by Kelly Utt
“Thanks, friend,” Penelope replied. “It means the world to me.”
They smiled at each other, basking in the good vibes. Penelope wanted to hold on to every bit of good, just as Cheryl had suggested. Her life was happy right now in many ways, but that didn’t mean everything was okay. She had woken up several times during the night thinking about the blonde man in the bay. She was worried about Audrey, too, and about Hana having seen too much. She suspected there was more to come. The danger might get worse before it got better.
“So,” Penelope said, making direct eye contact with Cheryl and ready to get down to business. “You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about. It sounded urgent. What is it?”
Cheryl took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
“You know what?” she asked, chewing on her lip. “It was nothing. Nothing at all. I’m sure you have things to do. I’ll get out of here so you can start your day.”
10
By the time Marshall returned with a load of his belongings, it was mid-afternoon and the sun was high in the sky. Penelope had opened the windows in her condo to let the spring air in. She’d spent much of the day so far reorganizing to make room for Marshall’s things.
“There she is,” Marshall said as he entered, beaming.
“Hello, dear,” Penelope replied.
It felt like she was on Cloud 9 where Marshall was concerned. Their interaction felt more natural than anything she’d ever experienced. At least, anything she’d experienced in a romantic relationship. The ease they enjoyed reminded her of her relationship with her dad, though not in a creepy way. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells around either of the two best men in her life. She knew where they stood, and she could count on them to be there for her, no matter what. It was a beautiful thing.
Marshall set the box of clothes he was carrying down on the dining table, then rushed over to where Penelope was standing in the kitchen to kiss her passionately on the lips. He placed both hands low on her hips as he did, causing the pressure to build between her legs again. They wanted each other something fierce.
“Did you see Reggie?” Penelope asked between kisses in an effort to focus on something besides sex.
“I did,” he replied. “But right now, I’m kissing you.”
He moved his mouth down to her neck and gently kissed the space where her shoulder joined.
“You’re too good, Marshall Erving,” she breathed. He was quickly making her forget about everyone and everything else.
“Oh?” he teased. “How can I be too good? Is there even such a thing?”
He lowered his hands, lifting the hem of her skirt and walking his fingers up her legs underneath.
Penelope blushed. Marshall’s sexy talk made her think about Cheryl having said the place smelled like sex. It would smell like sex forevermore at the rate they were going. That might not be such a bad thing.
“You’re right,” she said, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “There’s no such thing.”
Feeling playful and deciding to give in to her desires, she pulled back from Marshall’s lips long enough to hop up on the counter. She wasn’t wearing shoes, which made it easy to slide her panties off and down her long legs, kicking them onto the floor.
“Now you’re talking,” Marshall said, lifting her dress higher, then sliding his t-shirt off over his head. “I want you, Penelope Cline. I want you right now.”
“Then have me,” she giggled. “I’m all yours.”
Marshall ducked his head and buried it between her legs, reveling in her wetness. He couldn’t get enough. He licked and chewed, making mental notes of which motions elicited the strongest response from Penelope’s body. He surfaced for just a moment to say, “I like you in dresses. Easy access.”
Penelope laughed, then pushed his head back down where she liked it. She moaned with pleasure.
Suddenly, they heard the front door open. It was directly across from the kitchen with a plain view.
Penelope jumped, pulling her dress down as she took cover. Marshall didn’t move. He held his head still, but kept his tongue going.
“Marshall, the door!”
“Um hmm,” he hummed. He didn’t seem to care.
“Oh, my God! Not again,” a female voice said. It was Hana.
She covered her eyes, but didn’t leave.
Marshall pulled back, wiping his mouth and rolling his eyes. “Hello, Hana,” he said irritably. “Ever try knocking?”
“It was open,” Hana said. “Besides, I have a key.”
Penelope ran into the bedroom to straighten herself up, the embarrassment nearly too much for her.
“Pen,” Hana said as Penelope ran past. “I’m sorry!”
Marshall shook his head.
Hana closed the door behind her, then took the same seat on the sofa that Cheryl had occupied. She sat silently for a moment while she waited on Penelope to return. Marshall took a seat in an armchair nearby. He wasn’t sure whether he should be involved in whatever conversation was going to take place, but he had news to share about Reggie and figured he might as well take part.
Finally, Penelope emerged, her cheeks still flush.
“Pen…” Hana began.
“Let’s not discuss it,” Penelope said, holding up one palm. “Please knock from now on.”
“Done,” Hana agreed.
Penelope took a seat beside Hana on the soft. She considered sitting on Marshall’s lap, but thought better of it. The three of them had important matters to discuss. She would have to wait to be satisfied by Marshall. Hana’s entrance had killed the mood, anyway.
“What’s going on?” Penelope asked.
“I need to talk to you,” Hana said. “About… yesterday… and the party...”
“Okay.”
“Good,” Marshall added. “Even though the— ahem— timing could have been better, I need to talk to the two of you as well.”
“Who will go first?” Penelope asked.
“I will,” Hana said. “I haven’t talked to anybody else about what happened, but a strange woman has been following me.”
