Desire and Protect

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Desire and Protect Page 3

by Lori Ryan


  Shane shook his head, not wanting to believe Fiona would take her own life. “Why?” He didn’t really mean to ask the question of Garret. It was just what came out.

  “I don’t know. I was hoping you could help me with that.”

  “Who found her?” Shane rubbed a hand down his face. Fiona was in a very happy relationship. He thought so, anyway. She and her boyfriend lived together, and despite their age difference, they seemed committed. He hoped Elliot wasn’t the one to find her. It would crush the man.

  “Beverly Newman found her. She said they were supposed to have lunch together.” Beverly was Fiona’s neighbor on the other side, and also her best friend. “When Mrs. O’Malley didn’t come over, she went to check on her. She let herself in with her key and found her in bed.”

  “Does Elliot know?” There was no need to ask if Garret knew Fiona well enough to know who Elliot was. Aside from the fact that Garret knew many of the people in town even after only being the chief of police for a year, there probably wasn’t anyone in town who didn’t know about Fiona and Elliot. At least not anyone who’d lived there for any amount of time.

  Elliot was in his early forties. To say the couple had garnered some attention when they started dating was the understatement of the century. It had been a scandal that kept the rumor mill of Evers chugging right along for months. And when Elliot had moved in, the scandal had been renewed.

  Anyone who knew them, though, usually saw the love between the two. Shane had.

  “Yes. He offered to go tell her daughter, but I have a feeling that would be a bad idea. They don’t exactly get along and he’s pretty wrecked. I don’t think making the drive right now would be very safe.”

  Shane sat in stunned silence for a few minutes. “You said you needed to talk to me as her friend and neighbor. What can I do?”

  “Like I said, the medical examiner won’t be able to finalize his determination of suicide immediately. I was just hoping you might have some insight into her state of mind lately. Her daughter will have questions.”

  Shane didn’t envy this part of the job for Garret. Hell, he didn’t envy any part of the job for Garret. “She seemed happy. At least I thought so. I haven’t seen her as often lately as I used to because of my workload, but for the most part she was happy. She and Elliot seemed to be, anyway.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and tilted his head. “She’d had some...issues, but I didn’t think it would lead to anything like this.”

  Garret sat forward, but didn’t comment. He was always one to just wait and see what was going to come out. It was a tactic Shane recognized and used himself.

  “Memory issues, confusion. That sort of thing.” Shane had to be careful because he was now skirting the line of attorney-client privilege and that privilege wasn’t something that went away with the client’s death.

  Fiona O’Malley had come to see him as a client when that confusion began, but she’d also talked to him about it as a friend at home first. He couldn’t discuss what they’d talked about in his office, but their discussions as friends weren’t off limits.

  “Alzheimer’s?” Garret asked.

  “I don’t know that she actually went in for any diagnosis, but I know she was worried about some type of dementia. Her brother lived for years with severe dementia. She had to watch him suffer for a long time. She knows—knew—the strain it put on the whole family.”

  Garret let out a breath. “So, would it surprise you if we find she took her own life to avoid that?”

  Shane shook his head. “No, but I didn’t think things had gone so far that she might do that. I know she worried about Elliot, though. She didn’t want to put him through what her sister-in-law went through with her brother.”

  “Anything else you can tell me?”

  “No. Not that I can think of.” And not that he could share. Fiona had asked him to empty her safe-deposit box when she died and deliver the contents to various people when he took care of her estate. He had prepared her will for her several years back and she’d updated it recently. He couldn’t share any of those details with Garret unless Garret opened an investigation and obtained a court order.

  The two men stood and Garret reached across the desk to pump Shane’s hand once more. “Thanks, Shane. I still can’t give her daughter any definitive answers just yet, but I’ll at least be able to tell her what we think might have been going on with her mother.”

  5

  There are times when embracing life is harder than one would think. Friends, it seems, make all the difference.

