Fearless

by Marlie May

  Cooper chuckled. “You sure scared them.”

  “For all of twenty minutes. I picked berries today but those beasts’ll clean me out of the rest if I let them.”

  He came over to stand with me, moving his feet on the wooden decking in a way I couldn’t miss. I doubted the turkeys would miss him coming. I cringed, realizing I’d brought this between us. No, my fear had brought this between us.

  “Did you mention strawberries?” The glint in his eyes banished my irritation somewhat.

  My pulse fluttered in my throat, and my breathing stalled. “For later.”

  “Squirt whipped cream, too?”

  “Yes.” The word lasted twice as long as it needed to. Was he thinking what I was thinking?

  “Why don’t you get them, and we can share dessert.”

  Anticipation pooled in my belly.

  I wasn’t gone more than a minute but when I returned to the deck, he sat on the deck, reclining on a mound of pillows.

  Cooper Talon wore buck-naked well.

  He patted a place beside him. “I think berries with whipped cream is about to become my favorite dish outside of lumpy pasta.”

  The next morning, I encouraged him to join me in the shower. After, we enjoyed breakfast on the deck, laughing about the sticky spots on the boards. I would hose the wood later, but for now, I cupped the memories those spots contained and pressed them like summer flowers inside my heart.

  Cooper’s face grew serious. “I went by Mr. Joe’s yesterday. Questioned him about your drink.”

  “What did you find out?”

  His finger circled around the rim of his coffee cup. “Joe was upset.”

  “He’s a nice guy. And he didn’t make my drink.”

  “You remember that, huh?”

  “A different guy made it. His back faced me, and I couldn’t see who he was.”

  “The man’s name was Tom. Lots of Toms around, but this feels beyond a coincidence.”

  I shook my head. “Tom Prescott made my drink?” The man had looked familiar, but the scruffy beard and back made it hard to identify him. Rising, I stomped across the deck. “That asshole drugged me.” I halted and held up my hand. “Hold on a sec.”

  I ran inside and retrieved the bottle of Xanax from the bathroom closet. Pills clicked as I strode back to Cooper. I sat and shook the bottle then placed it on the table between us. “This is the Xanax my doctor prescribed me. Nine pills left because I only took one.” I flapped my hand at the bottle. “Go ahead and open it. Count them.”

  “Don’t need to.” His quiet reassurance slowed my racing pulse, but the certainty in his eyes squeezed my heart. That he believed me meant everything.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Why do you think Tom did it?”

  Cooper shrugged. “Who can say? Revenge, probably. Or maybe he hoped to follow and take advantage of you.”

  “Instead, he almost ran me down.” I snaked my arms across my chest and shivered. “Why won’t the sheriff believe me and do something about this?”

  “I called him, let him know what I discovered.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he’d question Tom, get back to me.” Leaning back, he snorted. “Then he chastised me for doing my own investigation.”

  “If he’d do his job, you wouldn’t have to do it for him.”

  Cooper rose and pulled me up from my chair. With his arms wrapped around me, all was right in the world. What was I going to do once he was gone? Not just about Tom—although I was determined to keep him from taking advantage of me again. But losing Cooper would be worse than anything that had happened to me over the past week.

  He eased back in my embrace and kissed me. “I wish I could stay with you all day, but I’ve got lots to do, starting with Dad’s basement. I want to get it done so I can come back to you this afternoon.”

  If only he could come back to me every day. But that daydream was as real as unicorns. I clutched the front of his tee, the only tangible thing I could hold onto. “I can still help at your dad’s place if you want.”

  “You have your own work here. I’ll be back with the croquet set later.” I followed him to the front door where he paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Let me make dinner tonight?”

  That should be interesting. “As long as it’s not red hot dogs.”

  He turned and leaned against the door, splaying his arms wide. “Hey. I’m a decent cook.”

  I couldn’t resist taking the space between his arms. Like I’d planned, he wrapped me up and pulled me near. Kissed me.

