“Lana, please.” His voice was firm.
The clanging sounds quieted, and Olivia could only hear murmuring coming from the kitchen. She turned her back to the turmoil, returning to her spot, looking out to the harbor, trying to act as inconspicuous as she could. More loud words were exchanged from what sounded like the bedroom, mostly from the female intruder. Olivia wondered exactly who Colton was and whether she had been smart to take him up on his invitation for dinner. Again she reminded herself she hadn’t had any other options. She suddenly felt stranded.
After an excruciatingly uncomfortable wait, the noise behind her subsided and the sound of the front door slamming shut announced the altercation’s conclusion. Colton returned and slipped next to her on the railing. Jake followed on his heels and curled up in his spot at the end of the gallery. No words were spoken. The silence became awkward until finally Olivia laughed softly and, not knowing what came over her, decided to poke fun.
“Colton, what have you gotten yourself tangled up in?” she teased, feeling a bit mischievous.
He grimaced and turned to her, visibly relieved she was showing her sense of humor. His eyes shifted to the floor. “You have no idea. . . . Wish I did before all this started. But now I think it’s finally over. I’m sorry about the intrusion. Let’s try to salvage the evening.” He gently touched the small of her back and motioned toward the chaise lounges facing out toward the harbor that was now quiet, except for a small boat traversing silently in the distance. His touch sent a tingle throughout her body.
The setting sun had brought dusk and eventual darkness as nightfall snuck in. Colton and Olivia settled into the two comfortable chairs, struggling to keep the conversation going. The length of the day and the effect of the beers had drained her energy. Before long, her body was so relaxed she was fighting to stay awake. Her head bobbed forward. Losing her fight, she forced herself to sit up.
“It’s probably late. I don’t want to keep you. This has been so pleasant. Thank you, Colton. I’m glad I met you. . . . Thank you for giving me a ride from the airport and an amazing dinner.” She hated to leave, but if she couldn’t keep her eyes open, she wasn’t going to be much of a companion.
Colton turned toward her, looking deep into her eyes. She held her gaze, waiting for a response.
“I’m glad we met, too. Thanks for coming to dinner.” He reached over and laid a strong hand on her forearm resting on the arm of the chaise.
“It was entirely my pleasure.” Olivia was trying to keep her emotions in check, maintain a safe distance. He was making it hard for her.
“So you’ve had enough of my view?” There was a twinkle in his eye. “Let me find my car keys, and I’ll give you a ride back.” They both stood up and Colton turned to head back into the house, pausing on the threshold. “Do you think your mother will be home by now? Did she know you were coming?”
Though they seemed liked casual questions, Olivia fought to maintain her composure.
Lingering in the doorway, Colton looked expectantly toward her. “She’ll probably be getting worried by—”
Olivia turned away from him and reached for the deck railing, uncomfortable with his intrusion into her mother’s situation. Her energy draining, but unable to avoid answering his question any longer, she finally spoke. “No, I know she’s not there.” Then she turned back and looked into his eyes.
The expression on his face made it clear he was looking for more of an explanation. Her eyes brimmed, but he stood silent, waiting for her to continue.
A tear rolled down her cheek. He stepped closer, reached out, and took hold of her right shoulder gently but firmly. “What’s going on?” His touch was warm. She was feeling mixed emotions, not sure which to fight off and which to embrace.
Another tear escaped and followed the first. “She’s gone. She’s . . . she passed away several days ago.” Her words hung in the air. She felt keenly alone, even with him standing next to her.
Colton looked stunned. “What happened? . . . So that’s why you’re here,” he deduced, putting the pieces together, speaking slowly and gently. His face showed concern for her. He removed his hand from her shoulder but remained close to her, waiting for her to answer.
Olivia took a deep breath and then tried to continue. “We . . . my father and I got a phone call telling us my mother had passed away unexpectedly. Some sort of an accident.” She turned her head and closed her eyes. The pain was still excruciatingly raw.
