Once Upon a Summer

by Brooke Moss

  Available at All Major Retailers…..

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  USA Today bestselling author Catherine Stine writes YA, historical and contemporary fantasy, futuristic thrillers, and romance as Kitsy Clare. She is an indie notable author and has earned two NYPL Best Book for Teens awards. She lives in Manhattan and loves spending time with her beagle, gardening on her deck, doing research, and meeting readers at book fests.

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  Stealing Haven

  A Jamie Richmond Mystery

  Mark Love

  OTHER BOOKS BY MARK LOVE

  THE JAMIE RICHMOND SERIES

  “DEVIOUS”

  “VANISHING ACT”

  “FLEEING BEAUTY”

  THE JEFFERSON CHENE SERIES

  “WHY 319?”

  Stealing Haven

  Copyright © 2018 Mark Love

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  For Kim,

  Let’s take a little stroll along the beach

  STEALING HAVEN

  I didn’t want to move.

  Moving would convince me I wasn’t asleep. The cool breeze caressing my bare skin was not the touch of some mysterious lover who appeared when the lights went out. He treated me like a princess, understanding how the slight nuzzle behind my knee had a very unladylike effect on me, how with just tiny encouragement, the little bits I wore would disappear in a heartbeat. How…

  “Jamie! We have to get moving,” a sultry voice said. “You’re going to sleep away the day. We could have stayed home and done that.”

  I waved a hand to push her away. Maybe the guy who’d been caressing my knee was still there. He was. I could tell by the wet tongue stroking my leg. I jerked awake and rolled over. Instantly, I was greeted by a mass of fur and several sloppy kisses. Satisfied, the dog moved away in pursuit of someone else to bother and I threw my arm up over my face.

  “Linda, can’t you control Logan?” My voice came out muffled.

  She flopped down beside me and tugged my arm down. “Of course, I can. He was simply following orders. We have miles of soft sandy beach out there, just waiting for us. Blue skies and enough wind to fill a sail. And who knows how many handsome men may be pining for us at this very moment?”

  I pried open both eyes to see if she was serious. She was. Then I took a good look at her. Part of me wanted to smack her, just because. She’d gotten the same four hours of sleep I had, yet, Linda could have stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Her luxurious dark curly hair was pulled back with a headband. The waves swept across her shoulders like gentle wings. Two weeks into June and she sported a bronzed tan I could never achieve. Her curvaceous body and shapely legs could make a gay man stand up and take notice. But it was her angelic face that always closed the deal. She rarely wore makeup. She didn’t need it.

  Giving my head a shake to chase away the remnants of my dream, I realized she was already dressed for the beach in a modest red bikini with a white lacy blouse as a cover-up. Like that’d reduce the attention she’d draw.

  “Come on. We’re wasting sunshine.”

  “How long have you been awake?” I mumbled.

  “Fifteen minutes. The coffee should be ready.” There was no disguising the enthusiasm in her voice. “Get ready, or I’m tempted to leave you behind.”

  “I need more than coffee.”

  “There’s an adorable little bakery between here and the beach. I’ll buy you a muffin.”

  “What the hell.” I slid off the bed and trudged to the bathroom.

  God, she’s so annoying, at times. As gorgeous as a Hollywood icon and able to bounce out of bed ready to face the world with minimal effort, some days, I hated her. She gave the dog his daily praise, as I splashed cold water on my face and raked a comb through my red locks. In the background, I heard the screen door slam as the dog slipped outside. Shedding the camisole and panties I’d worn to bed, I stepped into a bright green bikini. From my bag in the room, I dug out a threadbare man’s dress shirt and slipped it on as a cover. Exiting the bedroom, Linda handed me a cardboard cup of coffee. Over one shoulder was a large straw bag filled with a beach towel, sunscreen, an extra pair of shorts, a floppy hat and a book. I had one just like it sitting beside the door. I grabbed mine as we walked outside.