  Fiona O’Malley’s Journal

  Phoebe sat at the back of the church. Shane had invited her to sit in front with him, but she hadn’t felt right doing that. She was only here as a mark of respect for a woman the whole town seemed to adore. Shane gave a eulogy that was marked with love and the humor she’d heard Fiona O’Malley had always filled her life with.

  Phoebe had heard a great deal about Fiona O’Malley in the last few days, and she’d been left with the sense she would have liked the woman very much. Fiona didn’t seem to put much stock in what other people thought about her. She sounded like a woman who put family, friends, and joy above all else.

  Although, this morning Phoebe had noticed some whisperings about Fiona and her daughter not getting along so well in recent years. Her daughter sat in the front row now, her husband by her side, and two small children tucked in next to her. Phoebe guessed they might be five and seven.

  The congregation stood, ready to file out and head to the cemetery for the burial. Phoebe kept her head ducked and slipped out of the church and off to the side. She planned to wait for Shane to let him know she wouldn’t be going to the burial. She would get the office open and catch up on some of the work they needed to get done. With Fiona’s death this week, Shane had taken one afternoon and the following morning off, something she knew he didn’t do very often. She might have only been in town the week, but if one thing was clear, it was that Shane Bishop worked far too much.

  Another thing had become clear in the last few days. Shane Bishop was something of, if not a patriarch, then at least a brother to the town. He seemed to not only know everyone, but care deeply about how they were and what they needed. People seemed to rely on him not only for legal work, but for other things as well. She’d seen people ask him for advice again and again. She had also seen people lean on him in the last few days as they grieved the loss of one of their own.

  Watching Elliot grieve had been particularly heart-wrenching. It was clear the man loved Fiona O’Malley, and he seemed as though he might be a bit lost without her.

  Shane hadn’t yet emerged. Phoebe knew he would be speaking to everybody on his way out of the church, but Margaret made her way over to where Phoebe stood.

  “It was nice of you to come to the service.”

  Phoebe glanced around at the people milling on the sidewalk and talking about who would follow whom to the cemetery and who was going in what cars. “It seems like most of the town is here.”

  Margaret smiled and looked around. “She was well loved.”

  “I’m not going to go to the burial. I was waiting to tell Shane, but I have a feeling he’s going to be in there for a while.” Phoebe looked down the street toward the law office. “I’m going to go get caught up on some things at the office. I know Shane said he would be coming in after the funeral today, and there are a few things I want to prepare for him. Would you let him know for me?”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to go in on Saturday.”

  “Oh, it’s all right. I don’t mind, and I know he was stressed he had to miss work this week, even though he felt it was the right thing to do. He wanted to be there for Elliot and be available when Fiona’s family got into town.”

  Margaret squeezed her hand. “You’re a good girl Phoebe Joy.”

  She said it as though she’d only just decided this, as though maybe she’d been withholding judgment. Phoebe smiled and nodded, but quickly walked
down the street toward the law office, crossing first to avoid having to walk through everyone still organizing rides outside of the church.

  She let herself into the office, and started up her computer, bringing up the soundtrack to A Knight’s Tale. She hummed to Golden Years, the song from the scene where Count Adhemar taunts William and Jocelyn into dancing in the movie. She’d always loved A Knight’s Tale, but lately she’d been watching it a lot. She’d started to see a lot of parallels between what she wanted for her life and what she saw in the movie.

  Not just because it had the most incredible love note in the history of love notes in it. Phoebe could never listen to the lines about the pieces of William’s heart or Paris being empty without Jocelyn, and not sigh and get all misty-eyed.

  It wasn’t just because of the love affair the movie depicted either. It was because of the way it showed the love of someone who sees that you’re not perfect and accepts you anyway. The love of someone who can love you for who you are even when who you are is deeply flawed.

  Anyone who sees the movie would have to admit that Jocelyn is horribly flawed. She’s materialistic and one-dimensional. William loves her despite all of that. And eventually you begin to see what he sees in Jocelyn. You see that she’s not really one-dimensional, but multifaceted and loving, devoted to her friends in ways you can’t help but admire.

