See You at Sunset

by V. K. Sykes

  Aiden glanced up and gave him a wry smile. “I’m not sure that factor had anything to do with her decision.”

  “Yeah?” He hoped he didn’t sound overly curious. Micah told himself he shouldn’t care one way or the other about Holly’s relationship status. Too bad he did. A lot.

  “Aiden’s right,” Ryan said. “That’s the vibe Morgan gets, anyway. Holly never talks about the dude being part of the reason why she’s moving. But, hey, one way or the other, it shouldn’t stop you from making a move. If that’s what you want.”

  Micah mentally sighed as he looked away to gaze at the ocean view. Apparently, everyone on the damn island knew he had it bad for pretty Miss Holly Tyler.

  “Hell, when it comes to Holly, I’m not sure what I want,” he finally said.

  While that sounded lame, it was the truth. In his gut, Micah knew he wanted to be with Holly like he wanted to keep breathing. But he didn’t want to wreck a friendship, and he sure as hell didn’t want the sting of her rejection either. Actually, sting was way too weak a word. Micah knew that if she pushed him away for good, it would be a body blow—which was why he couldn’t let her get into his head like he had last summer. No, this time he’d play it cool. Try to act like nothing much had changed from the time when they were just friends.

  Because they were just friends.

  “Dude,” Ryan said, “don’t be an idiot. She’s sweet, and she’s smoking hot. Who cares about her lame-ass boyfriend? What are you waiting for?”

  Micah shrugged. “I wish that was all there was to it, man. You know Holly’s always wanted a different kind of life. For her, the island is a great place to kick back once a year and get all nostalgic for a while, but it’s not home. It hasn’t been home for a long time.”

  Ryan shrugged. “You never know. After I enlisted, I never thought I’d come back to this place. In fact, I’d be in Texas now if it hadn’t been for Morgan. And believe me, I thought about that a fair bit as we slogged through that last crappy winter.”

  That was total bullshit. Ryan was so head over heels in love with Morgan that it would take an invasion force to drag him off the island now. “I know. And that city boy came back too,” Micah said, pointing at Aiden, “even though I thought we’d gotten rid of him forever.”

  Aiden snorted. “You wish, dude.”

  He and Aiden had been fierce rivals growing up, and Micah had been more than glad to see the back end of the big-shot athlete when he left Seashell Bay to play pro ball. Now though, since Aiden’s return, they’d managed to become solid friends. Aiden was a truly good guy who’d already done a lot for Seashell Bay.

  “That’s my point,” Ryan said. “It can happen to anybody, Holly included. This place is like some kind of freaking black hole, sucking you back in.” His smile indicated he didn’t mind that particular pull of gravity.

  Micah inhaled deeply as a gust of wind swept in from the Atlantic and rustled the tangled bushes that grew all the way down the rocky slope to the beach below. “I might go the other way. Maybe break out of the vortex.”

  “Huh?” Aiden said.

  Ryan stared at Micah like he’d lost his mind. “Say that again, because I couldn’t have heard right.”

  Micah gave a wry laugh. “I’m just saying that I’m not sure I want to spend my whole life as a go-between for our resident kleptomaniac and her victims. Sometimes I’d like to be a real cop again. Like I was for a few years on the mainland after I got out of the academy. Maybe I’ll even try for a detective shield at some point.”

  “Hey, you just got a real crime to solve right here,” Aiden said.

  “Unfortunately,” Micah said. “But I doubt it’s the beginning of a crime wave. At least I sure as hell hope not.”

  “So get a transfer into town,” Ryan said. “You can live here and work in Portland, just like Morgan’s doing.”

  Micah gave a slow nod. “Yeah, I guess I just have to pull the trigger one of these days and do it. But it’s not going to be easy to leave. Taking care of folks here has been my life for a long, long time.”

  Aiden rubbed his chin, obviously pretending to look thoughtful. “Well, I suppose if you want to do some real policing, you could always try New York. There are so many cops in a place like Times Square that you can’t wave your arm without hitting one.”

