Missing You

by Shereen Vedam

  He strode toward her now, climbed the back steps, and only stopped once they were toe-to-toe. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re not the one who needs to apologize,” she said.

  “Janet’s gone home. About what happened tonight, we’re having a bit of difficulty, and she blames you.”

  “Sounded like she blamed my mother.”

  He didn’t want to talk about Brenda Clay or Janet. He wanted to know why this woman leaving him was so upsetting. He knew nothing about Phoebe. She was as flighty as a willow-o-the-wisp. “Do you like your life?”

  She blinked as if to take in the abrupt change in topic.

  “I ask,” he said, “because you don’t seem happy here.”

  “What makes you say that, counsellor?”

  He smiled, his tension slipping away at her lighter tone. Such a beautiful woman and she had a sense of humor, too. He held up a hand to list. “Since you’ve returned, you’ve broken into my grandfather’s house, been thrown into jail, are having a never-ending quarrel with your mother, and now you’re hiding out at the back of a café.”

  “You think that’s any different from my normal life?” Phoebe’s smile curved her lips up.

  His attention dropped to there. Her lips were full and moist, begging to be kissed. “Are you ever lonely?”

  “Are you?” she countered.

  His gaze snapped back. “Yes.”

  His answer surprised him. Yes, he was lonely. Tucker wasn’t sentimental and he’d moved Morgan from base to base through most of his teen years, tearing apart friendships. The Clays were the first true friends he’d made and kept.

  “Why haven’t you married Janet, then?” she asked.

  He gently brushed her cheek. Because she’s not you.

  She shivered and a thrill of pleasure shot up that his simple touch could affect her. “Do you have a lover, Phoebe?”

  “Not at the moment,” she whispered.

  She smelled of roses and magnolia. He leaned away before temptation took him past his boundaries. He needed to sort out what to do about Janet. He owed her that. She’d been a good friend. “I have to go. Remember your court appearance tomorrow. You should go in. It’s not safe to be out here alone, even in Harrington Bay.”

  “Fear can be your greatest ally,” she replied, not budging. “You shouldn’t run from it.”

  He left, her odd words echoing in his head. What an intriguing woman. Scaling down the steps, he headed to his truck. Once he was strapped in, instead of heading home, he stared out the windshield. Traffic was leaving the mall. Soon, the dark street emptied of cars and pedestrians. If he sat here much longer, Phoebe and Lenny would close up and come out.

  His cell phone rang. Janet. He resisted the urge to shut off the ringer. Too callous. His grandfather wouldn’t approve.

  “Yes.”

  “Morgan.” Her voice was anxious. “Where are you?”

  “I’m about to head home. Tucker and I are riding early tomorrow and I need to prep our gear.”

  She was silent. Then she asked, “Are you with her?”

  “I apologized on your behalf,” he said.

  “It took you this long to say, ‘I’m Sorry’?”

  “We can discuss this later.”

  “What are you doing, Morgan?” Her voice broke.

  “Good night, Janet.”

  FROM THE WINDOW, PHOEBE observed Morgan drive away. To Janet’s place? He’d thought about it long enough, sitting in his truck, staring into the quiet night. For some reason, the image of him touching the detective as he’d caressed her cheek churned her stomach.

  She leaned her forehead against the cool window. What was she doing? She’d come home to help her aunt, as it turned out, to find a missing cat. Heart wrenching, yes. A dangerous crisis, no. Now, instead of rushing back to Sri Lanka, she lingered in Hb, mooning over a stay-at-home lawyer who was afraid of his feelings.

  Cashing up, Lenny asked, “What’re you going to do?”

  What she wanted to do was to seduce Morgan. Yet, he’d picked Janet. As for the detective, she had her “police line, do not cross” tape wrapped tight around him.

  Phoebe circled the tables, giving them a wipe with a cleaning rag. If she stayed, she was bound to meet them as a couple. Encountering them today had almost given her an ulcer. She could leave. One call to Conroy, and she could be on a plane tonight. Tomorrow would see her back at work in Sri Lanka.

