The Rookie's Assignment

by Valerie Hansen

  As she and Nick accepted the commemorative handout from the usher, she saw him staring at the blurred but lovely photo on its cover. Olivia Henry had been strikingly beautiful in life, with fair hair, blue eyes and a porcelain complexion, although there was also a certain aura of sadness about her that detracted from her ethereal beauty.

  The notion of dying settled into Keira’s mind. An unexpected shiver zinged up her spine and tingled the hair at the nape of her neck. She might easily have been killed when their SUV had been sideswiped.

  Nick leaned closer. “What’s wrong? Are you cold?”

  “No. I was just thinking about the truck that hit us.”

  “Are you ready to admit that wasn’t an accident?”

  “There’s no way to say for sure,” Keira argued. “If it really was an attack—and I’m not saying it was—the driver might not have realized I was in the way. He might have merely meant to damage the car.”

  “Would you bet your life on that conclusion?” Nick asked. “Because if you’re wrong, that’s exactly what you’ll be doing.”

  She might have whispered a witty comeback if she could have come up with one before the service began.

  Music played softly. Then Pastor Larch spoke of Olivia’s virtues and the sad loss of one so young while Keira’s restless mind wandered. Even if she wasn’t totally safe on the streets, she was safe sitting in church surrounded by people she could trust—especially the man beside her, she admitted with a twinge of both sadness and joy. Nick had only been part of her life for a few days, yet he was already the first person she pictured when she wanted to feel totally secure.

  Logically, since Nick outranked her, she supposed she was looking up to him just as she did her siblings, although she definitely did not see him as a brother. Uh-uh. He was the kind of amazing guy who rode in on a white horse and rescued damsels from fire-breathing dragons or liberated them from castle towers where they’d been chained by ogres.

  She hoped Nick didn’t view her as his troublesome little sister the way her brothers often seemed to. How she did want him to see her was another question altogether. One she chose to consciously ignore for the time being.

  SEVEN

  Nick was surprised to learn that the interment of Olivia Henry’s body would take place in the cemetery behind the church where so many Fitzgeralds and other pioneers already lay.

  Sticking to the outermost perimeter and standing partially behind a tree for cover, he aimed his camera at faces in the crowd and began snapping picture after picture. Most would be useless, of course. If there were one or two that told him something he didn’t already know, he’d be satisfied. At least the weather was better today. The sun was peeking through the clouds for a change. He’d had enough winter to last him a long, long time.

  Merry O’Leary, a woman Keira had introduced him to in passing, stood with Fiona and Douglas Fitzgerald, who had his arms around both women and was comforting them as they blotted their tears.

  Nick had to keep reminding himself that this was just a job—for which he was ideally suited—because his conscience was uneasy. It seemed wrong to photograph people who were clearly mourning, yet it was standard procedure, especially in murder cases. Often there was no other way to catch the fleeting clues that might eventually help solve the case.

  There was Charles, with his twins, Brianne and Aaron. The man seemed genuinely bereft and was obviously trying to control his emotions for the sake of his young children. A slightly portly, older woman stood beside him.

  Glad when Keira sought him out and joined him on the periphery, Nick asked, “Who’s that lady over there with Charles and the kids?”

  “Irene Mulrooney. She’s the housekeeper Charles mentioned. She helps out by watching the twins sometimes, especially since…”

  “Sorry. I have to keep digging.”

  “I know you do. What else would you like to know?”

  “How about the Hennessy kid? Cooper, you said his name was? He looks as if he’d like to jump into that grave with Olivia. How well did he know her?”

  “Actually, he claimed he’d dated her but it seemed pretty far-fetched to me. I mean, she was beautiful and strong willed. Look at Cooper. The poor guy is…” She cleared her throat. “Well, he’s a Hennessy.”

  “Hey, he can’t help who his daddy is.” Snapping a few more shots Nick continued. “I think you were right about the baby’s nanny being ready to take over. That’s who that short, older woman standing behind them is, right?”

  “Yes. Delores Nunez. She’s been with the family since Georgina arrived. They also had a housekeeper until recently. Helen Yorke.”

  “Really? What happened to her?”

  “Personal problems. And before you go getting suspicious of Helen, too, we checked her story. Her mother got sick and needed her, so she quit and left town.”

  “Have they replaced her?” Nick asked, snapping pictures as he spoke.

  “I don’t think so. It’s a good thing they have a nanny. I understand Christina has trouble coping with her own daily life, let alone adequately managing a household and an inquisitive toddler.”

  Keira paused for a few moments then gestured with a lift of her chin. “See what I mean? If you don’t want a child to play with your fancy jewelry, you don’t wear any. Ever since Christina picked up Georgina again, she’s had to constantly keep prying that jingly bracelet out of the baby’s fingers.”

  “I thought I heard something like that making noise earlier.” Nick smiled at her. “I’m glad it wasn’t my imagination.”

  “It could have been God ringing the doorbell to try to get your attention.”

  “In your dreams,” Nick replied. Scanning the gathering he began to scowl when he noticed how upset the police chief seemed. Aiden was trying to hide his emotions but anyone could see he was deeply moved.

