Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (Sunset Cove #3)(8)
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You could hire a nanny.”
“A nanny.” The idea took hold. “I’d thought to have my aunt Dixie help out, but she’s getting up there in years, and two girls this young would wear her out fast. But she’s lived there for ages, and she’s the postmistress. She’ll know everyone and then some. I’m sure she’ll have a good recommendation for me. I’ll only need someone for six weeks.”
“Glad I could offer something helpful. It feels wrong to be sitting down the hall from Heath’s office and know that he’s never coming back. And that there’s not a thing I can do to change it.” Rod’s voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “I want to hang that murderer from the highest tower.”
“Me too. And I’ll find out who did this. Nothing is going to get in my way. The trail is getting cold, and I want to light a fire under the sheriff and insist he consider some other theories.”
“Let me know if there’s anything you need, anything at all. I’ll pay for the private investigator. The business can afford it, and Heath would have done the same for me.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can afford it too.”
“You have to let me help.” Rod’s voice broke again. “Heath was the best friend I ever had. It’s the least I can do.”
“All right. Thanks, Rod. I’ll contact the guy and I’ll be in touch.” Drake ended the call and immediately dialed the texted number.
“Sloan Investigations.” The man sounded young.
“This is Drake Newham. Rod Sisson recommended I contact you.”
“Oh yes, Rod’s a good friend. We went to college together.”
The man’s self-satisfied tone struck Drake as odd. Did the guy think he automatically had the job because of his connection to Rod? “Can you tell me about your experience in investigation?”
“Um, well, I’m really just getting started. I worked as a dispatcher for the police for a while, but I got tired of the hours.” He named a small town in South Carolina.
Drake frowned and watched the girls as they licked their ice cream cones. “I really need someone with a lot of experience. This could be dangerous. We could be going up against a major criminal.”
“I’m sure I can handle it.” Sloan’s voice took on a defensive tone. “This could be a big break for me.”
“I’ll have to think about it.” Drake ended the call and motioned for the girls. Time to track down a killer. He didn’t need the help of a self-serving rookie. This was too important.
*
It was only the third time he’d used the housekeeping key card, stolen over two years ago from his mother when she worked here. He wiped sweaty palms on his jeans and stared at the door. He’d seen her walking on the beach, and when he found she was staying at the hotel, he’d been unable to resist the temptation. He had plenty of time too. This time of year the seedy hotel had low occupancy, and the staff was down to bare bones for another week.
He glanced down the hall and saw no one. His hands were steady as he quickly unlocked the door and turned the handle. Holding his breath, he eased open the door, then smiled. She hadn’t flipped the security lock. Hanging on to the door, he let it slide back into place with only a slight click.
The sound of a shower running beckoned him across the plush carpet and past the unmade bed. A bracelet lay curled on the bedside table, and he took it before following the sound of running water.
Her jeans and T-shirt were in a puddle on the floor outside the open bathroom door, and he stood with his feet on either side of them to peer through it. His reflection in the steamy mirror was fuzzy. He brought up his cell phone and snapped off four quick pictures of her in the shower. Her head was back and her eyes were closed as she rinsed her blonde hair. The fogged glass door irritated him with the way it obscured his view.
Back at his house, he’d be able to enhance the pictures and enjoy them in private. He eased a few inches more into the room, and his sneaker squeaked on the tile floor. She gasped and opened her eyes. He leaped back and ran as she let out a shriek.
His chest tightened as he raced for the door. She was screaming like his grandmother’s teakettle as he let himself out and sprinted down the hall for the elevator. She couldn’t have seen his face—not with the steamed-up glass—could she?
As the elevator door shut behind him, he realized he was grinning from ear to ear. The rush of voyeurism always left him higher than a line of cocaine. And it was just as addicting. No matter how many times he swore he wouldn’t do it again, he couldn’t help himself.
He thrust the key card back into his pocket until next time. Next time maybe he’d get up the nerve to go back to his favorite girl’s. He loved everything about her—her courage and her astounding beauty. She belonged with him.
FIVE
Drake had never been to Downeast Maine, and the bickering between his nieces in the back of his Land Rover was enough to sap every bit of his enjoyment of the rocky coastline to his right.
He passed a blueberry field and turned away from the water to take a better look. He’d always heard of the Maine blueberries, but he hadn’t expected the leaves to look red. He needed to get a picture.
At least he’d made it out of Boston without a tail. He’d had the distinct feeling someone had been watching him for days, and he’d been careful as they packed up and left town. Now wasn’t the best time to leave someone else in charge of Newham Drones, but it couldn’t be helped. He had a great plant manager in place and good employees.