A Billy Jo McCabe Mystery Box Set

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

She closed up her empty suitcases on the small double bed of the furnished apartment she was renting. Having put away the last of her clothes in the chest of drawers, she took in the cute small bedroom. Its window had an ocean view of what she had already been told was a quiet part of the island.

She stared at her cell phone. The speaker was on, and she listened to the ringing: one, two, three… It went to voicemail again.

“Hello, this is Grant Webber. I’m either in a meeting or on the other line. Leave a message.”

She wanted to scream as she reached for the phone. How many messages had she already left? “Hi, Grant. This is Billy Jo again, leaving yet another message. Listen, I’m at my new place and still waiting for a—” She heard a click.

“Hey, Billy Jo,” Grant said. “So sorry about that. I was called into a meeting, so I only just got all your messages. Sorry to dump this on you before you had a chance to get settled.”

Something about him had always set her on edge, the way he’d text or call her about a situation with a sense of urgency and then leave her hanging, like now.

“Well, you texted me, and it sounded urgent,” she said. “You said there’s a situation.” She stared at the phone, squeezing it in frustration, glad he couldn’t see her as she gestured.

He was talking to someone else in the background now as if she’d been forgotten—just something else about him that frustrated her. She could almost picture his messy tie over a plain dress shirt with brown stripes, his thick mustache, and his belly, which was always hanging over his belt.

“Right, right, here it is…”

She could hear papers rustling in the background and had to fight the urge to yell at her boss to hurry the f**k up.

“Ah, yes. There’s a wilderness camp there on the island for troubled kids, a pilot project. It seems one of the girls there, Shay Williams, thirteen, in and out of juvie, has disappeared. No one has seen her since bed-check last night, etc.…”

Her frustration with him ramped up, because while he was reading a file, she had her boots on the ground, dealing with living, breathing kids who had feelings and cried and bled.

“Anyone call the police to report her missing?” she said.

More papers were rustling in the background, and now he was making that weird noise with his mouth that told her he was reading something—as if he hadn’t just texted her about a problem. “They’ve been notified, the local yokels. It’s a small island. There’s a note here about marks on the girl. One of the camp counselors noticed, but hey, it’s probably nothing. I mean, you know these kids. If they’re not beating on each other, they’re creating some other problem. She’s got a history of running. Anyway, I’ve emailed her file to you. Check into it, but it’s likely nothing. She probably went out for a hike and got lost, or she’s in the wind, running again. We’ll lock her back up. Juvie is likely the best place for her to stay until she ages out of our hands.”

She wondered, as she listened to her boss talk, when he’d become such an asshole. “I’ll check into it. I’ll take a drive out there, and…”

Right, her car still wasn’t there. Maybe, if it was close, she could walk.

“Oh, and don’t forget to check in with the chief of police there,” Grant said. “He’s expecting you.”

She wondered for a moment what took precedence, the missing kid or making nice with the police chief.

“Oh, and, Billy Jo, if she’s running, turn it over to the police and let them handle it. I don’t want a ton of resources wasted on this. We have a budget…”

“Yeah, I know. You can allot only a certain amount for one kid.” She didn’t try to hold back the sarcasm dripping from her tone.

“That’s not what I meant. Of course she matters. I’m just saying, our resources are thin, so we have to pick and choose…”

This time she only nodded, rolling her eyes and keeping her mouth closed, knowing he was expecting her to agree. “Anything else?” she bit out as she strode out of her bedroom, breathing in the fresh pine of the wall paneling. Everything in this garage apartment was new.

She walked to the open front door, spotting Lesley Lancaster, her landlady, walking across the yard, plump, in green polyester slacks, with a basket, heading right for her stairs. She lifted a hand and waved, smiling, happy, with no idea how prickly Billy Jo could be.

“Nope,” Grant said. “But, again, file your report as soon as you check it out so we can file this away. And remember the police chief. Mind your Ps and Qs.” Then he hung up.

She squeezed her phone. Lesley, who owned this property, was now at the bottom of the stairs and climbing up.

“Hello, Billy Jo! Hope you don’t mind me popping in like this, but I wanted to bring you some of my lemon blueberry muffins, a kind of welcome to the island.”

Billy Jo was barefoot as she stood on the porch, waiting for Lesley, who she thought was in her mid-fifties. She held a small basket covered in a red checked napkin, and Billy Jo could smell something freshly baked. Her mouth watered.

“You made me muffins?” Billy Jo said. “Like, just baked in an oven from scratch?”

Lesley walked right into her apartment, and she followed her over to the small island, with its French press, two mugs, and pouch of coffee next to a tea sampler, another gift from her new landlords.

