by Parker Riggs
He stepped forward. “Do what, Rosie?” he asked softly. “We’re just talking.” He smiled that sexy half-smile. “We talk on the phone all the time.”
She stared at him. He always did this, made her arguments sound unreasonable, and she realized in a rush that it was her fault he was there. If she really didn’t want him in her life, she should have shut him out completely five years ago.
“Hey,” he said when she didn’t reply. “You look beautiful as ever. I didn’t know those green eyes could get any greener.”
God give me strength, don’t let him draw me back in. “How are Crystal and the kids?”
“Crystal’s in South Carolina.”
“Visiting her sister?”
“No,” he said. “She’s moved in with her.”
It wasn’t the first time Crystal had walked out on Daniel, and chances were it wouldn’t be the last. His marriage was a revolving door, and he’d had plenty of chances to jump out. She felt herself step onto the deck. A bottle of wine and a bag of groceries were sitting next to the grill, and she wondered if he’d brought a suitcase, too. “Are you cooking?”
“I am, unless you want to shoot me instead.” He eyed the gun in her hand.
She laughed; she couldn’t stay mad. “Cosmo’s in the car.” She pressed the safety down on the gun. “Let me go get him, and then let’s eat.” She grinned at him. “I’m starving.”
At the water’s edge Cosmo ran along the beach, sniffing the sand, and Rose held her skirt up and slipped off her sandals. The water felt like silk. For the first time since Hal’s death, she felt relaxed, drinking beer in bare feet. Daniel stood on the shore, watching her.
“You really should have brought your bathing suit. We could have gone for a swim.” She took a sip of beer and watched him. His brown eyes were following her. “Actually most Havenites don’t really care about bathing suits.”
He laughed. “Haven has a wild streak?”
“Probably not wild enough for a spy like you.” A cool breeze touched Rose’s face just in time. She could feel a hot flash coming on. “Bet you don’t get to see a sunset like that every day.” She nodded to the horizon, where the sun looked like a blaze of fire.
But Daniel wasn’t watching the sunset, he was watching her trail her foot along the water. She remembered Australia, 1993. When their mission in Cairns was over, they’d taken time off to kayak from Mission Beach to Dunk Island, had snorkeled among the coral and tropical fish. With Daniel she never had to say much. He understood everything, and she thought how the best part of that trip had been being together in silence, the way they seemed to know each other’s rhythms without saying a thing.
“You must think I’m crazy for staying.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” he said. “You have a beautiful home, and you like your work. You got Beach’s wife to open up, tell you what you needed to know about Amber.”
“Hal’s still dead,” she said.
Daniel took a few steps closer to her. “I thought you were going to let the cops deal with the investigation.”
“Rocky can’t go up against the mob on his own, and the FBI isn’t going to help. They’ve got their own agenda.”
He watched her. “Ever get lonely?”
She studied the smooth stones beneath the clear lake water. If only she could be honest. It was peaceful here. Of all people, he would understand that peace was something she hadn’t had much of in her life. Haven felt a little like a drug, a needed sedative. But she couldn’t tell him. It felt too intimate to share, and they hadn’t been intimate in a long time. She took another sip of beer and looked out at the sunset. “Let’s just say it hasn’t been an easy year,” she said quietly.
Later that evening Rose lounged on an Adirondack chair, Cosmo curled up on her lap. She couldn’t see the lake in the dark, but she could hear the waves rolling on the beach, and the sound made her sleepy. Here’s a man who will cook for you, she thought. Filet mignon, grilled veggies, a big glass of Chilean wine and Swiss chocolate. She felt spoiled. Through the glass she could see the warmly lit living room with Cameron’s cerulean blue ocean scape above the stone fireplace. She turned to Daniel, who was studying the fire he’d made in the little deck pit Cameron had bought the weekend before he died. “Why are you here?” she asked suddenly. “Have things really changed at home?”
Daniel sighed. “Nothing ever changes.” His eyes glinted in the moonlight. “I love you, Rosie, I always have. If I’d met you before I’d married Crystal, before the kids came …” His voice trailed off.
“How do you live with a woman you don’t love?”
“How did you do it with Cameron?”
“That’s not fair.” She looked up at the painting again, thought of the comfort she’d felt with Cameron. She’d been sure of him in the same way she’d been sure of Hal. “I loved Cameron.”
“I thought you loved me.”
“It took me a long time to realize that saying I love you didn’t make me feel loved.” She smoothed the fabric of the blue taffeta blouse she was wearing. “I needed more than you could give me.”
“Did you get what you wanted from him?”
“He made me happy.” She touched the soft underside of Cosmo’s ear. “I needed some happiness in my life.”
When she looked up, his face had fallen. “I thought you were happy when we were together.”
“We worked together,” she reminded him, “and the lines got blurred, and it got dangerous. I still have the scar on my shoulder to prove it.”
“Did you know I found out you’d resigned in an email?” He was still watching her, and for the first time she saw what he might have looked like as a small boy.
