Free Swept Away: A Squeaky Clean Honeymoon Novella (Squeaky Clean Mysteries Book 12) by Christy Barritt

matter?” I questioned. “That seems like too much of a coincidence.”
    “I’m in between homes right now, so sometimes I sleep on the boat. Plus, I may or may not have been dangling the keys in front of the women when I was bragging.”
    Joey had said the boat pulled up to the shore on the night Vivian was abducted. The water wasn’t that deep out there, not enough for a large boat to come ashore without hitting the bottom. “I thought your dad’s boat was small.”
    Homer shrugged. “A place to sleep is a place to sleep. People don’t bother me out there on the water.”
    “What happened next?” Riley asked.
    “I went down to the marina the next day, and, to my surprise, the boat was there—with the keys even.” Homer ran a hand over his face. “But there was also blood.”
    “What do you mean, there was blood?” I asked. That was one fact I hadn’t heard yet. That was one fact Old Yeller hadn’t mentioned.
    “It was on the side of the boat, like maybe someone had fallen overboard and hit their head on the way down. I don’t know. But I didn’t like it. I panicked. I hopped on board and rode it over to Caladesi with the intention of cleaning it up. But then I saw the police, so I ditched it and caught a ride on the ferry back to the shore. I saw the shoe on the boat and grabbed it before running.”
    “Why would you do that?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
    “Cause I don’t want to go to jail, and it seemed like easy evidence to get rid of.”
    “But there were two sandals,” I said. “Why did you leave one?”
    He shrugged again. “I didn’t see the other one. I wasn’t sticking around long enough to look either.”
    “Why come back here?” I questioned, trying to put everything together. I had a feeling Homer had been acting while in a drug and alcohol induced haze, which meant that all of his actions didn’t necessarily have to be logical to the common person. Drugs and alcohol could seriously limit the good decisions people made. Add stress and panic to that, and it was the recipe for disaster.
    “I wasn’t . . . what’s the word?” he said.
    “Thinking?” I filled in.
    “Yeah, that’s it.” He snapped his fingers. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I came back here to leave the keys. That way if my dad asked if I had anything to do with this, I could tell him no. I was going to take the shoe with me and throw it into the ocean, but then I heard you guys downstairs. I dropped it and ran.”
    “Your were wearing a mask, though,” Riley said.
    He shrugged in a “duh” like motion. “I didn’t want anyone to see me. Of course.”
    I was done questioning his logic—he had none. Instead, I moved to my next inquiry. “Tell us about the men who took your keys.”
    He looked beyond me a moment, as if trying to recall anything about them. “They reminded me of spoiled frat boys, you know? They acted like they had money. They were wearing fancy clothes and jewelry and carrying big guns.”
    It sounded like the guys who’d cruised into town a few days ago and tried to rent a boat from Larry’s friend. Had they given up on doing that and decided simply to use other people’s boats without their permission in the meantime?
    Homer looked back and forth from Riley to me. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
    “Shoot you?” I squealed. “Not unless you do something stupid. I mean, stupider than you’ve already done. But I have to call the police, Homer. A woman’s life is on the line here. You have to tell them what you just told us.”
    He frowned. “Fine. But please don’t tell my dad.”

    * * *
    I almost hated to see the police and Homer leave because I knew that meant that Riley and I might launch into the first fight of our married life together.
    I dreaded that.
    I dreaded disappointing him—mostly just because I loved him so much that I wanted to see him happy.
    Riley’s arms were crossed as he turned toward me. We stood in the living