“It’s the least I can do,” Lesley said. “Consider it a housewarming gift. You have no idea how happy Lorne and I are to have a nice lady like you renting this suite from us. I know it’s above the garage, but this is Lorne’s baby. He took the better part of the year to build it. We briefly considered doing an Airbnb, but then, having strangers here every week for a few days sounded like a recipe for something to go very wrong. I told Lorne no, no, and no. So just know, having you here, we’re so pleased. And a social worker, too! Are you getting settled okay?”

Billy Jo took in the thick warm-toned cushions on the log sofa and matching chair, which she was positive Lorne had made from trees from the property. The small dinette, with two wooden chairs, also looked brand new.

Lesley was likely going to be invading her space every day, she realized as she allowed her gaze to linger on the huge front window, which looked out on five acres of trees to the ocean. There was something about all of it… She couldn’t help but feel her stress melt away.

But then, she still needed to deal with this situation at the camp.

“Yeah, just finished unpacking, and thanks again for picking me up at the ferry. That was really nice of you.”

The woman just waved a hand at her. “The least I can do. I could see you were kind of rattled, having old CJ’s shenanigans as your welcome to the island. But I have to tell you, other than that, he’s harmless.”

She needed to find a way over to the camp. “Right, just an old guy who has a lot of guns, loaded guns, which he shoots off at tourists, and blows up his barbecue. What’s there to worry about?”

“Ah, the bullets are blanks, and he shoots them in the air,” Lesley said. “He’s been warned by the chief to knock it off, but every year at this time, when the visitors become crazy and impatient, we usually expect this kind of ruckus. He hopes to scare folks away, but they just keep coming. Oh, and I almost forgot! Since you probably don’t have time to shop, I stocked up on groceries, just some essentials in the fridge and cupboards. And if you need anything, you just call or pop on over to the house anytime.”

She wondered if the woman ever stopped talking. “Well, speaking of… My car is still not here, and I kind of have a work situation I have to handle. I wonder if I could borrow—”

Just then, there was a honk and the sound of a car, and Lesley turned. She could see her gray Corolla through the window.

“Oh, scratch that! There’s my car,” Billy Jo said. And my dad and my cat.

Billy Jo followed Lesley out onto her small deck, spotting the man behind the wheel, Chase McCabe, her father. She shoved her feet into her sandals as Lesley hurried down the steps ahead of her, lifting her hand in a big wave and heading over to the car.

Her dad stepped out. His blond hair was gleaming, as was the smile he gave everyone. He pulled off his shades and tucked them in his light blue shirtfront, and she couldn’t believe he was actually wearing jeans.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, lifting his hand as she made her way to the bottom of the stairs and started walking his way.

“Well, I had no idea your dad was so handsome,” Lesley said, tossing him a flirty look and an over-the-top smile.

“It’s great to meet you, Lesley,” was all her dad said.

“You let me know if you need anything, Billy Jo,” Lesley said, then actually giggled and touched her arm before walking away.

All Billy Jo could do was nod, because this wasn’t the first time she’d seen this similar interest from a woman. She took in her dad’s amused expression and the way he was looking at everything: the huge willow tree out front, the overgrown grass, which was brown and scorched, and the apartment built over the garage. The house Lesley and Lorne lived in was a two-story old-fashioned Victorian, white with green trim, with a welcoming front porch.

“You got here okay, I see,” Chase said. “How is everything so far? Oh, and someone in the car is dying to see you.” He pulled open the back door, and she heard a meow from the black cat kennel.

As she reached for the small cat carrier and lifted it out, her dad shot her an amused look. “So did he meow the entire way out here?”

“No, he gave me a two-hour reprieve while I was waiting for the ferry. I’ll carry up the cat food, and you can show me around.”

She knew this was just her dad’s way of keeping tabs on her. “You know, you didn’t have to drive my car out. I told you before that I’m a big girl who can stand on my own two feet and get myself here…”

“Your car was barely running,” Chase said. “You would’ve broken down in the middle of nowhere if I hadn’t made sure it was serviced. You should know the brakes had barely anything left on them, two of the rotors had to be replaced, and one of the headlights was burnt out.”

She wanted to roll her eyes. Her dad was always shoving his nose into everything she did, as if he still needed to manage the misfit he’d saved so many years before. Sometimes she still felt like that terrified kid who’d been one step from life behind bars.

She could hear her dad behind her on the stairs as she walked inside her apartment, where she set the cat carrier down on the floor and opened it to scoop out her orange and white cat, Harley, who was missing his right front leg. As soon as she held him, he purred.