  She paused behind the chair where Morgan had sat, running her palms along the smooth grain of wood. Remembering the malice in Janet’s eyes, she swung the chair up onto the table, seat down.

  If she left, her mother, Aunt Helen, and Lenny would have to deal with Janet alone. When Johnny died, she’d run away because it hurt so much. His death had been hard on Lenny, too, and her leaving had devastated her family. She could no longer deny that. She glanced at Lenny now staring out the window, money bag in hand. His shoulders were drooped and his head hung low. He expected her to bail.

  Sensing her regard, Lenny turned. “You’ve decided.”

  She nodded. The course of action she contemplated would cause Morgan Harrington a great deal of unease, anger Conroy, who only believed she was home for a quick stop to deal with a family crisis, and likely send her mother into apoplexy. She also had to finish deciphering the piece of paper tucked into her boot heel.

  She was confident she could finish that work within a day. The parts she’d translated so far suggested it was nothing more than a long-lost love letter, which gave her comfort that she’d done the right thing in keeping it a secret. Considering her informant’s certainty that a terrorist cell occupied that house, the authorities might have come down hard on that innocent Tamil family before they realized what the letter was all about.

  In fact, the heartwarming sentiments expressed in that note had been from a woman to the man she loved. Her eloquent words now prompted Phoebe to say, “I’ve decided to stay.”

  “Forever?” Shock spiked his tone.

  “For as long as it takes.”

  “To do what?”

  She held his concerned gaze, to be sure this was what she wanted. Slowly, a mischievous smile stretched her lips. “To cause a little havoc in HB. Want to help?”

  “Oh, yeah, Cuz.” Lenny whooped and broke into a dance that involved gyrating legs and pinwheeling arms.

  Chapter 5

  Shortly after daybreak the next day, Morgan brushed down two of the three horses he and his grandfather boarded at this stable located near his grandfather’s cottage by the lake. They were scheduled to ride this morning.

  As was Tucker’s custom, he arrived promptly with his gray hair immaculate and mustache neatly trimmed. His shirt collar was stiff as his posture and pressed pants. His only concession for the relaxing nature of their excursion was a button at his neck and no fanciful tie.

  Morgan wore jeans, a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat. He patiently observed his granddad adjust his hearing aid; the reason the old man had finally been discharged from the army. Morgan loved that hearing aid. It had signaled an end to the constant travelling that marred his young life.

  They mounted and were about to leave when a loud ‘halloo’ startled the horses. By the time they’d quieted them, Helen Clay skidded to a stop in her electric car, jumped out and hurried over to them, waving.

  “Morning, Helen.” Tucker straightened and sat at attention on his horse as if his drill sergeant had come for an inspection.

  “You two are up early,” Helen said, panting and smiling. “Glad I caught you before you left. I wanted to apologize in person.”

  Tucker nodded acceptance but still sat ramrod stiff. “Before the court case? Were you hoping to talk me into dropping the charges?”

  “Not at all,” Helen said, with an innocent expression. “You have every right to press charges.”

  “In that case, I’ll see you in court,” Tucker said, just as a cloud threw a shadow over them.

  Helen and Tucker stared at each other li
ke opponents in a death match.

  “Lovely morning,” Morgan said, to lighten the mood. “Would you like to ride with us? I can saddle up the mare.”

  “Thank you for the kind offer, Morgan, but no. I just wanted to say Phoebe and I were sorry for any bother we caused.”

  “She sent you to apologize for her?” Tucker asked, as if in disapproval.

  “She’s resting up. Worked late at the café last night. I’m worried she blames herself for that unfortunate incident over at your place.”

  “We both know that’s not true, don’t we?” his grandfather replied, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

  Morgan was shocked by Tucker’s accusation.

  Helen merely smiled as if she were enjoying their conversational skirmish. “Think you know me that well?”

  “Well enough.”

  “Bet you can’t guess what I’m going to ask next?” Her head tilted as she gazed up at the major, immovable on his steed.

