Over Maya Dead Body

by Sandra Orchard

  Yes, the closest he’d ever come to asking me on a date was as an undercover op or maybe as a backhanded way to thwart Nate. And maybe I’d totally misread his interest.

  And Nate was a spy, for crying out loud. I was totally confused. I buried my face in my hands.

  Tanner squeezed my shoulder, his clasp warm and firm. “You should get some rest.” He hunkered down where Nate had been only moments earlier and tugged my hands from my face. The tender look in his chocolate brown eyes made my heart somersault.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”

  His lips curved in a gentle smile that stole my breath. “I thought it’d be more noble to ensure you knew all the facts,” he said softly.

  Noble? My mind zigzagged back to our discussion about Frank and Marianne—how noble Frank had been to walk away. What was Tanner saying? That he wouldn’t walk away without a fight?

  “Do I know all the facts now?” I asked unevenly.

  Tanner shrugged ever so slightly. “Not that I think it’d matter all that much to you, but Nate is a multimillionaire too. Old money, on his mother’s side.”

  I blinked, not sure what stunned me more—that my apartment superintendent was rich or that Tanner was still talking about Nate instead of himself.

  Tanner stroked his thumb across my cheek and smiled. “You did good today. I’ve never been more proud. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  I nodded, still too flabbergasted to form a coherent sentence, and then he walked away.

  Walked away.

  Aunt Martha pushed to her feet. “We should go too. It’s been a long day.”

  I looked from Aunt Martha to Nate and was overwhelmed by the oddest disappointment and the realization that I wished Nate and Aunt Martha had left.

  And Tanner had stayed.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I mumbled. “I won’t betray your secret.”

  “I know you won’t,” Nate said, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I think you know why. I’ll pick up Harold before I go.”

  I stared at him mutely. I hadn’t even known my own heart until sixty seconds ago. How could he?

  He chuckled. “Trust me, Serena, if you looked at me the way you just looked at Tanner, I would not be walking away. Catching people off guard doesn’t always give one the upper hand. But take my advice as someone who’s been where you are. Life is a journey, not a destination.”

  “I believe Emerson said that first,” Aunt Martha chimed in.

  We both shot her a look.

  She held up her hands in surrender. “Not that it’s important who said it. I’ll wait in the car.”

  Nate turned back to me. “You understand what I mean, right? Don’t make the mistake of thinking some future state, such as your grandfather’s killer behind bars, is somehow more real or important than the present.”

  “I hear what you’re saying.”

  “Tanner is a good guy.”

  I sighed.

  Nate chuckled. “I’ll take good care of Harold until you get home.”

  “I know you will.” I hugged him hard. “Thank you for being here.”

  37

  I showed up at the Oak Bluffs police station the next morning to the news they’d executed the search warrants within twenty minutes of receiving the report that I’d been kidnapped the night before. The pile of antiquities at Frank’s had understandably raised the officers’ hopes they’d found the ringleader, but his documentation for each and every piece had proved impeccable.

  Carly, on the other hand, had no antiquities in her possession, but a little black book police recovered from her desk at Hill and Dale Architects looked promising for helping Isaak track down her buyers. Not that Carly was being uncooperative. She’d told Isaak everything we wanted to know about the art smuggling operation. It was Jack’s death she refused to comment on.

  “I think you’ll want to hear this.” The police chief ushered me into a small room where Tanner was waiting, staring at the two-way mirror, his arm braced against the wall, his forehead pressed to his clenched fist. He looked like he’d just lost his best friend.

  My heart thundered. I’d had all night to process what he’d said, and not said, and had maybe implied, and I still wasn’t ready to face him. I’d been held at gunpoint, run off the road, even kidnapped, but none of those situations had scared me as much as the feelings that rushed through me at the sight of Tanner.

  Straightening, he glanced my way, his professional FBI facade slipping into place and masking whatever had been going through his mind. He searched my gaze for only a second before returning his attention to the two-way mirror. “They’re interrogating Carly.”

  My heart tripped. That was it? He wasn’t curious how my talk with Nate went? Did he force Nate’s confession for no other reason than I should have all the facts before going gaga over Nate?

  Was my notion Tanner had a romantic interest in me nothing more than a silly dream?

  The detective interrogating Carly held up a pair of jeans he said they’d found in her laundry hamper. “Were you wearing these when you went to Menemsha Hills Tuesday night?”

  Holding my breath, I narrowed my attention to Carly.

  “I don’t know. I have lots of pairs of jeans,” she said.

  The detective pointed to a mark on the front of the jeans. “These have a tiny bleach stain and your mother said you used bleach before you left that night. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “So are these the jeans you wore that night? They were the only pair in your laundry hamper.”

  “Then yes, probably.”

  The detective placed a photograph on the table. “This is the last photograph on Jack’s camera.”

  The one Nate developed? My gaze shot to the chief, who’d joined us at the window.

  “We can’t use it in court because there was no chain of custody,” he said, acknowledging my unspoken question, “but she doesn’t know that. If she thinks we have her, then she may confess in hopes of a reduced sentence.”

