Chapter One
The insanity didn’t officially begin for another twenty-four hours, but Police Chief Clancy Flynn knew the tourists didn’t give a damn about the particulars. The half-dressed throng was already in full-on party mode. There was no avoiding it. This was Bayberry Island on the third Friday of August, and that meant that tomorrow would kick off the annual Mermaid Festival, the Mardi Gras of New England.
For Clancy, it was going to be the longest week of the year.
“Excuse me, Officer.”
And here we go. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“Ooooh, aren’t you adorable? I love your little navy blue shorts! Why don’t more policemen wear shorts? You have such nice legs from all that walking and frisking you have to do.” She wagged an eyebrow. “You can call me Florence.”
Clancy glanced down at the bejeweled and age-spotted hand now stroking his bare forearm. After four years as a Boston cop and thirty-two Mermaid Festivals—one for each year of his life—nothing along the spectrum of human behavior shocked him anymore. Not even Florence was particularly disturbing, even with her bottle red hair, neon cat’s-eye sunglasses, sequined jumpsuit, and the fairy wings glued to the back of her sneakers.
“Sure, Florence. What can I do for you?”
“We were just wondering where the fountain is. You know, the mermaid statue. The legend. You see”—she gazed over the tops of her cat’s-eye shades and fluttered her fake lashes—“we’re here to find luuuuuuv.” Florence and her entourage of similarly dressed older women giggled and hooted. “So do you know where she is?”
Yeah. He knew. Clancy was a Flynn, and his family would be forever linked to the bronze bimbo in Fountain Square, no matter how much he wished it weren’t so.
“Of course, ladies.” Clancy pointed down Main Street. “Two blocks that way is Fountain Square. You can’t miss it.”
Florence popped up on her tippy toes to look down the street and lost her balance, falling against Clancy. He returned her to an upright position.
“Where did you say it was, Officer?”
Clancy closed his eyes for an instant, imagining his happy place, that sweet spot of September, when the weather was still delightful and the pace of life returned to near normal. He smiled politely at the women. “Two blocks thataway. You’ll see a big mermaid fountain right smack in the middle of the square, water spraying all over the place. The area is surrounded by banners and balloons. And lots of people. Plus, there’s a real big sign.”
Florence patted Clancy’s chest with the flat of her palm. “You know, hearing you put it like that I feel kinda silly. Would you like to come with us?”
“Thank you, but I’ll have to pass.”
Florence shrugged. “Let’s go, girls!” And off they went.
As Clancy watched the ladies walk arm in arm down the crowded street, he wondered what all these tourists would think if they knew the truth—that for nearly two decades, Police Chief Clancy Flynn hadn’t been within twenty feet of the mermaid, which took some effort, since she was the island’s only claim to fame, the engine of its entire economy, and the reason he had a twice-monthly paycheck. But his peace of mind was worth it.
Clancy’s police radio crackled to life. It was Chip, his second-in-command.
“Flynn, here.”
“Chief, we got about a dozen juveniles swimming past the rocks off Moondance Beach, a possible 10-51. Deon and I are taking the boat out. Over.”
“Copy,” Clancy said. “Any injuries?”