She fumed at his insolence as he slipped his mirrored aviators back on and nodded curtly before he stalked out the door. Andi thought of police as the good guys, but this detective gave her the creeps and she second-guessed every interaction with him. Was she being too smart with him? Should she’ve been nicer?
The telephone jangled and demanded her attention.
âHello?â
âI know what you did.â
Her nerves were already tingling and she shifted from fear to anger. She hissed, âWhat do you want?â
“I want those documents.” He breathed heavily into the phone. “You thought they were worth killing for and I have no problem doing whatever I have to do to get you out of the way.â
The phone was heavy as a brick in her hands. âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â
âThe exact location of samples and results of the geological tests. The deed. The stocks. I will have those papers in my hands before August Woodson dies, even if I have to turn you over to the cops to get you out of the way. You are running out of time.â
The line went dead, and she was left to wonder who, what … it made no sense. The mysterious caller thought she murdered Chad for some documents, but she’d found nothing that would warrant killing someone for. Perhaps he knew about the legal stuff, but that had been taken care of with the attorney. The Will had been filed with the court, and certainly didnât leave her any fortune. Maybe the deed to the property bordering Acadia? But that went into the Trust just like the rest of Chadâs assets.
Unless the caller needed Chadâs notes about gems … the find might be destroyed if Woodson Enterprises proceeded with development.
Or was the development a cover for the gemstones?
She was tempted to stop answering the phone, but couldnât. Paul had an aversion to answering machines and wouldn’t leave a message, so she began simply hanging up as soon as she heard the tell-tale breathing. She hoped the blackmailer would tire of getting a dial tone and give up, though she knew that was nothing more than a pipe dream. The phone calls ratcheted up her blood pressure, but she couldnât figure out how to deal with the caller. The fear that he might call the police was paralyzing. For the first time in years, her life was her own, and the thought of losing her newfound freedom terrified her, made her feel desperate.
On Friday, she arranged to meet Paul at the Harbor. She arrived early and decided to peruse Jewels by the Sea, with the goal of finding out more about the rough stones she’d found in the safe deposit box. When she asked Josephine about unpolished gems, the woman nodded enthusiastically. “You should talk to my husband. He’s an amateur rock hounder, and frequently sets semiprecious stones that he finds.”
She went into the back and within minutes her husband appeared. Andi blinked. “I think we’ve met.”
His eyes widened as recognition dawned. “Yes, at the Clifftop.”
A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of that night. “I didn’t put it together. That you owned a jewelry store, I mean.”
“Josephine and I have run the store for years.” His smile faded. “Please accept our condolences on the loss of your husband.”
“Thank you.” She glanced around, then said, “I was wondering if you can tell me anything about local stones, what is found around here.”
He gladly showed her some tourmaline crystals, and told her about two boys who discovered a major source of the crystals near Mount Paris, Maine. The only other people in the store were at the opposite end, engrossed in Pandora charms, so Andi pulled the little cloth sack from her purse and dropped the pink and green crystals onto the glass counter. “Are these worth anything?”
âWow,â he whispered. âWhereâd you get these?â He looked up at her with wide eyes.
She glanced nervously around and shrugged, âI donât know. My husband had them.â
“That night at the Clifftop, that wasn’t the first time we’d met.” He hesitated for a moment, then picked up one of the stones and turned it over, examining it carefully. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, then finally said, âHe came in here with all kinds of questions about mineral rights and mining. He hinted that heâd found a wicked big producer, but wouldnât tell me where. Said that it was his ticket to a better life.â
âDo you remember anything else? Anything about where heâd found the stones?â
âNo, but he did say that his girlfriendâs grandfatherâ his eyes flicked up and he said, âSorry.â
âItâs okay. The wifeâs always the last to know.â She shrugged and motioned for him to continue.
He glanced at Josephine before he continued, âAnyway, he said his girlfriendâs grandfather owned the land, and that he hoped to buy it for a song. Thatâs why he wanted to know about mineral rights.â
The door to the store opened, and the wind chimes jangled in the breeze. Paul strolled towards them. “Thought that was your Jeep back there.”
She scooped the stones up, stuffed them in the bag and dropped it in her purse. She thanked the man for his help, and turned to Paul.
His smile crinkled his tanned cheeks and his piercing blue eyes sparkled as he caught her in his arms, then gave her a quick peck on the cheek. His lips barely brushed her skin, but it still sent aftershocks all the way to her toes.
He kept one arm possessively around her while they looked at the tourist trinkets in the store. She commented on a simple hematite band displayed next to the cash register, and he slipped it on her right ring finger. Her breath caught in her throat.
âFits perfect,â she breathed.
At that moment, she couldnât have been happier with a diamond from Tiffanyâs.
