Page 28 of Murder in the Lighthouse

“I couldn’t sleep. I thought a hit of Jack Daniels might help.”

“You drank an entire glass. That must be the reason you passed out?”

“I did not pass out,” Lucien protested. “But I did something you may not approve of.”

“If you’re about to admit you joined a porn site—”

“Worse. I replied to Truthseeker22.”

“You did what?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s brilliant.”

One eyebrow arched in confusion. “You think so? I thought you might be upset.”

“No. Not at all. Sure. Why not contact him directly? I mean, it might involve playing cat and mouse with him for a while, trying to get him to trust you, but isn’t that the important thing? That he trusts you enough to give you more information?”

“It sounded much better than that around midnight in my boozed state. I thought it might be a quicker solution. But I can see how I’d need to build his trust before he’ll tell me anything at all.”

“Did you check to see if he replied?”

“Of course.” He shook his head. “It’s too soon.”

Brogan took a sip of her coffee, contemplating their next move. She knew they were walking a fine line by engaging an online persona. “This guy could be our best chance at uncovering the same thing Bethany discovered. Or he could be the killer using his online presence to toy with the bloggers. We need to be careful. We can’t afford any missteps. This is an unknown entity, like all complete strangers you meet online, he could be any weirdo who wants to yank our chain.”

Lucien nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “We need to keep at it, though, engage him in conversation, gain his trust, and maybe he’ll reveal something crucial we wouldn’t have known otherwise. If he bothers to answer at all.”

“He will. He can’t resist feeling superior about what he knows.”

“Once we gain his trust, what if we set up a meeting with this guy? Make it somewhere public, where we can observe him from a discreet distance.”

“Let’s not get carried away. The first step is waiting for him to reply. That could take days or even weeks. That’s when we feel him out and find out who we’re dealing with, little by little.”

“I’m suddenly starving.”

“How about I make pancakes? While I whip up the batter, you can start the bacon.”

“Deal.”

As they finishedbreakfast, Lucien’s phone rang. “It’s Graeme. He’ll want an update on his stalker.”

“Do you have an update?”

“You know I don’t have any more than I did when I traced the email back to the general vicinity of Santa Barbara.” He turned his focus to his cell phone. “Hello? Dad? What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you what’s up, mate. A huge arrangement of posies just showed up at the front gate. They’re for me, and they’re freaking me out. This has gone on long enough. I want you to find out who’s doing this and make them stop. Sending me flowers is over the top.”

“Okay. I will. I hear you. It’s unacceptable for anyone to send you flowers.”

“I don’t need a smart-ass answer, Lucien. This is serious. Maybe not to you, but to me, anyway. I need to know if I should buy a can of pepper spray or maybe a gun for protection.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t Mace anyone, Dad. Or worse, don’t shoot anybody. The tabloids would crucify you. Just calm down.I’m taking care of it. Was this a simple bouquet from someone’s garden, or is it an arrangement sent by a florist?”

“A bloody florist, who do you think? It’s two feet tall, as big as a small tree. It must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Which florist? Was it one in town?”

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