“What was that about?” Jason asked as Charlotte moved toward the stairs.
“Nothing. You’ll be in charge of the investigation, since I was on the property when the crime occurred. I’ll oversee things from a distance.” Although he wasn’t sure how much distance he could keep if the heat was turned up on Charlotte. “With the mayor on the warpath, I don’t have to tell you how much pressure we’re going to be feeling in the next few days. Monroe wants someone to pay for this.”
“I hope that won’t be Charlotte,” Jason replied. “Colin told me she was seen upstairs at the time of the crime.”
“According to the housekeeper.”
“You can’t think she had anything to do with this?”
“No—but we need to find another suspect fast.”
Charlotte was not just shaken from the robbery and the sight of Theresa lying in a pool of blood; she was also reeling from Joe’s kiss. A lot had happened since she’d impulsively bolted upstairs. What a bad move that had been.
She reached the foyer, where the party atmosphere had turned to fear and worry. Sheila, Joe’s assistant and a part-time dispatcher, was patting down female guests, while another officer was taking prints and checking bags on the dining-room table.
Her mother was standing in the living room, speaking quite forcefully with Colin. Kara was also there, a soothing expression on her face, but her mother was clearly not interested in being placated.
Monica Adams was a rail-thin, frosted blonde who had a haughty, unhappy look on her thin face, which was pretty much her usual expression. Her mother had long ago deemed herself the queen of Angel’s Bay, or at least of the congregation that Charlotte’s father had served as minister. While Monica was magnificently generous in her charity work, she was also a tough, critical taskmaster. She had no patience for fools and refused to put up with anything she deemed to be unjust, which at this moment appeared to be the investigation.
Charlotte wondered where her mother’s date was. In the past few weeks, Peter Lawson’s presence had made a definite improvement on her mother’s mood and lifted the depression she’d been wearing like a heavy cloak since Charlotte’s father had passed on.
“Where on earth have you been?” her mother demanded as she joined them.
“I went upstairs to see if I could help Theresa,” she said shortly.
“How is she?” Kara asked.
“Unconscious. I don’t know the extent of her injuries.” She returned her gaze to her mother. “What’s the problem?”
“I am not going to allow anyone to search me like a common criminal,” her mother said.
“It’s not a big deal, Mom. The police are just doing their job.”
“It’s the principle, Charlotte. I did not do anything wrong, and I will not be treated as if I did. Honestly, this town used to be a quiet place. But lately there’s been nothing but trouble.”
Charlotte glanced at Colin. Kara’s husband was a big, gentle bear of a guy who could be a tough cop when necessary, but he was also polite and understanding when it came to dealing with people like her mother. “Can she go?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “I just told your mother that she’s free to leave, but her refusal to be searched or fingerprinted will be noted in the report.”
“I don’t need to be searched or fingerprinted, because I didn’t do anything,” Monica said. “Now, I want to leave, Charlotte, and I need a ride.”
“Where’s Mr. Lawson?”
“Peter had to leave just before midnight. His daughter had a problem with her water heater or something. I told him you would take me home.”
“All right. But I do want to cooperate with the investigation, so you’ll have to give me a few minutes.”
Her mother shot her a disgusted look, then took a seat on the sofa, crossing her arms.
“I can’t believe what’s happened,” Kara said, walking with her to the dining room.
“I can’t, either.”
“Charlotte.” Kara put a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Colin said the housekeeper saw you upstairs before the lights went out. I thought you were leaving.”
“The front door was blocked, so I ran up the stairs when the countdown started. Then everything went black.”
“So you didn’t see anything?”
“No. But once again, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Well, everyone knows you’re a good person. You don’t have to worry.”
“I hope not.”
“Andrew was here. He was looking for you, but the police were trying to clear out the party, so he left.”
Relief ran through her. With her lips still tingling from Joe’s kiss, she wasn’t ready to look Andrew in the eye.
“I’d better get my bag so I can take my mother home.” Charlotte moved into the next room, gave a brief statement to the officer, as well as her finger-prints, and allowed her bag and her person to be searched. Then she collected her mother and headed out the door.
It was after 1:00 A.M., and they shivered in the cold as the valet ran to retrieve her car.
Her mother complained most of the way home, but Charlotte barely listened, her mind filled with thoughts about Joe.
She could still feel his hands on her body, his solid chest pressing against her breasts. She’d been thinking about kissing him for months, yet the real thing was so much better than she’d imagined. But now what? Was it the start of something more or just a New Year’s Eve kiss that would mean nothing the next day?
She didn’t even know what she wanted the answer to be. Joe had been forbidden territory since she’d first met him. At the time he’d been an unhappily married man. That wasn’t the case anymore. Rachel had moved out months ago, and their divorce would soon be final. Joe was free to be with whomever he wanted to be with, and he clearly wanted her. She wanted him, too. But she had no idea what kind of a relationship he was looking for or what kind of involvement she wanted. A fling with Joe could easily become more than she was ready for. Look what a simple kiss had turned into. He was a risk she wasn’t sure she could take.
