Prologue to Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  “What? You mean you were trying to lose me?” He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?” He gently pulled her toward him. Her racing heart jumped to her throat. She gulped and stiffened her uncooperative knees, a common occurrence whenever he touched her or was close. His hand swept strands of hair from her face and tilted it up. She tried to speak, but before she could make a sound, he kissed the tip of her nose and then rested his forehead on hers. His body stiffened. She frowned and looked up at him, but his narrowed gaze looked past her.

  “Did you forget to lock the door when you left this morning?” His hands slid to her shoulders, holding them firm.

  “I don’t think so. Why?” She followed his gaze to her front door, noticing it was open by a crack.

  He pushed her behind him. “Get in my car, now.” Drawing his gun, he called for backup on his radio and edged the door wide open, pulling his flashlight from his belt and disappearing into the darkened foyer.

  Numb, Addie sat in the front seat of his patrol car. It wasn’t long before two more police cars arrived and four officers jumped out, guns drawn. Two separated and went in opposite directions around the house. The other two entered the door and disappeared. Their entire arrival on the scene was like watching well-rehearsed stage choreography and was over in seconds. She scrubbed her hands over her face and opened the window, straining to hear any sounds. Time ticked on. She checked her cell and fidgeted with it, dropping it to the floor. She reached down to retrieve it, sat back up, and shrieked. Marc’s face was at the window. She patted her pounding chest.

  “All clear. You can come in now.” He opened the door and pulled her to her feet.

  “What happened? Was my house broken into?”

  “Not that we can see. Nothing appears out of the ordinary.” His softening brown eyes reassured her, but then his fingers tightened on her shoulders. “I think that you may just have forgotten to press the arm button on the alarm and lock the door when you left for work today.”

  “No, I remember putting in the code.”

  “The yellow standby light was flashing.”

  With quick steps, she intersected a group of four officers as she strode into her foyer. It hurt to smile when everything inside her wanted to scream. “Thanks, guys. Sorry, it was a false alarm. My mistake, I guess.” Entering the living room, she switched on the table lamp and froze. “Marc!” she shouted. “Marc.”

  She sensed his presence before he could reply, and she pointed to the coffee table.

  He squinted at the table. “What is it I’m looking at?”

  “It’s what you’re not looking at.” She scanned the room. “It’s gone.”

  “Care to give me a hint?”

  “June’s notes. The ones that Jeanie gave me. They were right there in a box, where I left them. Now they’re not.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t take them into the kitchen or upstairs or put them in your desk?”

  She rummaged through the desk and shook her head. “Nope, I’m positive. I left them there after Serena and I looked at them. I didn’t even make it upstairs to bed. I slept . . .”

  “Where?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “But I didn’t go upstairs till this morning, and I was running late. The notes were the last thing on my mind, so they have to have still been there this morning.”

  “Well, you did forget to arm and lock the door.”

  “That’s not fair.” She planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “So I put in the code and forgot to press arm.” She continued to glower at him. “Aha! I do remember now locking the door when I went out, because I dropped my keys and hit my head on the handle when I stood back up. See, I have a bump right here.” She pointed to top of her head. “Wanna feel it?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I would like you to indulge me and satisfy my cop curiosity by checking the rest of the house before we jump to conclusions and I send my officers on another wild goose chase.” He took her hand. “Let’s check the kitchen first.”

  They stepped out into the hall. Jerry snapped his notebook shut. “Is there anything else before we go, Chief?”

  “Could you dust the coffee table for prints?”

  “No problem.” He picked up his evidence case.

  “And did you dust the door outside and in?”

  Jerry nodded. “There were a lot of smeared prints, but I did manage to get a couple of clearer ones. I’ll run them when I get back.”

  “Sounds good,” Marc called over his shoulder and followed Addie to the kitchen.

  She stopped in the doorway and made a sweeping motion. “See? Not here. It’ll be the same thing upstairs.” She spun on her heel and went back down the hall to the staircase. She stood at the bottom, waiting for Marc to catch up as he popped his head into the dining room and library on his way past.

  “Better to check now than to find a surprise later.”

  She froze at his tone, but ignored it and headed up the stairs. “See?” She crossed her arms at the top of the staircase. “I told you.”

  “I guess that’s why I’m the cop and you’re not.” He swept past her down the stairs.

  “Excuse me? What does that mean?” She followed close behind.

  He spun around at the bottom, catching her off guard, and she teetered into him. He grasped her shoulders. “I need facts and proof, and you—”

  “I do what?” She balled her hands into fists at her sides.

  “You jump to conclusions based on outlandish theories with no evidence to support them.”

  “All my theories are based on some sort of proof. You’re just too pigheaded to see it.” She pushed by him and headed into the living room. “What more proof do you want aside from the fact that the box is missing? And if it’s indisputable proof you want regarding what I’ve been saying about the tunnels”—she fished a paper from her handbag and shoved it at him—“here it is.”

  “What’s this?”

  “All I have left from the box. I took the map with me when Paige and I went for lunch today. I guess it was a good thing I did, since most of my other proof is gone. Well, except for what’s on the Internet. But just take a close look at it. You’ll see what I’ve been talking about—the tunnels, the landmarks. It’s all on there.”