  Logan sprawled in the shade. Sitting on a campstool was a short, stocky man with a weathered face. Thin wisps of grey hair danced in the breeze off the lake. In front of him was an easel with a tattered canvas. He turned slightly as we approached.

  “Do you mind watching the dog while we’re at the beach, Uncle Jake?” Linda asked.

  He pointed the end of the paintbrush at her. “Nah, the dog’s better company than you two. I’ve trained him to fetch me a beer.”

  “You can’t be serious,” I said.

  Jake winked a pale-brown eye at me. “About which part?”

  “The beer. You love our company.”

  “Shows what you know.” He twisted toward Logan and made a clicking noise with his false teeth. The dog jumped up and trotted to the corner of the house. He stuck his nose into an old galvanized tub then pulled back with a can of beer clutched in his mouth. Logan returned and stood beside Jake. Chuckling with delight, Jake eased it from the dog’s mouth. From a pocket of his paint-splattered shirt, he withdrew a dog biscuit. Logan took the treat and returned to his spot beneath the tree. With a grin, Jake opened the beer and took a healthy slug.

  “It’s eight-thirty in the morning and you’re drinking beer. You’re corrupting my baby,” Linda said. She struggled to keep her tone serious.

  “The dog’s a Golden Retriever. It’s in his blood to fetch.”

  “Don’t give him any beer,” Linda admonished.

  Jake fluttered a hand at her. “Go on. Have fun. And don’t be bringing any lecherous boys back here with you. Dinner’s at six.”

  Linda winked at me. She leaned in on Jake’s right side. I leaned in on the left. Simultaneously we kissed him on the respective cheek. I noticed the sparkle in his eye as we headed out.

  “Is he really your uncle?”

  “No. Jake’s more like an old family friend. He and his wife were very close with my parents. We visited them every year but it’s been years since I’ve been back. He retired about the same time my dad did. Within a year, his wife passed away. He grumbles once in a while about moving south, but I doubt it will ever happen. He loves the lake.”

  By the time we found the bakery, my coffee was gone. After devouring a cranberry orange muffin, I felt a little more human. South Haven is a popular vacation spot with people from Chicago as well as the Detroit area. We wandered through the town and strolled down the long path, following the channel that led from the marina. Boats of all different shapes, sizes and colors dotted the docks. Many of them were buttoned up. The owners were probably counting the hours until they could return during the evening or on the weekend. As we neared the end of the channel, Linda veered off to the left and the great expanse of sandy beach. I stopped in my tracks as though hypnotized.

  “What’s wrong?”

  As far as my eyes could see, Lake Michigan sprawled before us. I’d been here a few times before, but the majesty of the Great Lake never failed to overwhelm me. It seemed like it should be a whole lot farther than a four-hour drive from my home near Motown. The green flags gently rippled from th
e pier and caught my attention, indicating it was safe to go into the water without fear of a rip current carrying you away.

  “C’mon, let’s go find a cozy spot on the beach. I want to dip my toes in the water.”

  I gave myself a shake and followed her. “What’s the matter, afraid your bikini will melt if you get it wet?”

  She waved her fingers over her shoulder. Linda continued walking farther away from the pier which jutted out alongside the marina’s canal. From where I stood, I saw a steady flow of tourists trudging out to take pictures in front of the lighthouse. Fortunately, the beach wasn’t as jammed as it’d be on a weekend. Linda paused long enough to kick off her sandals, scoop them up with one hand and wiggle her toes in the sand. She did it gracefully. When I tried to mimic her moves, I nearly fell on my ass. Hopping on one foot, I managed to pull off my footwear. As I jammed them into my bag, I watched her move along. Even trudging through the shifting sands, her hips swayed as if she were dancing. I wondered if there was anything she did where she looked clumsy.

  Linda found the perfect spot at least twenty feet away from anyone else. Kneeling on the sand, she spread out her towel and anchored it down at the corners with her sandals and her straw bag. Shedding the cover up, she rubbed sunscreen along her shoulders, arms and legs.