“Someone called you from here?”
She opened her eyes and nodded.
He pushed for more information. “Do you know who?”
“I thought I would remember his name. He said he was calling from the police station. . . . I can’t believe this is happening. And I don’t know why my mother’s car wasn’t in the driveway at the house.” Her head was spinning.
Looking pensive, Colton seemed to be considering her answers. “I am sorry, Olivia.” He paused, clearly thinking about what to do next. “Let me give you a ride back so you can crash and try to get some sleep tonight. Are you comfortable there alone?”
“Yeah.” She choked on the word.
“I’m going to see what I can find out in the morning. What’s your mother’s name?”
“Benning. Liv Benning. I was named after her.”
“And what kind of car did she have?”
“It’s a light blue Jeep Wrangler. Very similar to yours.”
“All right, Olivia. I’ll get you back to your place, and I will see what I can come up with tomorrow. Okay? . . . Hey, I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
“Thanks, I appreciate your help.” Feeling a little lightheaded, she was grateful when they opened the door to the cool night air.
They walked slowly without a sense of urgency to Colton’s car, his arm loosely around her. Jake trotted out alongside them. Colton guided Olivia to the passenger side and opened the door, giving her a hand into the Jeep. Shutting the door, he glanced down and saw his buddy looking up at him. Jake appeared puzzled he hadn’t been allowed to sit in the passenger seat as he usually did. Colton grinned and tugged on his collar, directing him around to the other side of the car. Then he opened the driver’s side door, pulled back the seat, and gestured for him to hop up into the back. Jake hesitated, took another look into Colton’s eyes, and then jumped in.
“Good boy, Jake. Good boy.” He brushed the top of his head.
They drove the short distance to her mother’s place in silence, weighed down by the gravity of the circumstances. In spite of it all, Olivia became quite drowsy. She was looking forward to putting her head on a pillow and dealing with the overwhelming situation in the morning.
As the Jeep came to a stop in front of the little bungalow, Olivia let out a long sigh in a feeble attempt to release some of the pent-up anxiety. Colton walked around and opened her door. No sooner had she exited, than Jake hopped into the front seat to take his usual spot, poking his head through the open window and wagging his tail exuberantly. He looked entirely pleased with himself.
Returning his arm loosely around her, Colton walked her to the door and saw to it she got in safely. He assured her he would be in touch the next day. Reaching out, he stroked her hair on one side and then slipped a kiss onto the top of her head.
The front door clicked as she closed it behind him. Although the inside of the house was unlit, moonlight streaming in through windows provided enough light for her to slowly make her way to her mother’s bedroom. Flipping the switch to the right of the door as she walked in illuminated a small lamp next to the bed on the far wall. The bed covers were still tossed to the side as they were earlier. It seemed strange she would be sleeping in her mother’s bed without her there.
“Mom, I wish you were with me, but I’m going to sleep here tonight. . . . Hope that’s okay.” Olivia was at a loss for what else to say. She fiercely wanted her mother to be home, at Serenity Villa.
After freshening up in the small bath, she returned to the
cozy bedroom and opened the two windows that framed the headboard. A salty sea breeze spilled into the room. The night air was invigorating, yet comforting, to her soul.
Yanking the covers down to the bottom of the bed, Olivia ran her hands across the sheet and pillows, checking for centipedes, millipedes, scorpions, and any other creepy crawlers that might be hiding there. She didn’t mind the critters when they were outside, but she had no intention of sharing a bed with them at night. After satisfying herself she would be sleeping alone, she replaced the bedding, pulled the mosquito netting around the four posts, and slipped under the light covers. Before long she was dozing lightly, the events of the day still swirling in her head.
A noise from the next room startled her awake.