“I’m sorry.” She reached out for his hand, and he took it. His palm was warm, and without knowing she would, she wrapped her fingers in his. “I didn’t think there was anything left to say.” They’d had this same conversation before, the last time at the Old Ebbitt Grill where she’d agreed to meet him for a farewell drink. Then she’d left D.C. and him in the rearview mirror of her car. “You’re married, Daniel, and you’re a wonderful father of two children you adore. There was never a place for me in that picture.”
“Your place is here.” He put his hand over his heart.
That’s me, she thought sadly, stuck in one spot with nowhere to go.
“I fell in love with you the first day we met.” He kept talking quickly, admitting more than she wanted to hear. “You were so young, so ready to take on the world, and you did take it on, in spades. If you hadn’t left Langley, they would have promoted you to the job I’m in now, and you would have deserved it. You were always smarter and braver than I was.”
“Well, maybe a little smarter,” she smiled, “but never braver.”
And then without thinking, she was leaning across the small wooden table, watching his lips, reaching toward him. Heat traveled up her legs. It had been such a long time, but she knew it wasn’t another hot flash. Their lips almost touched, but her cell rang, and they jumped apart. She looked down at the lit phone, resting between them on the little wooden table, took a deep breath and put the call on speaker.
“I forgot to ask you,” Rocky said before Rose even said hello. “You want to go with me tomorrow morning to see Chad?” She could feel Daniel’s eyes on her legs. “We could play good cop, bad cop.”
Rose peered into her wineglass. It was almost empty, and she finished it off. “Sounds good,” she said.
After they hung up, Rose put Cosmo on the deck floor and stood. “I should go to bed,” she said. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Daniel stood up with her. “Sure,” he said. “Of course. I’ve got a room waiting for me at the Hillside Resort.”
The moon was high now, and as she opened the French doors she wondered what time it was. She was worried about how careless she had gotten, drinking that big glass of wine and almost kissing him. If she kissed him, she might ask him to stay the night, and she couldn’t af
ford to do that. Her heart couldn’t handle the inevitable goodbye, especially now with Hal gone.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said on their way back through the living room. In the foyer she stood on the Turkish rug next to the antique armoire she loved, both gifts from Cameron. Loyal Cameron. “It was nice to see you.”
Daniel didn’t answer her, but she felt him standing behind her when she turned the latch. She stood next to Cosmo on the slate porch. When he looked back at her, his dark brown eyes looked confused, maybe a little betrayed. She gave an awkward little wave. “Well,” she said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Rose,” he said before she could turn around. “Were you going to kiss me, or was that some weird figment of my imagination.”
She laughed, but it came out sounding like a whoosh of air. Then she realized she wanted to cry. She wanted to run into Daniel’s arms and cry about losing Cameron and Hal, about the empty house she’d had to live in and the fact that she understood why Amber would change her identity and leave her old self behind. What made her saddest of all, she wanted to tell him, was that she was too old now to believe that one day they would run away together, lose themselves. She wanted to tell him it was exhausting to finally kick off your sandals and get your feet wet after keeping it together for so long.
As she had known he would, Daniel stepped forward and took her in his arms. She let her head rest on his clean, starched shirt, and she let herself breathe in his fresh laundry scent of soap. From the doorway Cosmo sat and watched, and above them the moths circled, both terrified and seduced by the light.
Chapter Seventeen
For what seemed the hundredth time, Rose checked her phone. No messages, no missed calls from Daniel. She wished Hal were alive so they could talk about what had happened last night. He’d understand her reluctance to let Daniel in. She could see him standing in her kitchen, watching her under the brim of his Proud to be Italian baseball cap. Cara Mia, Daniel’s life is complicated, and until it’s uncomplicated, do yourself a favor and keep your distance. She felt a little dizzy when she thought about Hal being gone, how untethered she felt.
She glanced over at Rocky. He was driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a cup of hot chocolate, the same way Hal had liked to cruise the streets in his pimped-up Buick. The only thing missing was an egg and sausage breakfast sandwich on the dashboard. She wondered if Rocky was on a diet. “Do you miss him?” she asked.
Rocky glanced over at her. “’Course I miss him,” he said. “Keep wanting to call him. Keep thinking I’ll still find him at the counter when I go in for breakfast at Table Talk, keep almost stopping by his place to drink a beer or two or three.” Rocky’s eyes had a faraway look Rose had never seen. “I guess there’s no bargaining with God, and when it’s your time, it’s your time.” Rocky drove for a while, and Rose watched the outskirts of Haven pass outside the window. She thought again how she might have been the last person to talk to Hal before he died. How’s it coming? She’d called him on the way to the grocery story, just like any other day. Hell if I know, but if she’s here, I’ll find her. His voice had a certainty to it that Rose loved. “Had a partner die on me early on,” Rocky said suddenly. “About killed me, the grief. Died off duty, run down by a snowplow, horrible story. Anyway, I sort of steeled myself after that for what might come, but you’re never really prepared.” He stopped in front of a traditional New England Cape Cod house that looked absolutely stellar for the area. “I guess you just gotta face life head on, no matter what.” He turned the ignition off. Two cars were parked in the driveway, both with New Hampshire license plates. One was an antique convertible Mustang that looked as if it had just rolled off the assembly line. Rose guessed that must be Chad’s. The other one was a POS, muffler of which appeared to be held on by a pair of shoelaces. The bumper sticker said Surfers Ride It Better. Not someone she would have expected an old art teacher to hang out with. Rocky winked at her. “Show time,” he said. “You question, I’ll intimidate.”