He took her hand and ran his thumb over the ring as he pulled a bill from his pocket. He laid it on the counter, never breaking eye contact with her. To Carl Franklin, he said, âKeep the change.â
The two held hands and swung them like school kids as they walked out of the store. She had to keep from skipping down the steps as they walked out to the parking lot. Suddenly, she felt optimistic. The stones tucked safely in her purse were worth something. Maybe there were more where those from. Maybe she could sell them to the man at the jewelry store. Paul opened the car door for her and she hopped in his Jeep, feeling lighter than she had in quite some time, equipped with her camera, maps and a sweatshirt. She held out her hand, fingers spread wide, and admired her new ring as they headed south and left Buccaneer Bay behind them to shoot some photos for a new brochure.
Their destination was Otter Point. The weather, beautiful for an late summer day, buoyed her spirits. Though tourist traffic slowed them, it just meant they’d be together longer. The wind ruffled her short hair and she reveled in the feeling of freedom.
He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “You want to grab me a Pepsi from the cooler? There’s an Orange Crush there for you, too.”
She grinned as she reached into the back seat and opened his before handing it to him.
“You didn’t have to do that.” He grinned at her and dimples formed in his cheeks. “But, thanks!”
She beamed. Doing little things like that had become habit during her marriage. Chad trained her to think like a servant and it became second nature, but he never thanked her like Paul did. She wondered if Caren ever did things like that for him. Probably not, gauging from his reaction. She slipped her thumbnail under the tab and popped her own soda open.
The cool sweetness slid over her tongue. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a soda, much less anything not diet. Much sweeter than I remember.” She sat the orange can in the cup holder.
He tapped her can with his finger. “You’d better drink up. It’s better when it’s ice cold.”
With a smile, she grasped the can and guzzled the sugary drink. A droplet of soda slipped down the side and onto her finger. She frowned and held t
he drink up. “Must be a hole in the can somewhere. It’s starting to lose its fizz.”
He glanced over at her and frowned. “Do I need to get you another, or can you drink that one quickly?”
She laughed. “It’s fine. I’ll just drink quick.” She tipped the cold can up and took another gulp, then another. When she finished the soda, she tucked the can in the plastic bag they’d brought along for trash, then held her hand in her lap, palm up, to keep from getting the stickiness all over.
He pointed at the glove box. “There’s some wet wipes in there.”
As she wiped off her hands, she let him guide the conversation, which he turned to her husband before they reached the turnoff from 3 onto Park Loop Road. He drove with his left arm draped casually out the window. He spoke loud to be heard over the rush of wind, âThought maybe we’d go back to your house when we get back to Buccaneer Bay. We can go through some of Chad’s stuff.â
“I’ve been chipping away at it.”
“Thought you were going to wait for me.” His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “Have you gotten through most of it?”
She shrugged. âSome. Itâs going to take quite a while, and thereâs a lot to go through, so Iâm just taking it one step at a time.â
He glanced over at her with those piercing blue eyes and cocked his eyebrow. âFinding anything of interest?â
Thoughts of the Will and the mysterious accounting papers flitted through her mind. âJust a lot of old memories. Even the good memories have lost their sparkle, though, so it feels good to get rid of them.â
âNo marriage is perfect. By the way, did you get any more calls from that creep?â He fiddled with the radio.
âA couple. No big deal.â She glanced at him. âIâm a big girl.â
He frowned and adjusted his rear view mirror. âI know. I just donât like it.â
She felt a little thrill at the show of protectiveness.
He continued, “Why don’t you just give him what he wants?”
“I don’t know what he wants.” She frowned, anxious to turn the attention back to imperfect marriages. Surely, it wouldnât be long before he grew tired of this sneaking around and left Caren, especially when she was cheating on him. It couldn’t be a secret for long in a small town like Buccaneer Bay. âSo, how was your week?â
“Same ‘ol’, same ol’.” He downshifted as they neared the next turnoff. âI told you - I’m going to help you go through Chad’s things. You don’t need to do that by yourself.â
He turned the radio up and they drove in silence the next several miles until they reached the turn for the parking lot at Otter Cliff. He signaled then pointed the Jeep west. The sun warmed their backs, and the forest and rocks rose up around them, gorgeous, majestic in their ruggedness, deep green. They parked and crossed the road, then made their way down the rocky path. About a quarter of the way down, she felt off-balance and stepped wrong. Paul caught her elbow just as she stumbled. She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”
He grinned at her. “The height can be disorienting sometimes.”
She nodded, then looked out. The blue-green ocean spread out before them, absolutely incredible, and boats floated in the distance.
âBreathtaking, isn’t it?â he whispered. There was a strange inflection in his voice that she couldnât quite figure out.
âYes. Beautiful.â
âEasy to forget how dangerous they can be, though, right?â He waved towards the waves crashing against the craggy red rocks.
A wave of nausea threatened to end the trip prematurely. She swallowed and shrugged in an effort to be casual. âI guess-â
Paul glanced at her, his face blank. âIâm sorry. I shouldnât have said that. That’s how your husband died, right? Falling onto the rocks from a cliff?â
She gazed to the south. âYes. He fell over a guardrail.â
His voice was rough like sandpaper, âBut it wasnât an accident, was it?â
27
It took a lot of self-control to keep her eyes focused on the rocks underfoot. She sucked in a deep breath of salt air before answering. âOf course it was an accident.â
He dipped his head towards hers. âI mean, it wasnât a wreck â a car accident? Was it?â
Relief swept over her like the frothy waves rolling over the rough rocks below them, âOh, no, it wasnât a wreck. But it was an accident. Of course, it was a horrible, horrible accident. He just stepped back and went over the guardrail-â She clapped her hand over her mouth, feeling the horror all over again.
