Driftwood Cove--Two stories for the price of one

by Debbie Mason

  It didn’t take much to get the desire to do so under control. One look at the black gloves that covered his large yet elegant hands, dark jacket, sweater, pants, and shoes half hidden in blue paper booties reminded her of what he’d been up to.

  Apparently Cherry had forgotten that part. She was following after him with her tongue practically hanging out of her mouth. Even Roxy appeared to be in love with the man. Shay was gratified to see Teddy looking at him with wary eyes and a sneer.

  Obviously still confident in his ability to win over any woman—young or old—with his charm and good looks, he handed Roxy to Shay. There was an emotion in his improbable blue eyes that she couldn’t read. Maybe it had been so long since she had those lapis orbs focused on her that she couldn’t think straight. Or maybe it was because she knew exactly what was going on in his head when he looked from her to the sisters standing in her kitchen after midnight with no parent in sight.

  He raised his fingers as though to caress her face but then slowly lowered them. He’d always been better at reading her emotions than she had been at reading his.

  He offered Teddy and Gabby a smile that had no doubt ensured there was standing room only in the courtroom when he tried a case. “I’m an FBI agent, Teddy, but you’re not in trouble, okay? I understand you were looking out for Charlie, and that was an incredibly brave thing for you to do. Next time, though, it might be better if you picked up the phone and called 911 instead of picking up a gun that could have just as easily been used against you.”

  The wealth of attitude in the look that Teddy gave Michael made Shay smile.

  Cherry moved in to retrieve Roxy, who was squirming in Shay’s arms. “Scary. The kid’s your mini-me,” Cherry said sotto voce.

  Shay’s smile fell as she saw what Cherry and Michael must have, and the memories crept up on her. Whoever said you can’t go home was right. And if you could, you shouldn’t. Then she reminded herself why she was here and who might be behind Charlie’s disappearance. If it had been someone sent by Danny Costello instead of Michael here tonight…“He’s right, Teddy. I appreciate you looking out for my uncle, but next time, call the cops if you see anything suspicious. Charlie wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you on account of him.”

  The little girl’s head lifted off of Teddy’s shoulder, and she opened her mouth.

  “We better go,” Teddy said, tightening her arms around her sister.

  Shay wondered what it was that Teddy didn’t want her sister to tell. She’d have to wait to question her when they didn’t have an audience.

  “Not so fast,” Michael said, carefully wrapping the blanket around the two girls. “I have to walk you home. I’d get in trouble if my boss found out that I didn’t. You don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?” He winked at Gabby, who blinked and then gave him a smile that said it was love at first sight. Which of course was adorable on a five-year-old, but Shay was pretty sure she’d given him a similar smile the day they’d first met.

  Teddy huffed a disgusted breath. Cherry laughed, and Shay realized she’d just done the same.

  “I know what you’re doing. You’re just checking up to see if we’re alone. My mom is on her way home. She had to work overtime. Her boss is a tool. But I’m fourteen so you can’t charge us or anything.”

  Shay didn’t know how much more she could take. It was like someone’s idea of a bad joke. She could see herself standing where Teddy was, defending her uncle to the woman from social services. Seventeen years later and she still remembered her name, Olive Olivetti.

  Beside her, Cherry made a sympathetic noise. Shay nudged her in the ribs. Sympathy wasn’t what Teddy needed or wanted. Something Shay knew from firsthand experience.

  “From what I saw tonight, you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself and your little sister, Teddy,” Michael said.

  That was the perfect thing to say. Trust Michael to get it right.

  “I’ve got a couple of questions about Charlie, and Gabby looks like she’s ready for bed. So how about I walk home with you and you can tell me what I need to know, and then you and your sister can get some sleep?”

  Teddy’s distrust of Michael remained evident on her face. The kid was obviously a much better judge of character than Shay had ever been.