“A woman?” Marshall asked. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Hana replied. “I noticed her hanging out on the sidewalk in front of my building last night. Zeke Finley, the doorman, brought it to my attention, because she asked him about me by name.”
Hana lived in a condo like Penelope. Only hers was far more swanky.
“Interesting,” Penelope said. “What then?”
“She was out there again this morning, just standing around like she was waiting for me to leave,” Hana explained.
“What did she look like?” Marshall asked.
“That’s the odd part. She had white-blonde hair, much like our guy from yesterday. She was tall, and while beautiful in an intense sort of way, she looked tough for a woman. She could have been our guy’s sister, they favor each other so much.”
“Huh,” Marshall mused.
“That sounds like a setup for a spy movie,” Penelope said. “James Bond or something, no?”
“Hey, I’m feeling the Twilight Zone vibes here, too, but I’m just telling you what I saw.”
The three of them looked at each other intently. It was proving somewhat difficult to adjust to their new reality.
“Okay,” Marshall said, propping one ankle on the opposite knee. “Did she follow you when you left the building?”
“She did,” Hana said. “I told Zeke what I was doing and went out a back door, hoping she wouldn’t spot me. He tried to distract her, but when I pulled my Beamer around front, she saw me. I kid you not. The woman got on a motorcycle and trailed me around town. I made a few stops to see if she’d stay close. She did.”
“Did she follow you here?” Penelope asked, straightening her back to glance out an open window.
“I think so,” Hana replied.
Marshall jumped up and locked the deadbolt on the front door, then closed the windows.
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“Why would you lead her here?” he asked once he felt certain the place was closed up securely.
Hana rubbed her temple. “Because we agreed not to go to police yet. Where else should I have gone? It’s not like she attacked or even confronted me. She’s keeping her distance.”
Penelope looked at Marshall. “She has a point. If not the police, who else will protect her? It has to be us. We have to stick together.”
Marshall shook his head again. This was getting complicated.
“Hana,” Penelope continued. “What do you make of it?”
“I wish I knew. I think someone knows what I saw at the party with Audrey. They probably want to make sure I don’t talk.”
“If that’s true, then we’re in trouble,” Marshall said.
“Yeah, and we talked about this yesterday,” Hana added. “Sounds like you two have been too wrapped up in your whirlwind romance to focus on what’s most important right now.”
“We were just…” Penelope began.
“No, she’s right,” Marshall said. “I should have been working on this. I let myself get distracted.”
“Oh, but in a good way, dear,” Penelope added. “Don’t be hard on yourself. I could have done better, too.”
“How do you mean?” Marshall asked. “You did great yesterday at the bay. I was proud of you.”
Penelope took a deep breath, but didn’t let it out. Her body was prepared to hold it if what she said next wasn’t the truth.
“Pen?” Hana echoed.
“It’s that… well…” she stammered.
Sip. Sip.
Penelope knew she needed to get what she’d seen out in the open with Marshall and Hana. She could trust them. She thought so, anyway.
“It’s okay,” Marshall assured, leaning forward and squeezing Penelope’s knee.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just scared.”
“We all are right now,” Hana added. “Go on.”
Sip.
Penelope was tempted to lie. What she’d seen was worse than what Hana had. She wished she’d never been at that party in the first place. She wished she’d been sick, or injured, or anything, really, that could have kept her home that night. She didn’t want to speak the words, let alone have other people hear them.
Before she could open her mouth to describe what she’d seen, a loud knock sounded at the door.
11
Penelope’s heart jumped inside her chest when she heard the sound. Her hands shook, and she perspired.
“The blonde woman?” Penelope asked.
“Maybe,” Marshall said, walking to the box of his belongings at the table and retrieving a handgun. “We’ll find out.”
“You have a gun?” Penelope asked.
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’m trained to use it. One of the benefits of being a Marine. Truly, Pen, don’t stress about it. We might need a gun, and I have one. No big deal.”
Penelope looked at Hana, who raised her brows with surprise. She appeared to be in a near permanent state of shock lately. She didn’t offer an opinion on the knock or the gun.
Three more knocks rang out, even louder this time. Penelope thought they might break the door down; they were pounding so hard. Whoever it was meant business.
Marshall slid behind the door, his gun raised. Using his head, he motioned for Penelope to open it. Slowly, she looked through the peephole to do as he instructed. She could see two big men, one African-American and one Caucasian. Both tall and muscular. They didn’t seem like bad guys, although Penelope wasn’t sure what a bad guy looked like, anyway.
“I think it’s okay,” she whispered, turning around and giving thumbs up to Hana.
Penelope took a deep breath, then opened the door. The men smiled and held out badges. They were cops.
Thank God, Penelope thought.
“Ms. Penelope Cline?” the dark-skinned man asked. He seemed gentle, like a dad, even.
“That’s right.”
“I’m Detective Luke Hemming from the Rosemary Run Police Department. This is my partner, Detective Neil Fredericks. Can we come in?”
