Page 85 of Murder on the Boardwalk

“Very. A nasty drug dealer with a solid pipeline into Columbia.”

Lucien chuckled. “You’re a fascinating man to know, Mr. Callahan.”

“Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment. Now where’s the bar?”

“Beer’s in the kitchen. The harder stuff is at the bar in the den. Mind telling me why Jade’s buying a house?”

“It’s a good investment,” Birk noted, making a beeline for the bar, leaving Beckett and Lucien in the entryway.

“I might as well stay put and hand out candy,” Lucien explained, studying his friend, who looked slightly annoyed. “What’s up with you? It can’t be about Halloween.”

Beckett looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. “It’s not. An old girlfriend got in touch with me last night. Kelly doesn’t know anything about it.”

“Uh-oh. That sounds like you’re headed straight for quicksand. I wouldn’t stay there for long. What did the old girlfriend want?”

“That’s just it. Lacey’s friend went missing two weeks ago. She thought I could help her out. You know, because of what we went through to find Brigid. But I hoped I could push her toward you and Brogan and get her off my back.”

“Sure. We’d be happy to look into it. Send me the details.”

Beckett slapped Lucien on the back. “I knew I could count on you to get me out of a jam.”

“Do we need to keep it a secret from Kelly? Because Brogan might not go along with that.”

“I’ll tell Kelly once you guys take over the case.”

The doorbell rang again. Lucien opened it to see his father dressed in 60s fashion in a goldbrocade waistcoat, a frilly shirt, and striped bell-bottom pants. “And I thought I looked ridiculous as The Hatter.”

“It was Janet’s idea. Janet, meet my son, who loves to pick on his old man.”

A lovely brunette in her forties extended her hand. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for inviting us.”

“My pleasure.” After shaking hands, Lucien ushered the couple inside. “Things are a little crazy here. Brogan is around somewhere.”

“We’ll find her,” Graeme said, scooting Janet out of the way with his hands plastered to her rear end.

Lucien rolled his eyes. Janet was at least twenty-five years younger than his dad. “Some things never change,” he muttered as the doorbell rang yet again. He yanked it open. It was more kids trick or treating. He dumped candy in their bags and shut the door, only to find Graeme standing a few feet away.

“There’s this thing I want you to look into for me.”

“What’s that? Because there is something we need to discuss.”

“I have this fan who keeps writing me letters. Love letters,” Graeme whispered. “They’re starting to sound a little whacky if you know what I mean. I want to know who she is. I need you to find out for me and tell her to cut it out.”

Brogan overheard that last part and handed him his drink of choice—a whiskey sour. “Maybe it’s ahepretending to be a she. Did you ever think of that?”

“What? No way. These messages could only have been written by a woman.”

“Why? Because she declared her love for you,” Lucien mumbled. “Did you receive these through the mail?”

“No. No. Nothing like that. She somehow managed to get hold of my email address. She sends me at least one love letter a week. It’s starting to bug Janet. And I’m starting to wonder if she could show up at my house and do something crazy.”

“We went through something similar on our last case. We could try to ID her through an IP address, find out her location, see how close she lives to you,” Lucien offered. “How long has this been going on?”

“Two months or so.”

Brogan took matters into her own hands and slid open the pocket door to the sun porch. “You guys should head in here and talk this out. We’ll need all the particulars if you want us to find this person.” She saw the panicked look on Lucien’s face and nudged him forward. “Use this opportunity to talk about Evan.”

“What about the trick-or-treaters?”

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