BooksBarbecue
Back Sunset Beach Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. Epilogue
  71. Also by Mary Kay Andrews
  72. About the Author
  73. Newsletter Sign-up

“Did you know Jazmin?”

“Not that well,” Lutrisha said. She paused. “I was the one who found her body.”

“Ohhh. Right.” That was why her name had struck a chord, Drue thought. “But I thought you left and took a job someplace else. Publix?”

“How do you know so much?” Lustrisha asked.

“I work for the law firm that Jazmin’s mother hired after she was killed,” Drue said. “I think you talked to our investigator not long after it happened.”

“I can’t talk to you,” Lutrisha said, glancing around. “I gotta get back to work.”

“What time do you get off?”

“Not for another hour.”

“Could I meet you somewhere, so we could talk? I just live a few blocks away.”

“I can’t get involved,” the girl said. “I’m sorry for her kid and all, but this has got nothing to do with me.” She started to push the cart away, but Drue stayed right beside her.

“You know, they still haven’t caught Jazmin’s killer.”

“Yeah, so I heard.”

“Did you know that Jazmin’s mother is raising her daughter? Yvonne only got a settlement of one hundred thirty-five thousand dollars, because the hotel claimed Jazmin was working when she was killed. And all the money is tied up in a trust for Aliyah, so it can’t be touched ’til she’s eighteen.”

The girl stopped in front of the laundry room doors, fumbling for her key card, which she wore on a cord around her wrist. “That’s all?” She looked shocked.

“Aliyah has severe asthma,” Drue said, unabashedly laying it on thick. “Her medical bills are horrendous.”

Lutrisha had the key card poised to swipe. She sighed. “Where do you want to meet? I can’t take long. I been working all day and I’m beat.”

“How about that coffee shop on Gulf Boulevard? Right next to the Thunderbird?” Drue asked. “At eight-thirty?”

The girl nodded. “I’ll be there.”

22

Lutrisha Smallwood’s name was a cruel joke. She was tall and bean-pole thin, with light blue eyes that narrowed as she blew a plume of vapor from her e-cigarette. She’d been leaning up against the outside of the coffee shop, vaping, when Drue pedaled up on the beach bike she’d bought on Craigslist.

The girl smiled crookedly as Drue approached. “Did you get your license yanked for too many DUIs?”

“No. My car’s out of commission.” Drue gestured toward the coffee shop. “Do you want to go in and talk?”

“Waiting on you,” Lutrisha said, following her inside.