by Geri Krotow
Opal fussed with the plants a bit more. “You have to keep them watered or they won’t live past July.”
“Got it. Thanks again.”
Opal looked at her watch. “I’ve gotta get back to work. It’s super busy after three.”
Most of the day workers arrived at the base between six and eight in the morning. The long line of exiting vehicles started after three, but Gwen didn’t think they’d be buying coffee at that time of day.
“People buy coffee this late in the afternoon?”
“Oh, yeah. More of the dessert drinks, like my frozen coffees.”
“I have to hand it to you, Opal. You’ve been very successful.”
Opal shrugged. “I knew what I was doing when I decided to sell an addictive substance.”
“Yes, I imagine that’s a good business move.” It didn’t hurt that Opal had positioned her Koffee Hut drive-through on the busiest part of the island, near the base.
“You know, there are four drive-through coffee places outside the base gates. We all do very well. If Drew ever wanted to switch to another business, he could open one.”
“It takes a special talent to run a retail business. Sounds like you’ve got it.” Gwen needed to be alone with her thoughts and then call Ro.
“Well, thanks for inviting me in. I’ll see you around.”
Opal left as quickly as she’d come. But instead of the front door, she went to the kitchen side door and let herself out, unlocking the dead bolt Drew had installed after her last surprise visit.
Gwen stared at the door for a long moment before she walked over and threw the bolt back in place.
She turned and studied the basket. What had looked like a pretty jumble of blooms didn’t seem as attractive close-up. The plants had been taken out of their original pots and shoved next to each other with no potting soil to join them. She fingered a spider plant set beside a geranium.
They were only two of at least a half dozen examples of a houseplant being planted with an outdoor garden flower.
Opal might know the coffee business, but she didn’t know anything about flowers.
Fine. Lots of people had no interest in gardening. Just as she had no interest in running a business. Opal’s choice of plants and the way she’d arranged them seemed so haphazard to Gwen. As though it had been hastily done to please her.
Or fool her.
* * *
WHEN DREW DIDN’T come in after she heard the garage door open, she went looking for him.
She found him under the hood of his car.
“I never heard you drive up.”
“No reason you should have. Were you getting some rest?” He didn’t look up from his task—checking the oil level in his engine. His T-shirt stretched over his muscles and she remembered why her attraction to him had never truly faded.
“No, I was cleaning out some of the kitchen cupboards.”
It wasn’t quick enough for her to miss his swift appraisal of her in her workout shirt and exercise tights.
“Were you on the treadmill earlier?”
“Actually, I went for a walk.”
He straightened up and closed the hood. His jeans fit snugly in all the right places as he leaned against the car.
“By yourself?”
“Nappie’s not up to it. She’s getting old, isn’t she?”
“That’s not the point, Gwen. You shouldn’t go out on your own.”
“I stayed in the neighborhood, and I’m already driving on my own. I’m going into the squadron every day, for heaven’s sake!”
He frowned. “Did you tell anyone else you were going out?”
“No. Look, I appreciate the concern, and I’m not denying that I have PTSD, but I’m fine, Drew. I’m not going to get well doing just half days at work. Besides, a girl can only handle so many episodes on HGTV.”
“Text me or Ro next time you decide to take a jaunt. Better yet, why don’t you use the base gym?”
Tension shimmered between them and Gwen wished she’d stayed inside instead of seeking him out.
“I’m not your responsibility, Drew.”
“Aren’t you?” His gaze lowered to her lips. There were at least four feet of space between them, yet that one glance of his made it feel like a mere whisper of air.
She swallowed. “No.”
He stared at her lips for a beat too long, and she curled her fingers into her palms. The movement seemed to shake him out of his thoughts.
“Why did you come out here?” he asked. “Did you need to talk to me?”
He moved away from the car; the space between them became even smaller. Gwen reflexively stepped back, only to topple backward over whatever garage junk her feet had hit.
Drew’s hands closed over her upper arms the second before she would’ve landed on the concrete floor. He yanked her up, saving her from a nasty fall.
His body heat, combined with the feel of his hands on her arms, intoxicated her in the time it took her to draw a breath. Attempting a laugh, she raised her eyes to his.
Big. Mistake.
She barely recognized the heat in his eyes before he closed them and lowered his lips to hers.
And dammit, she kissed him back as if she’d been the one to start it. As if this was why she’d walked out here.
Isn’t it?
He smelled like coffee and gasoline. His scent wasn’t the only thing driving her crazy with lust. It was the way his lips were at once gentle yet confident in their touch, the way his hands seemed to revere her while taking very naughty detours in and under her clothes, the way he whirled her around and pressed her against the side of the car.
She tried to lose herself in their kiss, but her mind wouldn’t shut up. As much as she tried to compare this to how they’d been before, how they’d kissed and made love during their marriage, nothing came up.
This was different. New.
At that revelation she pulled back, her hands on his chest.