“Charlotte, you’re not listening to me,” her mother scolded.
“Sorry. What did you say?”
“I said what a horrible evening this turned out to be. I never should have gone to that party.”
“You wanted to see the house,” she reminded her.
“True, but it wasn’t as impressive on the inside. Theresa needed a better decorator. She didn’t do a very good job of mixing the old pieces from the Worthington estate with her own furniture. She came off looking pretentious and silly.”
“Seeing as how she’s in the hospital fighting for her life, now might not be the best time to criticize her taste.”
“Well, of course, I feel bad for her,” Monica snapped. “I’ve already asked Andrew to lead a prayer for her at the New Year’s Day service. But I can’t help thinking she brought some of this on herself. She’s been talking all over town about all the wonderful things they bought from the estate. Obviously, she drew the wrong kind of attention.”
“So what happened to Peter again?” Charlotte asked, eager to get her mother onto a new subject.
“His daughter doesn’t like us seeing each other.”
She shot her mother a quick look. “I thought you were just friends.”
“Did I say we were more than that?”
“Well, I can’t imagine why his daughter wouldn’t want him to be friends with you.”
“She’s jealous. She’s divorced and used to someone taking care of her. Now that her husband has left her, she’s constantly seeking her father’s attention. He goes running every time she sees a spider. It’s ridiculous. The woman is in her late thirties.”
“You’re not used to a man who doesn’t put you before all others,” she murmured before she could consider the fallout.
“That’s not true. Your father put the church before me,” her mother replied. “You should know that.”
“Your father made his own decisions.” Her mother sighed with exasperation. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Charlotte. You make it sound like I was some sort of puppet master. That wasn’t the case at all.”
“You like to control things.”
“I like to take care of my family. Everything I ever did was for your father and you kids. My whole life was wrapped up in being a wife and a mother.”
Her mother’s words were meant to make her feel guilty, and for a second, she wavered. Her mother had done a lot for the family, yet her motivation had always seemed to come from a more selfish place. But maybe she wasn’t being fair.
“And you love to control things, too, Charlotte,” her mother added. “Isn’t that the reason there isn’t a man in your life? Because if there was, you’d have to consider someone else’s feelings, include someone else in your decisions, and make compromises. When you’re alone, you have total control over your life, just the way you like it. But one of these days, you’re going to wake up and see just how isolated you are.”
“I’m not alone. I live with you and Annie,” she defended, although her mother’s words hit a little too close to home.
“You should be careful. You’ll get so set in your ways no one will have you. Even Andrew is starting to wonder if you’ll ever give him another chance.”
“I don’t want to talk about Andrew with you.”
“What a surprise.”
“It’s late. Why don’t we just not speak?” she suggested.
“Fine.”
Her mother’s angry silence was almost as bad as her sharp tongue. She was a difficult woman to ignore, but Charlotte tried to do just that.
Glancing out the window, she noted that the downtown area was still lively. Music rang out from the local bars, and boats in the harbor were ablaze with lights and full of people. There were couples making out in the shadows of the old buildings and groups of happy, drunken revelers careening through the streets, making their way home.
A reckless yearning filled her heart, and her mother’s words echoed through her head. She didn’t want to end up alone, but she did have a problem giving up control. Wasn’t that the reason she’d dashed up the stairs at the manor? Because she’d been afraid that she wouldn’t be able to control the situation?
Andrew and Joe were both attractive, both important to her in different ways, but both came with emotional pitfalls. While she might be impulsive in a lot of areas, when it came to love, she didn’t take chances anymore.
It had been far easier to keep love away when she’d been going to medical school, then interning and working seventy hours a week in a residency. Relationships had been short and casual because she was working toward the rest of her life.
Now the rest of her life was here, and she was back in a place filled with family and friends and people she already cared too much about. She should never have stayed this long. Part of her wanted to run right now, to drop her mother off, grab some clothes, and hit the road again. But the other part of her wanted to put down roots, make a home for herself . . . and maybe even let herself fall all the way in love.
Charlotte didn’t head for the hills when she returned home. There was no way she could leave her mother or Annie and her baby in the middle of the night. Instead, she spent the night tossing and turning, reliving the good and bad moments of the evening.
In the good category—make that the stupendously wonderful category—was Joe’s kiss, the warmth of his arms around her, and the sense of inevitability that had come with their embrace. She’d wanted to kiss him since the day she’d met him, and the real thing had been far better than any daydream.
In the bad—make that horrific—category were the housekeeper’s screams, the sight of Theresa lying on the bathroom floor, her blond hair matted with blood, the mayor’s panicked fury, and the accusations he’d hurled at her. It was unthinkable that anyone could believe she would hurt Theresa or steal her jewelry, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more bad to come.