  Marc sagged onto the sofa, his eyes focused on the map he held. Then he looked up at her, his eyes creased at the corners. “But didn’t you say that Jeanie dropped the box off this morning?”

  “Yes, first thing. Why?”

  He leaned back, stroked his chin, and then sat forward. “Sit down.”

  “Okay, what’s up?”

  He turned to her and clasped her hands in his, stroking the backs of them with his thumbs.

  “Well?” She glanced down at his hands and sucked in a shallow breath.

  “Well,” he continued, gently stroking her hands, “last night was a late one.” He cleared his throat. “I was here, and Serena, and then a whole lot happened today.”

  “Yes?”

  He grasped her hands. “But if Jeanie didn’t give you the box until today?”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “ Then . . . then . . .”

  “Then it wasn’t ever here in my house.”

  He nodded, giving her fingers a light squeeze.

  “Oh my God.” She sat back. “I’m losing my mind.”

  “No, you aren’t.” He placed his arm around her shoulder. “There’s been a lot happening lately, and if you didn’t sleep well last night, and then after today, well, with all that happened, it’s just—”

  “Just what?”

  “Understandable, that’s all. You can rest assured the box is safe and sound in your shop tonight.”

  She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I just can’t believe how stupidly I’ve been behaving. Insisting it was here and I’d been broken into.” She sobbed. “God, I am losing it.”

  “No, you’re not. It makes you human. We all have memory lapses w
hen we’re stressed.”

  “I’m not stressed, darn it.”

  He chuckled and pulled her closer. “Okay, whatever you say.”

  She threw her head back against the sofa. “Just great. Your guys are going to find out about my stupidity, and then I’ll be known around town, aside from everything else they’re already saying, as the crazy book lady.”

  He kissed her cheek and nestled her head into his neck with his hand. His cell screamed the emergency call ringtone. He looked at it and leapt to his feet. “Not the crazy book lady. If anything, the crazy psychic lady. Let’s go.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Your shop’s just been broken into.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Addie cringed at the sound of crunching glass under her protective shoe coverings. She stepped gingerly into her shop, but the grating noise in her ears didn’t stop there. The entire entrance and storefront lay strewn with shards and beads of glistening crystals that had once been her front door—a good reminder for her that regardless of the extra cost she had incurred having it installed after her last break-in, there really was no such thing as unbreakable glass if someone wanted to get in badly enough.

  Jerry’s head snapped up from his notebook. “Evening again, Miss Greyborne.” He tipped his cap. “Feels like déjà vu, doesn’t it?” He smiled, his eyes holding a glimmer of amusement, and then he looked sideways at Marc, who shot him a piercing glance. Jerry’s jaw tensed. “Evening, Chief.”

  “Yes, it does, Jerry.” Addie shot an equally stabbing look back at Marc. “It feels like not so long ago that we were all in a similar situation.”

  Marc walked over and stood in front of Jerry, ignoring her. “What have you got?”

  Jerry pushed his cap back. “Well, Chief . . .” he began, his eyes dropping to his notebook, “the alarm came in at ten thirty-three, and myself and Daniels were the first on scene at ten thirty-eight—”

  “Wait, it took you five minutes to respond on a quiet night? The station is right down the street.”

  “Yes, sir. But we were grabbing some coffee at the gas station down in the Harbor district when the call came in.”

  Marc scowled.

  “Anyway,” Jerry continued, returning to his notes, “Lewiston and Colburn arrived about thirty seconds later. They’re still out searching the street.”

  Addie turned and peered out the now-glass-free window on her door and spotted one of them rummaging through the garbage can across the road. A beam of light danced in the park behind him. She assumed it was the other officer. They must be the same ones who, only a short time ago, had stood in her foyer, investigating a break-in that hadn’t yet occurred. She shivered. Jerry’s easy, drawling East Coast accent brought her back to the conversation.

  “The perp had less than five minutes in the store before we pulled up. There were no signs then of anyone around. So whoever it was got in and out fast. They knew what they were looking for.”

  “Notice anything missing?” Marc turned to her.

  Her gaze fell onto the countertop, and she nodded.

  “The box?”

  She sucked in a breath and whispered, “Yes.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jerry said, dropping his notepad to his side, “another box? You had more than one that somebody would commit two break-ins in one day for?”

  She looked helplessly at Marc.

  “We’re not sure,” Marc jumped in, and he glanced at Addie, a slight smile creasing the corners of his lips. “Miss Greyborne, as you know, has a high inventory of valuable documents and books in her personal collection. She’ll need time to figure out if one or two boxes are in question now.”

  Jerry nodded and scribbled in his notepad. “Well, I’ll take some photos of the rear door to see if they left that way and dust the shop for prints. Anything else, Chief ?”

  Marc shook his head. “Carry on. I’ll lift what I can off the larger glass bits.”

  “Then if you’ll excuse me, miss.” He tipped his cap.

  She smiled and then looked at Marc. A sense of gratitude and relief swept through her. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I didn’t want him to know I lost my mind earlier on top of everything else.”

