The glass doors parted and Mom carried a tray of fresh produce onto the deck. Adrian kissed her cheek and placed the tray on the table.
“The Prices invited me for dinner after your fancy lawyer got them off the hook for killing those people.” Mrs. Davis plucked the pineapple chunk off her glass’s rim and bit into it.
Mom smiled. I curled my fingers.
Mrs. Davis looked at me as she went on. “He was good. Everyone saw these two fighting with both the victims and he still got them off.” She tipped her glass, sucking down the fruity liquor.
Adrian removed the glass and delivered her a look I’d never seen. “Mom, I think you’ve had enough.” She shut up.
I took a step back in case of an apocalypse.
“It’s true, of course.” Mom’s soft voice loosened the fists at my sides. “We had a disagreement with Mr. Trent about his rig. I know the island invited him here to study those sharks and to get them safely away from the beach, but he didn’t need to park so close to the shoreline. He endangered smaller marine life and I couldn’t be quiet about the murder of our fellow creatures. We have to speak for those who can’t speak for themselves.”
I eyeballed the load of scallops in Dad’s pan.
Mom protected the living. Once sea life made it to the harbor for sale, they were fair game. Someone was going to eat them at that point, right? Might as well be us.
A new voice joined the conversation. “He impaired our local fishermen’s ability to work and he could’ve wrecked the entire ecosystem for our shallow water life.”
“There you are.” Dad shut the lid on his grill and met Sasha Dunlap on the steps.
“Wouldn’t have missed it. Congratulations on your liberation. This is for you.” She wrapped Mom in her arms and handed Dad a bottle of wine.
Sasha was a staple in our home growing up. She and Mom were made of the same fabric. Cosmically connected. Soul sisters or something. Their looks on the other hand were dramatically different. Mom’s sandy, sun-streaked hair hung to her waist in a loose braid. Sasha’s salt and pepper hair was cropped short in an endearing pixie cut. She wore form-fitted, fashionable clothes and traveled often, like a rich hippie. Mom wore flowing things she made in 1975 and only left the island under duress.
“How’s your practice going, sweetie?” Sasha pressed her cool palms to my cheeks.
Mrs. Davis chortled and Adrian moved to my side, putting his back to his mother.
“Nice to see you, Mrs. Dunlap.” He leaned in for a hug and smiled.
She examined the two of us silently until I shifted foot to foot, like old times.
“The island’s abuzz with all the good things you’re doing.” She hooked her arm in mine and led me into the kitchen.
Sasha gathered a tray of wineglasses from Mom’s rack and pulled a cork remover from the junk drawer.
“Do you like wine, Patience?”
“I don’t know much about it, but so far so good when it’s served with meals.”
Laughter erupted on the deck. The house stilled around us.
“I do. I like wine a lot. Perhaps too much.” She carried the tray to my side. “Do you think that’s okay, Patience?”
She used my name more than necessary for some reason. “Um. Sure. Wine is a lovely hobby. Our East coast vineyards are gorgeous. There’s quite a bit of science involved in good wine, I believe.”
“I have a glass with my fruit at breakfast. It started on a trip to Maui when I stayed at a spa, but I enjoyed the practice so much I made it part of my routine. I’ve also learned Mimosas are a delicious addition to lunch. They make me feel like a movie star. A movie star half my age.” Her hazel eyes glinted.
For the first time, her beautiful twinkling eyes seemed glassy. How long had I mistaken tipsy for bubbly?
“Wine’s good for your heart.” She motioned for me to open the deck door. “And it helps you sleep.” She set the tray on the table in front of Mrs. Davis and shook a finger at my face. The bags under her eyes could probably be seen from space. I’d never noticed those before either or passed them off as jet lag from travel. “Also, wine is a great excuse to unwind.” She wiggled her eyebrows and angled her body toward Adrian manning Dad’s grill.
Wow. All kinds of inappropriate. She handed me a glass and I accepted.
“Cheers.”