She was relieved when daylight came and she could give up on trying to sleep. She took a quick shower, then threw on black pants and a burgundy sweater over a pink camisole. She applied some light makeup to hide the shadows under her eyes and headed downstairs, hoping the new year would get off to a better start.
Annie was seated at the round kitchen table, a stack of pancakes in front of her, her baby boy, Will, asleep in the baby seat next to her. Almost nineteen now, Annie wore her long blond hair in a braid that reached to her waist. Her skin was rosy pink, and her eyes weren’t as tired or as haunted as they’d been in recent weeks. Will shared Annie’s fair looks, with only a few strands of hair on his otherwise bald head. His eyes, which were sweetly closed at the moment, were a warm gold-flecked brown, the only resemblance he bore to his biological father.
Charlotte had rescued Annie from the streets six months earlier, and a lot had happened since then. Annie had delivered her baby and had had to deal with her own mentally disturbed father and the unsupportive biological father of her baby, Steve Baker. But with Charlotte and Monica’s support, Annie had turned the corner. She was coming into her own, not only as an adult woman but also as a mother. Since deciding to keep her baby, she’d embraced her role as chief caregiver, appreciative of Charlotte and Monica’s support but determined to do most of the work herself.
Annie was one of the reasons Charlotte hadn’t left Angel’s Bay. It had been her idea to rescue Annie and offer her mother’s house as a refuge, so she hadn’t felt she could abandon Annie to her mother. In truth, though, Annie and Monica got along really well, and Monica had made it clear that Annie could stay as long as she wanted.
“Would you like some breakfast?” her mother asked. “I have scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.”
Charlotte smiled at the array of delicious, mouthwatering food. Her mother had always been a fantastic cook, and a good, hearty breakfast had been a tradition as long as she could remember. So many things in their lives had changed, but not breakfast, and she was grateful for that.
“I’ll have a little of everything,” she said as her mother fixed her a plate.
She moved to the table to say good morning to Will. He was just starting to wake up, his eyelids flickering, his little mouth scrunching into a pucker of sweet drooling bubbles. Her heart melted every time she saw him.
For a long time, she’d told herself that having kids wasn’t in her future. She’d lost a baby as a teenager, and she’d never really moved past that loss. But little Will was making her want to reconsider that stance. He was such an adorable angel. Who wouldn’t want one of these? Then again, if she could love this kid this much and he wasn’t even hers, what would it be like to have a baby of her own? She’d spend the rest of her life worried about every breath he took, afraid that something terrible would happen, and she’d never recover.
She knew it was an irrational fear, and it was ironic since her job was bringing babies into the world. But emotionally, she’d always been mixed up on the subject.
Will began to cry. “Looks like he’s hungry,” Annie said. “I’ll get his bottle.”
Charlotte unsnapped the safety strap and picked him up. He squirmed and kicked his little legs against her, crying a little. She distracted him by making silly faces, delighted when he reacted with a smile. She rubbed her nose against his as his little hands managed to grab a couple of strands of her hair.
“He loves hair,” Annie said, putting the bottle on the table. She reached for Will, gently disentangling his fingers from Charlotte’s hair. Then she sat down and cradled Will in her arms, giving him the bottle he eagerly took. Immediately, his little hand reached for Annie’s hair, pulling at a few tendrils that had come loose from her braid.
Charlotte watched them for a few moments, notin
g how confident Annie was now. “He’s getting so big.”
“They grow fast,” Monica agreed, handing Charlotte her plate. “You’re not going to wear pants to church, are you?”
“It’s cold outside.”
“So wear boots. It’s not like you don’t have good legs,” Monica continued. “You get those from me. My mother was all legs, and she wore the highest heels. I remember trying her on stilettos when I was a little girl. I couldn’t imagine how she walked in those things.”
“I wish I could remember Gran,” Charlotte said wistfully. From all the stories she’d heard, her grandmother had been a very interesting woman, not nearly as straitlaced as her mother.
“Do you want coffee?” her mother asked.
“I can get it. Why don’t you sit down and eat?”
“I ate hours ago.”
She was surprised. “You were up that early? I thought you might sleep in after our late night.”
“I didn’t get much sleep after all that chaos,” her mother said, moving back to the sink to rinse the pans. “It was very disturbing. I hope Theresa recovers.”
“So do I. How was your evening, Annie?”
“Not nearly as exciting as yours. Diana and I made popcorn and watched television with her parents. The babies mostly slept.”
“It’s nice that you and Diana have become friends.” Diana was twenty-two years old, living with her parents while her husband was serving in the Navy overseas.
“I’m grateful to Reverend Schilling for introducing us,” Annie said. “It’s nice to be around another young mother. Oh, and Diana wrote to her husband about Jamie, and guess what—they actually met about a month ago! Some joint-force thing with the Navy and the Marines.”
“It is a small world,” Charlotte picked up a piece of bacon to munch on. Her younger brother was somewhere in the Middle East, and while he e-mailed as often as he could, he was always vague about where he was and what he was doing.
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