Ricky was the first person to return my call. As I’d told Connor I planned to do, I’d made myself an impromptu dinner of a bowl of soup and a leftover sandwich before curling up on the bed with Charles on one side of me, Fluffy on the other, and my iPad on my lap, watching a movie on Netflix.
“Mom and I will be leaving on Monday,” Ricky said. “The police are going to release Dad’s body, and the arrangements have been made to take him home. I’d like to see you before I go.”
I hesitated. “I don’t think I’ll have the time.”
“What about now? Tonight. I know you’re home. You’re the only person I know who still has a landline, so I know you’re in the lighthouse.”
I hadn’t thought Ricky had lured me out of the lighthouse the other night. I couldn’t believe he’d want to frighten me. Maybe I was naïve, but he still seemed to have feelings for me. His comment confirmed my instinct: if it had been him, he would have called me on the landline.
Rather than answering his question about coming over, I explained. “The cell reception’s poor to nonexistent here, so we still need a physical connection.”
“That’s what I thought. It’s not late, and you’re off work tomorrow. How about I come and get you and we can go into town? Find a nice lounge somewhere, have a couple of drinks, listen to some music, talk about the good old days. About us in the good old days. I can be there in fifteen minutes. Please say yes, Lucy. We did have some good days, didn’t we?”
Despite my assurances to myself about Ricky, my danger antenna pricked up. “Why would you come all this way to get me?”
“So I can ply you with liquor, of course. For old times’ sake, Lucy?” His voice was playful, trying to make light of the issues—no big deal—but I could hear the seriousness beneath.
I felt guilty about even thinking that Ricky, a man I’d known for so long and been close to once, could possibly have meant me harm. “I’m comfortably settled for a night in.”
“Then I’ll join you. I haven’t seen your apartment yet.”
“Ricky. No. That’s not why I called you. This is important. I have a question, and I need you to answer without asking why I’m asking.”
He chuckled. “Detecting again, Lucy?”
“No. I’m just curious. Your mom said you and Stephen went out for a couple of drinks after dinner last night. Is that right?”
“You don’t want me to ask why you’re asking?”
“Please.”
“Only for you, Lucy, only for you. Yeah, that’s right. To be honest, I’m getting mighty tired of my mother’s company. Her and that Leon. Geez, he’s in for a mighty big disappointment.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s hanging all over her, all the time. They dated a long time ago, before she met my dad, and he seems to want to pick up where they left off. He’s trying to impress her by being buddies with me. As if.”
“Back to what I asked you. You were with Stephen for how long?”
“Not long. We had one drink, and he moved in on a table of women. I wasn’t interested, so I left him to it. I walked back to the hotel; it wasn’t far. I probably shouldn’t have left him with the rental car, not if he was going to keep on drinking, but he gave me a wink—just between us guys, you know.”
“Yeah,” I said dryly. “I know. What time was this?”
“Ten, ten thirty or so? Not much later than that. I can’t persuade you to let me in?”
“No, you cannot. And … good night, Ricky.”
As I hung up the phone, I might have heard him say, “Good night, my love.”
I leaned back with a sigh. I tried my dad again, and he answered this time.
“Sorry I didn’t return your call, honey. It’s a Saturday night, but I’ve been in meetings all day trying to sort out Rich’s affairs, and I can tell you, it’s not going to be easy. The guy’s practice was a mess, giant gaps in his records, unexplained expenditures, dodgy income. Not to mention that the police are showing a lot of interest. I should never have allowed things to get this far. Have you spoken to Ricky today?”
“Ricky? Yes. I was just on the phone with him. He and Evangeline are bringing Rich home on Monday.”
“Monday’s too late. I need Ricky here. Now. He needs to start explaining this mess. Sorry, honey. I’m sure you didn’t call to hear about the firm’s problems. What’s up?”
“Actually, I did call to talk to you about something to do with the firm. Stephen Livingstone. Can you—”
Dad cut me off. “He’s another one who needs to be here explaining himself, not gallivanting around the beaches of the Outer Banks.”
“Gallivanting? Didn’t you send him here to act as Evangeline’s attorney in case she needs one?”
“Stephen? No. Can’t stand the little—uh, guy. He’s Rich’s lapdog, not mine.”
“He told me you sent him here.”
“I wouldn’t send him across the street for a bagel.” I heard Dad take a deep breath. Someone had been coaching him on calming techniques.
“You told Mom you were sending someone down here to represent Evangeline if she needed it, and to keep an eye on the firm’s interests. Not Stephen?”
“When I say I’m sending someone to do something, Lucy, I mean I tell someone to tell someone to send someone. I don’t pick a junior attorney out of the pack.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe I should. I would never have involved Stephen Livingstone. Never mind that, honey. My problems to deal with. Why did you call?”
“Just to say hi.”
“Hi,” he said, and I was pleased to hear the warmth creep into his voice.
“When all this is over, Dad, you and Mom need to come down for a real visit. A vacation. You know, the beach, swimming, seeing the sights, nice dinners out.”
“That,” he said, “sounds like a great idea. Good night, honey.”
“ ’Night Dad.”
I hung up. Charles was sitting up, watching me. “You know what I’m going to do now, Charles?” I said. “I’m going to do what everyone is always telling me to do and hand it over to the police.”
I made another call, and it was answered immediately.
“Sorry to bother you at home on a Saturday evening, Detective.” In the background I could hear the muted sounds of a TV. “I’ve learned two pieces of information about the Rich Lewiston case, and I thought you’d want to know.”
“You’re not bothering me, Lucy. CeeCee’s waving hi. Hold on a sec.” A door slammed and the TV sound died. “What’s up?”
