“Lead the way.”
He followed her up the stairs to her bedroom. The chests and tables sat out from the walls about four feet, but the bed was still only a few inches out. The curtains and bedding had disappeared, and the weak autumn light flooded the space.
“I couldn’t move the bed by myself. I’d like to disassemble it completely so I can put down my own rug. My bed is in the other room too. I want to get rid of this monstrosity. Do we need more help to do that?”
“Heck, no.” He hoisted the mattress off the bed. “Where you want this?”
She led him to the empty second bedroom. “Throw it anywhere. I’m not sure what Chris wants to do with the old furniture, but it can live here for now.”
He leaned it against a wall that was painted that same ugly green, then went back for the bed frame. Without the furniture, the room looked enormous. She was on the floor opening the paint can, and he caught a glimpse of the color, a pale gray.
As he began to roll the paint on the walls, he found himself wondering where she’d like to go for dinner.
The air was cold and crisp this morning. Bree had stopped by Naomi’s to check on her as well as to grab Charley to help Samson with the search for the scarf’s owner. None of the rest of her team had been able to come, but she had the two best dogs. Mason and a couple of deputies waited for them.
Her breath blew out in a fog as she stood by where they’d found the scarf and held it under the dog’s noses. “Search, Samson. Find him, Charley.”
The dogs sniffed the scarf all over, then ran back and forth, their muzzles in the air. The dogs weren’t bloodhounds but air scenters. They worked in a Z pattern until they could catch a hint of the one scent they sought. Samson’s tail stiffened, and he turned and followed the tracks the man had left.
“We probably won’t get anywhere,” Mason panted as he jogged with her behind the dogs. “They’ll track him to the road and lose him.”
She and the sheriff had been friends as well as allies for many years now. His wife, Hilary, was her first husband’s twin sister. A stocky man in his early forties with dark curly hair, Mason had often been the stable rock Bree needed when the whole world was quaking.
She wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. “It’s worth a try since Naomi remembers being struck. It wasn’t an accident.”
The dogs moved fast, and her chest burned trying to keep up in the cold air. The dogs reached a clearing and stopped, nosing around again. Samson looked at her and whined. They couldn’t have lost the scent yet. The tracks were still right there, and the road was about ten yards away. The dogs should at least track him to the road.
Samson whined again and came to press himself against her leg. “What’s wrong, boy?”
Mason walked in a circle around the clearing. “There are tons of tracks through here. Maybe the dogs are confused.”
“The tracks shouldn’t confuse them.” She rubbed her dog’s head to comfort him. “He doesn’t know which way to go. Maybe the guy circled around enough that the scent leads in several directions.”
“Maybe so.” Mason shrugged and turned toward the road where he’d parked his cruiser. “It was worth a try.”
She called the dogs to her and had them sniff the scarf again, but they continued to mill around the clearing with no idea where to go. It definitely was a bust.
CHAPTER 12
The warm blush of sun on her arms had turned to a golden brown. Lauri stretched on the beach towel, then turned over onto her stomach. Six glorious days in paradise so far, and they had to leave tomorrow. She didn’t want it to end. Peter had already come to mean so very much to her. She’d never believed in love at first sight, but she was deep in its throes now. He’d taught her how little she knew about love.
She turned her head and smiled at Peter who returned it. He was as brown as a Greek god in his bright-blue swim trunks and looked just as appealing with his skin gleaming from Maui Babe oil. The scent of kukui nut oil blended with the salty tang of the ocean, adding to her feeling of contentment. Lawai Beach was a small cove, and not many tourists were here today. They had the sliver of golden sand all to themselves except for a retired couple parked under the shade of the tree by the sidewalk. Surfers rode the waves out past the reef.
She reached across the sand to take his hand. “I never want to leave.”
His blue eyes darkened, and he squeezed her hand. “Me neither. Let’s just run away and stay here forever.”
“If only we could. I’m even a decent snorkeler, thanks to you.”
His fingers tightened on hers. “You’re way more than that to me. I don’t know how I lived without you in my life. I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll be back in two more weeks. When will you return this way?”
“I’m not supposed to come back for a month, but maybe I can change my schedule.”
They had been very much in the moment this whole week, and she realized she’d never even told him where she lived, and she didn’t know where he lived. “I don’t suppose your home base is in Washington state? I travel there next.”
His eyes brightened. “I’m going there next too. Where are you staying?”
“In Seattle.”
“I’m in Tacoma. That’s not far. I can easily hop over to see you.” He sat up and brushed the sand from his hands. “I’m not letting you go, Lauri. You’ve changed my life. I love you, you know. I haven’t said it because it seems so fast, but you are everything I’ve looked for all my life.”
Her mouth went dry, and she sat up quickly. A woman shouldn’t get a declaration of love while lying on her belly in the sand. She clasped her knees to her chest. “I feel the same, Peter. I know it’s fast, but the minute I saw you, I knew you were special. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve meeting you, but I never want to lose you.”
He scooted over to her towel and put his arm around her. “Don’t ever hurt me, Lauri. I couldn’t take it.”
