Along Came a Husband

by Helen Brenna

  Yeah, right. And she was the Dalai Lama.

  “Do you want some tea?” Jan asked.

  Although they were both coffee drinkers, they kept a stash of green tea for Missy. “I’d love some, thanks.” She sat at the old oak table and poured herself a bowl of cereal, topped it with some blueberries and poured skim milk over the top. Normally, she didn’t drink milk, but Ron and Jan drew the line at stocking soy products, so Missy adapted when she was at their house.

  They chatted about this and that while everyone finished breakfast. She swallowed the last spoonful of her cereal, sat back in her chair and fussed with her tea.

  “Might as well come out with it,” Jan said. “The longer you wait, the harder it’ll get.”

  Missy took the bag out of her tea, took a sip and framed her words. “For now, can you keep what I’m going to tell you between us?”

  They both nodded, and she knew they’d keep their word.

  “Okay. Here goes. There are some things I haven’t told you about me.” Neither Ron nor Jan said a word during her entire long-winded explanation about her family. When she finally finished, she glanced at them. “So that’s it. Everything you ever wanted to know about one Melissa Camden—aka Missy Charms.”

  Ron and Jan glanced at each other and laughed.

  Dumbfounded, Missy sat straight. “Why are you laughing?”

  Ron quickly sobered. “Sweetheart, we always figured you were running from something. We just didn’t know what it was.”

  “To be honest, we were worried you might be in trouble with the police,” Jan said.

  “The police?” Missy sat back. “Why?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s come to Mirabelle to hide from the authorities,” Ron said, probably referring to Erica when she’d been on the run with Jason.

  Jan chuckled. “And let’s just say you’re not exactly traditional.”

  Missy wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that meant. She was simply happy they were taking this so well. “So you’re not mad?”

  “Why would we be upset?” Jan asked.

  “Because I lied to you.”

  “Because you’d never share anything about your past?” Ron shook his head. “If you’d have wanted us to know, you’d have told us.”

  “If we’d felt the need to know,” Jan added, “we’d have asked.”

  “So you understand. I have millions of dollars in a trust account.”

  They glanced at each other.

  “Yeah, that’s a little strange,” Jan admitted. “It doesn’t really change anything between us.”

  “You are who you are, Missy.”

  Missy couldn’t stop tears of sheer relief from falling down her cheeks.

  “Oh, honey.” Ron patted her hand. “You mean far too much to us for something like this to come between us.”

  “No harm done,” Jan added. “I gotta ask, though. Why is it so important for you to steer clear of your family?”

  “It’s hard to explain, but I just…they just…acted so differently from how I felt inside it was hard to figure out who I was around them. Does that make any sense?”

  “A little. What about now? After all these years on your own?”

  Whether or not things had changed for her was something she hadn’t thought much about. “Now, I don’t honestly know.”

  “Are they all bad? Even your mother?”

  “My father was the worst to be around, but she did what he told her to do.”

  “Guilty by association?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t seem entirely fair.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s really not about what’s fair. It’s about what I needed to do for myself. Being out from under the shadow of my father is what I needed.” She took a deep breath and tried to explain. “He’s very controlling. A his-way-or-the-highway man. He was always lecturing me and my siblings about our duty to pay back what we were given. I can still hear his voice in my mind, saying, ‘Your great-great-grandfather was one of this country’s most influential men. You must do great things with your lives.’”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “Life, to me, doesn’t need to be big and bold to be meaningful. He’d never understand the quiet difference I make by selling only American-made or fair trade products in my gift shop. By trying to be a good friend and neighbor. By buying Mirabelle Island municipal bonds in my trust account.” That slipped out before Missy had thought to rein herself in.

  Both Ron and Jan glanced silently at her, their eyebrows raised. “So you were the investor who came in at the last minute and saved the plans for the pool and golf course?” Jan asked.

  She nodded.

  Ron chuckled. “Well, Missy, you helped a lot of people on this island. Whether they know it or not.”

  “Not me. The money really belongs to my great-great-grandfather. I’d be content with my gift shop.” She sighed and glanced back and forth between the two of them. “So you’re truly not upset? Not at all?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’m not sure the rest of the islanders will have the same lack of reaction.”

  “Oh, no doubt, you’d get a mix.” He sighed. “Some who beforehand wouldn’t give you the time of day will suddenly want to be your best friend. Some who are friends, won’t know how to act around you. Some won’t give a damn.”

  “I’m not sure you should tell everyone, Missy,” Jan offered. “But maybe you should at least tell Sarah. And possibly Hannah.”

  “I can’t.”

  “If they’re true friends, they’ll understand.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like going through life without connections. I wasn’t allowed to be friends with kids I shared interests with and the kids I was allowed to do things with I couldn’t stand. In college, people I thought were friends really weren’t. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Sarah.” She took a deep breath and rallied to tell them about Jonas. “There’s one more thing you need to know.”

  “What more could there be?” Jan asked, surprised.

  “Has to do with that man at your house,” Ron said, holding her gaze. “Right?”

