Chaos in Charleston (Deadly Destinations #3)

Chapter 1

It wasn’t that I was a man-hater of the entire species. But one man in particular would never receive a moment of peace from me. It wasn’t even his fault—not entirely. Sure, he’d started it, but just something in my veins grew agitated every time I saw him.

Like right then.

Dane Dunn.

The tall, dark-haired and brown-eyed former Navy SEAL walked into the Mellow Mushroom Pizzeria like he was the hottest person in the room.

And frankly, it pissed me off, but he was. The woman at the table next to me even swooned.

I pushed back a piece of my long brown hair, a few shades lighter than the hot dude in question, and did my best to appear perpetually pissed off.

“Dane,” I said as he slid into the chair on the other side of my table. “I’m glad to see you made it on time today.”

“Delaney.” He adjusted his chair and rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. “Don’t start that again, princess. I’ve only been late once.”

Once was enough.

I hated it when he called me princess. I told him so on our last trip together, but it only seemed to make him call me that more often. It would be the last time I’d tell him anything important. Clearly, he wasn’t to be trusted. I already knew that, but it was good to have it confirmed.

“It was an important time.” We had a case to research together in Maryland. Dane showed up an entire day late with a story about a parrot and buried treasure.

I’d been fine in Maryland alone for that day. Truthfully, I’d been great on all my cases. My job as a researcher for the podcast Death Finds You First wasn’t that adventurous. You have one reporter robbed at gunpoint, and everyone loses their minds. Management brought in the SEALs right after.

They were here to serve as bodyguards, but considering my best friend—and stand-in reporter—was almost killed under their protection, I wasn’t sure they were worth the money. He saved her life… technically.

“I already ordered,” I said as he grabbed his menu from the table.

Dane’s eyebrows lifted an inch. “Is that so? I guess that means you expected me after all.”

“What can I say? I’m an optimistic person. Always thinking the best of people.” Well, everyone except the SEAL in front of me.

Our waitress, a young twenty-something wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt, approached our table carrying a medium pizza—half veggie and half meat.

The tie-dyed uniform matched the décor of the restaurant.

Mellow Mushroom looked like a hippie, high-as-a-kite, designed the place.

The large, brightly painted murals on the wall freaked me out, but they had the best pizza I’d ever eaten.

“Thanks,” Dane said as he spotted the meat-heavy side of the pizza.

I grabbed my first piece and slid it onto my plate. “No problem.”

Just because I didn’t like the man didn’t mean I’d keep him from the world’s best pizza. We’d shared more than one pie together on different cases, so I knew his preferences. And those never included veggies.

“Going to all these places with you is going to make me fat,” Dane said as he took two pieces for himself. A hunk of sausage flopped off and rolled to the floor.

I scoffed as I chewed my piece. The delicious flavor of cheese melted over my tongue. My word, I loved cheese. “Now, you sound like a woman.”

“So, why are we in the beautiful city of Charleston, South Carolina, in October? And why is it still so hot?”

“Because it’s the South. Be thankful the humidity is lower this time of year.” I’d gone to visit my friend, Elenore, in Savannah in August, and I swear the air was trying to drown me. “We’re here to research the mysterious death of William Drake, a local who died six months ago.”

The case had gotten very little national attention—people died all the time—which meant no other podcasts had highlighted it. We’d have fresh material before anyone else. With podcast subscribers growing every month, we needed cases to stay ahead of the curve. Something new with a good spin.

Death Finds You First had been the number one downloaded and listened to podcast for months. We weren’t losing that title because we let our cases grow stale.

“How did good ol’ Will die?” Dane asked. He’d moved on to the second piece of pizza and was already eyeing another.

I set my crust on the edge of my plate, so he’d know it was safe to grab it. “Police declared William dead on the scene after finding him floating alongside the USS Yorktown, a World War Two aircraft carrier that now serves as a museum outside of town.”

“Fascinating,” he said, tipping his head to the side in interest. See, I knew this would be an exceptional case to highlight. Dane grabbed my abandoned piece of crust and ripped off half of it in one bite.

I nodded. “Right?”

“Did he fall off the ship?” Dane asked.

Now he was asking the important questions. I’d trained him well. “No one knows. William was on the USS Yorktown for an overnight paranormal investigation the night of his death.”

“What did he do for a living?” Dane asked. “Billionaire, CEO, real estate tycoon?”

“No.” My lips pursed. You didn’t have to be rich to be an interesting dead person.

“He was born and raised in Charleston. Will worked as a local tour guide and ran a successful history of Charleston blog. He was on the boat as part of the paranormal investigation, but none of the other participants saw him fall into the water.”

“That’s… suspicious.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. Hence why we’re here.” And a few other reasons, but we didn’t need to get into them right then. I intended to keep my ultimate plans as far away from Dane’s notice as possible. Then he couldn’t stop me.

Considering he noticed everything—that damn SEAL training—I’d have my work cut out for me.

Dane chewed on another piece of pizza, rescuing a wayward piece of sausage this time. “And this is podcast worthy because?”

See, he always asked more questions than I wanted.

I leaned in at the edge of the table to whisper. “What if the ship’s ghosts killed him?”

Dane’s forehead furrowed, creating deep lines across its middle. “I was under the impression you were smart.”

“Excuse me?” I asked as I pulled back from the table. That’s rude.

Someone pushed away from their chair loudly, causing a scraping sound to echo in the slightly noisy restaurant.

He took a sip of water. “Ghosts? Really?”

“No, but it would be a good story, and who knows,” I said with a small shrug. “Maybe we’ll end up solving it.”

“Oh, no.” His furrowed expression returned. “Is this because of Elenore and Savannah? Her solving that case was a fluke.”

“No, calm down, killer. It’s just a fresh case, unlike our last two. The police ruled William’s death a suicide, even though he had no water in his lungs.”

That was freaking just wrong. How did someone drown without water in their lungs? It made no sense, and no one else was looking into it. Suspicious.

I jerked my head around Dane as someone behind him swore hard enough to cut through the regular sound of chatter.

“That means,” Dane thought for a second, “he was dead before going into the drink.”

“Exactly. That means murder, Dane.”

Murder with a capital M.

“You’re a fucking asshole. I can’t believe you’d cheat on me,” a woman yelled from the same table that had the commotion earlier. I immediately moved my attention from Dane to the argument.

A man stood up. “Diane, don’t be this way.”

Splash! Water sprayed over the table, the man, the chair, and the floor as Diane threw a full glass of it at him.

“What the fuck was that for?” the man at the table behind them, who got hit with the offshoots, yelled. He stood up too.

Dane counted out a stack of money from his wallet and threw it on the table. “Why are you always causing trouble everywhere we go?”

“Me?” How was he blaming this on me?