by V. K. Sykes
Micah knew she’d done the impressive reno herself, including the plumbing.
Fitz pointed at the vanity. “The Vicodin was right there beside the liquid soap. I haven’t moved it since I got it from the pharmacy two days ago. I won’t take them at the boatyard, so I just down one in the morning and another as soon as I get home.”
“Anything else gone from the bathroom? Any other meds?”
Fitz shook her head. “Nothing. I was hoping to stop the Vicodin tomorrow, even though the doctor gave me enough for a couple of weeks. It’s making me a little dopey, and I’ve been worried I might do something really dumb at work.”
“Okay, what else is missing? Any cash or jewelry?”
“I don’t keep cash in the house, and I’m not exactly the Bling Queen of Seashell Bay, Micah. There isn’t a damn thing worth stealing. I’ve got better things to spend my money on than that,” she said in a dry tone.
Micah couldn’t recall seeing her wearing any jewelry. And her watch was a Timex with a leather strap. “Like fixing up the place, right? You’re doing a great job.”
She gave him a tiny smile, then slid across the hall to the bedroom. It too had been updated. Blue paint, white roman shades, a sturdy-looking ceiling fan, and some coastal artwork. And a big sleigh bed with matching dresser, no doubt bought secondhand, from the looks of the worn and chipped surfaces.
But unlike the living room and bath, the bedroom was a mess. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, and the drawers from a small nightstand were upended on the bed. Micah glanced at the scattered piles of panties, bras, camisoles, and a single red thong, and then shifted his gaze back to Fitz, who had reddened slightly but shrugged.
“Obviously, he rifled through all those drawers.” She pointed to the dresser. “Tossed my things around pretty good. I don’t know whether he took anything or not. I don’t count my damn underwear.”
“Did he muck around in your kitchen cupboards too? People usually keep some spare cash there or in the bedroom.”
“Yeah, a bunch of the doors were open, but he didn’t make much of a mess there.” Fitz started to look a bit queasy. “God, maybe he’s one of those perverts who like to mess with women’s underwear. I’ve read about creeps like that.” Then she blew out a sigh. “But I guess I’m just being paranoid, right?”
He gave her sympathetic smile. “A bit. Try not to read too much into it, Fitz. I’m sure this guy was looking for cash and drugs. There’s a pretty good market out there for opioids like hydrocodone and fentanyl.”
While he cautioned himself to resist coming to conclusions before he even started his investigation, Micah’s immediate feeling was that it might very well be a kid looking for a free high, not somebody trying to sell the stolen drugs. If money were the thief’s primary objective, he would have passed on a house like this. There certainly were more inviting targets on the island than Fitz’s run-down-looking cottage.
His gut told him somebody might have found out she had a Vicodin prescription and decided to make an easy score while she was at work. Probably knew she was one of a multitude of islanders who never locked their doors.
“When I think about some dirtbag putting his grubby hands all over my clothes, especially my underwear…” Fitz’s eyes started to tear up. “I think I’m going to have to throw it all out. Every single thing.”
Micah got it. Burglary victims always felt violated, and when they knew the thief had handled personal things like intimate clothing, many reacted just like Fitz.
“I hear you, and I’m sorry.” He gave her shoulder a brief, comforting squeeze. “Now, who else knew you were taking Vicodin?”
“Well, I told Mike, just in case… you know, uh, he had a problem letting me keep working while I was on it.”
That was her boss, Mike O’Hanlon. “Smart. Good for you.”
She managed a smile. “And I told Jessie.”
And that would be Jessie Jameson, another O’Hanlon’s employee who was also one of the island’s EMTs. Jessie would be about the last person Micah would suspect of committing a crime.
“Just those two,” Fitz added with a frown.
Micah started back toward the living room. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave everything as it is for the moment. I’m going to see if I can get a crime scene team out here. I’m not real optimistic about that, but I’m going to try. In the meantime, I’ll get my camera out of the car and take some pictures.”