  “Ha, ha. I guess I might do that if I was thinking with my dick instead of my brain,” Micah said. Not that I’d have a ghost of a chance with Holly anyway.

  “You realize you’re totally in denial mode, right?” Aiden said.

  “Nah. I’m just being realistic. Holly and I are worlds apart. When she’s back here, it doesn’t seem like that, but a vacation is a break from your real life. Nothing’s changed when it’s over.”

  Ryan gave him a friendly jab on the arm. “We get it. Look, if transferring to the mainland is what you want, go for it. But I’m guessing you want us to keep our mouths shut about that, right?”

  Micah wasn’t even sure why he’d told the guys, especially since he wasn’t fully sure that he’d go through with it. But he guessed that, for once, he just needed to confide in someone. “Yeah, it’s better that you don’t say anything.”

  “Sure, but you know it won’t be easy to get away from this rock, man,” Ryan said. “I swear at least half the people here will sink any boat that tries to take you away from them. They really depend on you.”

  As their deputy sheriff and friend, Micah knew he had the islanders’ trust. More than that, he had their respect and affection, and he’d spent years building that up. To quit wouldn’t be an easy transition for them or him. But with every passing day, he was feeling the need for a change in his life.

  Chapter 4

  Micah never called Detective Griffin Turner before nine in the morning unless it was an epic emergency. He and Griff had been in the same police academy class and had signed on simultaneously as patrol deputies with the Cumberland County Sheriff’s Office over ten years ago. After a few years, their career paths had diverged—Micah heading to Seashell Bay and Griff going on to earn his detective shield. Even though he was a great cop and probably the smartest guy on the Cumberland County force, Griff had a seriously laid-back attitude and preferred to ease into the day.

  So on the dot of nine, Micah settled behind his desk and punched in Griff’s cell number.

  “Well, good morning, Deputy Lancaster. Is this a social call, or do you need help getting some old lady’s cat out of a tree?” Griff chuckled at his lame attempt at humor.

  “If this was about a cat in a tree, you’d be the last cop I’d call,” Micah said. “You’d probably get it down with a shotgun.”

  “Possibly true. You know I’d never have the patience for the trials and tribulations of island policing.”

  “Look, I’ve got a situation out here,” Micah said, cutting to the chase.

  “What’s up?” Griff asked, immediately turning serious.

  Micah quickly briefed him on the break-in and Vicodin theft. “I got hold of Crime Scene,” he added, “but they said they didn’t have the manpower to send somebody. No surprise there.”

  Micah was still a bit pissed off about that. To him, no crime in Seashell Bay was minor except Daisy’s thievery, which he basically classified as short-term borrowing.

  “Well, if you’re calling me to get involved, you’ll get the same answer,” Griff said flatly. “You know we don’t have the resources to investigate some chickenshit B and E over there. You’ll have to handle it. Besides, I bet this wasn’t even a forced entry. Nobody on that damn island locks their doors.”

  “I keep telling folks to lock up, but it’s like beating my head against a brick wall,” Micah reluctantly acknowledged. “Everybody knows it’s a supersafe place, but with all the tourists and day-trippers, anything can happen.”

  “Look, buddy, if the only thing stolen was Vicodin, chances are pretty damn good that it was some local teen looking to score an easy high. Kids are raiding their parents’ medicine c
abinets every day of the week. And when the parents don’t have drugs, they sometimes range farther afield.”

  “I know, and that’s where I’m going to start. I just thought I’d see if you’ve had any similar thefts recently. On the islands, I mean, not in Portland. Obviously you’ve got that kind of thing all the time in the city, but it doesn’t seem likely that somebody from there would come all the way out to Seashell Bay to look for drugs.”

  “No, we haven’t had anything like that on the other islands,” Turner said. “It’s got to be one of your locals.”

  That stuck in Micah’s craw big-time. “Like I said, it was worth a check.”