Mom’s bestie was a lush. What’s a girl do with that information? It explained quite a few childhood memories. I sipped half my glass, pondering.
“You know, I think you were hard on Sebastian.” Mom wrapped an arm around Sasha’s waist. “I’m usually a good judge of character, and he bothered me at first. Have you met him?”
Sasha rolled her head against Mom’s shoulder. “Not yet, but I’ve seen him. Nothing to complain about there.”
Mom blushed. “Well, he’s very guarded. I don’t like that in a potential suitor for Patience and I wasn’t as warm to him as I should’ve been. She’s closed off enough. She needs a boy with charisma to pull her out and make sure she has a little fun once in a while.”
Gee. Whoever could she have in mind for me?
“But you changed your mind about him.” I rotated my wrist in the universal as-you-were-saying signal.
Mom nodded. “He has redeeming qualities. I still think he hides behind those steely eyes too much, but he’s not as sketchy as I imagined. He was kind and gracious to your father and me while we were under investigation. He didn’t have to be.”
“I liked him because he liked you so much.” Dad smiled beside Adrian at the grill. Adrian gave the pan of scallops his undivided attention.
“Did he tell you that?” I stepped away from the women and hoped Mrs. Davis wouldn’t ruin Mom’s evening with Sasha. She was too quiet. Probably taking notes and tweeting our every word.
“Yeah.”
“He said that?” I closed in on Dad. “He said he liked me a lot?” I stopped short. Sebastian didn’t go around declaring anything, especially not his feelings. If he completed multiple sentences on any topic in one sitting, it was a miracle.
“Not exactly.”
“What exactly?”
Adrian snickered but kept out of it.
“Well, a man knows. That boy’s smitten and it’s written all over his expressionless face.”
“Uh-huh.” I rolled my eyes. Both my parents had called a thirty-five-year-old former navy SEAL and current special agent a boy.
“He knows how much time you’re spending with this one.” Dad elbowed Adrian. My parents also liked calling people “this one” and “that one.” Adrian and I made it a kissing game in high school. We listened to their conversations and kissed whenever they used the expression. After about four or five kisses, Mom or Dad inevitably told us to knock it off, but they never let us know if they made the connection.
“Yeah? What did that one say about my time with this one?” I stared at Adrian. Did he remember the kissing game?
“He said he was glad you weren’t alone.”
My heart stumbled. What?
Adrian sighed dramatically. “What that one lacks in personality, he makes up for with a big fat hero complex.”
I laughed. He’d nailed Sebastian.
Dad wiped his hands against his apron. “I told him all about how close you two were growing up and how that evolved in high school. He took it like a champ and said ‘all the better.’ He thinks that if Adrian cares for you that deeply, he’ll protect you with all he has and that’s exactly what Sebastian wants since he can’t be with you right now.”
Adrian rolled his eyes.
“What a putz,” Mrs. Davis stage whispered.
The local news on Dad’s radio transitioned to a song I recognized from childhood. My parents’ favorite. “Wonderful Tonight.” Dad approached Mom with an outstretched hand
and twirled her on the outskirts of the deck.
Maybe they were right. I was too hard on Sebastian. I got so caught up in whatever was happening on the island I forgot the fact a mobster wanted his head. He had a lot on his plate and not enough help. Chincoteague’s police force was down to Sheriff Fargas, formerly known as Deputy Doofus. Though, his team canvassed the island in unmistakable black SUVs, catching everyone’s attention as they paraded down Main Street. Maybe he’d relax a little more now that he had his team in place. Maybe give me a break for helping him. All my nosing around helped me feel as if I was with him when I wasn’t. If we couldn’t spend time together, we could still be partners if he’d accept my help.
“May I?” Adrian blocked my view of the harbor and looked into my eyes. Before I answered, he slid one warm hand against the small of my back and lifted my free hand in his. To the tune of an unfathomably romantic song, he danced me away from the table and led me down the deck steps. At the edge of the yard, we resumed the slow rhythm.