  “I thought you were going to swim.”

  “It’s the waterproof kind. Better safe than sunburnt. Lord knows, your skin will burn.” She tossed the bottle toward me. Quickly, I applied it.

  With our spot secured and sunscreen on, we didn’t wait a moment longer. The sun beat down on us with nary a cloud in sight. My toes hit the water and a chill raced through me.

  “It’s ice water!”

  “It’s Lake Michigan, Jamie.” Smart ass. I knew exactly where we were.

  “Feels more like Lake Superior.” The northernmost lake rarely warmed above freezing.

  Linda gave me a disgusted look and stepped further into the water. Together we walked out until it was waist deep. In the distance, a number of people rushed across the water on kiteboards, letting the wind fill their odd shaped sails. I watched one execute several flips and turns, expertly working the breeze. Linda scraped a fingernail on my shoulder.

  “Race you to that buoy.”

  “What boy?” I smiled.

  She pushed me. As I fell, I saw her dive and swim toward a marker that bobbed about thirty feet ahead. Laughing, I took off after her. There was a gradual drop off from the beach so I could have waded out to it, but it was more fun to swim. She stood there, hands on her hips like Wonder Woman.

  “I’ve been waiting.”

  “For me?”

  She shook her head, water spraying from her curls. “For this vacation. We’re two beautiful women, unencumbered by the demands of the world. Nobody is looking for us. There are no papers to grade, no deadlines to meet, no expectations.”

  “At least, for this week.”

  She hugged me. “What more could we ask for?”

  “Well, a couple of gorgeous guys would be a nice changeup. Preferably those with jobs and some money to spend on us.”

  “I suppose you want them to be single as well. Never married. No ex-wives or children to clutter the picture.” She flashed me a wicked smile. “Perhaps a virile young monk in training going over the wall.”

  “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

  We waded back toward shore. As the sun warmed my shoulders, I thought about her comment. Linda had been seeing a guy named Daniel last month who seemed perfect. Nice looks, a good sense of humor and a decent job. Trouble was he’d lied to her. He claimed to have recently been divorced and was just starting to date again. In reality, he was only separated. Daniel strung his wife along, hinting at the possibility of a reconciliation. And like a fish on the line, she’d take the bait. Whenever he was in the mood for sex, he’d pay his wife a visit. It took Linda just two dates to figure out he wasn’t worth her time. She kicked him to the curb and moved on.

  We returned to the beach and settled back on the towels, facing the sky. Within minutes, the sun dried us and warmed our skin. I dragged my bag close and used it as a pillow, letting my gaze fall on the lake. It looked like it went on forever. Maybe it did.

  After several hours of relaxation and quiet conversation, my stomach grumbled. Loudly. The muffin was a long, distant memory. We gathered up our stuff, pulled on shorts and our cover-ups and walked back into town. I’d noticed one of the restaurants on the main drag served lunch on their rooftop deck. It was busy but we found an umbrella table for four in a corner. From our amazing vantage point, we could see the marina’s channel and the lake in the distance.

  Linda scanned the menu. I looked over the crowd, scouting to see if there was a popular item being served. Two guys ascended the stairs and searched for seats. Their gazes shifted over the rooftop. One guy was about five foot eight, just a bit taller than me. He had thick blond hair worn a little long. The other guy was shorter and more muscular. Both were wearing slacks and long sleeved dress shirts. Definitely not vacationers. But the rooftop appeared overflowing. I didn’t notice any empty tables. They were in for a wait. Linda happened to look up. She sized up the situation in a blink. Pushing her sunglasses on top of her head, she caught the muscular guy’s attention and wiggled her fingers at him. I stared at her as he approached.

  “Hi.” His voice was so deep it belonged in the basement. “I don’t mean to impose but I wonder if my friend and I could join you. The place is packed and these are the only seats available. That is, unless you’re waiting for someone else.”

