Butterfly Cove

by Christina Skye

  “You don’t look so good. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  When he walked toward her, lean and tall in his uniform, sunlight struck the badge at his chest. Olivia heard the creak of leather at his belt and knew that he was carrying a service weapon.

  And though it was the last thing she wanted, Olivia was comforted by his presence, anchored by his quiet strength.

  “Okay, you’re right. I’m not feeling very well.” She spoke stiffly. “I have a pill I should take when this...happens.” Her hands shook slightly as she leaned over the counter for her bag. She hadn’t really told anyone about the panic attacks—and the medication she had started taking to help deal with them.

  Rafe’s fingers curved around hers. He held her shoulders gently and guided her to the chair at the window. “I’ll get the bag and the water. I’ll put hot water on for tea. Shouldn’t you eat something when you take medicine?”

  Food was so far from Olivia’s mind that she laughed. “Maybe later. But tea sounds good. It’s in the red canister next to the teapot.”

  “Got it.” He moved with quiet efficiency, and though the kitchen was not his own, he seemed to be at ease. While the water bubbled, Olivia focused on her breathing exercises and watched gray waves rise lazily and then crash on the beach.

  She began to feel better. Her hands slowly unclenched. The thunder of her heartbeat grew quieter. She hadn’t even taken her pill yet, and she had held back the attack. The knowledge made her stronger than a whole bottle of pills.

  “Tea’s ready. I found something called Raspberry Herbal Zinger.” Rafe smiled wryly. “Here’s your water and the bottle I found in your purse.” He pulled out a chair and sat beside her. There was no judgment or curiosity in his face. He was simply calm. Simply a friend helping a friend in difficulty.

  Olivia remembered that he had always known how to keep his head in the middle of a storm, even as a boy. People remembered Rafe for his misbehavior and his bad-boy charm, but she remembered him for his strength. He had always been a good listener when few other people in her life bothered.

  She took the pill and then added two spoonfuls of sugar to her tea. “My other vice, along with the caramel apples. I love dark sweet tea.” She cut off her nervous chatter and then faced him directly. “You’re not going to ask?”

  They both knew that she was referring to whatever it was that left her white-faced and sweating, her hands clenched on the table.

  Rafe frowned at Olivia’s tense fingers. “No, I’m not going to ask. I figured I would just make you tea and we could sit here. If we talk, that’s fine. If we don’t talk, that’s fine, too.”

  The way he said it, Olivia knew he meant it. He was comfortable in his own skin. He could sit here in the quiet house and say nothing and it wouldn’t bother him a bit. How many men could you say that about?

  The fact that he didn’t barrage her with questions gave her the strength to face him. To really see him.

  And to allow him to really see her.

  “I get them. Anxiety attacks. I’ve had them...since I was fourteen. Nobody knows,” she said slowly. “Not even Jilly. My father sent me to a psychiatrist up in Seattle. All he wanted to do was give me medication. I took the pills for a week and flushed the rest down the toilet. They didn’t help the anxiety. All they did was make me feel weird and disconnected. I told the doctor that, but he didn’t seem to care.”

  Rafe sat silently for long moments. “And so you dealt with it yourself. You’ve been dealing with this yourself all these years?”

  Olivia nodded. “I never told my father they were worse. It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

  Rafe poured his own cup of tea. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t take them if you need them and if they help you. But it doesn’t sound like that particular set of pills was doing you any good.” He added sugar to his tea, not looking at Olivia. “Jilly says sugar and lemon ruin Earl Gray. But I can’t break the habit. When I was over there in the field, I could be gone for days. And I always thought about hot tea. Good tea, made with lemon and sugar, just like this. It seemed like an impossible luxury, but I kept it in my mind, telling myself I would get through everything and then I would have tea anytime I wanted. No more shouting. No more bullets or IEDs.” His eyes darkened. “Strange what we fixate on to get us through hard times,” he said quietly.

  Olivia watched him squeeze more lemon into the tea and stir it slowly. His fingers were long and agile. He moved them slowly back and forth over the rim of the teacup, and the sight made something flutter in her chest.

  She cleared her throat. “You’re in uniform. Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?”

  “I am on duty. I just swung by to make sure everything was okay here.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be? I didn’t call in with any problems.”

  “Serve and protect, Livie. Jilly told me to check in on you. I try to drive down every street in town at least once a day. You know Mrs. Granger over by the bank? I found her trying to climb a tree to get her cat down. She’s eighty if she’s a day. She could have broken every bone in her body. I finally got the cat down—and I still have the claw marks to show for it,” he said dryly.

  “A dangerous assignment.”

  “You’re damn right. Yesterday I drove by the old beach road and found four high school kids down there drinking and necking. One of the girls’ fathers showed up and he was carrying a gun. That wasn’t so amusing. I managed to talk them all out of doing something they would regret. Gave them the name of a family therapist, and I told them the visit wasn’t optional. They would all go or they would be looking at the inside of a jail cell.”

  Olivia watched his long fingers cradle the teacup, listening to the gravity of his voice. “That should help them more than time in a cell.”