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe I’ll ask Jessie if I can bunk in with her tonight. I’m not feeling too good about being here right now.” Her lip trembled slightly.
“I’m really sorry you have to go through this,” Micah said, grimacing.
“Not your fault,” she said. “I just hope you catch the bastard.”
“I will,” he said firmly, more to give her a sense of reassurance than anything else. Petty thefts like this one were notoriously hard to solve.
He strode out to his cruiser, struggling to tamp down his anger. Fitz was a capable young woman doing her best to hold it together, but the look in her eyes and the tremor in her voice signaled how much the break-in had rattled her. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of responsibility for that—not so much in his head as in his gut.
There wasn’t supposed to be any crime in Seashell Bay, especially nasty break-ins in broad daylight. There wasn’t supposed to be a frightened young woman who now might wonder if her home would ever be truly safe again. Because once that sense of personal security was shattered, Micah knew it was hard to get it back.
And of course, news of the burglary would spread across the island like a bolt of lightning. Everybody would be asking him questions, offering advice, and freely promoting their theories about the perpetrator, expecting him to apprehend the asshole in short order. And everybody would be hoping that it would be a single isolated incident that would never be repeated.
Micah hoped so too. As much as he welcomed the chance to do some real police work, he hated the idea that any other woman—or man—on the island would have to suffer such a personal violation, or come under any kind of threat. And when he thought about that disturbing prospect, one woman was front and center in his mind.
Holly Tyler, who’d seen enough trouble and heartache to last a lifetime.
Chapter 3
Lily, this place is amazing,” Holly said, as she took in the high-end kitchen. She’d never been inside Aiden and Lily’s new home, although the renovated Victorian was hardly “new.” In fact, it had been in Aiden’s family for generations.
Aiden’s dad had moved into a tidy, brand-new cottage Aiden had built for him, and then Aiden and Lily renovated the much larger Flynn family home. Holly had been impressed from the moment she walked in the door. They’d stripped the old kitchen down to the studs and redesigned it with high-end white cabinetry and a huge, granite-topped center island. But it still retained an old-fashioned, homey appeal with lacy white curtains and the beautiful antique china that had belonged to Aiden’s mom lovingly displayed in the new cabinets.
Holly, Lily, and Morgan worked at the center island on salad and fixings for barbecued burgers. In recognition of Holly’s stressful day, Lily had assigned her the least challenging task of slicing the tomatoes.
The way she was feeling, even that was almost too much.
Holly was not just tired but heartsick over the depressing financial situation at the store. She’d even thought of bailing on dinner, but she’d only seen Morgan and Ryan once in the last year, and Lily and Aiden not at all. Lily had planned the dinner as a joyful celebration of her long-overdue visit. She just had to suck it up and try not to kill the mood.
“Now we can finally talk,” Morgan said as she expertly sliced a zucchini into a large wooden salad bowl.
After Micah arrived with his startling news, all they’d talked about was the break-in at Enid Fitzsimmons’s house. Everybody had been a little shocked, though Aiden was right when he said that the island was changing and people had to ge
t smart about locking their doors. Holly had been on her aunts about that for years, but they had never taken the threat seriously. Yes, Seashell Bay had always been a gentle, safe place, but with more tourists and day-trippers every year, and with a big new resort soon to open, the future was less predictable. Maybe this break-in would finally jolt Florence and Beatrice out of their complacent attitude toward security.
After they’d exhausted that unpleasant topic and the guys had started to drone on about baseball, Lily had rolled her eyes and declared it time for the three manly men to head outside and get the grill going. A glance out the window told Holly that they were now happily drinking beer and shooting the breeze as Aiden cleaned the barbecue.
“Talk about what?” Holly asked. She was fairly certain that burgers weren’t the only things about to get a grilling tonight.
Lily finally looked up from ripping romaine lettuce into bite-sized pieces. “About whether you really want to be doing this, of course.”
“Going to New York,” Morgan added unnecessarily.