  “Those are your jeans in the picture, aren’t they?” the detective pressed.

  Carly glanced at the picture and visibly swallowed. “I already told you I was there.”

  “We believe Jack snapped this picture as he fell down the stairs.”

  Her face paled. “But you can’t prove that.”

  “It’s the only wasted shot on the film. In fact, we’ve reviewed dozens of his negatives. No others show him accidentally snapping a picture of someone’s legs or the ground or even a thumb. I think the jury will believe our theory.”

  “I didn’t push him,” she said. “He stumbled.”

  My breath rushed from my lungs at what her admission meant—she’d seen him fall.

  “And then tumbled down the stairs to the rocky shore?” the detective clarified.

  “There was nothing I could do.” Carly burst into tears.

  “So you ran away?”

  “No, I ran down after him, but he was hurt bad, real bad. I buried my face against his chest and told him how sorry I was.” Carly swiped at her eyes with her sleeve, and I felt my own eyes tearing at the pure anguish on her face. “He said, ‘I love you, Carly. I will always love you.’”

  I gulped a sob. That sounded just like Uncle Jack.

  “I wanted to do the right thing,” Carly went on, “for Jack. He was always talking to me about how much God loves me. And I never believed him, not when God took my dad and Mom ended up in the psych ward. But I started thinking if Jack could still love me after . . . after . . . everything, maybe God could too.”

  “So why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

  “I tried, but my phone had no reception. I ran out to my car and a call came in from Charlie. I told him what happened and he told me to get out of there before anyone spotted me.” She sobbed into her hands. “And now he’s dead too. It’s all my fault.”

>   “Well,” the chief said to Tanner and me, “it’s not the confession we were hoping for, but at least she’ll do time for the smuggling charges.”

  I let out a pent-up breath. “I think I believe her.” And somehow I was pretty sure Jack would be okay with the lesser charge. He’d probably echo Nate’s advice to me too. Tell me to take time to enjoy today. “Thanks for letting me watch the interview,” I said to the chief.

  “It was the least I could do after all you two went through to bring her into custody.”

  My gaze met Tanner’s and the events of the night before cascaded through my mind once more.

  “Can we talk?” he asked softly.

  My heart did a triple somersault. “Where?”

  He walked me out to the Land Rover I was still borrowing from Winston. “Follow me.”

  He drove to State Road and then headed toward West Tisbury.

  The scenery went by in a blur as I tried to guess where he was headed and what he intended to say when we got there. Every few seconds, he glanced at his rearview mirror as if he was afraid he’d lose me.

  My heart did another somersault at that thought.

  We reached Quansoo Road and he headed toward Jack’s, only he didn’t pull in. He parked at the Quansoo Farm trailhead just past the house and was out of the car and ready to open my door by the time I joined him.

  “Let’s walk.” He steered me across the long open field that stretched to the sandy shoreline.

  The wind wasn’t too strong, but the waves still seemed to thunder. Or maybe that was my heart. Overhead, the sky was pure blue. “It is an idyllic place to vacation,” I said inanely.

  “Hmm.” He stopped and faced me, looking serious.

  I glanced back at our cars that were now mere dots in the distance. “You worried I’ll want to make a run for it?” I said, but my joke fell flat when Tanner grimaced instead of laughed.

  “That’s not what I’m worried about,” he muttered.

  Oh.

  The nervous flapping he was doing with his fingers against his palm was starting to make me nervous.

  More nervous. Um . . .

  “Nate flew home with Harold this morning,” I said in a rush, not sure whether this was going to make things more awkward or less.

  Tanner went still, closing his eyes for a brief moment before looking at me steadily. “That’s good. Because I called headquarters this morning and requested a transfer from the major theft squad.”

  “What? Why?” My heart rioted. Tanner loved working major thefts. “I know that kiss was just part of our cover. You don’t have to do this. We work well together. I don’t want you to feel—”

  He pressed two fingers to my lips. “Serene-uh,” he said, a smile finally breaking through as he shook his head at me. His mock-scolding look morphed into something . . . different. “Please don’t apologize for the way you make me feel.”

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Serena, agents in the same squad can’t date,” he said, drowning out my apology.

  I blinked stupidly. “Date?”

  “That’s right. It’s against the rules. Because when you’re crazy about someone, it’s too difficult to think straight. You may beat the bad guy to a pulp for laying his hands on the woman you—”

  “Wait. You’re crazy about me?”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled once more. “You finally noticed.”

  “I didn’t . . . I thought . . . I . . .” Too flustered to utter a coherent thought, I wagged my hands. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Tanner caught my arms by the wrists. “Say you’ll spend the day with me.”

  “The day? You mean . . . like a date?”

  Laughing softly, he tenderly kissed the inside of my wrist and, wow, I was starting to understand what the word swoon really meant. “Dating. Courting,” he said. “Whichever you want to call it.”

  My arm was still tingling from his feather-light touch. “You requested the transfer so you could go out with me?” I couldn’t quite keep the disbelief from my voice, never mind how many times I’d let myself imagine the possibility he cared for me that way.