  Rafe shrugged. “You can only do what you can do. That’s another thing I’ve learned.” He looked up and then he reached through the sunlight, his hands sliding down over hers. “You want to tell me what’s going on? And why your panic attacks are getting worse?”

  “Who said they’re getting worse?”

  “You did. Not in words. Because you seemed surprised and you look like you’re struggling to keep that surprise out of sight, from yourself as well as from me. That means something’s changed. You want to tell me about that?” he said quietly.

  “No. I don’t want to tell you.”

  He chuckled slightly and shook his head. “Tough. I’m not going away until I hear the whole story. So I’m staying here, and I’m going to continue to sit here until you talk to me. You know I can be a very patient man, Livie.” He glanced at the clock. “I’m off duty in ten minutes. I’m going to call Tom and have him clock me out early. So don’t think you’re getting rid of me.”

  Olivia looked away, squeezing her eyes together tightly. The tea was working, warming her up, and she could feel the steady pressure of Rafe’s hands on hers, strong and warm.

  And because he didn’t press her but only sat calmly, one hand on hers while he drank his tea, Olivia took a deep breath and began to talk. The words she had never said before seemed to well up from deep inside her. First she gave him the facts, like the dizziness and the shortness of breath, the nausea and the sweating. She told him what happened next, the way her brain seemed to get stuck, caught in repeating circles until she couldn’t escape from the fear. But she was coming to understand herself and the triggers that started a cascade of anxiety. She told him about that, too, along with the relaxation exercises and the journaling exercises that she was practicing.

  Rafe listened to all of it without expression or questions. He simply nodded now and then, as if he understood. Because she felt calm, Olivia told him about the situation with her father—how he had lost his clarity at the end of his life and along with that had managed to lose everything but this house.

  Rafe looked stunned. “There’s nothing left? I don’t know much about your father, but he always struck me as being very care
ful. He didn’t seem like a gambler or a big risk taker where money was concerned. So what happened?”

  “Not a clue. His banker and his executor have both been through all the papers. There’s no sign of other bank accounts. But he was losing his faculties at the end of his life. He could have done anything with his accounts...” She frowned down at the tea, growing cold on the table in front of her. “A little while ago I found this up in the attic.”

  Olivia pushed the dusty key across the table toward Rafe. “It’s from the bank. But I can’t get into the vault because I was never listed as one of his agents or cosigners. There’s no way to know what’s inside or even if the box was his. I could get a court order and have the box opened, couldn’t I?”

  “As long as it’s registered in your father’s name, and you’re one of his heirs, it shouldn’t be too hard to arrange.” Rafe picked up the key and studied it. “He never told you about this?”

  She shook her head. “He had another box at the bank. When we opened it, all it had was old tax records and a few other documents. But this is a different box. He never mentioned it to anyone that I know of.” Olivia blew out a breath. “And then there’s his boat. I just heard about that from his business manager. Tomorrow I’m going to meet Martin Eaglewood there and check the boat out. You remember him, don’t you?”

  Rafe nodded, but his eyes were narrowed. “I’m off tomorrow. Why don’t I tag along?”

  She managed a smile. “What do you think I’m going to find, old Playboy magazines? Laundered drug money?”

  “Knowing your father, I doubt that. But that’s the problem. You don’t know what you’re going to find. That’s why I don’t want you to go there alone.” Rafe refilled the teapot carefully, and Olivia had the sense that he was choosing every word he said. “If you don’t want me along, ask Jilly and Walker to go with you. How well do you know this business adviser of his?”

  “Martin? He’s handled my father’s affairs forever. At least thirty years.” Olivia frowned. “If Martin Eaglewood is crooked, then Santa Claus is crooked, too. I simply refuse to believe there’s any problem like that.”

  Rafe rubbed his neck. “Probably it’s nothing. You’ll take a look and clean out whatever he left behind. All the same, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to some of the neighbors. Ask a few questions and see if any other people had visited the boat with him.”

  Olivia sat up very straight. “What do you mean, other people? You think someone was there with him?”

  “I don’t think anything. I’m just saying that it would be a good idea.” Rafe took a sip of tea and looked out over the harbor. “It’s better to be prepared. That’s what I’m saying. I can be here to pick you up whenever you want.”

  Olivia didn’t plan to say yes, but the words tumbled out. If Rafe wanted to spend his day on a wild-goose chase with her, who was she to complain? The hard thing was separating her anxiety issues from the general mess of her father’s financial affairs. She told herself it was nothing, and he had simply forgotten to mention the boat to her.

  When Olivia looked up, she realized that Rafe was staring at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just asked you a question. Twice, as a matter of fact. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, and I thought you might have dinner with me.”

  “Dinner?” Olivia cleared her throat. “Now?”

  “That’s right. Two people. One table. A lot of food. It’s a fairly civilized process,” he said dryly.

  “I know what dinner means,” she snapped. “It’s just that I...” What excuse could she make that didn’t sound ridiculous? “I was going to call it a night. I’m tired and we’ve been working hard finishing up at the Harbor House.”

  Rafe didn’t move.