  “Far be it for me to suggest a man not show off his cooking skills,” I said.

  “I think you’ll be pleased.”

  “I’m already pleased.”

  “Then my job here is done.”

  Eli parked in my drive as Cooper backed out in his rental. The two men spoke before Cooper continued toward town. Eli stared after his friend then climbed the stairs and came inside. I engaged my new security system behind him, smiling at how confident I felt now that it was installed.

  “Good to see you,” I said.

  “Wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay after yesterday.”

  After filling two cups with coffee and adding a splash of milk, I lowered them onto the kitchen island and we sat.

  He sipped his coffee but then plunked the mug on the tile hard enough the creamy brew slopped over the lip. If he kept after his hair with his fingers that way, he’d have knots. “I really don’t like thinking about you and Coop doing…”

  “Jeez, Eli. I’m not thirteen.” A la Scarlett O’Hara, I slapped my palm to my chest. “You do know I’m not saving myself for marriage.” My eyes flashed fire at him. “I know you didn’t come over here to defend my non-existent virginity.”

  His groan filled the room.

  Payback was sweet. Sometimes, I just had to wait for it. He was lucky I didn’t remind him of that time he’d snuck his high school girlfriend into his bedroom after Mom went to bed.

  “I came over here because you’re female,” he said.

  “I think we already established that.”

  “I need advice.”

  “Mia.”

  His coffee mug received all of his attention. “Yeah, Mia.” He breathed her name.

  I couldn’t even handle my own love life. How he thought I could help with his was beyond me.

  “I thought you were going to look her up,” I prompted.

  “I plan to. Sometime.”

  My sigh bled out. “If she’s here in town, I don’t know why you’re here with me, moaning and groaning about her.”

  Shoulders couldn’t cave more than my poor brother’s. “What if I ask her out again and she turns me down?”

  “Then you’ll know to move on.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ve got it bad,” I said.

  “From the moment I met her.”

  “You might get somewhere if you took this beyond thinking.” I just wanted to see Eli happy. If Mia could do that for him, I’d welcome her with open arms. “Call her.”

  “Don’t have her number.”

  “Then get it from Flint.”

  “She’s his sister!”

  “I’m yours and I’m seeing Cooper.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  I lifted my eyebrows because he very well knew it was.

  “I spoke with Flint. We’re meeting up next week to talk about a job. He’d be my boss.”

  “You think that’ll make Mia off-limits?”

  “It could get sticky.”

  “Hardly matters if you don’t get to the point of asking her out.”

  He lifted his coffee and took a long gulp. “That’s why I’m here. Because I thought you’d know what I should do.”

  No way would I give him the keys to the woman castle.

  “You think I should send her flowers?” he asked as he ruffled his hair some more.

  “That would be a nice start. But…” I frowned, rememb
ering the roses Tom sent, how they’d creeped me out. “Keep it simple. Don’t come on too strong.”

  He stiffened as if I’d offended him. “I’m more than prepared to back off if she tells me to get lost. I just saw her being in town…”

  “As a chance,” I finished for him.

  “Exactly.” His lips quirked up on one side. “But I think she’ll like flowers. A guy knows these things.”

  Heaven help womankind.

  “Then go for it. Do it today.”

  “Today?” He reeled back in his chair. “So soon?”

  “Jeez, Eli, it’s been half a year. If you’re lucky, she still remembers your name.”

  “Hell, do you think she’s forgotten me?” He sounded horrified at the thought.

  I sighed. If Mia was anything like me with Cooper, my brother was still foremost in her mind. “Sometimes, women do like a man to pursue them. You’ll have to read the signs when you talk with her. Watch for…Oh, I don’t know. Fluttering eyelashes, color in her cheeks, the way she holds her body. If she’s leaning toward you or fully facing you, especially if her voice is breathy, you’ll know she’s interested.” Curse me, but I was giving him the keys to the woman castle.

  Sorry, womenkind.