Adrian leaned in close, burying his face in my hair. “I called some contractors.”
Not what I expected.
“I’m rebuilding your office. It won’t be a boathouse anymore. It’ll be smaller and simple.” Standing at the water’s edge with Adrian so close and grilled food in the air, the night smelled like half my collective memories. “No stove this time.”
I laughed at his awful joke. The last office exploded after a maniac cut the gas line and lit a room full of fireworks.
Adrian held me tight. “No fireworks allowed.”
More laughter. Where was it coming from? I blamed the wine.
“They started working on it yesterday. I wanted to surprise you, but I know how surprises work in this town. They expect the place under roof by your birthday. Surprise.” He squeezed my hand gently.
“Adrian.” My throat clogged. “You shouldn’t do that. It’s too much.”
“Well, I want to. The place is still mine, but I don’t need it since I set up shop downstairs from your apartment. You should use the new space as long as you want.”
I nodded. I had no words.
“Giving you an office is the least I can do for all you give back to this place. You’re important and well loved around here.”
I couldn’t look him in the eyes. The truth in his words settled into my bones. I made a difference. Taking full breaths of the night air, I enjoyed the tingle of wine in my system. I didn’t fight him. I wanted to be loved. To do good. To make a difference.
“Thank you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Adrian drove me home after dinner. His mom had lightened up after some of Sasha’s wine and we left the three women giggling over dessert. Dad walked Adrian and me to the Jeep and hugged me tighter than I remembered him doing before. It was a lovely evening.
The Jeep slowed outside my apartment but didn’t slide against the curb as expected. What about walking me up, making a lame excuse to come inside and all the awkward moments and stupid jokes? I’d finished my glass of wine intentionally before we left.
“I had a nice time tonight. Thanks for the dance.” Adrian peered past me, toward the non—existent passenger door of the Jeep.
“Me too. Thanks for driving and for being good to my parents. And to me.”
He nodded. No words? Hmm.
I swung my feet around and planted them on the ground.
“See you tomorrow.” Adrian shifted into gear and rolled away, leaving me in the street. His taillights disappeared around the corner. What had gotten into him?
Shadows loomed over the street and yards around me, giving every parked car and corner a sinister appearance. I imagined headlights of a parked car flicking on moments before it mowed me down. No thanks. I jogged across the sidewalk, grabbed the handrail to my steps and propelled my body toward safety. I chanted mentally. No more dead birds. No more dead birds.
“Ah!” A figure on my steps nearly scared the wine out of me.
Sebastian sat on the stoop. Freud lazed in his lap, cleaning paws and enjoying life. Every stroke of Sebastian’s giant hand bobbed the kitty’s head, increasing the little engine inside him. He purred and vibrated in ecstasy.
I frowned at the little fluff ball. Freud wanted to be held and petted. He was adorable, but he was an outdoor cat. A hunter. A little tough guy. My heart fell. Freud was also a baby in need of a comforter and a safe haven. He came to me and I relegated him to the stoop, gave him a cup of kibble crunchies and put him on mouse duty. Complete parenting failure. Good thing I didn’t have kids. What would I do to them? I shuddered.
“How was your night?” Sebastian’s low, easy voice was balm on my nerves.
“Better now.” I sat beside him in the tiny space outside my door.
“Sorry I haven’t been around for you.” He slid his eyes my way without turning his head. “I’m closer than you think.”
I scanned the street. The Range Rover sat blanketed in shadow ten feet from my steps. I walked right past it thinking about killer cars. Adrian probably saw it. Nice to know he hadn’t left me alone on a dark street.
“You’re busy.” I conceded.
“Never too busy for you.” He shifted beside me, leaning his back against the railing.
I didn’t point out he was wrong.
“You think I’m not here, not thinking of you, and you’re wrong.”
Me? Nope.