Holly stifled a sigh. “You both probably think it’s insane to leave such a good firm and start a brand-new one. Well, hey, I do too.” Truth be told, she’d been close to a nervous wreck since the day she’d said yes. “It’s not like I went looking for this opportunity. But I’ve always wanted to start my own firm, and my gut tells me that if I don’t grab this chance, I’ll probably second-guess myself for the rest of my life.”
It wasn’t like she enjoyed taking risks. In fact, she pretty much loathed it. Making the decision to leave the security blanket of her Boston firm had been hell, and she’d spent weeks analyzing the pros and cons before finally signaling to her prospective partners that she was willing to accept their invitation to start up in New York. It was almost a miracle that they’d chosen to offer her an equal share of a company that had a chance to become a significant player in the industry. She simply couldn’t pass up such an opportunity, even if it was a huge leap into the unknown.
“Not to be too grossly selfish,” Lily said, “but it’s pretty tough to think about you moving farther away from us. You didn’t even make it home all that much when you were a ninety-minute drive away, so what’s it going to be like when you move to Manhattan?”
Holly waved her paring knife. “Hey, it’s not the West Coast, guys. I’ll only be five or six hours away by car, or about an hour by plane. And I’ll have more control over my life when I’m running my own company, so I might be able to get home more. Besides, it’ll be awesome when you guys come visit me there. We’ll go to Broadway plays and the fabulous museums and the best restaurants in the whole country.”
Morgan said, “That all sounds fabulous, but we’re worried that you’re trying too hard to convince yourself.”
When Holly opened her mouth to protest, Morgan held up a hand. “Sweetie, just don’t let your new partners pressure you into doing something you’re not completely sure is right for you. That’s all we’re saying.”
“I won’t, but I am committed to it.” She was certain of that, though there were a ton of issues still to be worked out. That was why she had to be in New York as soon as possible.
Morgan waggled her eyebrows as she slid the last of the zucchini into the bowl. “Apparently not so committed that you’ve given your notice in Boston.”
That was part of the strategy, not indecision on Holly’s part. Her new partners, Cory and David, would work on getting commitments from existing clients before leaving their current firms. That rather sneaky part hadn’t sat terribly well with Holly, but to the guys it was a deal-breaker. Fortunately, none of them had noncompete clauses in their contracts. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “But that’ll come at the appropriate time.”
Lily wiped her hands on her apron, looking thoughtful. “Holly, is there something else pushing you to make this jump? Something you haven’t wanted to talk about?”
“Is it about being close to Jackson?” Morgan asked. “Nobody could blame you for wanting that.” She paused just a second too long. “I guess.”
Both of her pals knew full well that Holly and Jackson Leigh had a relationship that wasn’t much deeper than a topcoat of nail polish. But she was looking forward to living in the same city as the man she’d been intermittently seeing for almost two years. Jackson was handsome and rich and fun—well, usually fun—and he never pressured her. He just wanted to have a good time whenever they were together, and Holly was down with that. Jackson and her husband were opposites in almost every way, and that was one of the reasons she’d been attracted to him. That Jackson was nothing at all like Drew made it impossible to draw comparisons between them.
Because deep in her heart, she was afraid that no one could ever measure up to Drew.
It was time to fess up. Holly put down the knife and leaned against the countertop. “Honestly, guys, it’s as much about leaving Boston as it is going to New York. The truth is that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with my stomach clenching and my eyes getting watery every time I see or do something that reminds me of Drew. And in Boston, about a million things do that.”
Morgan grimaced. “Like Fenway Park.”
Drew, a devoted baseball fan, had dragged Holly to many a Red Sox game, and Morgan had gone with them once too. Despite Holly’s general aversion to professional sports, she’d always ended up having fun at Fenway because of Drew’s knowledge, passion, and gentle humor. Now she was sure she could never go back there. Just passing by it was bad enough.
“Yes, and like cycling along the Charles,” Holly said, her throat tight. “And strolling through the Common after dinner, and having a quiet Sunday morning coffee at the Wired Puppy. I can’t do any of those things anymore. Whenever I try, it makes me feel like my life is over.”