  * * *

  Michael walked up the stairs to the back deck. Shay was crouched at the patio door, the overhead light shining down on her inky black hair. She wore it tied back in a ponytail that fell over the shoulder of her black hoodie. He took in her profile, the long, lush lashes; the straight, narrow nose; the curve of her high cheekbone; the hint of her full, sensuous lips; and the delicate jawline that belied the strength of the woman. Her long, lithe frame that did the same. She glanced to where he stood watching her.

  “Let me do that,” he said, clearing the roughness from his voice as he nodded at the screwdriver in her hand. He knew he had to tell her what GG had done as soon as he saw those two little girls in her kitchen, saw the reaction on Shay’s face when the memories came rushing back. But for just a few minutes, he wanted to talk to her without another betrayal coming between them.

  He waited for her to scoff at his offer. She didn’t like to be beholden to anyone or made to feel like there was something she couldn’t do on her own. She was fiercely independent and scarily self-reliant. They were her greatest strengths and conversely her biggest weaknesses.

  She came to her feet, her fingers lightly brushing his as she handed him the screwdriver. He felt that small electrical charge of attraction and heat, both relieved and disappointed it was still there. She felt it, too, he knew. He heard the quick inhalation, saw the light flicker in her silver-gray eyes. Once, he’d seen a snow leopard with eyes the color of hers. There was something catlike about her movements. She was graceful, fast…and the way she was looking at him right then reminded him of the leopard with its prey.

  “Where’s your friend?” he asked in order to give himself some time. He crouched at the patio door, screwdriver in hand, ready to wow her with his handyman skills and maybe earn some brownie points. He frowned, reaching around to move the lock up and down on the inside of the door. He came to his feet. “You could have told me you already fixed it.”

  “Yep, I could have. And you could’ve told me why you picked the lock in the first place and what you were doing in there.” She lifted her chin at the house next door. “Are they okay?”

  He was pretty sure Teddy was holding something back, but without an adult around, he hadn’t wanted to press too hard. He’d be back, though. Unwilling to share his suspicions with Shay, at least for now, he nodded. “I stalled as long as I could. House is clean, food in the fridge, and locks are solid.”

  She knew as well as he did that a clean house and food in the fridge didn’t always tell the whole story. He had no doubt that tomorrow she’d nose around, strike up a conversation with the girls’ mother, and get a feel as to whether the kids were truly safe. He’d do some digging of his own.

  “What did Teddy tell you about Charlie? When was the last time she saw him?”

  It looked like his reprieve was over. “Why don’t we go inside? It’s cold out, and you’ve had a long drive. You look tired,” he said, and, unable to help himself, brought his hand to her face. She leaned into it, her face soft in his palm, her breath warm against his skin. He stroked her satin-smooth cheek with his thumb, wishing, not for the first time, that he hadn’t questioned Jasper tonight.

  She covered his hand with hers, lifting those starlight eyes to his. “What are you keeping from me, Michael? Is it bad news?”

  “No, not really. In a way, it’s good news. I just need you to know that tonight is the first I heard about it.”

  She frowned, releasing his hand to step away from him. “What is it?”

  He mourned the loss of her closeness. The air suddenly felt colder, and without her scent of wildflowers filling his senses, he smelled the faint, sulfuric odor coming off the salt marsh
es. He struggled to think of a way to break the news of GG’s interference in their lives without alienating Shay for good.

  In the end, Michael had no choice but to tell her the truth; she’d lost her sisters because of his great-grandmother. It would’ve been easier if there was a particular incident that he could point to, a concrete reason for GG to have done what she did, but he only knew what Jasper had told him, which he shared with Shay. As well as what went down at the wharf between the two older men.

  She stood stiff and silent as he talked.

  “I don’t know what else to say but that I’m sorry, Shay. I guess the only positive out of this is that now Charlie has something to go on, he might actually find your sisters. I’ll do whatever I can to help. And given the timeline of his meeting with Jasper and when Teddy saw him last, Charlie’s been cleared as a suspect in Tony’s murder. He couldn’t have made it from here to Boston in…Shay?”