“Let’s do it.” Rose followed him up the porch steps and watched him ring the doorbell.
“Maybe we’ll wake him up,” Rocky said under his breath, but Chad opened the door, wide awake and holding a large mug of tea that smelled like oranges. His pink shirt was the same color as the nightgown Rose had stepped out of an hour before.
“Hope we’re not interrupting your morning,” Rocky said.
“Oh, not at all, Detective Rhodes, and, ah …” Chad looked blankly at Rose.
“Rose Chandler,” she said. Men didn’t often forget her, and she’d just met Chad at Rocky’s barbeque. “The private investigator.”
A film seemed to slide over Chad’s eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s right, and owner of Mountain Arts, I remember now.” He opened the door a little wider. “Is this a social visit or a professional one?”
“Oh, it’s professional,” Rocky said. “May we come in?”
Before Chad had finished saying, “Be my guests,” Rocky was ducking his head and walking over the threshold.
The living room walls were covered with African and Asian hand-carved masks that looked stolen from some ancient museum. The couches were low and loosely slip-covered in burgundy velvet, and their seats were filled with embroidered cushions of deep, rich colors. Beaded lamps stood on every coffee table, and oriental rugs covered the floor. Rose smelled burned sage and lavender. Chad stood there looking at them. “Do you mind if I have a seat?” she asked.
“Oh,” Chad skipped from one foot to the other. “Of course.” He glanced at the stairs.
Rose sat in one of the low-slung velvet chairs, and Rocky nodded for Chad to take the other. With Rocky towering over him, Chad looked slightly uncomfortable. “We won’t take up too much of your time.” Rocky reached into his jacket for his notebook. “We’d just like to talk to you about the night of June twenty-first.”
Chad gave him a quick, very white smile. “Ah, the summer solstice.”
“That’s right,” Rose said. Rocky flipped to a blank page. Above their heads, the ceiling creaked loudly. Someone was walking across the floorboards. “Do you have company?” Rose asked.
Chad glanced at his watch. “Can I ask what this is about?”
“June twenty-first,” Rose said. “Where were you?” The chair she was sitting in felt as if it might swallow her.
Chad tried to find Rocky, who had quietly moved behind him. “Why am I being questioned by a private investigator?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Ms. Chandler’s assisting me,” Rocky said, rocking back on his heels. “She has a vested interest in an ongoing investigation.”
Chad glared at Rose. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”
Rose tapped her foot. Her Chanel shoes sounded loud on the wood floor, and she noticed that despite Chad’s displeasure at her being there he couldn’t resist looking at them. “June twenty-first?” she asked again. She had a fond memory of buying the shoes at the Chanel boutique on the Via del Babuino in Rome, a shop she always visited when she was working there.
“I was home all day,” he said, studying her shoes, “and I had a friend over for dinner.”
“Name of friend?” She kept tapping her foot. It seemed to mesmerize Chad.
“Amber French.”
Rose nodded, not missing a beat with the shoes. “How long was she here?”
Chad looked a little dazed. “She had too much to drink, and I didn’t think it was safe for her to drive, so she spent the night.” He touched his index finger to his lips as if sharing a secret.
“What was she drinking?” Rose saw that the candles Chad had placed around the room were all low as though he’d left them burning all night.
Chad sipped his tea and looked at Rose over the rim. “Wine,” he said. “Chimney Rock Cabernet, to be exact.”
“What time did she leave?”
Chad pursed her lips. “Are you asking me to kiss and tell?”
Rose suppressed a sigh. “I’m askin
g what time she left your house.”
“I wasn’t counting the hours.” Chad winked mischievously. “But it was early the next morning.”
Rocky had been strolling the room, taking notes. He stopped next to Chad’s chair and stared down at him. “Do you only date young women?”
“What a question!” Chad stroked his long sideburns. “Why would you ask me that?”
“You invited Veronica Montrose to my barbeque, and she’s about the same age as Amber. I can do math.”
Chad smoothed his tight white jeans. “I like to think I’m attractive to women of all ages.” Rose saw him flex the muscles of his smooth, tan forearm. “I work out, keep in shape, and I’m retired with a nice income. A lot of women, young or old, find that appealing.”
“I suppose they do,” Rocky said. He scribbled in his notebook.
Rose thought he should write the word narcissist in his notes. “How’d you meet Amber?” she asked.
“The art gallery.” Chad studied his manicured fingernails. “You weren’t there at the time.”
When Rose crossed her legs, Chad glanced down at her shoes again. “When was this?” Rocky asked.
Chad shot a look at Rocky, who seemed to be studying a particularly disturbing mask that was sticking its tongue out at them. “It was in February,” Chad said slowly, “about a month after I moved here.”
“So you’ve been dating the last four months?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it dating.” Chad had a lisp that seemed to come out when he was aggravated. “We see each other occasionally.” His eyes darted back and forth between Rose and Rocky. “It’s not exclusive.”