  Linda batted her lashes. “No, it’s just the two of us. Please, sit down. Then you can tell us what’s good on the menu.”

  He grinned and motioned to his friend. “I’m Jared. This sorry excuse behind me is Randy.” He gently shook our hands and settled into a chair.

  Randy followed suit. “I hope it’s not an imposition. The food is great. We weren’t expecting it to be this busy. Thought the lunch rush would be over by now.”

  Jared chuckled. “Mr. City Manager there thinks he’s still in Milton or whatever you call it in small-town Michigan. I keep telling him this is a vacation town. From Memorial Day to Labor Day, all bets are off. Tourism is big money. It’s what makes South Haven a paradise, at least, for a few months every year.”

  I looked over at the blond. “You’re kind of young to be the city manager.”

  Randy sputtered for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I get that a lot. But I was the deputy manager in Milford—not Milton, Jared— for three years and did a lot of municipal work before then. City planning, downtown development, that kind of thing.” He shifted gears quickly. “It’s all boring stuff, but necessary. Certainly not the topic for conversation for two lovely ladies on vacation.”

  “What’s the best thing on the menu?” Linda asked, “Because I’m starving.”

  “The shrimp croissant is excellent,” Jared said. “So is the bacon burger with bleu cheese. The fish and chips are better later in the week. And the pulled pork is outstanding. The barbecue sauce has a kick that sneaks up on you.”

  A young waitress wearing black micro shorts and a tank top with the bar’s logo on it appeared. She quickly took our orders. As she wiggled away, I noticed a sparkle on Jared’s left hand as he reached for his water glass. A wedding ring. Linda caught it, too. Automatically my eyes went to Randy’s hands. No jewelry or the telltale band of pale skin suddenly exposed to sunlight.

  “So what do you two do when you’re not basking in the sunshine?” Randy asked.

  Linda gave them both a sweet smile. “I’m a teacher. High school history. Jamie works for one of the Detroit area major newspapers as an investigative reporter. What about you? Are you really the city manager?”

  Randy nodded. “I was hired in February. It’s not as big as Milford, nor as close to the metropolitan areas, but important work nonetheless. And, a good career move.” He quickly explained some of his duties and responsibilities. I
was impressed Linda didn’t start yawning. While he filled her in on the busy life of a city planner, I realized he kept his gaze on me, as if memorizing my features. Uncomfortable, I toyed with the straw in my iced tea, then turned to Jared.

  “And what keeps you busy?”

  Jared barked another deep laugh. “Crime. Nothing as exciting as Detroit, but we still have to uphold the law. Mostly it’s keeping the peace, issuing a few traffic tickets, and busting the teenagers sneaking beers. That and chasing after my own kids.” He raised his left hand and wiggled his ring finger. “I think you already spotted this.”

  “That’s pretty observant,” Linda said with a smile. “How long have you been married?”

  There was pride in his voice. “Ten years. High school sweethearts. We got two daughters, six and eight. I did a couple of years at the community college, then went to the police academy. Sara’s an RN. She worked in hospitals for a while before signing on with a local doctor. Regular hours let us spend more time as a family.”

  “Sounds nice,” I said. I meant it. It was tough to make a relationship work. “So any big criminal investigations going on?”

  Jared raised a hand and grinned. “Oh, you’re definitely a reporter. How about ‘no comment’? I’m just here to grab lunch. Which, by the way, Randy is paying for.”

  We all glanced at him. Randy shrugged. “Tigers beat the White Sox last night. Came from behind late in the seventh.”

  “You bet against the Tigers?”

  He winked at me and grinned. “I thought the Sox were due.”

  “We can pay for our own lunch,” Linda said, using her softest, sultriest voice.

  Randy shook his head. “Nah, it’s the least we can do, since you were nice enough to share the table. Although, I was going to work the cop here for information.”