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There was some shuffling, a footstep or two coming her way. Misty went stiff and looked around for the closest cover in case the door opened again. There wasn’t any.
“I blame me,” the detective said. “I don’t know, I was almost over it, I think and then this podcast thing comes along, and it’s in my face again. People calling the station, three angry letters to the editor in the paper. So far. There’ll be more. The freaking morning DJ at WSPN was talking about it yesterday.”
“The campus station?” Mackey asked. “At least it’s smalltime.”
“Has this podcast thing hurt your business?”
Misty went stiff, listened harder. Zig had deliberately not mentioned The Sapphire Club by name, but it was the only club in the Springs with a mermaid show. They’d discussed it and decided to err on the side of not getting sued.
“Business… has picked up, actually. People are curious.”
“People are sick fucks.”
“That they are,” Mr. Mackey said. “We’ve had a coupl’a nasty phone calls, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“Send me the numbers. It’s harassment. I’ll pay the assholes a visit.”
Mackey laughed softly, like he loved the idea of her intimidating the callers. Then his laugh stopped abruptly. “Jesus, I hope the assholes aren’t bothering Paul.” Then, “What’s that? What’s that look? Don’t tell me you suspect Paul again, after all this time.”
Footsteps came toward the door, and Misty tiptoed backwards up the hall, so if that door opened, she could shift into walking forward. That would work, right?
“You do, don’t you?” Mr. Mackey asked. “I thought you cleared him, back then?”
“You know I can’t talk about the case, Earl.”
“Come on. You seriously think Paul could’ve hurt Eva?”
“I think he did hurt Eva,” she blurted.
Misty stopped backing up and moved a few steps closer again. If she could have perked her ears, she would have.
“I’ve always thought it,” the detective went on slowly. “And if I could get a search warrant for that freaking cabin, I bet I could figure out how.”
The hair on Misty’s arms was standing up straight. Then the doorknob turned, and the office door opened just a little. “And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll find a reason to shut this place down.”
“Who’m I gonna tell?” Mackey asked.
Misty backed up two more silent steps, then ducked sideways into the main dining room. By the time Detective Scott came down the hall, she was on a bar stool in front of a fortuitously forgotten glass with a little bit of something dark in the bottom, rum or Coke or both, and a swizzle stick. She grabbed the swizzle and stirred the melting ice cubes around in the liquid.
Behind the bar, Taylor pushed his long blond bang off his forehead and frowned at her.
Detective Scott glanced at her, then at the glass, then her again. She gave a nod, then crossed the dining room and went out the main entry doors, all the way on the opposite end of the room as the stage.
Misty pulled out her phone and texted Zig.
Misty: Need to talk ASAP.
Chapter 4
“What? What is it?” Zig asked. She’d met Misty on the busy sidewalk outside their dorm, didn’t even wait for her to come in. Her glasses were red-framed today, and the eyes behind them were excited.
Misty took her hand and started back the way she’d come. “Too many people,” she said under her breath, tugging her toward the quad. When they were out of earshot of others, she leaned close, talking as fast as she was walking. “Cop came to the club today asking me about your podcast, saying it was stirring up a lot of interest in the case. Says it was her case.”
“Detective Scott?” Zig widened her eyes, then paced away. “She probably saw the damn FOIA request for the case files, too. What did you tell her?”
They passed a group of freshmen. You could always tell freshmen because of the fear in their eyes. After they were out of earshot she said, “That I didn’t know anything about it. She didn’t find that credible, being that I’m your roommate and a mermaid.”
“Yeah, not your best lie. You’re also admin on all our social.”