CHAPTER TWO
Olivia froze in the bed. The sound was coming from her mother’s studio. An intruder? Should she lie still and pray they found nothing worth taking and moved on to another house? Should she get up and investigate, confronting the intruder? Beyond scared, her body stiffened. She didn’t know if she could move if she had to. As she lay there listening, some semblance of a defense mechanism locked in. This was her mother’s home, and she wasn’t going to let someone steal from her. Throwing the covers off, she pulled back the mosquito netting and bolted out of bed, into the office. Hoping to surprise the burglar, she flipped the light switch on the wall by the door. No one was there, yet the noise continued in the far right corner where the combination printer/copier/fax machine sat on the counter. A sheet of paper that hadn’t been there earlier dropped silently into the output tray. Slowly she crept toward it, scanning the room and tiptoeing as she went, fully expecting someone to pop out from under her mother’s worktable or any of the lower cupboards with doors.
Nearing the printer, she slowly reached for the paper. Just as she touched it, something hit the window next to her with a thump. She jumped back, knocking the paper from the tray. Landing hard against the edge of the worktable, Olivia tried to maintain eye contact with the window. Nothing was visible but she tried hard to convince herself it had just been a large moth attracted to the light inside the room. Were there Luna Moths in the Caribbean? There were certainly no birds out at night, and she simply couldn’t entertain the idea of it being anything human. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, her heart beating wildly. Finally she remembered the paper and bent down to recover it.
It appeared to be a handwritten note faxed to her mother.
Liv
I’ve been unable to reach you on your cell.
It’s been a while since we’ve connected.
Just wanted to be sure you’re ok.
Have some info for you. Please call my cell.
—CK
Staring at the sharp contrast of the black words on the white piece of paper, she wasn’t sure what to make of the note. Obviously someone was concerned about her mother. She wondered who CK was. There was no other information to go on. Not even a fax number from the originating machine. Staring at it was not going to change a thing, particularly not at such a late hour. Laying it back on the output tray, she decided she would revisit it in the morning.
CHAPTER THREE
Morning sunlight poked in through the windows and woke Olivia from a sound sleep. She was surprised at how well she had slept and how late the hour was. Swinging her legs over the side of the mattress, she endeavored to haul her achy body out of bed. The surprisingly squishy mattress was not exactly what she was used to, and she couldn’t fathom how her mother could sleep on it on a regular basis. Shuffling to the kitchen, she craved a cup of tea. Perhaps some plain toast. When the bay came into view off to her left she stopped in her tracks. Stunning. The sun was bright, not a cloud in the deep blue sky. She looked beyond Magens Bay, out to Hans Lollik Island, an uninhabited island she found intriguing. If only she could afford to buy such an island and have it all to herself. Delightful to dream about. Complete privacy. Yet at a huge cost. To resemble any sort of civilization, water and electricity would have to be run out to it. Certainly not in her budget.
A grumbling stomach brought her back from the horizon. Then the reality sank in she had no clue what was in the cupboards. Bracing herself for the unexpected, she pulled open two light blue wooden doors at a time, rummaging through her mother’s kitchen, still not brave enough to open the refrigerator door. Her mother’s inventory consisted of a couple cans of tuna, open packages of crackers and whole wheat wraps Olivia assumed were stale, cans of tomato sauce, dry elbow macaroni, a British-label instant hazelnut coffee, and powdered milk. The last two items puzzled her. She wasn’t sure why her mother would have those on hand but let it go to move on to more important matters. Wrinkling her nose, she decided her late breakfast was going to consist of tuna and some stale crackers. Unfortunately she was not a big fan of tuna, but she was desperate. She was also not a big coffee drinker, especially instant. Instead, she settled for a glass of water but longed for a cup of tea.
After struggling with a handheld can opener, she carried her meager breakfast out to an old bistro table on the gallery, reasoning her food might taste better if she ate it outside. Sitting down before she realized the chairs might need wiping off, she guessed her backside had just taken care of one of them. Slowly she tried to make her way through the tuna, forcing herself to chew and swallow. Before long, it became unbearable to ingest anymore and chewing came to a grinding halt. Staring at the crackers, she decided they weren’t doing anything for her either. Breakfast was over but she was still hungry. Pushing back her chair, she gazed out to the bay. The beautiful turquoise water had a way of distracting her.
