“What do you want to know?”
“Nothing personal. I mean, only if you want to, and I don’t need . . . want the gory details.” Where was a handy hole when one wanted to slide into it and oblivion?
He chuckled. “Good, because I may have been a coward, but I don’t kiss and tell. I am still a gentleman.”
“It’s just that now she thinks . . . Never mind what she thinks. She has me in her sights.”
“Trust me.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the top. “I never thought that would happen, or I wouldn’t have implied anything.”
Her chest fluttered at his touch. She could only nod.
“I would never do anything to hurt you. Ever.”
Her hand felt warm, safely tucked in his. “I guess I can see why you implied what you did seemed like a good plan at first. She is a strong personality.”
Marc laughed and released her hand.
“What’s so funny? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea how true that is. She can be a piranha when she sets her mind on something, and she did that with me more than once.”
“I just thought if you could give me some backgr—”
“What is it you want to know? How she hunted and stalked me most of my life, trapped me, led me on, and then abruptly left me cold, practically standing at the altar?” He reached for her hand again, but dropped his own into his lap.
Addie’s fluttering heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “No,” she whispered. “Not the demons, just . . . I don’t know, but this isn’t just about you, even though you think it is.” She ignored his twitching lips. “I found something else about her online.” She glanced at him. He appeared to be sulking, and she guessed it was about the comment she’d made about this not all being about him. “I guess . . . I’m wondering if she’s the type of person who would do what they say she did.”
Marc straightened his back. “I’d have to read it to tell you.”
“My laptop’s in the back room.”
“Let’s go.” He swung his long legs to the floor and stood up, his eyes searching her face. “And . . . don’t worry about her befriending Serena. That’s a weapon she’s used most of my life. Befriend the little sister to stay close to the target.”
“And I’m a target now, too, but in the seek-and-destroy category.” Addie headed toward the back room. “Have you talked to Serena about her?”
“Many times, but Lacey is good. Even after she left town abruptly without so much as a goodbye to Serena, which really tore her up, I might add. Serena could never stay angry with her for long. I guess Lacey cast a spell over her at a very young, impressionable age, and Serena would always forgive her, no matter what Lacey did to her.”
“That’s unfortunate. I thought Serena was wiser than that.”
“She is in most everything else, but she’s blinded to Lacey because she made her an idol at a very young age, and Lacey’s used that to easily manipulate her ever since.”
“Yes, I think I saw a bit of that earlier today.”
“So, what are we looking at?” Marc leaned closer to the screen. His phone pinged with a text notification. He pulled it out, looked at it, and put his phone back in his pocket.
“You tell me.” Addie sat back and waited until he finished reading.
He stood up and shook his head. “Yup, sounds like her—especially the last part, using it as a stepping stone. She’s always used people with her flashing bleached smile, saying the right things and being ever so charming. People tend to fall easily into her trap.”
“Is that what happened to you?” She looked up at him.
“And everyone in town. She uses people, then casts them aside when she’s done. I’m glad someone called her out on it.” His phone rang. He tugged it out of his jacket pocket, checked the caller ID, and put it away again.
She searched his face, but it was blank. She shrugged and looked back at the screen. “I just don’t understand why something this newsworthy is buried so far back in the search.”
“The major network referred to probably didn’t want it to get out they had been duped.”
“That makes sense, I guess. The reporter who broke the story was at the UCLA student newspaper at the time, so it was probably easy enough to kill it.”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “Enough of Lacey—she’s not worth it. I was hoping you had some theories on June’s death.” He looked at the blackboard. “But I see where your focus has been today.”
“I was only trying to figure out why Lacey was so bent on making my life miserable. Then that last gossip bit printed, and I was trying to find out if she would have fed Miss Newsy the information about me being at the police station.” She ran her hand down his jacket sleeve. “Honestly, I wasn’t prying into your private life.”
“Actually, you make a good point.” He rocked back on his heels, all cop-like again.
“I do?”
“Yes.” He sat on the edge of the desk and stared at the board. “I wonder after reading that article how far Lacey would really go to destroy your reputation in town.” He scratched his neck.
“But why—just to win you back?”
“Yeah, even that seems too far out. After all, this isn’t high school anymore.”
“I hope she knows that,” Addie mumbled, looking at the computer screen. “Maybe there’s another motive?”
“The only thing I can think of is . . . No, she wouldn’t. Would she?” He looked at Addie.
“What?”
“Search ‘Greyborne-Davenport feud.’”
“What?”
“Just enter it and see what comes up.” He walked around behind her as she typed.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “What’s this?” Addie sat back and took a deep breath. “Wow, this part”—she pointed to the screen—“is a piece of town history I had no idea about.” She continued reading. “It says a British navy warship swooped down on the whole village in the early seventeen hundreds to crush the piracy that ran rampant in the area.”
