Before he could respond, the phone began to ring, drawing Meagan out of hiding. She slipped past Darci and laid an envelope on the counter, avoiding eye contact with him. Yep, definitely someone with something to hide.
As soon as he could get Darci alone, he’d talk to her. If she would give him the information he needed, he’d put it through the database. Running the numbers on Meagan’s boat registration sticker had led nowhere. They were easy enough to get; she kept the boat pulled up on the narrow strip of beach at Darci’s parents’ place. But it was still in Darci’s dad’s name. And Meagan had no car tag to run. According to Darci, she didn’t even have a bank account. She cashed her checks at Darci’s bank, then paid her bills with cash or money orders.
Meagan picked up the envelope she had previously laid down and began to tap it against the counter. Whoever was on the phone was apparently trying to sell her something, judging from her side of the conversation. But Meagan wasn’t budging. Finally, she hung up. Whether the conversation actually ended or she got fed up and cut it short, he couldn’t tell.
She handed the envelope to Darci.
“What’s this?”
Meagan shrugged. “I don’t know. I assumed it was yours. I found it on a shelf in the back where the beach-themed stuff is.”
Darci broke the seal and removed a single sheet of paper. As soon as she unfolded it, her eyes widened and her brows drew together.
Meagan stepped closer, and her gaze dipped to the page. Her reaction was stronger than Darci’s. She gasped and stumbled backward, her hand to her chest.
“What is it?” He couldn’t see what was written from his position across the counter.
Darci handed him what she held. Three lines of slanted black print filled the center of the page: You killed him. For this you will die.
Darci shook her head. “I’m sure it wasn’t there when I straightened up yesterday. So that means someone left it today. But I have no idea who. Probably a couple dozen people came through here this morning.”
“Is there anything in particular that you can remember about any of them? Anything out of the ordinary? Anyone acting strange?”
“Not that I recall. They all just seemed like normal tourists to me. Meagan?”
Meagan swallowed hard and shook her head. She hadn’t said a word since Darci opened the letter. She had managed to make it to a stool, though, which was a good thing. As pale as she had gotten, Hunter wasn’t sure she would be able to stand on her own. A pang of tenderness shot through him. Regardless of what she had done, the fear and vulnerability in her eyes wove their way straight to his heart. But he wouldn’t let that get in the way of doing his job.
“Were any of your visitors big guys with close-cropped hair and a scar on one cheek?” He kept his eyes on Darci, trying to ignore Meagan’s glare. Yes, he’d been eavesdropping, and now she knew.
Darci raised her brows. “It sounds as if you’re thinking of someone in particular.”
“A guy was in Nature’s Landing yesterday asking a lot of questions about Meagan.”
“What makes you think this has anything to do with Meagan? The note wasn’t addressed to anyone.”
“Just a wild guess.” He cast a glance at Meagan. She obviously hadn’t said anything to Darci about her early-morning discovery. “And the fact that someone painted murderer on the side of her house this morning.”
Now it was Darci’s turn to gasp. “Why?”
“That’s what I’m hoping she’ll tell us, especially since this someone is making some pretty serious threats.”
Meagan squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. “I don’t know who’s doing this. I’ve never killed anybody.” Some of the color was returning to her face, and her voice held some strength now. There was also a flash of defiance in her eyes that hadn’t been there a few moments ago. “Someone is targeting the wrong person.”
Hunter studied her. She seemed to be telling the truth, but he couldn’t say for sure. People who were good at lying could do it without flinching. His twin brother was a prime example. He had lied all his life, at least since he was old enough to talk. He lied even when it was easier to tell the truth.
Maybe Meagan didn’t kill anyone. But there was a whole lot that she wasn’t telling them. Now that someone was threatening her life, he needed to learn the details of her past and what had brought her to Cedar Key. But Meagan wasn’t talking.
She glanced at the sailboat clock hanging behind the counter. “I’ve got five more minutes, so I’ll finish what I was working on when the phone rang, then head out.”
“I need to do a police report.” He looked down at the page he still held. “And I’ll take this in as evidence.” Unfortunately, any prints were likely destroyed. But he would give it a shot.
By the time he had asked Meagan a few questions, her shift was over. Worry tightened his chest at the thought of her riding home alone. “Let me take you. Your bike should fit in the trunk.” It might not close, but her house was only a few blocks away.
“That’s okay. At two o’clock in the afternoon, no one is likely to bother me.”
He nodded and bade the two women farewell. Meagan wouldn’t let him take her home. But she couldn’t stop him from following at a distance. After making a large circle of a couple blocks, he rounded the corner onto Second Street as Meagan walked from the store. With her back to him, she got on her bike and began to pedal down the street. Once he saw her safely home, he would go back and talk to Darci.
When he stepped into the store ten minutes later, two customers were leaving. Darci looked at him with raised brows.
“You’re back.”
A quick glance around told him they were alone. Hopefully, it would stay that way, at least for a few minutes. “Yeah. I need to talk to you about Meagan. What do you know about her?” He and Darci had been friends long enough that he didn’t have to waste time with small talk.
“Well, she said she moved from a little town in Indiana. I can’t even remember the name of it now. She doesn’t talk about her prior life much. In fact, she doesn’t talk about it at all.”
“Don’t you find that odd? I mean, you’ve worked together for what, five weeks now? Six?”
“Coming up on six.”
“When women spend that much time together, don’t they usually share stories and stuff?”
Darci rested her hand on a pack of Post-It notes and slid her thumb up the edge, fanning through them. “Not necessarily.”
“Okay, how much does she know about you?”
“That’s different. I’m a really open person.” She grinned at him. “And I talk a lot.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
“You don’t have to agree so readily.” She threw the Post-Its at him.
He caught them in midair and laid them back on the counter. “Seriously, how much do you know about her, other than that she came from a small town in Indiana?”
“She has a sister.”
“Older? Younger?”
“Younger.”
“Parents?”
“Mom. She never mentioned a father. But she doesn’t have contact anymore with her mom or sister.”
“Why not?”
“I