  That was sort of understandable since this death had happened in his town and on his watch, Nick reminded himself. And the young victim had been loosely attached to the Fitzgerald family, as well. Charles was clearly mourning, as were many of the others. Even Keira had swiped away a stray tear or two as Pastor Larch closed in prayer.

  It must be comforting to think this wasn’t the end, Nick mused, although there was nothing anybody could do about it one way or the other. When a person’s time was up, it was up. Period. Besides, if these folks really did believe in heaven, why were they crying?

  Continuing to snap pictures, he asked Keira that very question.

  She smiled and sniffled. “We’re probably thinking of ourselves. Just because we have a hope of spending eternity together doesn’t mean we don’t grieve. I still miss my mother almost every day. I’m sure Dad does, too.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories.”

  “They’re not bad,” she told him, sighing. “They just are what they are. If I understood even a smidgen of God’s plans for my life I sometimes think I’d be happier, but I’d probably also try to help Him and ruin the whole thing. Right now, I’m just glad I’m not in a position to ask Him about it face-to-face.”

  He gritted his teeth before replying, “Yeah, so am I.”

  “I’m restless after the morning we just spent,” Keira told Nick as they left the cemetery. “Since the weather is finally nicer, why don’t we visit the murder scene?”

  “I thought you’d never get around to that.” He grinned over at her. “The way you kept putting me off when I suggested it, I was beginning to wonder.”

  “Hey, the tide was either too high or there was a storm at sea when you asked before. I should have taken you down to the beach, anyway, and let you get swamped in those monstrous waves. It would have served you right.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “Because I didn’t want to drown with you, if you must know. I’ve lived here all my life. I can read the bay the way you read the streets of Boston. I knew better than to go earlier.”

  “How do we get there? I’m
not looking forward to rappelling down the cliff the way the fire department had to when they retrieved the body.”

  “Actually, Douglas helped, too. But we won’t have to take that kind of risk. We can park near your apartment and hike in.”

  “There’s a way to do that?”

  “There is at low tide.” She checked her watch. “We’ll have time if we don’t stop to admire the scenery or pick up seashells.”

  “Do you collect those?”

  “I used to,” Keira said, sensing a slight blush warming her cheeks. “When we were kids we all spent a lot of time investigating the shore. My brothers and I used to plant clues to try to fool each other, then pretend we were real detectives solving real crimes.”

  She could feel Nick’s gaze fixed on her so she laughed. “No. We don’t still do that if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “I never said a word.”

  “You didn’t have to. I can see it on your face. Believe me, if there was anything on that beach where Olivia was found, it didn’t come from one of us.”

  Although he didn’t answer, she was satisfied that he’d accepted her claim. He’d better. Thanks to Burke Hennessy and a few other folks who’d sided with him, there had already been enough false accusations directed toward her family.

  She didn’t expect Nick to find anything else on the rocky shoreline below the cliff where the lighthouse stood, but if it would help him visualize the crime scene better, she had no objection to guiding him. It would be the first time she’d set foot down there since the summer before Olivia’s murder and she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  However, she was also a good cop. She’d go anywhere necessary in order to do her job and solve crimes.

  Specific, painful memories had been revived during the church service earlier. She could vividly recall the sight of the body being hoisted from the rocks below as she and others who were waiting on the cliff top had prayed that the identity of the victim was a mistake. It still seemed unbelievable that someone as young and full of life as Olivia had actually died. If she had merely fallen…

  But she hadn’t, Keira reminded herself. Forensics had confirmed that someone had hit her over the head with a rock then shoved her off that cliff and thrown the bloody murder weapon down after her. Given the nor’easter that had been imminent at that time, it was possible the killer had thought her body would wash out to sea and never be found.

  Had God intervened? Keira asked herself. Was He the reason Merry had happened upon the scene in time to stop the storm-tossed waves from taking Olivia?

  She chanced a sidelong glance at her partner. An even more interesting question was why Nick Delfino had been the one chosen to come to Fitzgerald Bay to assist in the investigation. In the deepest recesses of her mind lurked the suspicion that she had been destined to meet him, one way or the other, and his presence was all a part of God’s divine plan.

  Or a big cosmic joke, she countered, feeling silly. That was far more likely.

  Nevertheless, she couldn’t totally erase the notion that having Nick around had been advantageous—and not only when he’d protected her.

  She sensed his eyes on her. Her head snapped around. “What?”

  “I was just wondering why you looked so pleased with yourself all of a sudden.”

  “Did I? I was probably thinking about getting out and burning some excess energy hiking along the shore,” Keira said, hoping her reddening cheeks weren’t giving her away.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could drive down there?”

  “Sorry. No. It’s too rocky, even when the tide is out. When the water’s high we could probably approach in a small boat, but then the murder site would be underwater.”

  “Okay. I get the idea. We have to walk. I’ll cope.”

  “What a trouper,” Keira teased. She pulled into the driveway of the old mill and stopped. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. You’re the native. Is there anything special I need to take along?”

