Wild Thing (The Magic Jukebox Book 3) by Judith Arnold Read Free Book Online Page A

plan.
    Nearing
the yacht club, he saw more cars in the parking lot than before. Two of those
cars were gray sedans with “Brogan’s Point Police” spelled out along their
sides and bars of lights stretched across their roofs. Their lights weren’t
flashing, but it didn’t matter. The police were still present, and the boat was
still cordoned off in police tape.
    Shit.
    Once
again, he wanted to U-turn and run away. But he couldn’t. He had to get his
stuff.
    He
reminded himself that he hadn’t broken any laws or done anything wrong. He had
no reason to fear the police. Whatever had happened to the boat—vandalism, a
robbery, someone trespassing and injuring himself—wasn’t his fault.
    Steeling
himself, he continued past the main building, down the sloping gangplank to the
slip where the Freedom was moored. A uniformed officer stood near the boat,
guarding it. He measured Ty with his gaze, then said, “Are you Tyler Cronin?”
    How
did the cop know who Ty was? Ty recalled that he’d signed the marina’s log when
he’d arrived. “Yeah,” he said, tamping down his apprehension. “What’s going on?
Is something wrong?”
    Behind
the cop, he saw the sailboat rocking gently on its rippling cushion of water. A
man dressed in civilian clothes emerged from the cabin. He was tall, with a
square face and hair the color of tempered steel. “Tyler Cronin is here,” the
uniformed cop told him.
    The
other guy stepped off the boat onto the dock. “Detective Ed Nolan,” he
introduced himself, then handed Tyler some papers. “We have a warrant to search
the boat.”
    Tyler
unfolded the document Nolan had given him. A bunch of legalese; he had no idea
what it said, but he’d take the man’s word for it that it was a search warrant.
“Why?”
    “Maybe
you should come down to police headquarters with me,” the detective said. “We
can talk there.”
    “I’ve
got some stuff on the boat I’d like to get,” Ty said, hoping he sounded
innocent. He was innocent, but the way these two officers were staring
at him made him feel guilty as hell. “My clothes, my laptop—”
    “Your
possessions are all in police custody right now,” the detective said. “Let’s go
down to headquarters and see if we can straighten this out.”
    Straightening
things out sounded good to Ty. But he wasn’t naïve. He was in deep shit, and he
had no idea why.
    Refusing
to accompany the detective to the police station was not going to get him out
of that deep shit. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    Rose
Cottage had a problem. A water stain had mysteriously appeared on the wall of
the first-floor parlor.
    Monica
should have been upset, stressed, just this side of frantic. The cottages—four
small, self-contained buildings nestled into the woods on the western side of
the pool patio—were among the inn’s most popular accommodations. They were
often booked in their entirety by reuning families, wedding parties, corporate
executives on a retreat, or any other group that wanted access to the amenities
of the resort but also a private enclave for its own intimate circle. The
cottages weren’t in high demand during the winter months, but as soon as the
summer season started, they got reserved very quickly.
    Rose
Cottage was no exception. It was booked for every weekend from the Memorial Day
weekend through Labor Day, and more than a few of those bookings were for an
entire week. A couple whose wedding would be held at the inn over the Memorial
Day weekend had reserved the cottage for their bridal party and out-of-town
friends.
    But
if there was a water stain on the parlor wall, there was a leak somewhere
behind that wall. When Frank from the maintenance crew phoned Monica’s office,
he warned her that locating the leak might require the plumber to cut through
the wall.
    “We’ve
got the Kolenko party arriving in a week and a half,” she reminded Frank.
    “Then
I guess we’ll have to find the leak, fix it,