  The detective shook his head. “Not at all. I don’t even know their last name. They had the cabin

  next door to us and went on one of the same excursions that we did, that’s all.”

  “Good enough,” the cop nodded.

  “Where’s the wife?”

  “We’re trying to track her down now. She was on a flight to Colorado a few days ago, so we’re

  trying to find a cell number to contact her. This is gonna put a serious damper on her vacation,”

  the officer pursed his lips.

  “Indeed,” Chas nodded. “Poor Blanche.”

  **

  Fiona McCamish hung up the phone, grabbed a lab coat and headed for her boss’s office. Pale,

  introverted, bespectacled, Timothy Eckels, Calgon County Coroner and owner of Memorial

  Mortuary, was most likely sitting at his desk with his nose buried in some weird article which

  detailed the latest embalming and body prep techniques, or how to determine time of death in

  water-related homicides, or something equally scintillating. Tim was an odd duck, and his spunky

  assistant loved that about him.

  Fiona had made a nuisance of herself until he had given her a job, only consenting to hire her after

  she agreed to a head-to-toe makeover by Missy and Echo - Echo was Tim’s next door neighbor at

  the time. His rationale was that he didn’t want the brash young woman to scare away potential

  clients for the Mortuary with her multi-colored hair, black makeup and multiple piercings. The

  results had been spectacular, and Tim couldn’t ask for a better assistant, even if she seemed to go

  out of her way to try to elicit reactions from him.

  “Hey, Timmy, we got a stiff,” she waved a yellow sticky note in the air.

  As predicted, Eckels was knee deep in an article comparing the dissolution rates of skin in caustic

 
; substances.

  “Don’t call me that,” was the automatic, mumbled reply. He didn’t bother looking up.

  “They’re thinking that there might be foul play involved,” she raised an eyebrow, knowing that

  would inspire a spark of interest in her deliberately taciturn boss.

  “Oh?” he looked up, blinking at her through the thick lenses of his crooked horn-rimmed glasses.

  “And it’s in a gated community,” she teased even further.

  “Did you get my…”

  “Your bag is in the car.”

  “Did you…”

  “Yes, the doors are locked and the alarm is set, so we can go straight to the garage.”

  “But I’ll need my…”

  She held out his lab coat.

  “Then stop dawdling, we have work to do,” he muttered, taking his lab coat and slipping into it on

  the way to the elevator.

  **

  “Anything unusual found in the house?”

  “Nope, the only thing we found was when one of the guys bumped the open laptop, there was an

  email in progress. Apparently, the deceased was emailing the cruise line in regard to some poor

  service he received on his vacation,” the cop shrugged.

  “Show me,” the detective directed.

  The forensics techs hadn’t gotten to the study yet, so the laptop was still open on the desk. The

  uniformed officer used a gloved finger to lightly touch the silver square below the keyboard to

  bring the screen to life.

  To whom it may concern;

  The service on your ship was perhaps the worst I’ve ever encountered, and the cabin attendant,

  Putu was defiant and decidedly not helpful in the least. When asked a simple question, he took it

  upon himself to…

  And the message ended there.

  “Hmm…” Chas frowned.

  “What? You think there could be something to this?”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” the detective shook his head. “Anything else?”