“Yes, prior to Gerald Greyborne making it a permanent settlement of the Crown. It had already been used by both pirates and legitimate sailors for well over two hundred years as a safe harbor from the sometimes severe Atlantic storms. The way the rock peninsula shelters the area, made it an ideal location for a thriving pirate haven which eventually developed into a small village.”
“It says here that it was a tip from Gerald Greyborne that ultimately led to Henry Davenport’s arrest for committing acts of treason by being in collusion with the pirates. He was tried and then hanged, along with a number of others accused of piracy.” She looked back up at him, her eyes wide. “The hangings took place in the old main square of the Harbor?”
“Yeah, it was devastating to the settlement at the time. The scandal tore the village apart. Some were pro piracy—it made them a lot of money—and others, like Gerald Greyborne, an upstanding sea merchant captain, were not, as it cut into their legitimate business dealings.”
“But would Lacey carry on a grudge that happened three hundred years ago?”
“I don’t like to think so, but”—he shrugged—“you never know. Those wounds ran deep, and the two families were never the same. Some people around here have long memories.”
“Surely,” she said, looking up at him, “not today, though. It’s been a few hundred years.” He bent over her shoulder. His warm breath wafting across the back of her head didn’t go unnoticed by her, and she smiled to herself.
He straightened up. A pang of disappointment struck her. “I’ve often wondered,” he said, “if that’s why Lacey was so headstrong and bent on being successful, having to have the best of everything. You know, to try to alter her family legacy?”
“And you were the best, and she wanted you, too.” She chuckled, minimizing the screen and turning toward him.
“She had big plans for me. Politics.”
“Really?”
“Yup, but
when I joined the police force instead . . . she decided a patrol officer wasn’t good enough for her. She then set her sights on me becoming chief immediately, and when that didn’t happen, she left for Los Angeles.”
“And now you are chief and she’s back.”
“I know that look—what are you thinking?”
“Nothing, really, I’m just trying to figure out how someone could be so shallow and heartless.” She touched his arm, fighting the tears that burned behind her eyes.
“I’m fine, really.” He stroked the back of her hand. “Now, enough of all that. What else did you find?”
“Well,” she said as she turned back to her laptop and maximized another screen, “after reading the story about the feud and the piracy, this makes more sense to me. It’s a paper June published years ago, but I couldn’t find reference to it in her book, The Ghosts and Mysteries of Greyborne Harbor, the one the book club is reviewing now.”
Marc leaned over her shoulder and read. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“Maybe a lot.”
“Come on, you can give me your theories over dinner. I’m starving, and we can’t live off pastries.”
“Sounds good. I’ll put them in the fridge. We can take my car out back. It’s less conspicuous than your cruiser,” she said with a laugh and went to retrieve the pastry platter from the front counter.
“If you’re trying to hide from prying eyes tonight, I know the perfect out-of-the-way place, and you’ll love it, especially after reading about the town’s history of piracy.”
Pastries tucked in the fridge, she grabbed her coat. “Where’s that?”
“It’s out on Smuggler’s Road.” He helped her put on her jacket, his fingers lightly brushing the back of her neck and coming to rest on her shoulders.
Her neck still tingling from his touch, a quiver of excitement raced down her arms. “You’ve got to be kidding?”
His hands didn’t release the gentle hold he had on her. “No.” His warm breath wafted across her cheek, and she closed her eyes. “It’s called the Smuggler’s Den, and it’s allegedly built on the same site as an original smuggler’s haven. They even used some of the old bricks and timbers in the restoration.”
“Really? I can’t wait to see it.” She braced her legs to stop the wobble in her knees and turned around to face him. “Well, there appears to be no shortage of mystery in this town, so all we’re missing from June’s book is the ghosts.” She smiled, but her gaze went not to his eyes, but to his lips, so close to hers.
His thumb stroked the outline of her jaw. “Then you are in for a treat come Founder’s Day Eve.”
“What’s happening then?”
“A wonderful tradition in the village. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Give me a hint as to what to expect.” His touch lingered, and she leaned into his hand.
“Better yet, I’ll show you myself.” He brushed his lips against hers in a whisper-light kiss.
Breathless, she broke the magnetic pull of his lips, her heart beating wildly. “Did you just ask me out on a real date?”
His fingertip lifted her chin, and his lip curled up at the corner. “I guess I did.”
Chapter Nine
“Why haven’t I heard about this place before? I love it.” The rum barrels stacked around the perimeters of the room, the ornately carved bar and counter, the brick archways and floor all oozed history of the illegal activity that once went on inside these walls. She made herself comfortable in a chair repurposed from an old oak barrel and continued scanning the large dining room and bar camouflaging an original pirate’s lair.
“I thought you’d like it,” he grinned at her over his wooden-plank menu, “especially after reading that bit about the important role that piracy played in Greyborne Harbor history.”
“Like it? I love it. This has officially become my new favorite place in the world. It feels so real, it makes me wish I had a parrot.”