  “I’m not just brushing you off, Rafe. I’d like to have dinner with you. Really.” She looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

  “Then do it. Tonight. Right now,” he said flatly. “We’ll just share a little conversation and some good food. What’s there to be afraid of in that?”

  “I’m not afraid of having dinner with you,” Olivia shot back.

  She was cut off by a loud knocking over her head. She froze as another loud thump echoed from the attic near the side of the house. Her eyes flashed to Rafe’s.

  He put a finger over his lips, shaking his head, warning her against making any noise. When he looked around the kitchen, Olivia realized he was trying to remember the layout of the house and the fastest way upstairs.

  She crossed the room silently and pointed to the back stairway that led to the attic. Rafe nodded. Olivia noticed that his hand reached behind him. He slid something leather away from his holster that held his service weapon.

  Olivia drew in a slow breath, chilled by that single movement. When Rafe reached the bottom step he stopped, listening intently.

  Olivia heard a low hum.

  And then the lights went out.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  IN THE SUDDEN darkness, every sound seemed magnified. The main thing that Olivia noticed was the hammering of her heart. She heard a soft creak.

  Rafe’s hands rose, touching her shoulder. “I’m going up.” His voice was low, cold. “Stay here.”

  Olivia didn’t even think of arguing. If someone was in the attic, he would be far better equipped to deal with it. But she knew one thing that he would need.

  Olivia slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Carefully she triggered the application that changed it into a flashlight. “Take this,” she whispered. “Touch the center button for the light.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “My service flashlight is out in the car.” His strong fingers brushed against hers. “Stay here. I don’t want to be wondering where you are in the dark if anything happens.”

  “I won’t go up. But if you yell or I hear a gunshot—let me know what happened. I don’t want to sit here worrying about you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry for whoever made that sound,” Rafe said grimly.

  Olivia heard a faint rustle of clothing in the darkness and then he was gone.

  * * *

  OLIVIA STOOD NEAR the base of the stairs, one hand on the wall as the seconds crept past. She heard no sounds from the attic. The power was still off.

  She turned to the big kitchen window and glanced over the hillside toward town. A few lights were on, but all the houses near hers were dark. Maybe there was a problem with the power line that serviced the hillside. That happened occasionally after a storm or mudslide.

  She looked out at the houses with power and tried to figure out where they were, but it was hard to know. She was too distracted, worrying about Rafe.

  Something hit her shoulders and she swung around, striking blindly with her fists.

  “Hey.” Rafe gave a muffled oath. “I’m friendly.” The light came on from her cell phone.

  It felt as if he had been gone an hour. “Did you find anything?”

  “Nobody up there. I found a few nuts by a window that was open a crack. That might have been the sound we heard, maybe from squirrels. When was the last time you checked the windows up there?”

  Olivia paced the kitchen. “Earlier this afternoon. That’s when I found the key I told you about. But I’m almost certain all the windows were closed. No one else was in the house after that.”

  “Are you sure all the windows were closed? Did you check them?”

  “I didn’t smell outside air. Nothing looked touched. But if you mean did I actually lean down and check each window, the answer is no.”

  Rafe didn’t look riled by her answer. He nodded slowly. “One of them might have been opened. A squirrel can squeeze through a pretty small crack.

  Olivia’s hands twisted back and forth. She bit back her fear and focused instead on anger at the thought that this might be a prank. “How can I be sure? How am I going to sleep, wondering...what made that noise?”

  Rafe glanced down the hill at the line of houses. “I’m going to check in at the s
tation. I want to see if there’s been a power outage reported, and you’re going to come with me while I do that.” He took her hand and turned her around, heading toward the back door. “After we have a sitrep, we’ll decide what to do next.”

  Olivia cleared her throat. She felt a little light-headed. “Sitrep?”

  “It’s a military term. A field situation report. And don’t bother arguing with me.” His voice hardened. “Because there’s no way in hell that you’re staying here alone tonight, Livie.”

  * * *

  RAFE CHECKED IN at the station. There was a power outage, all right. It covered part of the hillside, but it didn’t cover the street near Olivia’s house.

  That meant something else had cut off her power.

  Rafe didn’t lie to her. He laid out the possibilities, keeping his voice neutral and calm. He saw her struggle with anxiety. After what she had told him, he realized that this whole situation was harder for her than he had thought.

  So he changed clothes, logged off duty and then guided her out to his car. No matter what she said, they were going to have dinner.

  Rafe tried not to think about what would happen after that.

  * * *

  SITTING IN THE old downtown diner was uncomfortable, to say the least. Everyone in town recognized Rafe by now. There was open curiosity when Olivia walked in with him. When they sat down to eat, more than a few disapproving glances were sent their way. People in Summer Island clearly remembered Rafe Russo’s more outrageous antics growing up. A number of people in the room made it obvious they did not care for the idea of Rafe and Olivia being involved.

  Even if it was only for a leisurely dinner.

  That thought left Olivia furious. Rafe had served his country bravely and now he was serving the community in law enforcement. Nobody in this town had any right to look down on him. He had changed and they needed to see that.

  In her anger about his treatment, Olivia laughed a little louder and sat a little closer than she might have. If it gave Rafe the wrong impression, Olivia decided she would explain later.