  “Good luck with it, man. And make sure you let me know if your crime wave out there continues, huh?” Griff said, twisting the knife.

  “Not that you guys would show up in the bay for anything short of a full-scale terrorist attack,” Micah responded. Too bad he was only half joking.

  “Always a pleasure to talk to you, Deputy.”

  Micah stood, shoved his phone into his pocket, and grabbed his hat off the desk. Mary-Ann Crispo, his part-time secretary, was on the phone, so he just gave her a wave and ducked out of the office. It was time for his morning call at the Jenkins General Store to pick up a coffee. The old gals brewed a pretty good cup, but he mostly went to hear what people were saying. The news and gossip occasionally contained a useful nugget of information.

  He also had to admit that he was more anxious to get to the store than usual. And that was because, this morning, a certain auburn-haired beauty would be serving him.

  Holly had opened the store at eight o’clock, right on time. Though Beatrice had told her yesterday not to push herself for an early opening, Holly hadn’t slept much, and there was no point in lying around in bed. All night, her restless mind had oscillated between worries for her aunts and the store, and for herself. The stress of seeing Florence and Beatrice in trouble, both physically and financially, had sharpened her nagging doubts about making the big move to New York.

  Then again, she needed to stop thinking like a gutless wimp.

  By ten o’clock, only two customers had shown up, mostly because word hadn’t yet made the rounds that the store would remain open even without Florence and Beatrice. Peggy Fogg had confirmed that when she stopped by on her way to the post office. Peggy had picked up three tins of Tetley tea and two bags of her favorite gingersnaps, which Florence brought in especially for her. The other customer was one of the construction workers from the resort site. He’d stopped to pick up coffee and cigarettes on his way to the job.

  It was a pathetically sad haul for the store.

  After doing a little rearranging and restocking, Holly grabbed some sheets of paper from the office and started to sketch out some ideas for renovations. She was sitting at the sales counter, thinking about the best place to locate a bigger deli case, when the little bell over the screen door jingled and Aiden strode in.

  “Morning, Holly,” he said, craning his head sideways to stare at her drawing. “Already planning renovations?”

  She mentally winced at the slightly skeptical tone to his voice. At dinner last night, they’d wound up talking a little about her aunts’ reluctance to change, even though she’d been determined to focus on the good things about coming home, not the problems.

  Aside from seeing her friends, she was running short on the good stuff.

  She put down her pencil and smiled. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

  Aiden was wearing a University of Southern Maine T-shirt that showcased his athlete’s physique. He was gorgeous, ambitious, and, most importantly, a hell of a nice guy. Holly couldn’t be happier for Lily, even if she was just a teeny bit jealous of the wonderful life her friends had created for themselves.

  Aiden shot her a grin. “I hope that coffee’s good and fresh, because I sure need a hit. After you guys left, Lily and I had a… well, late night.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s fresh, but please spare me the details of your night, Romeo. And don’t you feel a little guilty that you get to sleep in while my poor friend has to haul herself up before dawn to catch lobsters?” she teased.

  “Of course, really guilty,” he said with a sigh. “But somehow I manage to get over it.”

  Holly knew Aiden truly loved and appreciated his hardworking wife. She reached for a paper cup and quickly filled it.

  Aiden glanced out of one of the long side windows that offered a view of the ferry dock. “I’m catching the ten twenty boat. It’s just pulling in now.”

  “One cream, no sugar, right?” Holly said. The general store didn’t go in for fancy self-serve stations for cream, sugar, napkins, or God forbid, soy or rice milk. The aunties kept a modest supply of fixings next to the pot and doled it out in careful increments.

  “Perfect,” Aiden said. “It’s sure good to have you home, Holly. It’s been way too long.”

  Holly felt herself blushing, not so much because of his compliment but because he’d just tapped into her guilt over her infrequent visits.

  “None too subtle, dude,” she said. “Yes, I’m a terrible niece and friend. Although you’re one to talk—you didn’t come home for years.”