“You met Stephen Livingstone.”
“Yeah. Lawyer guy from Boston; your dad sent him down to act as Mrs. Lewiston’s attorney.”
“I’ve just learned that my dad didn’t send him. My dad doesn’t like him—doesn’t think much of him anyway—but he worked for Rich. If anything, Dad’s angry that he’s here rather than back at the office helping sort out what he calls Rich’s mess.”
“You think that significant because?”
“I’d dismiss it as an eager young associate trying to curry favor with the late boss’s wife and son, but you’ve taught me that when people lie to the police, even about insignificant matters, it’s worth wondering why.”
“Particularly about insignificant matters. I hate to think I’ve taught you anything about policing, Lucy.”
“Nevertheless, you have. That’s one piece of the puzzle. For the second piece: did anyone ask Ricky and Stephen where they were last night when I was being lured out of the lighthouse?”
“Officers questioned the lot of them. I can’t recall precisely what everyone said, which means I didn’t regard it as significant.”
“I bet Ricky and Steven said they went to a bar after having dinner with Evangeline and Leon Lions and your officers left it at that. According to Ricky, they had one drink together and then Ricky went back to the hotel, leaving Stephen at the bar. With the car.”
“What time was this?”
“Around ten thirty, Ricky says. I’m guessing, and it is just a guess, that not long after Ricky left, Stephen abandoned the table of women he was trying to charm, got the car, and went in search of me.” Conveniently for him, I’d been at Jake’s—a place Rich’s killer would know I hang out at. “Maybe he wanted to talk to me, to find out what I know, or maybe his intention all along was to threaten me.” I remembered a car following us out of the parking lot of Jake’s and out of town, then continuing on up the highway when we turned into the lighthouse laneway. Easy enough to turn around, switch off the headlights, follow us and watch us. “He saw Josie drop me off and drive away and me go inside. So he had the bright idea of trying to scare me. Did you locate the owner of the phone that called me?”
“A burner. Probably at the bottom of the Sound by now. This is good, Lucy. Very good. You’ve given me something to work with. I’m going to call your father and ask for more information about this Stephen Livingstone and then pay him a call myself to ask about his activities last night. Sometimes all I need is to make a small chink in the wall of artifice, and the whole case comes tumbling down.”
“I assume you mean the case is built up, but never mind, I get the point. Glad to be of help, Detective.”
“Where are you now, Lucy?”
“I’m home. I have no plans to go anywhere tonight. Safe as lighthouses.”
“Glad to hear it. Thanks again.”
We hung up, and I settled back with my movie while Charles snoozed on one side of me and Fluffy dreamt she was chasing rabbits on the other side. The movie was a murder mystery story with Daniel Craig as a private detective, and I found it unrealistic compared to my own experiences. About halfway through I switched it off, disturbed the animals, and got up to microwave a bag of popcorn. I then settled back on the bed, resettled the dog and cat, turned the movie back on, and made my way through the entire bowl while Daniel continued his investigation.
I was licking my fingers clean when Daniel Craig solved the mystery and the movie ended. “As if that ever happens,” I said to Charles and Fluffy.
Fluffy jumped off the bed and ran for the door. Charles went into the kitchen to check out the contents of the food bowl. I yawned and stretched. I was ready for bed, but dog duties needed to be attended to.
When I last spoke to Evangeline, she’d said nothing about coming for Fluffy and pretty much said she hoped never to see me again. The little creature was growing on me—I was becoming fond of her, and she and Charles had made friends, but I didn’t want to be stuck with Fluffy if Evangeline went home without her. I’d have to call her in the morning and arrange a time for Evangeline to pick up the dog.
I took the pink leash down from the hook by the door. Fluffy’s ears perked up, and she did a joyful little dance at my feet. I fastened the leash to her collar, told Charles we’d be right back, and let us out of the Lighthouse Aerie.
We descended the stairs, round and round and round, in the dim light from the fourth-floor landing above and the library alcove below. The library snoozed peacefully around me, and I imagined I could hear the soft breathing of the characters as they prepared for another busy day of being read on Monday.
When I moved, I’d miss this place at night. The peace. The quiet. Maybe I could convince Connor to come occasionally for a sleepover. Provided no one moved in, that is. Which reminded me that Charlene had quit and Bertie would have news to give us on Monday. Would the new academic librarian be young and single and wanting to live ten miles outside of town and four stories above the marsh? Never mind being pestered by library patrons when trying to sneak in and out of their own home. It wasn’t the life for everyone.
I opened the door to be greeted by a wall of fog so thick the lamp over the door scarcely illuminated the bottom of the steps. I switched on the small flashlight I keep fastened to my key chain. “We won’t go far tonight, Fluffy. It’s easy to get lost in this muck.”
High above us the thousand-watt bulb flashed, but the illumination barely reached the ground.
I’d take Fluffy down to the parking area and then we’d turn around and come back, sticking strictly to the path so as not to get lost in the fog and end up wandering in circles. A long walk could wait until tomorrow. Fluffy didn’t seem to mind. She did what she had to do on a patch of grass and then sniffed her way down the path next to me. We reached the parking lot and were about to turn around when her head shot up, her ears lifted, and she let out a growl, deep in her throat. I glanced at her in alarm. She pulled at the leash, continuing to growl, staring intently into the dark. The hairs along her back were standing on end. I have to admit, the hair on the back of my neck was doing the same. She growled again, the sound low and menacing and unlike anything I’d heard from the tiny lapdog before.
I tugged at the leash. She didn’t come but growled once more. “Come on, Fluffy. Nothing’s out there. Let’s go in, why don’t we?”
“Don’t hurry away on my account,” came a voice from inside the swirling mist.