âIâm sorry,â he said quickly. âI didnât mean to bring up bad memories. Tell me what your brochures and maps say about these cliffs.â
The exchange dampened her mood the rest of the day, and she couldn’t shake the unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Something had changed, and she wasnât sure if it was her or him. She’d convinced herself that he was the one, the one she’d live happily ever after with. He filled her dreams, but now she was unsure. She focused on taking pictures during the trip, and kept the discussion on safe topics. Neither of them made any effort to touch the other as they explored the shoreline.
As they walked the concrete path towards Thunder Hole, she glanced down and felt her head spin. Heights usually didn’t bother her, but this did. She wrapped her hand around the handrail and held on tight, then asked, “Did you know I was fired this week?” It came out more confrontational than she’d intended.
“What?” He grabbed her arm and turned her towards him, then leaned back against the steel support. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
She glanced at a couple of tourists that stepped around them. “They accused me of stealing.”
He jerked his head back and lowered his eyebrows. “What? That’s crazy.”
No offer to check into the situation for her. She laughed, sharp and humorless. “I’ll be fine. Just have to find a new job.” And soon. She either had to buy the house she lived in - an absurd situation - or find another place to live. Laughter bubbled up, unbidden. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stop the giggles.
What was wrong with her?
He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her down the narrow steps. She gripped the handrail with her right hand and took in the awesome sight of Thunder Hole. The roar of the water rolling in and crashing into the narrow cleft in the massive rock did indeed remind her of thunder. Wave after wave rolled in, sending up a spray of salt water each time. The rolling motion made her feel queasy. She blinked and swayed as if she’d been drinking. Her side struck the support and she pressed against it in an effort to stop the steps from pitching from side to side. She looked out to the east and focused on the horizon.
He shouted over the roar, “This is pretty good for summer. It’s usually pretty calm!”
She swallowed hard. “It’s awesome!” she shouted back.
They were standing just above the end platform when the first stab of pain struck. She straightened, thinking she might’ve pulled a muscle on the walk. It hit again, this time nearly blinding in its intensity. Paul was a step below her, facing the roiling sea, when she fell to her knees. Waves of nausea passed over her, and she lost her lunch. She spat. He turned to look at her, and she retched again.
It hurt so bad, it didnât even bother her to have him see her like that. The massive boulders tilted around her, and the edges of her vision clouded. The pain doubled her over. Just before she lost consciousness, she saw Paul leaning casually against the guardrail as two people she didn’t know hovered over her. Their faces blurred and then everything closed in around her.
Andi woke up in the emergency room, barely covered by a dreadful cotton gown, with a plastic tube snaking from her right arm up to an IV bag. Hospitals have a buzz about them no matter the time of day,
but the lights in the cubicle were dimmed. All around her voices competed with the beeping and chiming of machines. A nurse swept the curtain open and strode in, then took Andi’s vital signs without so much as an introduction. The woman’s heavy gray brows pushed together and she tipped her head back to peer through the bottom half of her glasses at her watch as she pressed her fingers against Andi’s wrist.
âExcuse me, but whatâs wrong with me?â Andi remembered the horrendous pain she’d felt while at Thunder Hole but was blissfully pain free at the moment. She raised her head, but the room tilted dangerously, so she dropped back down.
The nurse tucked a loose strand of gray hair back into her bun and mumbled, âKidneys.â
Andi blinked in surprise. Sheâd never had any problems with her kidneys before. âAm I going to be okay?â Everything was delightfully foggy.
âRemains to be seen.â The older woman wrapped the blood pressure sleeve around Andi’s arm and nodded towards the IV bag, âPumping you full of fluids to try to flush the alcohol out of your system.â
The sleeve tightened around her arm until it felt like it would explode. âWait. What?â She tried to pull her arm away from the pressure, but her muscles didn’t respond.
“You were really out of it when the bus brought you in.” The nurse tugged the pressure sleeve from Andi’s arm and tapped the results into the laptop mounted on the wall. âLooks like you really tied one on.â
“I didn’t have anything to drink.” Andi struggled to keep her eyes open and glanced around the room. âWas anyone—did my—is my — friend still here?â
“Not that I’ve seen and I’ve been on duty since you got here.” The nurse shook her head and examined the clear plastic bag hanging on the silver pole at the side of the bed.
The door burst open and a white-coated doctor pushed through. “Calcium oxalate crystals in the urine!”
“Dr. Cavanaugh. I was on duty when you were brought into the ER.” The tall doctor strode over to the bed and squinted at Andi. “What did you have to drink earlier today?”
Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel Page 17