Chapter One
It’s been three days since my best friend Will Cunningham kissed me, then turned right around and lied to my face. Three days and I haven’t said squat to anyone. Not about the lie. And most certainly not about the kiss. I’m ready to explode. Worse, I’m ready to confess everything to my older brother, Sebastian, who, luckily, or unluckily, happens to be a Catholic priest.
I drive to the office at St. Perpetua’s, where my brother is pastor. Paco, that’s my little rescue dog, and I walk through the door where I’m greeted by Shirley Dombrowski, the church secretary. “Hi, Lucy.” She stops typing and bends over to scratch Paco behind the ears. He shows his appreciation by wagging his tail. “Aren’t you the cutest?” she coos.
Paco looks back at me as if to say, Doesn’t Shirley have good taste?
Paco is a tan-colored chihuahua terrier mix with a talent for discovering dead people. Before he came to live with me, his name was Cornelius. His former owner set up a Facebook page for him, and he has, like, a gazillion followers, so he’s kind of famous among the woo-woo crowd. The Sunshine Ghost Society, a local group that claims to commune with the dead, has been after me to allow Paco to participate in a séance. I told them I’d think about it.
Which means no.
I know it’s selfish of me, but I can’t help it. What if something happens to him during the séance? Some rogue ghost could decide to take over his body, which sounds dramatic, but you never know.
“I don’t think Father McGuffin is expecting you,” says Shirley.
“No worries. I’ll just be a minute.” I go to walk past her, but Shirley jumps up from her chair and blocks me like she’s trying out for a position in the NFL. Pretty impressive considering she had a hip replacement a few months ago. Shirley is in her late sixties and has been widowed for a few years now. She’s worked at St. Perpetua’s since before I was born and is fiercely loyal to my brother. I thought by now she’d be retired, but Sebastian confided to me once that her late husband left her with a mountain of debt.
“I’m sorry, Lucy, but Father McGuffin left strict instructions that he wasn’t to be disturbed. He’s working on his Sunday sermon.” A sheen of sweat forms on her upper lip. Shirley is either nervous or she’s lying.
It just so happens that’s it both.
Pretty much anyone would be able to tell that Shirley is nervous. Her demeanor and that glistening upper lip are a sure tell. But the lie about my brother working on his sermon? For the most part, she should have gotten away with it. But I’m not like everyone else. I’m a human lie detector, something that just my family and a handful of friends know about me.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been able to tell if someone is lying. Call it a gift. Call it a curse. It all depends on your point of view. Lately, it’s been more gift than curse because my ability to sniff out deception has helped me solve a few murders around town.
The fact that Shirley is lying about my brother working on his sermon has me more than curious. It seems like such a silly thing to lie about. I absolutely have to know what he’s doing.
“Since this is Wednesday, he still has plenty of time,” I tell Shirley as Paco and I wiggle past her. Before she can stop me, I fling open the door to my brother’s office.
Sebastian looks up from his computer screen and frowns. “Lucy, what are you doing here? Did we have a lunch date?”
Shirley begins sputtering about how she tried to stop me, but my brother puts up a hand to silence her. “No worries,” he says, smiling kindly.
She tosses me a disgruntled look before going back to the reception area.
“Don’t blame Shirley. She nearly sacrificed her new hip in an attempt to keep me out of here.” I flop down on the chair across from the big oak desk where my brother appears to be hard at work. Sebastian is five years older than me, and everyone who’s ever seen us together automatically knows that we’re brother and sister. We have the same dark, unruly hair, same brown eyes, and same fair skin with freckles. The only difference is I wear glasses and am six inches shorter than him.
Today, he’s dressed casually in dark pants and a white shirt and, most importantly, he’s minus his collar, which evens out the playing field between us a little. Sure, he’s a priest, but right now, I need him to be my older brother.
“Will lied to me,” I say. Will Cunningham has been Sebastian’s best friend since grade school. When Sebastian went away to the seminary to become a priest, Will slid into my friend zone, except I’ve been in love with him ever since I was seven. First, he was my brother’s best friend, then he became my secret crush, then he became my best friend too.
Sebastian snaps shut his laptop screen. “Oh?” That one simple word reeks of collusion. Sebastian clears his throat in what’s clearly a stall tactic. “What did he lie about?”
“I asked Will if he was J.W. Quicksilver.”
J.W. Quicksilver is the pen name of a wildly popular author of thriller espionage novels. Everyone in Whispering Bay is crazy about his books, including Betty Jean Collins, the town’s bigmouth. Betty Jean runs a weekly book club meeting at her home, and she’s going around town bragging to anyone who will listen that she’s nabbed J.W. Quicksilver as a guest for her book club meeting tomorrow night.