“All I’ve done since I came here in July is think of you. Where is she now? Is she safe? Is she alone? Does she need a medic? If I’m honest, I thought of you before that too.”
I smiled.
“I’m glad Adrian didn’t walk you up. Was he going to?”
“Probably.”
“Good.”
I laughed. The words sounded like a contradiction, but they weren’t. Dad told me Sebastian accepted Adrian in my life because Adrian would protect me no matter what. I didn’t need protecting, but whatever. Men. The sentiment was nice.
He nudged my sandal with his boot.
I looked into his dark eyes, wishing I could read minds. “What’s new at the station?” Sitting in the dark with Sebastian gave me improper thoughts. Cool island air blew around my shoulders, but I was far from cold.
“You probably noticed the recruits rolling in this week. My team’s here. They make a big difference. We got a few reports about a Godwit killer.” He pulled Freud from his lap, disengaging his claws forty times until Freud gave up the battle and sauntered down the steps with a whine.
Like a complete moron, I cried. Tears welled in my eyes and fell over my cheeks. Frustration did that to me. Sebastian pulled me against him, wrapping me in strong, protective arms.
“Someone keeps leaving dead birds on my stoop.” I wiped tears and sniffled until his shirt was wet from both. It was the kind of breakdown women didn’t have in front of anyone they were trying to impress. Certainly not in front of someone with a face like Sebastian’s. I rubbed my thumbs frantically under each eye. Mascara likely painted my face.
“You recognize those birds for what they are.” Not a question. Sebastian’s easy voice had an edge. He knew too. I may have the therapy practice, but he had real experience with dangerous people. The birds were a warning. Like the delightful little notes, the birds also said “You’re next.”
“Let me handle this.” His arm tightened around me. “You trusted me to take on the worst cases at the FBI. I put together task forces and took out crime families. We shut down drug trafficking and arms rings. You came to me then. Why won’t you come to me now? Tell me what’s happened. What ruined that trust?”
I sat up, hoping my makeup wasn’t as bad as I thought. “Those operations were abstract, out of my life, beyond my sight, surreal. Back then I sat at a desk. It was like a role-playing game. I heard about your assign
ment one day. Next time I saw you, you’d tell me how it went. This is my life. People I love live here. This is my island.”
“What you’re saying is you’re a control freak with limited trust.”
I snorted. “What you’re saying is you spend too much time with a counselor.”
“I have a psychology degree too, don’t forget.” Seated beside me, Sebastian was several inches taller. He looked down at me, his expression covered in shadows. I knew all about his psychology degree, his stint in navy intelligence and all the other things ever documented about him. I’d hired him. He impressed me before I ever laid eyes on him and he hadn’t stopped since.
His face dropped closer. “I’ve got this under control. Do you understand?” The steady tempo of his voice entranced me as cool breath washed over my face. The spicy scent of his familiar cologne entered my brain and wreaked havoc. I nodded.
Sebastian lifted my chin with his fingers and kissed my lips. “Good. Now, are you going to invite me in or do I have to keep staying at the bed and breakfast?”
I kissed him back by way of an answer. After a glass of wine, his macho “take me inside” didn’t offend me. I liked it. Which is why I didn’t usually drink. Inhibitions were a safety feature. Intentionally dropping them was not a decision I condoned. Normally.
His lips found my throat and I lost a few more inhibitions. Skilled touches and a warm tongue explored my ears, lips and collarbone until I nearly melted into a pile of mush.
“Sebastian.” I gripped his jaw in my hands. He groaned and pulled back. “Would you like to come inside?” I didn’t have to ask twice.
He scooped me up, wedding-style, and held me as I unlocked the door. Then he carried me inside, kicking the door shut behind him. I slid down the length of his body until my feet touched the floor. He turned the dead bolt and added the chain. His dark eyes flashed. Sebastian pulled me to him and resumed where he’d left off, kissing the inches of exposed skin on my shoulders, dropping my dress’s shoulder straps expertly.
Murder Comes Ashore Page 19