  It felt like she was pulling his heart from his chest when she raised her gaze to his. Her eyes glistened like quicksilver. He’d never seen her cry before. “Shay, honey.” He reached for her, and she jerked away as though sickened by his touch.

  “Just an hour ago I was thinking it was probably Hattie who called social services, but I should’ve known better. I should’ve known it was a Gallagher. First your mother, and then your great-grandmother. And you, you must be really disappointed not to be able to pin Tony’s murder on Charlie. You always did blame him for what happened to us.”

  “Stop. Don’t say anything else, not now. You’re tired. Sleep on it, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

  “No. I don’t ever want to see you or talk to you again. I don’t want to see any of you.”

  He couldn’t let it end this way. “Shay, please, let me try and find your sisters. I—”

  “I found my sisters last year.” She walked into the house and closed the sliding door.

  Chapter Six

  Michael glanced at his watch as he tossed the blue rubber Kong a few yards from the back door of the cottage. It was his first day driving to work from Harmony Harbor, and he calculated that he had to be on the road in twenty minutes if he wanted to make it to headquarters before his partner. All he’d need was to give the guy something else to razz him about. Oliver James could have taught Michael’s brothers a thing or two about getting under someone’s skin, and that was saying a lot.

  “Buddy, what are you waiting for? Go get your Kong.”

  Michael had been trying to ensure that Atticus’s failing eyesight didn’t rob him of his enjoyment of life. The Kong was filled with peanut butter, so he should be able to sniff it out. If he was the least bit interested in doing anything other than sitting on the back deck. Which, apparently, he wasn’t.

  Michael took the dog’s long face in his hands. “I get it, buddy. In a few days, you’ll know where everything is and won’t be bumping into things. It’s okay to be scared. We all get scared sometimes. It’s what you do with your fear that matters.” He gave Atticus a pat and then walked across the yard to pick up the Kong, tossing the peanut-butter-filled toy closer to the back deck. “Give it another try, boy,” Michael said. Then he murmured, “You’ve got this,” when Atticus tentatively came down the steps, cheering when he claimed his prize.

  It gave Michael hope. Like his dog, he was feeling a bit out of his element too. And maybe a little afraid. Afraid that the odds of Shay ever speaking to him again were negligible.

  She’d slayed him when she had looked up with tears in her eyes and admitted she’d found her sisters. In his gut, he knew the reunion hadn’t gone well. It wasn’t fair that she’d dealt with that on her own, and he didn’t doubt that she had. She’d always been a loner. She rarely let anyone in, let alone confided in them. Maybe that’s how she’d survived the losses and the pain.

  He thought of Cherry racing toward him, heedless of the danger. Her only concern protecting Shay, a woman who prided herself on her street smarts and ability to take care of herself. He smiled, thinking that Cherry would probably hear about it today if she hadn’t last night.

  Sometimes it surprised him how well he knew Shay. Then again, he’d known her before her walls had been cemented into place. There were no cracks or fissures now, no room for anyone to sneak past her defenses.

  Michael pulled his phone from the pocket of his navy wool coat, scrolling to Cherry’s number. He sent her a text, asking her to let him know if Shay was okay. He hoped her phone was off or at least on vibrate. It was early, and they’d gotten in late last night.

  He could’ve waited, he supposed. But he’d just end up second-guessing himself later. Something he’d done for the better part of the night. Best to do it before he remembered the way Shay had looked at him last night, the anger in her eyes…and the hurt. If he thought about it for too long, he might come to the same conclusion that she had. The last thing she wanted or needed was a Gallagher in her life. All they’d ever done was cause her pain.

  A minute later, his cell rang. FaceTime. He accepted, and Shay’s friend appeared on the screen. Thin strips of curly blue eyelashes were stuck to her forehead. He assumed the culprit was the pink satin eye mask that held back her hair. The blond locks looked like they’d been electrified.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, Cherry.”

