He winced and handed the phone back to the deputy. “Sure looks like it, ma’am. We’d better call your family.”
NINE
The front door was wide open, allowing the acrid smell of blood to mix with the fresh scent of seaweed. Sweat gathered along the collar of Shepherd’s polo and on the back of his knees. He tugged at his shirt to fan himself, trying not to think about the dead body behind him.
Ginny looked so small when the detective stepped away with a phone to his ear that Shepherd couldn’t help himself. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “They’re gonna find your mom,” he promised. “They got that guy Cardello on video.”
She nodded, sniffling. “I don’t know why Charlie Cardello would do something like this.”
“Because he didn’t,” the detective said. “Cardello is dead.”
Oh, talk about instant headache! The spot between his eyes started throbbing. Shepherd furrowed his brow in an attempt to relieve it. The only clue they had, and the guy was dead?
But of course. When did anything in his life, ever, go right?
“What do you mean?” Ginny asked. “My family just represented him a year ago in court.”
“Yeah, well. About five months ago, he was murdered. Sorry, Miss Kent, but I think for now it’s best if you two leave the crime scene. Your father has been notified, and I’ve spoken directly with the chief. We’re pulling everybody in on this. We will find your mother.”
Her phone chimed. Ginny pulled it out of her pocket with another sniffle. Shepherd read the text as soon as she unlocked her phone.
Dad:HOME. NOW.
She left him on “read” and tucked the phone away. “OK. I want to be kept in the loop, though. Please, Detective Hastings. Not just through my father.”
The detective sucked his teeth but nodded. “Fine.”
Her phone chimed again. Ginny sighed. “My family’s home is like an hour away.”
“I’ll drive you,” Shepherd said, caressing her shoulder, her skin soft and warm beneath his palm. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Noah can open. Noah can run the whole restaurant.”
“Better than you can.”
Shepherd’s palm froze on her skin. His lids rapidly blinked over his bulging eyes. “What did you say?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. Finishing that sentence was a force of habit.”
“There was a period. The sentence was finished perfectly the first time.”
Ginny grimaced. “Um,” she tried, “my mom’s just been kidnapped? So, like, insulting you is kind of a security blanket? A comfort in a trying time?”
Shepherd had never been so insulted. “I’ve never been so insulted,” he said. “It’s got my name up on the sign, Ginny. It’s my signature on the bank loan. Do you really think Noah is better at running the restaurant than me?”
“I only meant, you know, that he sort of does everything anyway while you … hide behind the bar?”
Shepherd sighed, letting go of Ginny to pinch the bridge of his nose. This stupid headache was getting worse. “Your voice. It got so high-pitched.”
“Did it?” she asked in an even higher pitch.
“The disrespect. Follows me wherever I go.”
Detective Hastings cleared his throat. “Let me just get your contact information and then you two can be on your way.”
Police cleared the way for Shepherd to pull out of the driveway. Neighbors had gathered on their front lawns, some in bathrobes, some holding coffee mugs, some wiping their sunglasses clean from the steam that appeared on their lenses the moment they stepped outside. Little kids sat on their bikes without peddling, watching the police cars with obvious excitement on their faces.