  Everyone in the movie is like that. They all have something that makes them an outcast and yet they found this family together. A family they would do anything for.

  Phoebe and her father were extremely close. And she’d been close to her grandmother, when she’d been alive. That was the extent of her family. What she hadn’t realized until recently was that she was apparently not very close to making her own family. It’s part of what she’d come to town looking for.

  That sounded awful. Like she was hunting for a husband, and that wasn’t exactly what was going on. She’d come to town to find a community, to find a place she belonged, where she could build a life. She’d realized recently that she’d somehow been cultivating superficial relationships with a lot of people, when what she really wanted was something much deeper.

  Phoebe shook herself out of the fog she’d been in and got to work. She wasn’t really a feel sorry for yourself kind of person and she didn’t really want to start now.

  An hour later her phone rang. “Phoebe Joy.”

  “Phoebe? It’s Shane.”

  Phoebe glanced at the computer screen, surprised to see how much time had passed. “Is the burial over?” She flinched. That sounded a bit gauche.

  “Yes, and I need you to do me a big favor.”

  “Sure, anything.” Phoebe smiled, realizing she meant that. She liked working for Shane and wanted to make sure he ended up wanting her to stay here.

  “Fiona’s daughter is anxious to get back on the road quickly.”

  “Oh, she’s not planning to stay for a while?”

  “I guess not. I thought for sure she’d want to go through her mother’s things. Emmaline and Elliot don’t exactly get along, not well anyway. I still thought she’d want to be part of getting her mother’s things cleaned out and given to friends or donated. But apparently she’s going to leave all that to Elliot.”

  Phoebe murmured a response and Shane continued. “I told her I’d meet her at the law office. I have some things for her that her mother asked me to get out of her safe deposit box, but I got tied up here and I can’t get back there right away.”

  “I’m at the office. I can handle that.” Duh. He had just called her at the office. He knew perfectly well where she was.

  She could almost hear the smile in Shane’s response. “Thank you.”

  She sighed. “What is it?”

  “If you go in my office there are two boxes on my desk. The one on the left is for Elliot. I’ll get those things to him later. The one on the right is for her, Emmaline. It’s her mother’s jewelry and a journal she asked me to give to her.”

  “No problem. I’ve had the front door locked since we weren’t open to the public today, but I’ll unlock it and watch for her.”

  “Thank you, Phoebe. You’re a lifesaver.”

  He hung up and Phoebe walked to the front door just in time to see a car pull up to the curb. The thin blonde woman Phoebe had seen in church got out of the car and leaned in the window to say something to the kids in the back.

  Phoebe pushed the front door open and held it as Emmaline walked up the steps. “You must be Emmaline …” Phoebe realized she didn’t know Emmaline’s married name. “Fiona O’Malley’s daughter,” she finished awkwardly.

  “Emmaline Parker,” the woman murmured politely.

  Polite was the operative word. There was no warmth. Although, Phoebe supposed expecting warmth from a woman who had just buried her mother might be a bit odd. Emmaline was probably still in shock. Knowing your mother had taken her own life had to be difficult, to say the least.

  “Come on in. Shane has everything ready for you.” Phoebe recovered and stepped in to the front lobby. “He got tied up helping someone, but he called to let me know you were coming. He said you needed to get back on the road quickly?”

  Emmaline nodded but didn’t comment further.

  “It’s all this way.” Phoebe walked into Shane’s office and took a quick peek into the boxes to make sure she had the right one, before pushing the right box across the desk to Emmaline. “This box is for you.”

  Emmaline looked into the box. She picked up the journal and examined its cover. It was a beautiful leather binding with an ornate carved design on the front. She held it in one hand as she moved the jewelry around the box, almost as though looking for something. “Is this everything?”