“Drew...”
“If you say ‘we can’t’ I’m going to lose it, Gwen.”
“I can’t.”
* * *
HER EYES WERE full of his kiss. He’d put that expression on her face, the wondering, the arousal.
“Why are we fighting it, Gwen?”
“I can’t do this, Drew. We’re having some kind of post-deployment reunion thing here, and it’s going to end. I don’t want to come close to what either of us went through before. I have a child to consider now.”
He dropped his hands to his sides but didn’t step back. She was still leaning against the car and he could kiss the common sense out of her.
But he didn’t.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DREW HEARD THE doorbell through the blare of the football game on television. Nappie snored in her round bed. Poor dog was going deaf. He looked at the digital readout on his laptop, where he was reviewing patient files.
Ten-thirty at night. Not good. He could think of only one person it might be...
“Drew? Did you hear the bell?” Gwen called down from the bedroom where she’d all but hidden from him since he’d rebuffed her attempts to comfort him after Dottie’s death.
“I’ll get it,” he said.
He placed his laptop on the coffee table and got up from the recliner.
A quick look through the peephole confirmed his premonition.
He opened the door. “Cole.”
“Drew. Do you have a second?”
“Come on in.”
Cole Ramsey stepped across the threshold and wasted no time once Drew shut the door. Cole’s face was neutral but his eyes looked as if he’d seen a ghost.
Drew groaned. “Spit it out, Cole.”
“We have the autopsy report
s.”
“And?”
“They’re inconclusive, but there are no indications of death by natural causes. No stroke, no cardiac event. The coroner left them at inconclusive only because she didn’t have every hallmark of a drowning victim.”
“Oh, my God.” Drew shook his head. “She wasn’t under long enough, Cole. There’s no way her lungs could have filled up that quickly. We got her out, got the water out of her in seconds.”
They walked into the living area where the television, muted, played the football game. Drew motioned for Cole to sit down.
“What do you think, Cole?”
“I think something is really wrong here. You’re positive Serena’s happy working for you, that she had no misgivings about Dottie Forsyth?”
“Of course! Serena went through a pretty crazy time last year, but her husband had been killed in the war. That’s enough to make anyone crazy.”
“Hi, Cole.” Gwen had come downstairs.
Shit.
He didn’t want her involved in this any more than she already was. And he didn’t want to worry about what effect the news would have on her.
But he could tell she’d heard the entire conversation from the landing.
“Gwen.” Cole nodded.
“You know Drew and Serena didn’t do it, Cole.”
“I agree that Drew isn’t a murderer, Gwen, but the evidence is damning. With only him and Serena to back themselves up, it’s dicey.”
“You checked our phone records. You know I was on the phone with Gwen. Everything’s matched up with what we told you. Dottie wasn’t alone for more than two minutes.”
“Actually, it was three minutes. Add another ten or twenty seconds for Serena to write down the notes she did about the call from the orthopedic surgeon who managed one of your clients. I can’t prove Serena didn’t go to the bathroom, though, or get herself a cup of coffee before she went back to check on the victim. We only have her word and the autopsy evidence, combined with the phone records. The prosecuting attorney won’t put personal judgments into the equation.”
“Of course Serena didn’t get a damned cup of coffee, Cole! I don’t run that kind of shop. Serena is top-notch.”
“Point taken. But we still have a dead body in your aquatracker while you and Serena were the only two employees present.”
“But who would’ve wanted to kill Dottie? And why?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
“What motive could Drew or Serena possibly have to murder a client, much less one they liked?” Gwen asked as Drew sat down.
He might go to prison for something he didn’t do. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Serena hang for this, if it came down to it.
The ultimate accountability was his.
“Are you going to arrest me, Cole?”
“There’s no evidence that you had any intent to commit murder, Drew. You’re probably going to be charged with negligent homicide by the family, yes. I have no plans to arrest you at the moment.”
“At the moment. That’s encouraging.” He’d worked his ass off, hung on for six months thinking he might never see Gwen again, for this? To have a tragic accident put his career, his life, on ice?
“Drew, maybe you should call a lawyer now.” Gwen’s voice broke through his mental screams. He’d never thought she’d stay as long as she had, and he certainly hadn’t expected her to stay around and watch his life implode when the Island County Sheriff’s Department came knocking.
“I will. Do I need one?” he asked Ramsey. They were pals, had been buds until five minutes ago.
“Not this minute, not tonight, but you’d better get one in the morning.” Ramsey put his notepad away. “Drew, the problem is there weren’t any prints on the dials. None.”
“Which means someone wiped them.”
“Yes, or that you normally use a towel when you operate that piece of equipment.”
“I told you, we don’t. There should’ve been prints all over that control panel!” His fingers itched to put a fist through the drywall next to him.
This is going to freak Gwen out. She’s too fragile right now.
“What do you know about Serena’s relationship to Dottie?” Cole asked. The question was unexpected.
