Murder Is In the Eye of the Beholder (Piper Ashwell Psychic P.I. Book 14), page 16
“No, but I did remember something. He told me about this place he liked to go to because no one else was there. He said it allowed him to think.”
A place? Like abandoned caves?
“Do you know where this place is?” Mitchell asks.
“No. He said it was by the water, though.”
Mitchell and I exchange a glance, and he says, “Lana, I think you should report him missing. Call the local police, and tell them you haven’t seen Sean in over twenty-four hours. He never returned to your room last night. Then tell them about the location he described to you. Ask them to check the caves on the east end of the island. The ones that are abandoned and blocked off from the public.”
Her eyes narrow. “Caves? If they’re blocked off, how do you know about them?” she asks, and it’s not the question I was expecting.
“Why aren’t you surprised that’s where your brother would be?” I ask her.
She tilts her head back and stares up at the puffy white clouds. “Sean loves caves. He always has. He likes to travel to see as many caves around the world as he can.”
If he knew about the caves on this island, he’d definitely go there. Everything seems to be falling into place.
“There’s a cave here that collapsed a few years ago. That’s why they’re closed to the public now,” I say.
“And my idiot brother probably went there completely drunk.” She throws a hand in the air. “He could be dead inside that cave.”
This could help us. If she tells the police exactly that, they’ll go searching the collapsed cave and find Aubrey’s sunglasses. Hopefully, they’ll find Aubrey as well.
“You need to call the police right away,” I tell her. “We’ve seen those caves. The mud inside can swallow you whole.”
Lana’s eyes fill with tears. “He’s such an idiot. If he got himself killed because of Aubrey Grant…” Sobs swallow the rest of her sentence.
Mitchell places a hand on her arm. “Can you make the call?”
She bobs her head and breathes in deeply. “I’ll go now.” She heads back down the beach, most likely to get her phone.
“They have to find Aubrey,” I say.
“I think Lana is going to give them enough reason to search thoroughly. The fact that Sean has been missing for so long will make the police think he was involved in an accident inside the cave. They’ll search for him, thinking he’s the innocent victim.”
When really he’s the killer we’re searching for.
Sitting around waiting for someone else to do a job I usually do myself is maddening. I can’t do it. We still need to prove Sean is the guilty party, and that’s going to be difficult. Mitchell and I walk the beach as we try to piece together a case against Sean that doesn’t involve my psychic visions. I miss the WPD. At least the officers there are willing to help me find evidence to back up the things I figure out with my senses. I have a feeling I’d be written off as a crazy woman by the local police here.
“The guy Aubrey had drinks with can verify that Sean was unhinged on Saturday night,” I say.
“Agreed, but we don’t even know the guy’s name.”
“Do you want to go back to the lobby and see if he’s still there?” Mitchell asks.
I doubt he would be. We’ve been on the beach for a while now. And besides, I can’t see us walking up to a complete stranger and asking for his name. Unless we lied to him and told him we saw Aubrey, but that could lead to more problems down the road for us if he told the police about it. They’d think Mitchell and I were the last to see her. I don’t need Officer Rickman pointing the finger at us.
“Piper?” Mitchell stops walking and faces me.
“Sorry. My mind is racing. We need concrete evidence.”
“Agreed, but without the killer showing up on the video feed, we don’t have any.”
“How would Sean avoid every video camera when he took Aubrey’s body out of here? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have slung her over his shoulder and carried her out. Someone would have seen.”
“You’re right. So how did he do it? From the sound of it, he was drunk when he caught Aubrey with the guy at the beach bar.”
“Let’s go talk to the bartender. He might have witnessed the encounter.”
Mitchell cocks his head at me. “Why am I getting the sense you want to read him to see it for yourself instead of having him tell us what happened?”
“Because my way is much quicker and I trust my senses more than I trust the bartender’s memory.”
