her, she thought as a flash of anger swept through her.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was marching toward him, determined to find out what was going on.
ELEVEN
She approached him at a brisk pace, bearing down on him like a bull on a matador, but he held his ground almost casually. Slipping his notebook and pen into a pocket, he shifted his body around slightly to face her full on, and pulled his coat aside as he dropped one hand to his utility belt, perhaps in an effort to draw attention to the items it held, including a flashlight, Taser, handcuffs, and pepper spray, as well as his sidearm, all within easy reach.
Candy barely noticed. She was determined to get answers.
“Officer McCroy,” she called out when she was still several yards away, “will you tell me what in the heck’s going on?”
He nodded curtly and professionally. “Ma’am, just calm down.”
“I am calm,” Candy said as she stopped a few feet in front of him, crossing her arms tightly in front of her for emphasis, “but I want to know what you’re up to. You’ve been following me around for two days now, writing thingsdown in that little notebook of yours and making no effort to conceal yourself. Am I under investigation?”
The police officer pressed his lips together, but otherwise his face remained stoic. “No, ma’am.”
“Then why the shadow routine?”
“Ma’am?”
She let out a breath of frustration. “Why are you always standing there when I look around? Just tell me what this is all about.”
“I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am.”
“You can call me Candy. Who
is
at liberty to say?”
“That would be Chief Durr, ma’am, um, Ms. Holliday.”
“The chief?” Candy made a face. “But why would he tell you to…?
She caught herself as she suddenly realized the answer. “Does this have anything to do with that body in the woods?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, ma’am, pending chief’s orders.”
“You’re trying to keep me out of trouble, aren’t you? You’re afraid I’m going to solve another mystery in this town and embarrass the police department, right?”
Officer McCroy remained silent. She knew she had struck a nerve. She pressed on.
“So, what? You’re following me because you think I’m investigating the mystery on my own and will stumble upon a few clues?”
“It’s possible Mr. Hatch might contact you again at some point,” Officer McCroy confirmed. “We want to be there if he does.”
“Ah, so that’s it. I’m sort of an accessory to an alleged murder?”
After a few moments, the officer said, “It’s for your own safety, ma’am.”
“Hmm.” Candy studied him for a few moments. “Have you found Solomon yet?”
No response.
“Are you conducting any more searches today, or have you called the whole thing off?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss police business with a civilian.”
“So,” Candy said, as if that proved her theory, “I’m right, aren’t I? This is Chief Durr’s way of keeping me in line.”
Officer McCroy’s gaze narrowed in on her, and as if he were echoing the chief’s words, he said, “If I can give you one piece of advice, ma’am, you should leave the detecting to the detectives.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Candy muttered under her breath as her cell phone buzzed, distracting her. She shook her head as she turned away and fished in a pocket for her phone. She didn’t recognize the number that flashed on the phone’s small front display screen, though it was a local area code. She flipped it open and held it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Is this Candy Holliday?”
She said that it was. “Who’s this?”
“My name is Annabel Foxwell. You may have heard of me. I live at Shipwreck Cove with my sisters.”
Candy had indeed heard of her. The Foxwell sisters—Annabel, Isabel, and Elizabeth—were local, middle-aged eccentrics who lived in a weathered, hundred-year-old saltbox on a seaside homestead not
Before she knew what she was doing, she was marching toward him, determined to find out what was going on.
ELEVEN
She approached him at a brisk pace, bearing down on him like a bull on a matador, but he held his ground almost casually. Slipping his notebook and pen into a pocket, he shifted his body around slightly to face her full on, and pulled his coat aside as he dropped one hand to his utility belt, perhaps in an effort to draw attention to the items it held, including a flashlight, Taser, handcuffs, and pepper spray, as well as his sidearm, all within easy reach.
Candy barely noticed. She was determined to get answers.
“Officer McCroy,” she called out when she was still several yards away, “will you tell me what in the heck’s going on?”
He nodded curtly and professionally. “Ma’am, just calm down.”
“I am calm,” Candy said as she stopped a few feet in front of him, crossing her arms tightly in front of her for emphasis, “but I want to know what you’re up to. You’ve been following me around for two days now, writing thingsdown in that little notebook of yours and making no effort to conceal yourself. Am I under investigation?”
The police officer pressed his lips together, but otherwise his face remained stoic. “No, ma’am.”
“Then why the shadow routine?”
“Ma’am?”
She let out a breath of frustration. “Why are you always standing there when I look around? Just tell me what this is all about.”
“I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am.”
“You can call me Candy. Who
is
at liberty to say?”
“That would be Chief Durr, ma’am, um, Ms. Holliday.”
“The chief?” Candy made a face. “But why would he tell you to…?
She caught herself as she suddenly realized the answer. “Does this have anything to do with that body in the woods?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, ma’am, pending chief’s orders.”
“You’re trying to keep me out of trouble, aren’t you? You’re afraid I’m going to solve another mystery in this town and embarrass the police department, right?”
Officer McCroy remained silent. She knew she had struck a nerve. She pressed on.
“So, what? You’re following me because you think I’m investigating the mystery on my own and will stumble upon a few clues?”
“It’s possible Mr. Hatch might contact you again at some point,” Officer McCroy confirmed. “We want to be there if he does.”
“Ah, so that’s it. I’m sort of an accessory to an alleged murder?”
After a few moments, the officer said, “It’s for your own safety, ma’am.”
“Hmm.” Candy studied him for a few moments. “Have you found Solomon yet?”
No response.
“Are you conducting any more searches today, or have you called the whole thing off?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss police business with a civilian.”
“So,” Candy said, as if that proved her theory, “I’m right, aren’t I? This is Chief Durr’s way of keeping me in line.”
Officer McCroy’s gaze narrowed in on her, and as if he were echoing the chief’s words, he said, “If I can give you one piece of advice, ma’am, you should leave the detecting to the detectives.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Candy muttered under her breath as her cell phone buzzed, distracting her. She shook her head as she turned away and fished in a pocket for her phone. She didn’t recognize the number that flashed on the phone’s small front display screen, though it was a local area code. She flipped it open and held it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Is this Candy Holliday?”
She said that it was. “Who’s this?”
“My name is Annabel Foxwell. You may have heard of me. I live at Shipwreck Cove with my sisters.”
Candy had indeed heard of her. The Foxwell sisters—Annabel, Isabel, and Elizabeth—were local, middle-aged eccentrics who lived in a weathered, hundred-year-old saltbox on a seaside homestead not
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