  She nodded. “He’s not my brother. He’s my husband.”

  They both sat back and listened, their frowns deepening. By the time she finished explaining him, she felt more confused than ever. “So do you have as clear an insight about Jonas?”

  Jan shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to touch that one with a ten-foot pole.”

  Ron sighed. “Me neither.”

  Even so, Missy felt the answer settle inside her.

  Somehow, someway, she had to find the courage to finish all the unfinished business in her life. She had to talk with Sarah. She’d have to call the adoption agency, set the record straight and let the chips fall where they may. And she needed to be done running from Jonas.

  Missy gripped the crystal necklace she’d been wearing since Jonas had arrived on Mirabelle and slipped it off. She had to face him head-on. It was the only way she could hope to find herself again and hold her place in this world.

  F EELING LIKE A CAGED wild animal, Jonas paced the length of Missy’s house. For as much his benefit as hers, he’d been doing his best to stay out of her way for the past couple of days. Merely catching a whiff of her after she’d left her house each morning for work was enough to stir things up for him. Seeing her in the flesh would’ve most definitely put him into the right-here-right-now mode. That was the last thing she needed from him.

  For her part, every day since he’d landed on her doorstep, Missy had been leaving early and coming back late in an effort to avoid him. Why it bothered him, he hadn’t a clue, but it did. The sooner he got off this miserable island, the better.

  Although his gunshot wound was healing well and he was quickly regaining his strength, he was no closer to solving this issue with Stein. He needed some answers. A diversion wouldn’t be so bad, either.

  Sliding his
gun into a shoulder holster and slipping on a jacket, Jonas went outside. The day was overcast and the sun had almost set, but for anonymity’s sake, he slipped on a baseball cap and surveyed the perimeter. A few blocks down the hill, people walked along the main street, but except for a man mowing his lawn a few houses away this residential area was deserted. He made his way down the hill slowly, taking care not to stretch his side too much.

  People nodded or raised hands in greeting, but Jonas ignored them all, heading instead to the shore. As he walked, he pulled another disposable cell from his jacket pocket, blocked his number and dialed, hoping the old extension hadn’t changed.

  The call was answered after two rings. “Special Agent Reynolds.”

  “Louis, I don’t have time for lengthy explanations, so let’s make this quick.”

  “Who is this?”

  Jonas paused. It was possible the calls of Jonas’s friends—if he’d ever really had such a thing—were being monitored. It was even possible he could no longer trust Reynolds, but he had to take this risk. As long as Reynolds didn’t know where Jonas was, no harm no foul. In any case, it was better for Louis to figure this out offline. “We need to talk. You know what to do. Be careful.” He hung up.

  While he waited to call Reynolds back, he sat down on a bench set away from people some distance from the marina and took in the sights at Mirabelle’s shore. No wonder this place attracted all kinds of tourists. There was so much to do. People were enjoying sailing, windsurfing, riding Jet Skis, not to mention fishing.

  Nice-sized sailboats and yachts were docked amidst the smaller crafts, but none were as large as those he’d seen off Chicago’s shores on Lake Michigan, a playground of the Midwestern rich and famous. Even Delgado owned a yacht large enough for a helicopter pad.

  Jonas eyed a charter boat in the marina and watched the captain, an old guy, putz with his gear. Not a bad way to retire, if that was your inclination, but Jonas had no intention of ever slowing his pace. He’d die before he’d retire.

  Glancing at his watch, he figured he’d given Louis enough time. He dialed the pay phone where Louis would, hopefully, be waiting.

  Louis answered on the first ring. “Jonas? Is this you?”

  “You alone?”

  “Now I am. Someone tailed me out of the office, but I shook the asshole. Is this really you?”

  “You know it is, otherwise you wouldn’t be in front of the Last Drop coffee shop.”

  “Jonas, you died. I was at the funeral.”

  “Staged. For an undercover op.”

  There was a slight pause on the line as if Louis was assimilating the information. “You couldn’t even tell me? The closest thing you had to a best friend. You son of a bitch.”

  “You know the drill. Besides,” Jonas said, taking a deep breath, “I didn’t expect to live through this deal, but what do you know? Here I am with a measly bullet wound in my side.”

  “What happened?”

  “I need your help to find out. You in?”

  There was a long moment of silence before Louis said, “Tell me what you need me to do.”

  “First. Who followed you out of the office?”

  “I don’t know. Never seen him before. He was a pro, though. Took a while to shake him without letting on what I was doing.”

  Jonas quickly filled his friend in on an abbreviated status of the case, giving him a bit more detail about the Chicago situation. Antsy now, he stood and walked the beach as he talked. “See if you can access Mason Stein’s computer files. E-mail me anything you can find labeled Greenland.” Jonas gave him the address he’d set up last night, a location he could access without being identified.

  “Why Stein?”

  “This mission’s his baby. Mason and Kensington are the only ones who know I’m alive.”

  “That’s not protocol.”

  “At the time I didn’t give a shit.” Jonas had had nothing except a failed marriage on his plate.

  “You should’ve. You really put Missy through the wringer.”

