area around the bar. I guessed Halloween had been quite the party night down here by the docks, and now the revelers were all home recovering.
I hustled to the entrance. As I shouldered the door open and stepped inside, an unexpected chill ran down my spine. Breathing in the smell of stale beer and sweat I’d come to associate with Billy’s, I detected an unusual, underlying scent. Something so pungent I skidded to a stop just as the door slammed shut behind me. What I smelled was the scent of fear and…something else, something metallic.
I glanced around, my eyes adjusting to the dim interior. The string of Halloween lights Jimmy had strung up behind the bar was on, giving everything an eerie orange and purple cast. But otherwise everything looked normal. Well, as normal as Billy’s could look. A half-empty mug of beer rested on the bar, but not a soul was in sight. It was quiet, too quiet. Jimmy always played music, but today the only sound was a steady drip of water coming from somewhere in the back room.
“Jimmy,” I called out, taking a tentative step forward. “Is anybody here?”
My hollow voice echoed, and I sensed there was something terribly wrong. My heart raced, but I continued to take small, shuffling steps, forcing myself to keep walking toward the bar. Closer, closer, but then I slipped, quickly grabbing hold of a bar stool to steady myself.
I glanced down to the dusty, wooden floor. A piece of white paper or something was stuck to the heel of my hiking boot. Reaching down, I peeled it away. It wasn’t a piece of paper after all. It was an envelope. A shaky, childlike “M,” printed on the front in black marker, the only marking on it. A lump rose in my throat, because I knew in my heart that the “M” was for Maddy, and Jimmy had been the one who’d written it.
This was it—the picture! I turned the envelope over and lifted the flap, all the while my hands trembling. But the envelope was empty. There was no photo, nothing.
Had Jimmy dropped the envelope before having a chance to put the photo in it? No, that wasn’t right. Panic set in. Why was the envelope even on the floor? Had someone removed the photo and dropped the envelope? That was looking like the most likely scenario. But if so, who?
“Jimmy?” I called out once more.
Nothing.
Dizziness overtook me, so I closed my eyes. Count to ten...breathe slowly. I slid my hands from one bar stool to the next, letting them be my guide to the end of the bar. When I reached the final stool, I opened my eyes. Coming here was a mistake, a terrible mistake. I felt it with every fiber of my being. And when I leaned around the edge to look behind the bar, my fears were confirmed.
Lying on the floor, in a widening pool of blood, was Jimmy—a single bullet hole marring the pale skin of his forehead.
Chapter 23
The shock of it all knocked the wind out of me, I truly couldn’t breathe. I dropped to my knees, my heart hammering in my chest. My gaze swept over Jimmy’s still form. Nobody could lose this much blood and be alive. My mind refused to accept it though. I placed a shaky hand along the cool skin of his neck, feeling for a pulse. Please, even a weak one, I prayed.
But nothing, nothing. Jimmy was dead.
I yanked my hand back and watched helplessly as the pool of blood beneath his head slowly widened. Sickened, I scooted away and fumbled in my bag for my cell. Once in my shaky grasp—with Jimmy’s blood on my hands, literally and figuratively—I dialed 911. And then I dropped the phone back into my bag and waited.
So much blood, there was so much blood. In my left hand, I was still clenching the envelope I’d stepped on. Loosening my grip, I glanced down. The “M” on the front, now smudged with Jimmy’s spilled blood, taunted me. Though the envelope was empty, I was sure it had once contained the photograph I’d come to pick up. But now that picture was gone. And Jimmy was dead.
Was he dead because he’d been trying to help me with the case? God, I prayed not, but my instincts told me that was the case. I felt numb. Someone had taken a drastic step to ensure the picture remained hidden. Who would murder someone over a picture?