“Your mom said to remind you to take time off for Thanksgiving. We expect you home, no excuses,” her dad said as he took in her place and the surrounding property. She didn’t have a clue what he was thinking. With him, it could’ve been anything. “You can bring the cat too if you want. Don’t forget to call your mom and let her know you’re settled. You talk to your boss here yet?”

He was still looking around, but his blue eyes settled on her when she didn’t answer right away. There was just something about her dad getting in her business; she wanted to remind him that she had two feet and could stand on them all by herself, and she knew he would hear her out, but she suspected her dad understood parts of her that she didn’t share with anyone else.

“Yes,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I just got off the phone with him, and I have a situation I have to check into. As I’ve been reminded twice, the police chief is apparently waiting to meet me. But I know I promised you we’d go for lunch when you got here, and I know how you are and how you want to check out this island and everyone you can before you have to leave. I’m sure you’ve already figured out some way to manage my life here…”

The way her dad looked at her, she knew he wasn’t impressed.

“I’m not managing your life, Billy Jo,” he said.

She put Harley down and opened the cupboard to pull out a bowl, which she filled with water. Her dad had settled a big bag of cat food by the door, and he must have known what she was looking for, as he lifted it and put it on the table for her.

“Dad, you’ve been managing everything about my life since you met me. Wasn’t it you who insisted I take sociology and prelaw in school? I’m positive you would’ve set up an office so I could work for you, and, for that matter, I’d still be living with you and Mom. You’d be deciding everything about my life, organizing me, telling me what to do…”

“Okay, stop, already,” he said. “You know I did that only because I love you, and you really didn’t have any viable options in mind for what you wanted to do. Yet here you are, working as an underpaid social worker…”

“You mean a much-needed social worker,” she said, cutting him off. She wasn’t about to be talked out of that choice, but with Chase McCabe, she found it difficult to stand her ground. “It’s what I wanted. I didn’t want to be a lawyer. That’s you, and I think one lawyer in the family is enough.”

She’d never seen her dad brood, but the way he let his gaze linger, she could see he was having a hard time with her living way out here. He shook his head and glanced at Harley, who was hopping on his three legs over to the sofa, so he reached down and lifted him onto the cushion. Even though Chase had complained constantly about Harley, his hair, and the fact that he was an absolute misfit, she knew he secretly liked him.

“Okay, I do really have to go,” she said, “so how about I take you for lunch when I get back? I don’t expect to be too long.”

Her dad lifted his gaze, and a subtle smile touched his lips. “You want to buy me lunch?”

She shrugged. “Well, I’m sure it’s the least I can do, since you had my car fixed and drove it out here, and now I’m running out on you.”

“You know I would do anything for you,” he said, turning so serious that she had to force herself to pull in a breath.

“I know you would. So what ferry are you on?”

Her dad walked over to the door, which was still open. “The one fifteen this afternoon. Your mom will pick me up on the other side,” he said. As he looked around at her small, cozy place, she didn’t miss the sadness. He had gone quiet, and she knew he was likely going to give her the third degree at some point that night, because that was just what he did.

His arms were crossed, and he seemed to consider something. Then he reached into his pocket for the car keys and held them up. She needed to get the hell out of here, because he didn’t let anything drop.

“So, when you get back,” he said, “I’d like you to explain to me again why you insisted on taking a job on this godforsaken island, getting half the pay you could, with lousy hours, when I had a perfectly good one lined up for you.”

There was just something about her father. When he looked at her like that, she realized he knew her better than she was comfortable with.

“Why do you think this isn’t the job I wanted?” she said. She wondered whether her nose grew, considering the only reason she’d searched out this job was because of the person she was looking for on the island.

“You seem to forget what I do, what I used to do. When I got a call from the head of social services because you were asking about a job opening here, insisting on this place and only this place, I realized there was nothing coincidental about it. You hold your cards close to your chest, Billy Jo. You do this thing, though, when something is going on. I know well the way you evade and get secretive, the way you are now.” He dropped the keys into her outstretched hand, and she had to remind herself to breathe .

There was one more thing about her dad: He was really good at tripping everyone up.

She forced herself not to look away, because this kind of interrogation was what her dad was exceptional at. “You ever think it could be because I wanted to live out on this island? This beautiful place, the quiet, the remoteness…”

Her dad laughed. “Now I know you’re hiding something. You hate ferries, you hate the water, you hate the country. Are you going to tell me you’ve suddenly turned into an outdoorsy girl? As good as you are at hiding what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, I’m better at finding out. I know you better than I think you know yourself.”

Her phone dinged, and she pulled it out to see a text from her boss: Need this wrapped up today!