  “Are you going to ask me if I have your cat?”

  Helen chuckled. “You don’t know me at all, Tucker Harrington. I was going to ask if you’re free for dinner. Tonight. After the trial. To show my regret at misjudging you. Crazy to think you would steal my cat.”

  He gave a non-committal, ‘hrmph’.

  “Is that a yes, then?” Helen asked.

  “To what?”

  “Don’t be coy. To my dinner invite, of course.”

  “If you’re not in jail by then, I accept. What time?”

  “Eight.” Her glance swerved to Morgan, who’d been watching the byplay in fascination. “You’re welcome to join us.”

  His grandfather gave him a swift sideways glare with a barely perceptible shake of his head that suggested Morgan’s answer had better be a firm, No.

  Surprised by that silent communication, he said, “Thank you, Helen, but I have to leave town for a couple of days to meet with a new client in Portland. I plan to prepare my notes and pack and head out tonight. Another time?”

  With a smile and nod, she left using long purposeful strides to return to where she’d parked her car sideways in the middle of the driveway.

  “What do you suppose she’s up to with this invite?” Tucker asked, sounding introspective.

  “To apologize?” Morgan suggested.

  His grandfather gave him a sour look. “You’re in sad shape today if you can’t see through that ploy. Let’s go.”

  They left the stable and headed toward the path leading to the woods out back.

  Morgan ducked under a low-lying branch and followed his grandfather up a narrow pathway. First Janet accused the Clays of being criminals. Now Tucker thought Helen had an ulterior motive. Morgan had known Helen and Brenda for three years and they had always behaved in an exemplary, law-abiding manner. It wasn’t until Phoebe came home that trouble arrived. Helen wasn’t leading Phoebe astray; it was the other way around. Wasn’t it?

  They reached an area where they could ride abreast.

  “You and Janet had a fight,” Tucker said in a firm tone. A statement, not a question.

  Tucker might be clueless about Helen, but he apparently knew all about his grandson. “Yes.”

  “She’s jealous,” Tucker said, resolutely.

  Nothing to argue about there. His grandfather was right.

  They entered an open patch between a rock face and a lake and, with a mutual nod, they raced along the edge of the water. Afterwards, they dismounted and walked the horses to cool them off.

  Morgan stopped to squat by the lake’s edge and let a handful of water slip through his fingers. “Phoebe’s like no woman I’ve ever met,” he said, returning to their earlier topic. That was why he’d suggested this ride, after all. He wanted Tucker’s advice. “When I’m near her, I can’t think straight. I lose perspective and forget what’s best for me.”

  “By best for you...do you mean Janet?” Tucker asked, gazing across the lake.

  “A question?” Morgan chuckled and stood. “Not a statement this time.”

  “I thought your grandmother was best for me.”

  Unusual twist. Tucker rarely talked about his wife. She’d died before Morgan was born. “Do you miss her?”

  Tucker shrugged. “Now and then. I cared for her. We had a lot in common, but she wasn’t what was best for me.”

  “What do you mean, Gramps?”

  “I had just turned thirty when we met. Most of my friends were long married and raising kids. Yet, I wasn’t in love. I began to doubt such an emotion was real. Lust, I understood. Love?” He shook his head as if perplexed.

  Morgan gave his grandfather a curious look. He’d never heard his taciturn grandfather say so many words in one string. Personal revelations, in fact.

  “When I met your grandmother,” Tucker continued to muse, “we got along. She was pretty. She liked to have fun. She grew to care for me. So, I thought, why not?” He kicked a stone into the water. “Our marriage worked out okay. The army duties kept me busy and away most of the time. Then we had your dad. It was a good life, but I was never in love with Mary. I never woke up with her as my first thought and went to bed with her as the last. She didn’t make my world sparkle.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with settling for a good life, Gramps,” Morgan said gently. He didn’t like the idea of his grandfather living with regret. Especially an unnecessary one.

