Page 34 of Just Beachy

“His name is Brian.” As I say this, I realize that I don’t remember his last name and have no idea which building he lives in, let alone his unit number.

“Seriously, Sydney?”

“She’s a grown woman,” I point out as calmly as I can. “And I haven’t wanted to pry.”

I get a huff of irritation and another look of disbelief.

“But I do know there’s an owners’ directory,” I say. “Which means I can look him up.” I wince. “Assuming I can find the directoryandremember the first letter of his last name.”

Luke rolls his eyes at me. Which, I’d like to point out, is highly unprofessional even if he is technically “off duty.”

For several long seconds I’m completely stymied. Then relief floods through me. “But I can call her friend Myra. She’s lived here forever and knows everything about everyone.”

I call Myra and hold my phone to my ear as she sputters awake. “What? How? Are you? What’s going on?”

“I need to know Brian’s last name and his building and unit number.”

“Boyer,” she answers without hesitation. “Building six, that’s three buildings to the left of your grandmother’s, two past mine. Number 520. Corner unit.”

“You have everyone’s addresses memorized?”

“Of course not. Just close friends. And the attractive single men. Do you want me to meet you there?”

“No, thanks. Luke, um, Detective Hayes is here. There was another break-in at Grand’s. We’re going to go to Brian’s and double-check that she’s okay.”

“But why wouldn’t she—”

Luke takes my phone, ends the call, and drops it in his pocket.

“Come on!” He takes my hand, and we speed-walk to Brian Boyer’s, where Luke pounds on the front door. “Police! Open up!”

The light comes on in Boyer’s foyer. As do those in the unit next to his. “Who’s there?” a male voice, presumably Brian Boyer’s, shouts through his front door.

“Detective Luke Hayes and Lillian’s granddaughter, Sydney. We need to see Lillian. Right now.”

Boyer opens the door. He’s wearing pajama bottoms, but his chest is bare. And solid. And tan. With a dusting of white hair. Which is way more attractive than one would expect.

“Where’s Grand?” I ask.

“She’s upstairs. Sleeping. Or at least she was.” His eyes get kind of steely. “What’s the problem?”

“We need to see her.” Luke steps into the foyer, forcing the silver fox back toward the stairs that lead up to the main floor.

“You have no reason to intrude in this way.”

“In fact, we do,” Luke replies. “There was another break-in at Lillian’s home. Is that anything you would know about?”

“Of course not!” The irritation is still there but now it’s laced with a certain wariness.

“Is everything all right down there?” Grand’s voice floats down from the top of the stairs. “I’ve got a gun!”

“I sincerely hope that’s not true,” Luke says to Brian and me.

“She does not own a gun,” I say. Careful not to add the“that I know of”that flashes through my mind.

“May we go upstairs and see Lillian now, Mr. Boyer?” Luke asks, though we all know it’s not really a question. “We need to speak with her.Now.”

Boyer steps out of the way and waves a hand toward the stairs in an “after you” gesture that feels distinctly unwelcoming.

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