  “Here, let’s have some coffee. It’s going to be a while till I’m done, and then I’ll drive you home.”

  She took the steaming cup from his fingers and slid onto a counter stool. Marc went about his business of, well, being a super cop, and she smiled to herself. He might be many things and confusing as heck sometimes, but tonight he helped her save face. A sense of pride and something else she couldn’t place raced through her. She gazed at him hunched over the shattered glass shards, probing at them with his pen, and then it hit her, and her chest heaved. She actually had come to care for him. After David’s untimely death, she was developing feelings that she had thought she would never have again.

  Jerry stuck his head out of the back room door and called, “Chief,” and she jumped. Again, she had been focusing only on Marc and had forgotten that Jerry was even there. “Forgot to tell you that when I checked the lock mechanism on the Greyborne house, it did show signs of having been jimmied, and this one back here does, too, although it doesn’t look like they were successful. Could be why the perps smashed the front door.”

  “Well.” Marc looked into her strained face. “That puts a whole new spin on things, doesn’t it?”

  She blew out a deep breath and nodded.

  Marc turned back to Jerry. “Did you make a mold of the lock at the house?”

  “Yes, Chief. Brewster’s working on that now. I’ll get this one over to her straightaway. The casting might help us figure out what tool was used on them and lead to where it was purchased anyway.”

  “Good. Let me know when you hear anything.” Marc turned back to the glass shards, then looked up at the door, then back at Addie. “Do you remember anything else being in that box that would be so sought after someone would commit two break-ins in a matter of a few hours?”

  She shook her head. “I told you, I only happened to have a map with me. Everything else on quick glance appeared to be her early research notes. I didn’t notice anything remarkable, only dates and a few names of locals from that era. I was hoping her original manuscript, the one Jeanie mentioned to me that the town council rejected, would be in there, but it wasn’t.”

  “Hmmm.” He chewed his bottom lip.

  She stifled a laugh, and he looked at her. “What?”

  “I see my lip-biting habit is contagious.”

  “Spending too much time with you, that’s all.”

  Her face tensed. His voice sounded so matter-of-fact Addie didn’t know what to make of his remark. But the pain in her chest told her he had struck a nerve.

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” His lips twitched. “I meant that—”

  She waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

  He turned back to the evidence on the floor and then glanced over his shoulder at her. A tiny smile touched his lips. She straightened her back and pasted the most detached look she could muster across her face, doing her best to return the smile. She knew she shouldn’t take him literally. He was working, and when he worked, he turned into Rambo, cold and calculating. But the memory of his touch on her face, on her lips, burned strong and tugged at her heart, and she had to admit that him saying what he did, even if meant in jest, did come as a jolt.

  The hands on the wall clock above the counter slowly ticked forward, but time seemed to have stood still. An ache crawled up the back of Addie’s neck and made itself at home at the base of her skull. She laid her forehead on the cool countertop, and then a hand jostled her shoulder. “Addie, wake up,” came a soft voice. “I’ll drive you home now.”

  “Marc?” She raised her head and wiped drool from her lips. “Did I fall asleep?” Her eyes flew to the clock hands. “Three a.m.? My God, I’ve slept for hours.” She jumped up, her right foot numb, and she wavered.

  “Come on, the
re you go. Take a minute to wake up.” His hands gently rubbed up and down her upper arms as he steadied her.

  Her eyes scanned her surroundings. The glass bits had been cleared, there was now a sheet of plywood over the damaged door, and the shop was completely silent, except for the sound of blood rushing through her ears. She looked up at him. Questions filled her eyes.

  “You did sleep awhile—and has anyone told you that you do snore a bit?”

  “I do not.” She slapped his chest.

  “Yes, you do. Even with all of Brian’s commotion going on securing the door. You didn’t even flinch or miss a note.” He laughed.

  “That’s impossible.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, willing herself back to consciousness. “Did you finish? Did you find any clues?” Her eyes met his dulled brown ones. “Oh, dear.” Her finger traced the dark circles under his eyes. “We’d better get you to bed and soon by the look of it.” He leaned his forehead against hers. His breath trailed across her cheek, caressing her face. She felt a flush creep up her neck and tried to pull away, but within seconds, his lips were on hers. She let out a wobbly breath. “Oh, David.” His lips froze. She opened her eyes. The look on his face told her everything. Her words hadn’t just been in her mind. She’d actually uttered them. He turned on his heel.

  “Marc,” she cried, “wait.” Tears burned her eyes, and she swallowed hard to dismiss the acid taste growing in the back of her throat.

  She inhaled, needing to relieve the pressure building inside her chest, but his face had said it all. She knew there were no words that could ever erase that split second. His reply to her was the sound of the back door slamming behind him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Addie hovered at the back of the church. She pressed herself hard against the wall, wishing she could disappear through it. Many of the locals frowned when they saw her attending June’s service, but worst of all, she knew she’d also see Marc here today. How would she react? Worse, how would he? Her throat tightened when she spotted him edging his way in front of the people sitting in the rear pew of the small chapel. He settled into the last remaining space, directly in front of her, between Lacey and Serena.