“I’d rather die than hurt you,” she whispered. “I’d never do it.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind one of her ears with such tenderness that she ached. Such an amazing man and he loved her. How could that be? Her brown hair and blue eyes weren’t anything special. She had an okay figure, but it wasn’t one to stop traffic.
She leaned her cheek against his chest, warm with the sun. “Why me?”
“That’s what I was about to say. You could have your pick of guys. And I’m older than you. You’re what—twenty-three?”
“Yes.”
“I’m thirty-six, old by comparison.”
“You’re not old. You’re so strong and handsome you take my breath away.”
His white teeth flashed in a smile. “I like to hear that. Would you consider a lifetime with me?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Her gaze searched his face, and the love in his eyes brought tears to hers. “I–I feel like I’ve come home when I’m with you. Wherever you are is where I want to be.”
“When things are right, you just know. And I know I want to marry you, Lauri. We’ll have a great life together.”
His warm arm left her side, and he reached for the beach bag he’d brought. His hand dove inside and emerged with a small white box. Lauri couldn’t tear her gaze away. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. How could her life change so dramatically in a week?
He got on his knees and took her hand. “Lauri, will you marry me?” He opened the box to reveal a diamond ring.
The stone looked enormous to Lauri. Other diamonds twinkled around the platinum setting. A band of rose gold with platinum bands on either side made it unique. “It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,” she whispered. “When did you have time to get it?”
But there was no lack of jewelry stores on the island. She reached for it, and he snatched it back with a teasing grin. “You haven’t answered me.”
She threw her arms around his neck, and they both nearly
toppled to the sand. “Yes, yes, of course!” Tears made hot tracks down her cheeks. “I’m so happy, Peter, so incredibly happy.”
He plucked the ring from its home and slipped it onto her finger. It twinkled in the bright sunlight. A bird landed nearby as if drawn by the ring’s glitter. Lauri felt just as mesmerized as the bird.
Peter brushed a kiss across her lips. “Happy?”
“Deliriously. I can’t wait to tell my brother and his wife.”
His blue eyes darkened. “They might think I’m too old for you.”
“Oh don’t be silly! They will love you as much as I do. You’re not old, and that’s final!”
“My friends will say I have a trophy wife. And I do.” He nuzzled her neck. “You smell so good. What do you say we bust out of here and go to my place? We can order in sushi and watch a movie. I’d take you out tonight, but I don’t want to share you, not tonight when I have to leave tomorrow.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” she whispered.
Dana’s first day of work. The Rock Harbor Dispatch office looked like most: lots of desk areas with banks of computer screens and the incessant sound of phones ringing. The American flag hung on one wall and county maps covered a perpendicular wall. At least this office had windows along one side that let in the sparkle of sun on the snow outside. The odor of fresh paint permeated the room and overlaid that of sweet perfume worn by one of the dispatchers.
Three other dispatchers looked up briefly when Dana came in. They sized her up before returning to their screens. It must be a busy day, probably people in the ditches from last night’s snowstorm. One station was free, so she slid into the office chair and logged in. The radio was already live, crackling with static and voices. The hubbub died down as she put on her headset and rolled her chair up to the keyboard.
“You must be Dana.” A woman in her fifties sent a smile her way. Her graying brown hair was cut in a stylish bob, and she wore just enough makeup to enhance her hazel eyes. Her khaki slacks held a precise crease, and she’d topped it with a navy lace top. “I’m Karen Patton, senior dispatcher.”
Dana felt decidedly underdressed in her jeans and sweatshirt. Mason had told her the department had casual dress. “Dana Newell. Nice to meet you.”
Karen waved a plump hand sparkling with rings toward the woman to her left. “That’s Tracie Pitt, also known as ‘Babelicious’ by the guys.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Don’t let her see you trying to cut into her territory. She’s apt to sabotage your computer.”
Dana vaguely remembered meeting the younger woman the day she’d interviewed. She sent a smile toward her. Tracie didn’t seem to notice the introduction and kept her gaze on her screens. About twenty-five, she had straight black hair. Her high cheekbones and coloring hinted at some Native American in her heritage, though her skin was as pale as if she never went in the sun. Dana could see why the guys hung around her.
The man on Dana’s other side stood and stretched. In his early forties, he was about five-ten and stocky with dark hair that hadn’t started graying yet. When he held out his hand, she caught the glint of his wedding band.
He shook her hand. “Mark Johansen. You probably don’t remember me, but Chris and I used to go ice fishing together.”
“I thought you looked a little familiar.”
“Tell him to call me the next time he’s in town.” Mark headed for the door. “See you girls later. It’s quitting time for me.”
Dana waved as she answered another call, just a breakdown in the county that she reported.
Tracie finally turned from her screens. “So you’re the new girl.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The guys told me I had competition.” Her tone implied she didn’t see it herself.
Dana forced a smile. “I’m not even in the running.”
Tracie sniffed, but the glint in her dark-brown eyes faded. “You’re married?”
Dana shook her head as her phone rang. “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“My husband! He yelled and fell down. I think he’s having a heart attack.” The woman was sobbing so hard it was difficult to understand her.
Dana looked at her screen and rattled off the address showing there. “Is that your location? And are you Helen Grayson?”