“Relationship? Other than that between client and provider?”
“Did Serena or Dottie every mention anything?”
“No. Where is this coming from, Cole?”
Cole tapped his notebook against his thigh. “Turns out Serena was Dottie’s biological niece. Dottie’s brother fathered her with a housemaid on their family ranch. Her brother never told the family until shortly before his death, and Serena was raised to believe her father was someone else. After Serena’s husband was killed, she found out about her biological roots and at Dottie’s invitation came out to Whidbey for a fresh start, and to get to know Dottie.”
“Serena’s related to Dottie?” Drew whistled. “She never mentioned it. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner, Cole?”
“I had to make sure you didn’t know about it. Part of my job description.”
“Damn it, Cole, you know neither Serena nor I did this.”
“Needless to say it gives her a motive.”
Drew’s head snapped up. “Dottie didn’t have any money, Cole. Not from what I know.”
“But she has a house and left enough to leave someone fairly comfortable.”
“Serena has her husband’s life insurance from the military. Her son is entitled to benefits for tuition because of his dad’s sacrifice. Serena’s not your person, Cole.”
“I’m only stating the facts, Drew.”
Why hadn’t Serena said anything to him? Why hadn’t Dottie?
Families were complicated.
“What’s next?” Drew asked Cole.
Ramsey stared at him. It wasn’t the usual friendly expression Ramsey wore when they shared a beer at the Dutch pub in Coupeville.
“Calm down, get a lawyer like I’ve told you at least twice and go over everyone you come into contact with on a daily basis. Make notes. Someone wants you or Serena pegged for murder.”
“Easy for you to tell me to calm down. You’re not going to jail!”
* * *
GWEN TRIED NOT to wince when Drew blew up at Ramsey’s comment.
“Drew, I can help you through this. We’ve been together almost every minute of the past month, since I’ve been back.” She turned toward Ramsey.
“You verified that we were on the phone at the time of the murder, right? Through the phone-company records? I didn’t hear anyone else in the background. The other patients only witnessed him in his office.”
“Gwen, stay out of it. Ramsey knows how to do his job.”
“I’ve got the phone records, Gwen, and yes, Drew’s alibi is corroborated by witness reports. He didn’t go into the aquatracker room until Serena called for help. Look, I believe you,” Cole said, raising his hands.
“Drew pulled her body out of the water when it normally takes up to three people. He knows the equipment in his sleep. They had an emergency drill with the aquatracker the week before. Not what someone who was getting ready to kill a patient would do.”
“Again, I agree with you. Drew’s my friend, too, Gwen. That’s why I’m suggesting he get an attorney, and be prepared for the worst. Unless someone comes out of the woodwork with an unexpected explanation, or Serena admits she wanted Dottie dead, Drew is facing full culpability. At least on the insurance front.”
Which meant Drew’s clinic was done. He might be paying Dottie’s family forever.
Gwen looked at Drew. He stood back from her and Cole, his arms protectively crossed in front of his chest. The misery on his face was heartbreaking.
“We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” she vowed.
* * *
“SMALL SKIM LATTE, and whatever this lady wants.” Ro motioned to Gwen.
“I’ll have a double whipped almond dream.” Gwen smiled at Ro’s shock. “Hey, I’ve earned it. And thank you very much, by the way.”
Ro paid for the order and they went to the end of the counter to wait for their drinks. They’d come in Gwen’s car to the cute little coffee shop in town, instead of taking a regular lunch break.
“Can we get out of here, maybe go to the beach?” Gwen needed to talk to her best friend.
“Sure, honey. You okay?”
“The noise at the squadron is getting to me. No, make that the people—it’s hard to run into so many people and not have anything to say. Everyone looks at me as if I’m a walking head case.”
At Ro’s concerned glance Gwen rolled her eyes.
“Please, I have to know that you still accept me as the nut I’ve always been. Otherwise I’m going to take my monster drink and go home.”
Ro laughed. “No worries here.”
They collected their drinks and walked out to the parking lot together, then piled into Ro’s car and took off.
Instead of City Beach, which was two minutes away, Ro drove them out to West Beach, where the tall cliffs dropped over two hundred feet to the rocky shore.
“Why here, Ro?”
They were parked on the side of the road, facing the ocean.
“It’s a great place to watch for whales. Too cloudy today, granted, but still, I love it here.” Ro sipped her coffee before she turned to Gwen. “This is where Miles and I started to fall in love.”
“Parked in a car on West Beach?”
“Not quite. Over there.” Ro pointed toward the beach, a bit south of where they sat. “That’s where the body of the sailor killed by the Commodore was found. Do you remember when I had to work that case?”
“Of course I do. I’ve been through more than I ever thought I could handle, but I still have my memory, thank God.”
“I didn’t think Miles and I would ever make a go of it. There were times during that investigation that I thought we were done for. But we made it, and now we’re married.”