His mom put her hand to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. “Blake, you have to be kidding me.”
“No joke, Mom. I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m already planning how to spend it.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m so thankful. Wait until I tell Frank.”
“I can’t wait to tell Drew. He’s heading this way.” Paradise motioned through the window for her brother to join them.
Drew entered a few moments later. “You’re all smiling so I assume it went well.”
“It couldn’t have been better.” Paradise told him what had happened. “Did you talk to Jane Dixon?”
“I did. There’s one other officer around who might know something about the case. He lives out on Fort Morgan Road. I called him and arranged for us to talk to him tonight after dinner if you want to come along.”
Blake’s spirits soared even more at the hope in Paradise’s face, but he worried that solving the murders might prove harder than saving The Sanctuary.
Chapter 13
Fort Morgan Road was Paradise’s favorite place in the Gulf Shores area. She watched for glimpses of the Gulf of America on one side and Mobile Bay on the other. Many of the homes were on stilts, and the sugar-white sand was a dream to see and to walk on.
Detective Booker Lewis lived out on the peninsula along Mobile Bay across from The Beach Club. The small ranch-style home had a killer view of the gentle waters of the bay. The large yard was nicely manicured with a small vegetable garden. Blake parked, and the three of them got out to the sound of voices on the water side.
Drew gestured to the walkway that skirted the side of the house. “He said they were working on the new deck out on the water. Nice place.”
“Cute,” Paradise agreed. Their shoes crunched on the crushed oyster shells as they rounded the house to the front. She spotted a man and a woman sitting on a small pier. The salty breeze lifted Paradise’s hair and blew it in her face. She should have pulled it back today.
Drew took the lead and walked ahead of them. Even in shorts and a tee, he appeared in charge and professional. Every time she’d had to ask questions, she felt out of her element, but her brother was used to this.
Blake took her hand, and she laced her fingers with his as they fell behind Drew a few feet. “I hope Lewis has some unseen files for you.”
“Me too. I was trying to remember if I’d ever talked to him. My memories of that time are still faint.”
The pier shuddered when they stepped onto the new boards, and the man turned their way. He wasn’t much taller than Paradise, but his thick muscles flexed with power under his tee. His cropped Afro highlighted intelligent brown eyes that narrowed when he spotted them. Paradise was filled with a distinct memory of him putting his hand on her head and telling her he was sorry.
He held out his hand. “Detective Booker Lewis, and you must be Detective Drew Bartley.” He gestured to the woman standing to one side with a shy smile. She was softly rounded with dark brown hair. “My wife, Chantel.”
Drew shook her hand and made the introductions to Blake and Paradise.
Booker’s expression softened. “You were just a little thing when I saw you last.”
“You were the first officer to come that night,” she said. “You had tears in your eyes when you led me out of the bedroom.”
“We have a daughter about your age. When I got home that night, I went into her bedroom and kissed her while she was sleeping. You went through a terrible thing, Ms. Alden, just terrible.”
“Call me Paradise.” She glanced Chantel’s way. “I think you came to the funeral?”
Chantel nodded. “We both did. I made sun tea if you’d like some.”
“That would be great,” Drew said. “We’re still floundering on where to look for their killer.”
Booker gestured to an outdoor seating area around a firepit, and they all took a seat. A worn notebook lay on a table next to one of the chairs, and he picked it up. “These are my notes, and I scanned them into an email and sent them to you, but I thought maybe we’d go over them together. They might trigger a memory for you, Paradise. Me too, for that matter.” He placed the notebook on his lap and flipped open the cover. “The thing that struck me was that all the doors were unlocked even though it was late—11:01 p.m. to be precise. Did your parents commonly lock their doors?”
“Sure. Mom was kind of paranoid about making sure we were locked in tight, especially when Dad was out of town like that night.”
“And you weren’t expecting him back yet?”
“He was supposed to be gone two nights, and he’d left that morning before coming back in the night. I didn’t see him though, not until h-he was dead.”
“You were so traumatized you didn’t tell us many details of what happened. You remember now?”