  His eyes twinkled and he kissed my other wrist. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Definitely swooning. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling shy, and dropped my gaze to my hand cradled in Tanner’s.

  An image of another hand flashed through my mind. A memory.

  My pulse jumped. “He had a birthmark on his wrist!”

  Tanner frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Granddad’s killer. Remember, I told you how just before the burglar came in Granddad hustled me into the secret passage behind his bookshelves? Well, after their scuffle, I saw the intruder’s hand return a book to the shelf.” I squeezed my eyes shut and willed the memory to return. “He had a splotchy purple mark on his wrist.”

  Tanner’s clasp on my hands tightened, drawing my gaze to his. The amused glint had disappeared, supplanted by a whirlwind of questions.

  Nate’s advice echoed through my mind. Was putting Granddad’s killer behind bars more important to me than the here and now? Than Tanner?

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed and his chocolate brown eyes grew impossibly darker.

  “No, I mean, I’m sorry about getting sidetracked. The memory was just so surprising and vivid.”

  “I understand how important finding your grandfather’s killer is to you,” Tanner said softly. “You know I will always support your efforts to find him.”

  “Yes. But look at Jack. We’ll never know if Carly pushed him or not. What if it’s the same with Granddad’s killer? What if I never find him?”

  “No one will love you any less.”

  I didn’t respond. Deep down I sensed it should be enough that God knew who killed Granddad, since He must have His reasons for leaving the rest of us in the dark.

  “You know I’m the last person who should give advice on having a life outside of work. But do you think your grandfather would want you to put the rest of your life on hold in pursuit of his killer?”

  I thought about Tanner’s question for a long time. “No, he wouldn’t. Granddad loved art, but he loved his family more. He’d want me to . . .” have a family too. I swallowed hard.

  “Okay, don’t get used to this, but I’m going to get mushy here.”

  My heart hiccupped.

  “I have to admit I never thought I’d want to settle down,” Tanner said, “but from the moment you walked into my life, you’ve turned my world around.”

  “Really?” I squeaked.

  His eyes danced. “Yes, really,” he said, his thumb skimming the back of my hand still held in his. “The hours I spend with you are my favorite of the day. I wanted more but was afraid of jeopardizing our working relationship.”

  “I—”

  He pressed a finger to my lips once more. “Let me finish, okay? I love your contagious smile and quick wit. I love how you challenge me and I feel honored when you seek out my advice. I don’t love that sometimes you stir protective feelings in me so fierce I can’t think straight.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes.

  Tanner gently whisked a teardrop from my cheek. “Come to think of it, I guess I do kind of love that feeling too. And I love how your dedication and faith keep me centered.”

  My breath piled up in my chest as Tanner’s expression turned rueful.

  “And yes, seeing you with Nate made me ache in a way I never could’ve imagined.” Tanner tenderly cupped my jaw. “It also made me realize that spending time with you is a gift I don’t want to waste. I love our work but I love you more.”

  “You love me?” I said breathlessly.

  “Well . . .” The mischievous grin I’d always secretly adored made an appearance, complete with dimples. “It’s either that or I have a wicked case of heartburn.”

  “Tanner!” I swatted at him, but he caught my hand and intertwined our fingers instead.r />
  “So what do you say? Will you spend the day with me?”

  Ignoring the way our joined hands made my heart swell to bursting, I gave him a mischievous grin of my own. “Well . . .” I echoed, complete with dramatic pause, “if things don’t work out between us, there’s always Jeffrey Dean Morgan.”

  Tanner’s expression turned puzzled. “Who?”

  I laughed. Tanner’d been hounding me to reveal the name of his movie-star look-alike as long as we’d known each other. And now that I finally had he didn’t even catch on. “Don’t worry. You’ll have a lifetime to figure it out.”

  Epilogue

  Don’t tell my mother. But she was right all along.

  Tanner transferred from Major Theft to Counterintelligence and our first date spiraled into a whirlwind romantic courtship. And by autumn, Mom’s fondest wish came true—Tanner and I married.

  Tanner, looking unbelievably handsome in his black tux, happily obliged our glass-tinkling guests and swept me into another breathtaking kiss. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  I laughed. “Only a couple dozen times. How about telling me where you’re taking me for our honeymoon?”

  Zoe, my best friend and nine-months-pregnant matron-of-honor sitting beside us at the head table, tapped me on the shoulder. “Uh, Houston, we have a problem.”

  We instantly sprang to our feet. “The baby’s coming?”

  Her husband, Jax, rushed forward.

  “I’m so sorry,” Zoe said.

  “Are you kidding me? This is awesome!” I squealed.

  “We’ll name her after you,” Zoe called over Jax’s shoulder as he whisked her out to their car.

  Chuckling, Nate sidled up to me. “Glad to see your life is still as full of surprises as ever.” He gave me a hug. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Nate.” I glanced at his date, Lisa. The same Lisa Tanner and I had interrogated about Ben on Martha’s Vineyard. It turned out that as Nate was heading off island, he happened upon a traffic accident at the same time as Lisa did, and they worked together to take care of the victims until paramedics arrived. They’d been in communication ever since. “The two of you getting serious?” I asked.