  “I could send her flowers,” he said, perking up. “Once I, uh, find out where she is. I could ask Flint. Sound him out. If he hints I need to back off, I’ll respect that.”

  “At this point, things can’t get worse, can they?”

  “Actually, they could.” He slumped in his seat. Poor Eli. His heart scraped across the floor. “Before I do anything, though, I’ve got to drive to Allagash.”

  I blinked. “That’s six-hours from here, isn’t it? What do you have to do up there?”

  “My old high school friend, Jefferson, called. I’ve been meaning to look him up now that I’m back in Crescent Cove. He asked if I could give him a ride. Said he was sorry, but he’d already asked everyone he could think of already. His mom’s in the hospital in Portland. He lost his job a few months ago, and his vehicle isn’t registered. I’ll go up, spend the night, and we’ll head out first thing in the morning. At least I’m off work until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Downstairs, my bell rang.

  “That’s a client.” A reunion family had arrived. I stood and took our empty coffee cups to the sink. “I’ve got to go.”

  “So do I. It’ll take me a while to get to Allagash.”

  “It’s nice of you to do that for your friend on your one day off.” Especially a friend he hadn’t seen in a long time. I walked with Eli to the door and gave him a hug.

  “We go way back. He’d do the same for me.”

  There was no favor Eli wouldn’t give if someone asked. I swung open the door, and he stepped out onto the deck. “Let me know how the flower venture goes with Mia.”

  “I will.” He paused in the doorway and turned back to smile. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

  24

  Cooper

  A short distance down the road from Ginny’s, I parked in the breakdown lane and pulled out my phone. Tom Prescott’s address came up on my screen after a brief search. I put my car into gear and followed the GPS directions.

  On the opposite side of the road from Tom’s residence, I shut off the engine. I studied the light green ranch house, watching for movement. No car parked in the driveway, but it could be inside the garage.

  My pulse spiked, and my clenched fists ground against my thighs. It was past time to get this situation settled.

  Since none of Tom’s neighbors appeared to be around—hopefully all at work—I got out and strode across the road like I belonged here. A quick scan told me no one peeked around curtains or stood on their porches staring my way. While I could get arrested for trespassing, I couldn’t help it. This had to be done.

  Heart galloping along with the danger riding inside me, I slid between the hedge on the side of Tom’s property and his garage. On the other side of the vegetation, a dog barked wildly. Hopefully, the neighbor wasn’t into pit bulls.

  I paused by the garage’s side window and squinted through the dusty glass panes. Empty inside except for a lawnmower and a bunch of junk. No Tom, no car.

  At the back of the house, I darted along the crushed stones placed to catch runoff from the roof. I paused at a window to glance in. No lights on, and not a soul in the entryway connecting the house to the garage.

  Tom was either somewhere else in the house or he was away. Out seeking another opportunity to get at Ginny? Not if I had anything to say about it. Frustration grew inside me, displacing the tingling unease I’d felt while snooping. If I ran into Tom right now, I’d drop him to the ground and call the police.

  After donning thin gloves, I tested the door leading out onto a small back deck. Locked but that was okay. I scanned the fenced-in backyard again to make sure no one was looking my way before I dropped down to my heels and grunted with satisfaction. Tom might be a former cop, but he didn’t watch out for his assets. Even a toddler could pick a pin tumbler lock like this in under a minute.

  I pulled my small set of tools from my pocket and began with the tension wrench. Then added a pick. In no time, a click sounded. Standing, I stuffed my tools back into my pocket. I turned the knob and slowly creaked the door open, peering inside to find the kitchen empty.

  The stained linoleum squeaked under my feet as I carefully shut the door and locked it.

  I took in the spotless kitchen. With no evidence around—dirty dishes, for example—it was hard to tell when Tom had been here last.