  “I wonder sometimes if she could have been happier with someone who made her world sparkle. If I denied her that happiness.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Feeling uncomfortably restless, Morgan collected his horse. His grandfather followed suit. Together they walked up the pathway.

  “I want you to consider the consequences before you make a permanent commitment to Janet,” Tucker said. “One you can’t back out of without hurting both of you irreparably. Especially once kids start to arrive.”

  “Why are you saying this now?” Morgan asked with exasperation. “I’ve been seeing Janet for months.”

  Tucker sent him a cautious glance as if wondering how much to say. Then he sighed and added, “I’ve suspected for a while that she might not be right for you. Too controlling. You didn’t smile when you spoke about her. Then I saw your look when you spotted Phoebe, and I knew Janet was out.”

  “She’s not out,” was Morgan’s instant reply, but was she?

  “If you’re fantasizing about another woman, it’s time to move on.”

  “Phoebe and I have no future, Gramps. We have nothing in common. She doesn’t even like me.”

  “That’s not a good enough reason to marry Janet.”

  Morgan halted and his horse bumped him from behind. How was it his grandfather could make the most complicated scenario seem simple and straightforward? He was right, though. Carrying on dating Janet while he was falling for someone else was unfair not only to himself, but to her. Yet, he hated ending relationships.

  “If you’ve never fallen in love, how did you get to be so wise about the subject?” Morgan asked with a small smile.

  “I said I hadn’t been in love with my wife. Not that I’d never fallen in love.”

  Surprised, he was about to ask with whom, when he remembered his grandfather’s posture when Helen came over to them at the stables. How he had seemed delighted in the police station at having captured Helen’s undivided attention.

  “Ah, is that how it is?” Morgan asked as light dawned. He gave his grandfather a hug, chuckling.

  They were trotting toward home when an alarming thought popped up. Could Tucker have kidnapped Helen’s cat? He instantly shook his head. No, of course not. Not this strait-laced army major. Still, Morgan made a mental note to check their basement. Just in case.

  Later that day, Morgan arrived for his luncheon appointment with Janet and stopped dead in his tracks. How could he have picked one of her favorite haunts for “the talk?” They’d come here on their first date.

  “It’s too busy in there today,” he said. “Let’s try that place across t
he street.”

  “Are you mad?” she asked. “I love it here. You made a reservation, didn’t you?”

  He had. “Nope. That pub looks like it might be fun.”

  She tugged at his arm, laughing. “Come on, you fool. We’ve been here so often, they’ll find us a table.”

  Once they were seated, Janet ordered her usual salad, followed by a ham on rye sandwich, grilled. He spent such an inordinate time on the menu, she snatched it out of his hands and ordered the same for him. He morosely watched the waiter leave. He had wanted to order soup. Why hadn’t he? His inability to order soup was a symptom of the problem with his and Janet’s relationship.

  “We can’t avoid this discussion, Morgan,” she said. “I know you’re attracted to that Clay, Phoebe.”

  He tried to utter the words he’d practiced all morning but nothing came out. No soup for you. That old cliché popped up and he struggled to smother a hysterical laugh.

  “I understand.” She put her hand over his to stop his fidgeting.

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “You have an unnatural attachment to the Clays. Like an addiction, if you face it, you can overcome it.”

  With a sigh, he pulled away from her touch and glanced around the restaurant. Situated close to the station, this place was packed with cops. Whenever he acted as a public defender, he worked with some of these officers. If Janet made a scene, everyone in the precinct would know. Bad for him, and bad for her.

  “I can’t see what you have against the Clays,” he said. “They’re a perfectly ordinary family.”

  Janet snorted and his gaze swung back to hers. There was such loathing in her eyes. How had he missed that?

  The waiter brought their starters and Morgan took a swallow of his ice-cold beer. The liquid soothed his burning stomach and paved the way for his salad. He crunched the first raw bite and knew he should have asked for a nice warm bowl of soup.

  “You’ve gone quiet,” Janet said. “If you don’t want to talk, we don’t have to. Just think about it rationally.”