  She waved fingers weighed down by stacks of rings and yawned. “No problemo, Agentlicious. Roxy’s going tinkle, and she takes forever when it’s cold.” She turned the camera to the apricot-colored poodle squatting beside a garden gnome. “Say hi to our special agent man, Roxy. Shoot, I forgot. She won’t tinkle when anyone’s watching. Sorry, Roxy Roo.” She turned the camera so fast that everything was a blur.

  It might have been better had the picture stayed that way. When it came back into focus, he got a bird’s-eye view of an impressive chest. Cherry wore a pink feather-trimmed negligee that left little to the imagination.

  “Cherry.” He cleared his throat, motioning upward with his index finger in hopes she’d clue in. “You might want to put on a jacket,” he said when she didn’t.

  She looked down and patted herself. “It’s okay. They haven’t froze yet.” She smiled at him. “Now tell me all about you and my Shaybae. No.” She raised a finger when he opened his mouth. “You two can deny it all you want, but I saw the way you looked at each other last night. The amount of heat flying between you two was enough to give me a hot flash, and I’m only thirty-nine.”

  “We’re friends,” he said, knowing that’s all Shay would want him to admit to.

  “Of the benefits kind, I know. That’s what Shaybae said. But I’ve been around the block a time or two, and I’m guessing you were her first love and she was yours. Only you’ve never gotten over her, have you, Agentlicious?”

  At the sympathy in her voice, he rubbed the heel of his palm across his chest. The truth hurt, though it shouldn’t. It wasn’t like it was news to him. Still, as embarrassed as he was to come across as a sap—at least he hoped Cherry was thinking a sap and not a stalker—who was unable to let go of his feelings for the woman he once loved, he couldn’t bring himself to disconnect.

  “I’m concerned about her, that’s all. She’s been through a lot. And while she won’t admit it, she’s worried about her uncle. Do me a favor, Cherry. Keep an eye on her. Let me know if she needs anything.” Huh, that was pretty impressive. He was almost 99 percent certain that his concerned but definitely not hung up on her voice would convince Cherry that she’d misread the situation.

  “Oh, don’t you worry. I—” The door opened behind her, and Michael got a glimpse of Shay’s bed head and heavy-lidded eyes just before he got an up-close-and-personal view of Cherry’s cleavage.

  “Seriously,” he heard Shay mutter at the same time he came back into the wintery white light.

  Shay reappeared on the screen. If he had any doubts she’d become a morning person in the past ten years, the ticked-off look on her face kind of cleared that up.

  “Shay, I can”�
��Beep. Beep—“explain.”

  Michael stared at the dark screen for a minute, debating whether or not to call back. “When did I become a masochist, Atticus?” he asked his dog, who dropped the Kong at his feet.

  Michael turned as a metallic gray Cadillac pulled in the gravel drive with his mother, Maura, behind the wheel. She rarely drove around the block herself let alone left Boston, so it was slightly unnerving to see her here. Their relationship had been strained since Michael’s ex, Bethany Adams, had called off their wedding fifteen months before.

  His fiancée had been handpicked and groomed by his mother to be the perfect governor’s wife. Only, Michael had decided he didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps and worked up the courage to tell them the night before they were to be married. Bethany’s temper tantrum had ensured he hadn’t been heartbroken when she threw her engagement ring at his head. Unlike his mother, who’d been beside herself with grief, though her grief looked a lot like anger.

  Over the past year, things had gotten better between him and Maura. Though it was far from the loving mother and son relationship it had once been when he was younger. Too much water had gone over the dam. For him, it went back to the part Maura played in Shay’s sentencing. For his mother, she’d lost her standing with the Boston elite because of his broken engagement. The Adamses were higher up in the social stratosphere than the Gallaghers, and Bethany turned on Maura as quickly as she’d turned on Michael.

  His mother remained in the car, looking at him through the windshield. Of course she’d expect him to help her from the car. Which he already would’ve done had he not been trying to decide how bad a sign it was that she’d shown up. He dug in his pocket for an antacid and discreetly put it in his mouth as he walked toward the Cadillac. “Mother, this is a surprise,” he said upon opening the door.