  Taking a deep breath, I strode to a door on the right wall and opened it. A dank, musty smell hit my sinuses. The basement. I crept down the wooden stairs. At the bottom, my sneakers hit a dirt-floor. Likely built over a hundred years ago, the foundation had been constructed with granite slabs and mortar. A thready trickle of water bled down one wall and sank into the soil at the bottom. I skirted the staircase but other than the furnace, a water heater, and a jumble of sealed boxes stacked on wooden pallets, the room was empty.

  I returned back upstairs and listened a moment before striding into the small dining area. Papers lay in tidy piles on the table but I didn’t stop to scan them, moving instead through the open archway, where I found a living area spanning the building from front to back. Black shades had been pulled down tight as if Tom was a freakin’ vampire. Older couch, recliner, and a standard TV. Nearly empty bookcase. Beyond the living room, I entered a hall. I snuck along the carpet, keeping my footsteps light. My pulse drummed in my throat because this could be it. Four closed doors lay ahead, and Tom could be hiding behind any one of them.

  The first opened into a bathroom. Nobody inside. Two doors on the left led to a study and a bedroom. Each had nearly-empty closets. Only one door left in the hall. Was Tom inside this room, or would my search be a complete waste of time?

  Sweat trickled down my spine, and my hands grew slick. Anticipation and caution waged a war inside me. If I closed my eyes, I could picture myself back overseas evading hostiles with my weapon drawn, my buddies at my back.

  Back plastered against the wall, I carefully turned the doorknob. My mouth flashed dry as I thrust open the door and tumbled into the room, coming up on one knee, poised to dive to the side if Tom shot.

  No Tom. Rising, I approached the closet and yanked the door open.

  Nothing except carefully pressed shirts and pants draped over hangers.

  Was there an attic?

  Back in the hall, I found the hatch and pulled the rope, dropping a narrow set of stairs leading to a low-ceilinged room containing cloth-draped furniture and sealed cardboard boxes stacked in a neat row.

  Except on one end.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, the word echoing around me. Pay dirt. Not Tom but as far as creep factor went, this shot everything else through the roof.

  I approached the freakin’ shrine. Pictures of a woman who looked very much like Ginny. Multiple candles, some burned to the nub. A plastic bag
with a lock of golden hair tied with a pink ribbon. And a photo album filled with newspaper articles chronicling every event from a woman’s life since she was a child.

  I studied the photos. Laura and Ginny could be twins. In the pile, I found wedding pictures featuring Laura and Tom, plus a series of candid shots of her posing in various locations, most recognizable as tourist spots in Maine.

  Clipped newspaper articles crackled as I sorted through them. Laura had gone missing a year ago. The police had questioned Tom, but his alibi appeared solid. The most recent article, dated three months ago, indicated they’d questioned Tom again and told him the case was still under investigation.

  A brand-new photo album lay in the center of the display, and I flipped back the cover. I grimaced at an enlargement of Ginny’s face. She sat in a beach chair at the campground, reading a book. Other photos showed her puttering around at our campsite, swimming, walking toward the central bathroom buildings. One had been taken when we’d stopped for coffee at Mr. Joe’s.

  Tom had been watching us, spying on us. This was fucking wrong.

  I needed to end it. It was all I could do to beat back the urge to gather everything up and stuff it inside a garbage bag. Throw it in a dumpster. But this was evidence.

  I returned to the ground floor and made sure everything looked as it had before. Outside, on the deck, I locked the house again. I returned to my Jeep and told myself to cool off and get control of my anger. Fury was making me shake. I clenched my steering wheel and stared at the house. If I could, I’d burn it to the ground, but that would not deliver the justice Tom deserved.

  One thing was clear. Only when Tom was locked up forever would Ginny be safe.

  I called the sheriff. “I’m checking in on your investigation into Tom,” I said.

  “Spoke with him. He denies everything.”

  “Of course, he does. Do you think he’d—”

  “He’s in Massachusetts, visiting his dad. Hasn’t been around for days.”

  It was only a few hours’ drive from Crescent Cove to Massachusetts, and family made the best alibi because many were willing to lie. “I think you should search his place.”