  “Ouch, you got me,” he said, dramatically clutching his chest. “Then again, I was an idiot, which you’re definitely not.”

  “That’s certainly true.” She covered the cup with a lid and handed it to him. “And that’ll be a buck and a half, buddy.”

  Aiden reached into his pocket and plunked down a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change. Consider it a small contribution toward keeping this place going. The island needs the Jenkins General Store. I just hope people get their shit together and start supporting it more.”

  “Aw, that’s not necessary, but thanks. You’re such a sweetie.” Holly rang the purchase into the register and put the money in the till. “But the next few cups are on the house.”

  “Forget it. And by the way, you’re the furthest thing from a terrible niece and friend. A terrible niece wouldn’t even be here, much less running the store to help her aunts. And you know that Lily and Morgan would love you to death even if you only came home once a decade.”

  Embarrassed and still feeling guilty, Holly shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and stared down at the floor. “Thanks, Aiden.”

  “Chin up, girl. Everything will sort itself out. See you later.”

  By the time she looked up, Aiden was heading out the door. But standing in front of him, pretty much blocking his way, was Seashell Bay’s gorgeous deputy sheriff.

  The guys exchanged a few words and a fist bump before Aiden strode off. Holly had to shake herself into action, partly because they were two of the hottest guys on planet Earth and any red-blooded girl would be struck dumb at the vision of all that hotness in close proximity, and partly because she tended to freeze whenever she saw Micah these days.

  That development was incredibly annoying. The man had been one of her best friends all her life, and yet damned if she didn’t feel like a nervous teenage girl when she thought about being alone with him, even in the store.

  “Coffee, Deputy?” she asked brightly. As he strode up, she took a step back to lean against the back counter. The extra four feet of distance did little to diminish the impact of his overwhelming masculinity or the way his tall, muscled form seemed to make the store shrink around him.

  “Hell, yeah. You know how I need caffeine in this high-pressure job,” he said as he laid his deputy’s hat on the counter. He flashed her a quick, charming grin. “It’s getting hot out there already.”

  It was getting pretty hot inside the store too. She felt herself flushing, even though the store’s aging but still-efficient air-conditioning kept things at a steady seventy-three degrees.

  Hormones, dammit. And she wasn’t anywhere near old enough to blame it on early menopause.

  Since Micah took his coffee black, all Holly had to do was pour a cup, put a lid on it, and set it on the counter. A
nd, yes, she was avoiding handing it to him in case their hands brushed. “There you go. I just made a new pot a few minutes ago.”

  Micah reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Put your money away, my friend. It’s on the house, as always. Cops and firefighters don’t pay for coffee in this establishment.”

  Micah shook his head. “Maybe not before, but now they do. At least this one does. Holly, I’m sure as hell not taking free coffee when Florence and Beatrice are obviously struggling.”

  As hard as her aunts had tried to keep the store’s financial woes under the radar, Micah clearly knew they had more problems than the prospect of competition from a convenience store chain. Though the Jenkins General Store was looking tired, she suspected most people on the island had failed to realize how bad things were. Then again, Micah knew pretty much everything that was going on in Seashell Bay, often via Miss Annie, in whom Florence and Beatrice usually confided.

  “It’s just a cup of coffee, Micah,” Holly said.

  His expression was polite but implacable. “Doesn’t matter. It’s the principle. And I’m going to buy everything I can here from now on. No more picking stuff up in town just because it’s a little cheaper. Islanders have been doing that more than we should.”

  He pushed a five-dollar bill across the counter. “And don’t give me any change,” he said with a little growl roughening his deep voice. Holly found it adorable—also totally sexy, which she would not think more about.

  “You’re a doll,” she said as she picked up the bill. “But I’m not going to breathe a word of this to Florence and Beatrice. They’d shun me for accepting money from the law.”

  His grimace signaled his discomfort with the conversation. “They’ll just have to get used to it.”