The sound of a car engine brought her back from the view. Colton appeared on the side of the house and made his way around to the back gallery. Trying to restrain the grin bursting from inside, she was tickled to see him.
“Hey, Olivia, good morning.”
He looked a little sleepy, as if he hadn’t been awake any longer than she had. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
“Good morning, Colton.” She glanced at his hands, which carried a to-go cup in one and a small bakery bag in the other.
Smiling as he noticed what her eyes had discovered, he held out the breakfast goodies. “Thought you might need something to start your day. I didn’t know how you take your coffee. It’s black but there should be stuff in the bag.”
Struggling to contain even a hint of excitement on her face, she thanked him as she took the coffee and small white paper bag from him, touched by his thoughtfulness. The coffee wasn’t her first choice, but she decided to drink it anyway after stirring in all available creamers and sugars. Longing to see what was in the bag, she took a quick peek. He had brought a light yet buttery croissant and a large muffin loaded with blueberries. It took tremendous willpower to restrain herself from diving head first into the bag of baked delights.
“Mind if I sit?” He pointed toward the empty chair at the bistro table.
“Oh, of course! Please have a seat and . . . and enjoy my view.” Her face blushed with embarrassment that she hadn’t offered him a chair and he had to ask. She had been too focused on the food.
He nodded, turning toward the bay, seeming to appreciate the boundless views of the island from the little bungalow.
“Another gorgeous morning in the Caribbean.” He leaned back in the chair and stretched his tan, muscular legs.
“Absolutely perfect.”
“It’s nice to see this side of island for a change . . . not that I’m tired of my view, but change is good.” They sat in silence for a while as they both drank in the beauty of the island. She polished off the croissant and moved on to the muffin, taking sips of sugary sweet, watered-down coffee in between bites.
With a glance over to the side yard, Olivia admired the beautiful Adirondack-style chair painted in a bright turquoise blue and situated off to the side by itself but with a great view of Magens Bay. She had fond memories of her mother sitting in that chair for extended periods of time
, garnering inspiration. Olivia wondered how long it had been since she had enjoyed it.
Finally she felt the need to break the silence. “So, how long did you say you’ve lived here, Colton?” With a little food in her stomach, she could finally focus on conversation.
“Almost ten years.” He scanned the horizon and appeared to be recalling the details. “I came here on a whim with a friend.”
Olivia was interested in hearing more but he had another idea in mind, changing the subject.
He turned back toward her, looking contemplative. “I didn’t get up this morning as early as I had planned. I haven’t been downtown yet. I’m sorry. I know I said I would—”
“No problem.” She couldn’t very well fault someone who had volunteered to help her.
“I did take a few minutes last night and did a search on my iPad to see if I could find anything about your mother’s disappearance or a boating accident or anything related to that in the area. Unfortunately I came up empty. There was nothing at all that popped up.”
As Olivia listened intently to his words, her eyes grew wide. She didn’t recall saying anything about a boating accident to him the night before. She kept her eyes locked on his face, trying to read him.
“I did learn a little bit about your mother, though, on a professional basis. Very impressive.”
Looking across the top of her Styrofoam coffee cup at him, she grew uncomfortable as he smiled broadly. A corner of her mouth turned up in response, yet she was unsure how she felt about him doing a search on her mother.
“She’s quite a lady. Obviously very talented.”
“Yeah. She’s is quite a lady. An amazing talent. I learned everything I know about photography from her. . . . You know what, Colton, if you could drop me at the police station. I think it makes sense for me to start there.” She stood up, leaving half of a muffin on the table. Taking control of the conversation, she was determined to make it clear she had a sense of urgency and was going to take charge. “Thanks again for breakfast. That was sweet of you.”
The Empty Chair ~ Murder in the Caribbean Page 4