He smirked. “The food’s not too bad either. Have you decided what you want yet?”
“I haven’t even looked.” She scrutinized the plates of the customers seated close by. “I don’t know. It all looks so good. What do you suggest?”
A waiter dressed in high boots and breeches and looking every inch a swashbuckling pirate swept past her and placed a platter on the table across the aisle from theirs. Addie’s eyes widened. She waved at the waiter as he turned to leave. “What is that?” Addie motioned toward the lone diner’s plate.
“That, madam, is our rum-n-beer barbecue beef rib, fresh grilled asparagus, and baked potato special. May I tempt you with an order?”
“A beef rib? It looks more like a dinosaur rib.” She held her hand over her rumbling stomach. “Yes, that’s what I’ll have.” She smiled at the salt-and-pepper-haired man hovering over his newly delivered meal. He returned a rather surly glare and began stripping the rib meat from the bone.
“And for you, sir?” The server turned to Marc.
Marc’s cell rang again. He checked the caller, switched it off, and handed the waiter their menus. “Yes, I’ll have the same, thank you.”
The waiter swept into a low bow and left, leaving the surly man open to observation. He set his fork down on the platter, wiped his mouth, and turned his glacial gaze on Addie’s. She shuddered. Marc tapped her foot with his under the table. She jerked and looked at him. He shook his head. She shrugged and began sipping her water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man pick up his fork and begin to eat his meal again.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just so hungry I wasn’t aware I was being rude.”
He muttered something Addie couldn’t make out. She feigned kicking him under the table. He flinched and clutched his leg. She playfully swatted at his hand.
“Okay, okay, you win.” His eyes twinkled in jest, but his foot against hers felt very serious indeed. “You said you had a theory, and now that I’ve brought you to the most inspiring ghost tale environment that there is in the Harbor, let your story begin. I can’t wait to hear what it is.”
“Don’t laugh.” She pouted. “This might be something worth considering.”
“Hit me with it.” He grinned at her over the top of his water glass.
“Well . . .” she said as she shifted in her seat, careful not to dislodge her foot from the comfort of his, “as you know, I was asked to chair the romance book club.”
“I didn’t realize it was a romance book club?” He gently grasped her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.
“And as you know”—her gaze met his, rendering her breathless—“the book they’re reviewing this month is The Ghosts and Mysteries of Greyborne Harbor.”
His eyes held fast on hers. “It’s not exactly a romance novel, is it?” His thumb trailed small circles over the back of her hand. “Unless, of course, there’s a ghostly buxom wench embracing a handsome pirate on the cover.” He winked.
“You only wish.” She smirked and shook her head. “But, from the short conversation I had with Catherine, I believe they are looking to expand their reading interests, and I guess since June was the author and chair and it’s close to Founder’s Day, it seemed like the perfect choice.”
“I see. And so what is this theory of yours, and how could this book be connected to June’s death?”
“Not the book. But maybe something she found out researching it that the town council forbade her to include in the book.”
“What? This is news to me. They actually edited her book?”
“According to Jeanie, there were originally sections in it comprised of the research she had done for years as president of the historical society that they forbade her to include in the finished draft.”
“Can they do that?”
“I guess since they were giving her a grant to write the book, they felt they could. It was something to do with tourism and the good name of the community. Maybe they didn’t want any skeletons exposed.”
Marc
shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense, but I’m going to look into it. Censorship from any government agency, no matter what level, isn’t right.” His brow furrowed. “What was the information they demanded to be removed?”
“I had found an article she wrote some years ago posted in the Boston Public Library’s archives. It was about—”
“Wait, you still have access to the Boston Public Library’s archives?”
“They haven’t deleted my access code yet.” She slid her hand from his and fidgeted with her napkin.
He raised his glass in a salute. “No wonder you can find out all the information you come up with. Most of it isn’t available on the public Internet.”
“Anyway,” she said, grinning at him and clinking her glass to his, “her research was based on the stories of tunnel systems that were constructed during the sixteen hundreds to as late as the eighteen hundreds, underneath what is now the Greyborne Harbor town site.”
“I’ve heard rumors about those my whole life, but I thought they were only legends or myths. Isn’t most of her book based on that, legend and myths?”
“Something I found out as a researcher was that there is usually some reality base to most legends. Some appear to be simply myths because there has never been any hard evidence discovered to prove them true.”
“So you think that June may have found the proof and the town council wanted to suppress it? But why? If it’s true, it’s an important part of local history.”
Addie nodded and glanced at the man seated across from them. He was slowly chewing his meal and staring directly ahead. His eyes flickered sideways. He dropped his head, focusing on his scantly touched food. She frowned and looked back at Marc.
“Well,” he said, “why would the town council want to leave those facts out?”
She glanced back at the man and shifted in her chair. “I’m not really sure. I haven’t read through all her findings yet”—her voice dropped—“but there was a link to a map.”
Prologue to Murder Page 6