  Jonas grunted. “Right.” He kept walking and found himself on Main.

  “I’m not shitting you, man. She was really broken up. At the wake she looked as if she’d been crying for a week straight. The funeral was worse. Your dad had to hold her up for the entire ceremony.”

  “You must be remembering the wrong man’s death.”

  “I was there, Jonas. I know what I saw. Whatever Missy’s reasons were for wanting a divorce, not loving you wasn’t one of them.”

  Jonas hung up his phone. Missy wouldn’t have cried over his death. No way. No how. His gaze landed on the name of a gift shop on the other side of the street printed in large, flowing purple letters above the front door. Whimsy. Missy’s store. Had to be. Avoiding a horse-drawn carriage clip-clopping down the cobblestone, he crossed the street.

  The woman was done hiding for tonight.

  A NOTHER NIGHT CLOSING HER SHOP . Missy had wanted to go home, to stick with her new plan to stop avoiding Jonas, but Gaia had a date and couldn’t stay. She thought about calling Sarah to see if she and Brian might stop in to share some takeout, but it was probably best to steer clear of her insightful best friend until Jonas left Mirabelle.

  Instead, Missy sat at her front counter stringing together another bracelet meant for a man. For some reason, men’s jewelry seemed to be the only thing she was interested in making these days. This one was jade, a stone that represented good fortune. The last one had been quartz, meant to provide a clear connection to a person’s guardian angel. Something Jonas could use.

  Jonas again. No matter what she did or didn’t do, she couldn’t get him off her mind. Only a couple nights and already this was getting old.

  Making jewelry with this degree of internal discord was never a good idea. She closed her eyes, searching for a quiet place in her soul. Only there wasn’t such a place. It seemed Jonas had touched every piece of her. If only she could confide in Sarah.

  “I need to talk to you.” Jonas. He was behind her, somehow coming through her front door as quietly as a wolf. From the sound of his voice, he was angry.

  Pushing back from the desk, she straightened her shoulders and prepared herself for what she knew would be an onslaught of emotions. She spun around and lost her breath. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the sight of him. He was so beautiful in this state. Energy and passion vibrated off him in intense waves. Facing the man head-on had just gotten much, much harder.

  Good. Time to see exactly what Missy Charms is made of.

  “What’s up,” she asked.

  “I just got off the phone with Louis Reynolds.”

  “You’re moving forward. That’s good. Is he still with the Bureau?”

  Nodding, he moved toward her, his intent unclear. “That’s not what I want to talk about.”

  She waited, a sense of dread churning in her stomach.

  “He had a lot to say about the funeral. My funeral.”

  At that she stood and prepared herself.

  “He claimed you were pretty choked up. Especially for a widow who’d been planning a divorce.”

  She moved away, turning her back on him. “That was a very strange time for me, full of all kinds of conflicting emotions.”

  “I want to know, Missy.” He was right behind her, his breath on her neck. “If you cared so much about me, then why were you divorcing me?”

  “Why not? You were rarely around as I recall.”

  “Maybe there was a reason for that.”

  “Like what?” She spun around, all the hurt and anger of those days filling her up as if it were yesterday and she was lonely and miserable and dealing with a miscarriage all on her own because her husband was too focused on work to give a damn. She’d lost more than a baby that day in the hospital. She’d lost all hope for her marriage.

  The words to try and explain were on the tip of her tongue, but what would telling him solve? She already felt incredibly vulnerable around him. The only thing savin
g her was his animosity. Lose that, and she might just find herself back to square one, loving a man who didn’t love her.

  “You know it wasn’t easy being married to a Camden,” he bit out.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Trying to live up to your father’s expectations. And yours. The more I tried to take care of you, the more you complained. Apparently, your dad wasn’t the only one I wasn’t good enough for.”

  “That’s not fair. All I ever wanted was for you to be there for me.” She pushed past him, but he followed.

  “Then why file for a divorce?” Fury sparked in his eyes.

  “The fact that you have absolutely no clue ought to be clue enough.”

  “Missy—”

  “You were never around, Jonas! I’m not sure why you ever married me. You were married to your job long before I ever came around.”

  “Then why did you marry me? ”

  “Because I loved you! Because I thought once we were married, I’d be your priority.”

  He didn’t say a word. For a long moment, they quietly faced each other. Suddenly, his features softened. “You were my priority, Missy. Always. Every day.”

  “You sure had a funny way of showing it,” she whispered.

  He backed up, as if he didn’t trust himself to remain close to her, and turned away. “You have no idea what it’s like to be without money,” he replied softly. “Can you even imagine coming home and finding out that your father’s lost his third job in as many weeks? To see your mother get sick and worry over paying the medical bills? To get kicked out of your apartment because your father couldn’t pay the rent?” He turned back, glanced at her and then quickly looked away again.

  “I know you’ve never respected your father, but I didn’t know how bad it was.”

  “I was ashamed of him.”

  “He’s your father.”

  “We were homeless for a time, Missy. You can’t possibly imagine what it’s like to not know where you’re going to sleep the coming night.”