He sighs, but we start walking toward the beach bar. It’s open all the time since they sell mimosas in the morning. Raul walks out from behind the bar and toward the lobby.
“Maybe he’s making a supply run,” Mitchell suggests. “We can sit down and wait for him to get back.”
I take a seat, my nose instantly picking up on a scent. My sense of smell is extremely sensitive, and I recognize the scent immediately.
I grab Mitchell’s arm. “Do you smell that?”
“Smell what? Sunblock? Salt air? Breakfast smells from the restaurant?”
“No, aftershave. I smell the same aftershave Aubrey smelled in the vision right before she was attacked. Sean must have been here recently.”
“What can I get for you guys?”
I jump at the sound of the male voice.
“Sorry to scare you,” he says. He’s not the usual bartender. He’s the guy who typically runs the drinks out to the guests on the beach.
“Hi, um, was there a guy here a moment ago?” I ask. “He’d have glasses and thin lips.”
“Sean?” he asks.
“Yes! That’s him.” He was here. We didn’t see him because we were walking the beach, and Lana had left to go call the police so she didn’t see her brother either.
“He’s always here,” the bartender says. “Poor guy. He’s nursing a serious heartbreak. I think he went to use the restroom. That’s his glass right there. He’ll be back. I’m sure. If not, he’s become our most regular customer, so I know where to charge his drinks.” He takes the glass and puts it in the small sink behind the bar.
“His sister’s been looking for him,” Mitchell says.
“The guy is pretty messed up. He told me his fiancée left him at the altar. Then she came on their honeymoon and had the nerve to flirt with other men right in front of him.” He shakes his head. “Heartless, am I right?”
That’s definitely one of the words I’d use to describe Aubrey Grant.
“Any idea where Sean’s been hiding out? He never returned to his room last night. His sister is really worried about him,” Mitchell says.
“I found him sleeping in a lounge chair one morning. I was setting them all up for the day, and there he was.”
Was it the same lounge chair he killed Aubrey in? Was it guilt that brought him back to it?
“I feel bad for the guy. He’s been drunk the entire time he’s been here, and not in a fun, carefree way. He’s trying to drink his feelings away for sure.”
I can tell he feels bad for Sean. He empathizes with him. I wonder if he’s been through something similar and can relate to the feeling. I’ve come to learn bartenders are pretty much therapists without the degrees.
“Maybe I should call Lana and see if Sean went back to their room,” Mitchell says, taking out his phone.
“Can I get you a drink?” the bartender asks. “I still have a pitcher of mimosas made.” He raises the pitcher.
I don’t drink on cases, so I say, “How about some coffee instead?”
He lowers the pitcher. “Sure. No problem.”
Mitchell stands up. “I’m not getting reception here. I’m going to walk down the beach a bit. I’ll be right back.”
I nod.
The bartender pours two coffees and puts the cups down on the bar. “Raul wasn’t feeling well, so I’m working double duty. I have to go check on the sunbathers and see if anyone wants a drink. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Sure,” I say.
He walks around the bar, and as he passes me I get a whiff of aftershave. Without thinking, I reach out and touch his arm.
Sean is seated at the bar, nursing a margarita. “Hey, do you wear Moonlight Melon aftershave?” he asks.
The bartender narrows his eyes. “Yeah, why?”
“I do, too. My fiancée used to like it. Or so she told me. That was before she dumped me.”
“Are you okay?” the bartender asks me.
I blink my eyes. “Sorry. Yeah, I got a little lightheaded for a second there. I didn’t mean to scare you or grab onto you like that.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You okay now?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.” I swivel back around on the barstool and wait a few seconds before turning my head to watch him walk down the beach.
Mitchell returns and cocks his head at me. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“The bartender uses the same aftershave Sean does.”
Mitchell sits down. “Okay. Is that important?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. I think yes.” I try to sort through everything in my head. “He wears the same aftershave. He moved the lounge chairs. He knew about Aubrey and sympathized with Sean.”
