Chapter 20 #2
“Blaine,” Galen said by way of greeting, nodding his head at the big man behind the bar. He was tall, although not as tall as Galen. He had broad shoulders, but again not as broad as Galen’s. On the mainland he would be considered a formidable specimen of a man. Here he didn’t stand out.
“Sheriff,” Blaine replied. He pushed his greasy blond hair from his face. “This is a surprise.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“I haven’t broken any laws,” Blaine blurted. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’s not here.”
Galen took a moment to glance between faces, seemingly debating if he wanted to do this in front of an audience. Ultimately, he sighed. “We need to talk about Declan Wilkes.”
I watched Blaine closely for a reaction. Was he surprised? Yes. He hadn’t expected that name to come out of Galen’s mouth. Weirdly, he seemed relieved.
“The guy who owned the bar twenty years ago?” Blaine’s forehead creased. “Why do you care about him?”
“We’re conducting an investigation,” Galen replied.
“The six of you?” Blaine tilted his head, cockiness flooding his eyes as his gaze bounced between Aurora, Lilac, and me. “Since when does the sheriff’s department employ Girl Scouts?”
He might have thought he was being funny but most of his patrons — ruddy-faced individuals who clearly shouldn’t be drinking at all, let alone so early in the day — sucked in worried breaths. I didn’t miss the fact that all of their gazes flitted to Lilac.
“If I were you, I would be careful,” Galen replied. “These Girl Scouts can torch this bar without moving from where they’re standing … or developing a sweat.”
Blaine threw his head back and laughed. “If you say so.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before the drink on the bar in front of him — it looked to be a shot of whiskey — caught fire. Lilac hadn’t twitched as much as a finger before showing off a nifty little parlor trick.
Blaine glanced down at the shot glass, then back up. “I was going to drink that,” he whined.
“Answer our questions and you still can,” Galen replied. “We don’t want to drag this out any longer than you do.”
Blaine sighed. “I didn’t know that Declan guy. He was gone long before I bought the bar.”
“Did you ever meet Michael Smith?” Galen asked.
Blaine shook his head. “I was looking for a business to buy. There weren’t many options that weren’t tied to legacy families.” He sneered at me, as if it was my fault the land ownership requirements on Moonstone Bay were so stringent. “This was the only business on the market.”
“How did you know it was available?” Galen asked. “I don’t remember hearing this place was open for offers until news broke that you’d already bought it.”
“My real estate agent got an email. He told me.”
“And you just swooped in and bought it?”
“I wanted to live here,” Blaine replied. “This was the only way I could do it.” He shrugged. “I plan to fix it up.”
“You’ve owned it for eight years,” Galen pointed out.
“Did you really come here to talk about my decorating skills?” Blaine asked dryly.
Galen shook his head. “I want to know if any of Declan’s things were left here when you bought it.”
Now genuine confusion had Blaine knitting his eyebrows. “I bought it fully furnished.”
“I’m not talking about the furniture,” Galen replied. “I’m looking for personal items. Did you find any mail? What about jewelry? Maybe an article of clothing or something.”
“Nothing like that.” Blaine held out his hands and shrugged. “If that’s all … .”
He was lying. He wasn’t even good at it. He couldn’t make eye contact.
Lilac strode forward with so much swagger I couldn’t help being impressed. Her hand caught fire and she brought the crackling flames close to Blaine’s face. He cringed from her but there was nowhere to go.
“What did he leave behind?” Lilac demanded.
“Nothing,” Blaine repeated.
“I’ll arrange things so that you have to rebuild this bar from the ground up if you lie to me again,” Lilac warned.
Blaine swallowed hard. Hate glittered in his eyes as he regarded Lilac. He might have been a misogynistic jerk but Galen was right; he was more worried about himself than anything else.
“There’s a journal thing,” Blaine replied. “It won’t do you any good, though. It’s locked and everything I’ve tried to get it open has failed. It’s impossible.”
“Why don’t you give it to us and we’ll see if we can get it open?” Galen suggested.
Blaine balked. “It’s mine.”
“It belonged to Declan Wilkes.”
“I bought this place and everything in it. That includes the journal.”
“He thinks there’s some map to buried treasure or something in there,” Aurora guessed. “He thinks you’re stealing from him.”
Galen’s sigh was long and drawn out. “If we find buried treasure thanks to the journal we’ll give it all to you,” he said.
Blaine sputtered. “Like I’m going to believe you.”
“I don’t really care if you believe me,” Galen fired back. “We need that journal.”
“There’s no map in there,” Lilac said. “It belonged to a monster. You can’t make money off it.”
“How do you know?” Blaine challenged. “There’s a market for serial killer stuff.”
“Blaine, you won’t live to spend a single dime if you don’t give me that journal right now,” Lilac seethed. “Give me that journal and stop flapping your lips.”
Blaine seemed to consider it for a long time. Ultimately, his shoulders slumped. “Fine. But I don’t like being bullied.”
Lilac extinguished the flame in her palm. “Something tells me you’ll survive. Cockroaches always do.”