When her friends exchanged concerned glances, Holly rushed to fill the awkward silence. “Look, I know it’s stupid to think that way. Drew spent way more time at Fort Campbell and on deployment than he ever did in Boston. It’s just that… well, it was our home. The only home we ever had together. I still see him everywhere, and I don’t think that’ll ever change. I kept telling myself it would get better. That eventually all the good memories would push the pain deep enough to…” She didn’t quite know how to finish, since her thoughts kept getting tangled up in her emotions.
Her friends waited patiently.
“I just can’t be there anymore,” she finally said.
Lily nodded, her eyes brimming with sympathy and sadness. “I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I were in your shoes.”
“Me too,” Morgan said. “Sometimes it still hurts to be at the inn, because I see Dad everywhere there. I can’t even imagine what it would be like if I ever lost Ryan.”
“Getting away does make sense,” Lily said. “We just hoped you’d be heading north, not south.”
Holly sighed. “In a perfect world—where I could transport my career anywhere I wanted—I’d rather be here with you guys than anywhere else on Earth. You know how much I envy you both.” She stole a quick glance through the kitchen windows at Aiden and Ryan chatting around the monster barbecue, now belching smoke. “Especially now that you’ve hooked up with two of the hottest guys on the planet. Way to overachieve, guys.”
Morgan reached across and gave Holly’s hand a little squeeze. “Dare I say that Aiden and Ryan aren’t the only superhot dudes in this little corner of the world? If you ever get tired of Jackson, you might want to cast your eyes closer to home. You never know what could happen if you did.” She arched her brows, nodding toward the window.
“You know all the reasons it can’t happen with Micah,” Holly said firmly. “My career. His career.” And there were other reasons too.
“Yes, yes, and the one-in-a-million chance that he could get himself shot on the job,” Morgan said, obviously reading her mind. “Even though that’s about as likely as him getting hit by a bus crossing Island Road.”
Holly couldn’t help laughing. There had never been a
bus in Seashell Bay.
Lily wasn’t laughing though. “I get that you don’t want to risk falling in love with a man who puts himself in harm’s way, but you know Micah’s almost more of a social worker than a cop.”
Holly gave her head a decisive shake. “That might be true now, but will he spend the rest of his life here? Anyway, it’s fruitless to talk about it. I do love Micah, but not in that way. You guys know that.”
When Lily shot Morgan an amused glance, Holly had to clamp down on a little spurt of irritation.
“Do we know that?” Lily asked Morgan.
Morgan cut Holly a sly grin. “All I know is you practically melted when he strolled up to us at the dock today, and I sure can’t blame you. Our Deputy Dawg gets hotter with every passing day.”
Well, of course he was hot, and of course she lusted after Micah. A woman would have to be comatose not to. And while her heart might still feel locked in ice, Holly’s body surely did not. But she intended to continue to keep an iron grip on those dangerous urges, just like she’d done last summer. While it was absolutely clear that Micah wanted her, she wouldn’t risk destroying their friendship with some doomed summer fling—however wickedly tempting sex with Deputy Lancaster might be.
“Holly looks fantastic, huh?” Ryan said. “Pretty amazing, considering all that’s going on.”
“Hot as ever,” Aiden chimed in as he scrubbed the grill with a wire brush.
Unbelievably gorgeous, as always, Micah thought but didn’t say. “Yeah, but you can see how worried she is about Florence. She always keeps up a brave front, but we know her too well.”
“And according to Morgan, she’s been on edge for months about that career move,” Ryan said. “I can’t say as I blame her. Leaving a well-established firm like hers to start a new one from scratch? That takes some balls, man. And on top of that, she’s moving to frigging New York.”
“Yeah, well, the first I heard of any of that was less than an hour ago,” Micah said, trying not to sound frustrated. Holly’s girl buddies had clearly known about her plans but had kept their mouths shut—other than telling Aiden and Ryan, obviously. “At least she’ll be in the same city as her boyfriend now.”