“Piper, I think you’re reaching here.”
“I read his emotions, Mitchell. He empathized with Sean. He’s been through something similar himself.”
“That doesn’t mean he’d lash out and murder a complete stranger.”
“I know.” What am I missing? My senses zeroed in on the bartender. Why? There’s a reason I had that vision just now. I go back over all my visions, searching for a connection I’ve missed. When it comes to me, my mouth falls open. “I know what it is.”
Mitchell runs his hand over my arm, and I look down to see I’m covered in goose bumps. I’m right about this.
“That bartender, he was in all of my visions. In the first one, he delivered Aubrey’s drink, which means he heard her phone conversation with Nicole. And then in the second vision, Lana Stewart collided with him after she told off Aubrey. He was there. He heard that, too. And Sean told him all about the wedding. He knew what kind of person Aubrey really was behind that pretty face. He was even in the vision I had in the taxi. He ditched his car after dumping Aubrey’s body, and then he took the taxi back to the resort.”
“Okay, slow down.” Mitchell squints at me. “You’re saying Sean didn’t kill Aubrey?”
“No, he didn’t. The bartender did.” I turn to look at the bartender, smiling and waiting on the guests lounging on the beach.
“No one is ever going to believe this,” Mitchell says.
“I’m pretty sure that’s what he’s counting on.” But I also know he never anticipated a psychic like me would be staying at this resort.
Chapter Nineteen
Mitchell is watching the bartender closely. “Any idea how we pin this on him?”
“No one is perfect. He must have left evidence somewhere.”
“His car. You said he dumped it.”
“I’m assuming, but yes. It’s not like he could have taken a taxi when he was hauling a dead body.”
“Point well taken. So where’s the car? It will have Aubrey’s DNA in it. Finding it could mean solving the case.”
He’s right. And there’s only one way I can locate the car. I need to read the bartender again. “Get your game face on. We need to get him talking to us when he gets back.”
Mitchell grips my left hand. “I don’t want you touching him.”
“Okay, you read him then,” I say.
He gives me his “Piper, be reasonable” look, but we both know I’m right.
“Let me get him talking and see what I can do before you jump to assaulting the guy.”
To our surprise, Raul comes back to the bar.
“Hey, you two,” he says, recognizing us.
“We heard you were under the weather,” Mitchell says.
Raul waves a hand in the air. “I’m okay. For a second, I thought I was having a relapse of whatever got me Saturday night.”
My interest is immediately peaked. “What happened to you Saturday night?” I ask.
“Some sort of stomach bug, I guess. I started to feel awful. Luckily, Micah covered for me. I was late coming in Sunday morning as well. I overslept.”
“Micah?” I ask.
“Yeah, the guy who runs the drinks out to the guests on the beach. He usually doesn’t close at night or open in the morning. That’s my job, but I felt so awful. He volunteered to do it for me so I could go home.”
“What does closing up for the night entail?” Mitchell asks.
“Oh, you know, clearing any drinks left out at the beach, taking out the trash, and cleaning all the glasses.”
Taking out the trash. My eyes find the giant garbage can behind the bar. A body could fit in there. Micah could have dumped Aubrey in there after killing her and then walked her right past any cameras without her body being seen.
“He did a great job. Other than accidentally throwing out the entire garbage can.” Raul laughs.
“Then that’s not the garbage can you usually use?” I ask, motioning to the one behind him.
Raul turns around. “No. Micah left it out for the garbage men. When he went to find it the next day, it was gone.”
“But garbage pickup was Monday, wasn’t it? If he left it out on Saturday night, it should have been there Sunday morning,” I say.
Raul stops cleaning a glass and looks up. “You know, you’re right. That is strange.”
Not when you know Micah had to get rid of the garbage can because it had Aubrey’s DNA on it. I look at the one behind the bar. There’s no bag in it, meaning it’s meant to be dumped into a dumpster. Without a bag, there was no way to contain Aubrey’s body and not leave DNA behind. Micah had no choice but to get rid of the can itself. He must have dumped that, too.