  “As far as I know, yes. I can double check with Shane if you’d like, but he said everything for you was in the box on the right. Apparently, your mother wanted you to have that journal,” she corrected herself, “to read that journal, and Shane said the box had jewelry in it, but he didn’t tell me exactly what jewelry. Do you want me to check with him?”

  Emmaline glanced at the other box on the table.

  “I can check with Shane.” Phoebe repeated the offer, not sure she should say that the other box was for Elliot.

  “That’s all right. If it looks like anything is missing I’ll call him once we get home.” She placed the journal on the desk, lifted the box and turned to step out.

  Phoebe picked up the small book. “Don’t you want to read this?” It was a rude question, but Phoebe had never been very good at screening those out. Besides, if someone she was close to had committed suicide, she’d want to know why. It seemed to her, it was quite possible the journal could lead to answers where that was concerned, as well.

  Shouldn’t Fiona’s daughter want those answers?

  Emmaline glanced back over her shoulder, a mask of indifference on her face, but Phoebe could see that it was only that. A mask. “You read it if you want. I don’t plan on it.”

  6

  I want to believe that I am strong enough to let love in.

  Fiona O’Malley’s Journal

  Shane didn’t think he’d ever seen Elliot Godfrey look sad. Shane hadn’t had the heart to abandon him and Elliot didn’t seem as though he would be ready to leave the cemetery for a long time.

  For as long as Shane had known him, Elliot had been the one trying to make everybody in the room laugh. In fact, Fiona told Shane she fell in love with Elliot Godfrey the first time he made her laugh, and he hadn’t stopped doing it since then. She explained he had never stopped making her laugh or making her fall in love with him. She claimed she fell deeper in love with the man each day.

  Shane had asked once why they hadn’t gotten married. Fiona said when you got to be her age, you didn’t need things like that to solidify your relationship. Your relationship was what it was and no piece of paper from the town clerk was going to make it any stronger.

  Right now, Elliot looked like all the happiness had been drain
ed from his world.

  “Oh Elliot, I just… I just don’t know what to say.” Miriam Green approached Elliot and Shane as several of the other mourners made their way out to the cars that lined the circular drive in the cemetery.

  Miriam looked almost as defeated as Elliot, sorrow lining her face as she reached for the man’s hand to squeeze it. “I’m so sorry, Elliot. She was an incredible woman.”

  “She was, wasn’t she?” Elliot said looking from Miriam to Shane and back again. “I do believe I fell in love with her the first time I set my eyes on her.”

  Shane smiled. “She said the same about you, you know?”

  Eyes that had never quite dried up throughout the day and were now tearing again met his. “She always told me that, but I never believed her. She took some convincing, you know. She wouldn’t go out with me the first three times I asked.”

  “We’re all going to miss her down at the center.” Miriam managed the senior center in town, where Fiona had spent most of her days while Elliot ran the pharmacy he owned. “She’s been lighting that place up for the entire 10 years I’ve run it. It just won’t be the same without her.”

  Shane put a hand on Miriam’s shoulder and squeezed, wanting to steady the woman. Her hands shook as she wiped at tears and for perhaps the first time, he realized she was catching up on the age of the people who came to her center. She had to be in her late 50s or even early 60s herself. She always seemed to have such energy, though. Not today.

  Shane didn’t have much energy himself today. Bereavement had a way of draining everyone it touched.

  “Elliot, can I give you a lift home?”

  Elliot looked back at the grave. The cemetery workers had nearly finished filling it in and the man looked for all the world like he wanted to undo their work, if only for the temporary denial it would allow him. He looked at Shane. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “That’s all right. Take your time. Ashley and Beverly are taking care of everything at the house.” There was a gathering for mourners at the house, but Elliot hadn’t been up to being a part of organizing that. No one blamed him, and no one expected him to. The town librarian, Ashley Hensley, had taken charge and the neighbors had arranged for potluck style refreshments. “I’ll wait here until you’re ready to go.”

 

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