“Yes, yes! Please send an ambulance.”
“I’m sending one now. Please stay on the line with me.” Dana opened her mouth to ask the woman if she could pray with her, then pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot at her new job.
Once the ambulance was dispatched, she had Mrs. Grayson kneel beside her husband. “Is he breathing?”
“Y-Yes, I think so. But he’s not waking up.” The woman’s voice held a tighter edge of hysteria. “Is he going to die?”
“He’s still breathing so that’s good. Do you know CPR?”
“No.” Mrs. Grayson began sobbing again. “I should have taken a class. We’re getting older.”
Dana heard the reedy wail of a siren. “The paramedics are almost there. Go to the door and open it so they can get in right away.”
“Okay.”
The phone clicked in Dana’s ear before she could remind Mrs. Grayson to stay on the line, but the paramedics should be walking in the door now. She logged in the details of the call. It felt good to be back in her element, doing what she loved most. The call center fell silent for nearly an hour.
Her phone rang again, and she glanced at the screen as she answered. The cell phone call’s coordinates showed on her monitor. “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” She looked closer. The cell phone belonged to Allyson.
“He’s going to kill me next.” The harsh whisper was barely audible.
“Allyson, what’s wrong? Where are you?” Dana quickly keyed in the coordinates to send help. “Who is going to kill you?”
Allyson didn’t answer, and Dana checked the connection. She hadn’t lost it, not yet. “Allyson, are you there? Can you see anyone who might help you? What’s happening?” Barely aware of standing, she realized she’d raised her voice. All the other dispatchers were staring at her.
Was that wind on the other end of the line? She stared at the coordinates and tried to make out their location. As near as she could tell, it was close to where they’d trained the dogs yesterday. Had Garret hurt Allyson? Was that what she meant by next?
Shudders worked their way down her spine at the continued silence on the phone. “Allyson!” She’d given up hoping for an answer when she heard a choked scream, then the line went dead.
Dana frantically called the sheriff’s line to request assistance. But every fiber of her being knew it was too late.
CHAPTER 13
His nose up, Spirit leaned into the wind. Boone pulled in the mainsail and manipulated the front steering runner to turn the boat. Wind stung his face as he rounded the lake and headed into the breeze. Clouds of snow clung to tree branches from last night’s snow, and the only world he cared to know right now was white and cold. He resisted an impulse to stand and shout into the wind. Nothing compared to being out on the ice. The scrape of the runners on the ice was the most melodious sound he’d heard in his life.
He saw a quick movement up ahead, a parka-clad man running for the shore. The guy disappeared into the thick scrub of the tree line. He’d probably been ice fishing, so Boone slowed his boat in case an ice hole lurked ahead. As the boat slowed, he saw something on the ice. Not a hole but what appeared to be a pile of blankets or something.
He took off his sunglasses to see better. Wait, that wasn’t a pile of material. A person’s face turned up toward the blue sky overhead.
He managed to get the boat stopped in time and yanked down the sail. Boone anchored the boat and stepped out onto the ice. “Hey!” The person on the ice didn’t move, and an icy certainty formed in his gut as he neared.
A woman, her wet hair spread out on the ice, lying on her back. He gasped. “Allyson!” His chest squeezed at the p
aleness of her skin.
Slipping and sliding on the frozen lake, he managed to reach her side. Blood pooled by her head from a cut on her forehead. There was an open hole beside her as if she’d been ice fishing, but she was soaking wet from her hair to her chest.
He tried to find a pulse in her neck. Nothing. “Allyson!” He tried again to find a pulse at her throat, then moved to her wrist. When he didn’t get a heartbeat, he unzipped her parka and put his head onto her chest to listen.
She couldn’t be dead. He stared into her beautiful face and began CPR. “Breathe, Allyson!” Pump, pump. He counted off the compressions, then blew into her mouth twice before repeating the routine. After several rounds, perspiration dripped from his forehead. There was no response.
What had happened? Maybe she’d fallen. He gave a slight shake of his head. She was wet like she’d been in the water, but if she had, she’d never been able to get out by herself. That man.
Half-rising, Boone turned toward the tree line but saw no movement. He yanked off his gloves with his teeth and pulled out his cell phone to call the sheriff. He’d keep doing CPR until help arrived. A sob forced its way past the constriction in his throat, and moisture flooded his eyes. Spirit whined and licked his face.
Before he could dial, he heard the whup-whup of a helicopter overhead.
He waved both hands in the air and shouted, “Here!”
The chopper dipped a bit as if to acknowledge his wave, then descended to the ice. The fierce wind from the rotors bit into his cheeks, but he continued the CPR. The helicopter finally settled, and the rotor rotation slowed. Two paramedics disembarked followed by Mason’s familiar bulky form. How had they heard about this? Maybe the guy Boone had seen called it in.
Sliding on the ice, the paramedics manhandled the stretcher to Allyson’s side. Boone stepped out of the way, though in his heart he knew they were too late.
He took several steps to meet Mason. “I–I think she’s gone. I tried CPR, but she’s not responding.” His voice wobbled, and he knuckled the moisture out of his eyes.
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