A few other people come to the bar and sit down, so Raul goes to get their drink orders. I lean toward Mitchell. “We need to keep an eye on Micah. It’s going to take a while for the police to find Aubrey’s body, and we can’t let him know that’s what they’re doing.”
“Agreed. I don’t see how he’d find out, so we should be fine.”
We drink our coffees, getting refills twice.
“Late night or something? I’ve never seen two people drink so much coffee,” Raul says.
“We’ve worked up a tolerance to caffeine,” Mitchell tells him.
“I guess you must have. Most people would be really jittery after that much.” He laughs and walks to the other end of the bar.
Micah returns a few times to get drinks for the people on the beach. On the outside, he seems so normal. Not like a killer at all. So what was it specifically about Aubrey that set him off? Was it when she told him she was out of his league? That seems so minor. But maybe Micah has anger management issues. It might not take much to set him off.
I do my best to watch him without being obvious that’s what I’m doing. But then I get an idea. The next time Micah goes behind the bar, I ask Raul, “Have you seen that guy Sean? The one whose fiancée left him at the altar?”
Raul rolls his eyes. “That guy is a piece of work. I had to cut him off a few times. His ex-fiancée was here, too, you know. They fought. I had to send Sean away.”
“Did he get out of hand?” I ask.
“Very much so. He threatened the guy who was buying the ex-fiancée drinks.” Raul pours a mimosa and places it on a tray for Micah.
“Yeah, the guy told us about that. Seems like everyone here has met Sean at some point,” I say.
“And I bet he was drunk at every occurrence.” Raul shakes his head. “That was the only good part about being sick Saturday night. I didn’t have to deal with that guy. He kept coming back after I cut him off.” He turns to Micah. “Did you see him again that night?”
Micah furrows his brow. “I don’t remember. He was passed out on the beach Sunday morning, though.”
“Figures. Sorry you got stuck dealing with that.”
“No problem. I was happy to help you out.” Micah takes the tray of drinks and walks off down the beach.
“Has he been working here long?” I ask Raul.
“Not very long. That’s why I’m the opener and closer. Mr. Chambers doesn’t trust many people when it’s his name and reputation on the line.”
I’ve figured that out already.
“Micah worked with the road crew for a while. He actually helped clean up the mess from the fallen cave a few years back. Have you guys heard about that?”
I sit up straighter. “You mean he was part of the rescue crew?”
“Yeah, he and a crew were out working on the road when the side of the mountain sort of collapsed. Micah fell down the side of it, and that’s when he found the tourists down there taking pictures. He called for help and started trying to pull them out.”
How does a guy who seems to want to help people wind up murdering someone? This doesn’t make sense.
“He sounds like a hero,” Mitchell says, voicing what I’m thinking and looking as confused about it as I am.
“Yeah. Mr. Chambers was certainly impressed with the story. He hired Micah on the spot. I was here during his interview. It’s sad that there were no survivors. I think he still carries the weight of that day around with him.”
“I’d imagine he would.” I remember the name and face of every person I wasn’t able to save. Sometimes I wake up at night because I see them in my dreams. It haunts me. Even knowing I always do everything in my power to save people, sometimes it’s not enough, and I can’t get past that.
Lana rushes over to the bar. “Oh good. You’re still here. The police called me. They’re at the caves, and you’ll never believe what they found.”
“Caves?” Raul asks. “The ones we were just talking about?”
Lana shrugs. “The ones on the eastern end of the island. I thought my brother might be there.”
Raul looks confused. “Wait. You’re Sean’s sister, aren’t you? I saw you the other night. You were looking for him.”
“Yeah. He’s been missing. These two thought maybe he’d gone to the caves. Sean has this thing for caves, so I called the police.”