  “A little food for quick energy wouldn’t hurt.” She was watching him carefully scan their surroundings the way he always did and it gave her the willies. “You haven’t seen signs of any suspicious trucks, have you?”

  “Nope. I imagine they either left town or decided to lie low.”

  She headed for the front door. “Suits me. Let’s go grab a snack. I know where Douglas keeps the granola bars.”

  “I thought you said we were going to take food.”

  “Spoken like a typical man,” Keira countered with a comical grimace. “I’ll see if I can find you some beef jerky to gnaw on if you want. Do you have any snacks at your place we can grab easily?”

  When she noticed his hesitation and the way his smile quickly faded it made her curious. “What’s the matter? Did you forget to tidy up this morning? I don’t care if you throw your dirty socks on the floor or leave stacks of dishes in the sink.”

  “It’s not that. I just haven’t stocked the cupboards yet,” Nick said flatly. “Grab whatever you need from your brother’s place and let’s get going.”

  “Okay, okay. Keep your shirt on.”

  “You don’t need a key?” he asked, following her into an apartment that was the mirror image of his own, although it did look a lot more homey and lived-in.

  “A key? Why? We hardly ever lock our doors around here.”

  “That seems rather foolish.”

  “Not to us. We trust each other.” Sizing up his posture and tight expression, she huffed. “Yeah, I know. We shouldn’t be so easygoing. It’s really depressing to think that.”

  “Maybe, after the murder is solved, you’ll all be able to settle down to the peaceful lives you used to enjoy.”

  “I hope so.”

  Stuffing packages of granola bars into her jacket pockets, Keira took a deep breath and released it as a sigh. “At this point, I wonder if we may have lost our peace and tranquility for good.”

  Nick would have invited Keira to raid his fridge if he hadn’t remembered leaving a folder filled with sensitive documents lying on the kitchen table where she might have noticed and asked about it.

  In retrospect, he knew he should have either locked up that inside information or tucked it into his laptop case to take to work with him.

  Logic had insisted that his personal research into Fitzgerald Bay would be more secure from prying eyes at the condo, particularly since no one suspected he was working undercover. At least not yet. What he hadn’t anticipated was Keira deciding to stop by without warning.

  They exited via the basement door, just as he had when he’d followed the river upstream. In this case, however, she turned south and led the way past rocky outcroppings, skirting the largest ones by sticking close to the lapping water.

  Nick could tell from the wet rocks and sand that the tide had recently receded. How long would it be before the waves rose again? He wasn’t looking forward to getting an unnecessary shower of icy seawater. Perhaps that was why his partner seemed to be moving so rapidly.

  “Hey,” he called after her. “What’s the hurry? Are we racing the tide?”

  “No. Sorry. I tend to get carried away sometimes.”

  When Keira grinned and turned to wait for him to catch up, Nick was struck by how different she looked. Wisps of her silky, dark hair had been caught in the sea breeze and were tickling her forehead below the brim of her cap. Her eyes sparkled more brightly than a summer sky and her cheeks held the rosy, healthy glow of someone who belonged to the rock-strewn Atlantic coast as surely as the other flora and fauna did. Keira Fitzgerald was the essence of New England’s hearty stock, totally in her element and overflowing with the joy of having found her ideal niche.

  Moreover, Nick realized, it was a distinct pleasure to be there with her. The freedom and lack of pretense she exhibited was catching. He, too, felt more lighthearted.

  “How much farther is it?” he asked when he jogged up beside her.

  “Just around th
e next big rockfall,” Keira said, pointing. “This part of the bay hasn’t changed since I was a kid. I know it like the back of my hand.”

  “Since you were a kid? You mean last year?” Nick teased.

  “Hey, just because you’re an old curmudgeon, that doesn’t give you the right to pick on me. How old are you, anyway?”

  “Thirty, going on a hundred, at least,” he replied.

  Scaling a boulder that blocked their path, he almost forgot himself and automatically reached for her hand to help her climb.

  That was the kind of gut-level reaction that would get him into plenty of trouble, he knew, yet at that moment, on that deserted stretch of shoreline, it seemed perfectly natural. He couldn’t explain it. He simply knew that he and Keira were in sync in ways that were foreign to him.

  Did she feel the same unspoken connection? Nick wondered. With her, it was impossible to tell. Unless she was berating him for suspecting her brother or trying to convince him that she didn’t need protecting, she was always upbeat. At least, that was the impression he’d gotten.

  Even at the funeral? he asked himself.

  To his surprise and chagrin he had to answer in the affirmative. It wasn’t so much that Keira was carefree. She had certainly empathized with everyone’s feelings of loss. She was simply comfortable in her own skin, with her personal beliefs, and for that he envied her.

  EIGHT

  “You can’t see the lighthouse from here but I know this is the spot,” Keira shouted, cupping a hand around her mouth so she could be heard over the raucous screeching of the gulls and the drumming, humming echo of the surf.

  Most of the seabirds were launching themselves from the steep precipice above or diving for food in the shallows. A few waddled along the shoreline like hungry diners at a sumptuous buffet, picking up whatever tasty tidbits the ocean had recently deposited and squabbling over the smallest morsel.