Penelope glanced at Marshall, asking his permission. She knew they’d decided not to talk to police yet. But here they were, on her doorstep. Marshall nodded, then put his gun in the waistband of his shorts and stepped into the doorway beside her.
“Yes, you may,” Penelope said, allowing them entry. “This is my… boyfriend… Marshall Erving. And on the sofa is my friend, Hana Kim.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Luke said as they shuffled inside. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
Penelope hadn’t told them where to sit, so they stood awkwardly just this side of the door. She closed and locked it behind them.
“Here, join us in the living room,” Marshall said, gesturing.
Even though Luke and Neil were big men, Marshall was taller than them both. He was used to being physically dominant. Other men knew it. These two were scoping him out, though. Maybe they recognized his short haircut and demeanor as former military.
“Thank you,” Luke said. He was apparently the designated good cop today. He seemed friendly and accommodating, while Neil remained expressionless.
“Ms. Cline,” Luke began.
“Please… call me Penelope.”
“Okay,” he continued, “Penelope, we have sensitive information to discuss. Might you like to do that alone?”
“Without your boyfriend and friend present?” Neil added.
Penelope looked at Marshall, who shrugged. He knew the police might try to split them up. It was a standard tactic. They’d question them individually, then compare notes to find any discrepancies in their stories. The three of them didn’t have a chance of evading police if it went down that way. The detectives were too good. Marshall also knew that it was early enough in the investigation that they wouldn’t be forced to split up, yet. He shook his head no.
Penelope followed Marshall’s lead. “I’m comfortable discussing whatever you want in front of my boyfriend and friend,” she said.
“Alright. Good,” Neil replied, walking to the living room and taking a seat in the armchair Marshall had occupied. Luke sat in a second armchair, while Penelope and Marshall sat beside Hana on the sofa.
“What can we do for you today, detectives?” Marshall asked.
Marshall acted strong and confident. Penelope liked it. She felt safe with him. She was strong in her own right, and she was brave. But she’d always wished that she didn’t have to be. Not all the time, anyway. No doubt, it went back to her childhood. She’d had to grow up fast. She appreciated the chance Marshall provided her to take a supporting role. It was a relief.
Luke didn’t skip a beat. “We’re here investigating the disappearance of a young lady named Audrey Ward. Did you know her?”
Penelope sipped air.
Sip. Sip. Hold.
This wasn’t good. The detectives had just begun, and Penelope’s body threatened to betray her. She could only hope they wouldn’t notice. She told herself to stay cool. She purposely avoided making eye contact with Hana or Marshall.
“I didn’t know her, exactly,” Penelope began. Technically true. “I heard that she was missing though. You know how fast word of something like that gets around.”
“I do,” Luke replied, pulling a small notepad out of the breast pocket of his jacket. Both men were wearing coats and ties.
“We all heard about it,” Marshall added. “A tragedy. I hope she’s found safe.”
Luke eyed Marshall skeptically. He seemed to be deciding whether he liked him or not.
“Did you attend a party two nights ago at a house in Sweet Balm Bay hosted by a Mr. Reginald Johns?”
“Yes,” Penelope said.
She knew there was no way to avoid that question. The police had probably already seen surveillance footage from Reggie’s. Or maybe they’d gotten hold of a guest list. Either way, it would be foolish to try to pretend she wasn’t there.
“All three of us were there,” Marshall added, his voice protective.
Hana nodded.
“And did any of you see Ms. Ward there that night?”
Sip. Sip. Sip. Sip. Hold.
Hana jumped in to take some pressure off of her friend.
“Not that I remember,” she lied.
That’s what they had agreed on, after all. Although, they had agreed not to tell the police what they knew until they did some investigating of their own. They hadn’t wanted to lie. Now it seemed inevitable that they do so.
“Not that you remember?” Luke asked. “Or no?”
“Not that I remember. No.”
Luke furrowed his brow, then scribbled something down in his notepad as Neil looked on.
“How about you, Mr. Erving? Did you see Ms. Ward at the party?”
“No,” Marshall said decisively, “and you can call me Marshall. You probably already know, but Reggie Johns was… is… my husband. I’ve just left him and Penelope and I are together now. But on the night of the party, I acted as co-host with Reggie. I was busy with hosting duties the whole night. It didn’t leave much time to mingle with guests.”
Penelope exhaled. Her breath was loud, but she hadn’t started sputtering yet. She had worried about Marshall’s answer, but she realized that she didn’t actually know if it was a lie. They hadn’t talked about what he’d seen that night. Maybe he was telling the truth. He sounded convincing.
Luke scribbled some more, then turned his attention back to Penelope.
Sip. Sip.
The stress mounted.
“Penelope, did you see Ms. Ward?”
Perspiration dotted Penelope’s temples as she squirmed. Her hands sweat, too. Her stomach felt woozy.
Sip. Hold.
Luke and Neil looked at each other, probably wondering about her breathing. Surely, they noticed it now.
“Penelope,” Luke tried, “are you okay?”
Against her will, it happened. Penelope exhaled in a loud burst, buzzing her lips and sputtering. Marshall bit his lip, resisting the urge to save her. Hana, too, looked pained.