by Kat Bammer
“How’re you holding up?” Mary asked.
Lisa was so caught up in her memories, she jumped when Mary talked.
“You know, I sent Peter to the airport to pick you up, but you seemed a little tense around each other yesterday.”
Oh great, just what she needed, a heart to heart with Peter’s mom. “Everything’s fine. It was just an awkward situation yesterday.”
“I know something happened between the two of you, back when you were young. Your mom and I were sorry you and Peter had a fallout.
Heat flashed through Lisa’s body. They’d noticed? Fuck. So this was where Karen got her info from? Her mind raced. Think of something else to say, deflect, redirect. Think. Think. Think. “We were just kids.” Great, the line of the century.
“Maybe you’re right. Feelings are all over the place when you are young. Argh, not to say they are not all over the place all the time. You just have to look at Peter’s marriage or mine.”
What? Lisa stumbled across a stone and only just caught herself from falling. Wait? Peter was married? How could he be married, and this was the first time she’d ever heard about it? When did he get married anyhow, and did they have children?
“You all right?” Mary grabbed her arm to steady her.
Lisa smiled and nodded. “Just clumsy as usual.”
Mary let go of her and they took a few steps in silence.
“I’m sorry to hear; I mean, it sounds like their marriage isn’t going so well.” Lisa kept her voice neutral, but she itched to know more about it.
“Oh, they were married for about five years.”
Were. As in not anymore, right?
“They got married while he was still on active duty as a Navy SEAL. I didn’t get to know her back then—wasn’t invited for their wedding either, and they never visited until they decided to move back here.”
Peter and his wife lived here, in Moon Lake? Why hadn’t anybody told her?
“I was really happy at first—a daughter-in-law.” Mary looked at Lisa like she would understand, and Lisa nodded. “But she wasn’t the person I hoped her to be. I don’t think she was up to small-town living, as well, and their marriage wasn’t very solid.”
Okay. Lisa’s breathing was slightly too fast for the leisurely pace in which they wandered through the wood.
Peter had been married, and he had been a Navy SEAL. Did her mother and father know about all this? All Lisa had known was that he had signed up for the military, but nobody had ever conveyed any further details. Not even the friends she had infrequent contact with.
No wonder his body was hard as steel. She just had to close her eyes to recall it in vivid colors, pressed against her back.
“Well, I think, from what I’ve read, making it work under this kind of stress and being separated a lot, could be hard on a marriage.” Her only research was comprised of Navy SEAL Romance novels which she and Claire had devoured a while back, so she wasn’t entirely sure if her knowledge was at all accurate.
“Do they have kids?” Lisa asked after a non-committal hum from Mary, praying for the answer to be no.
“No, they don’t. Thank God for small favors. They were a beautiful couple, at least on the outside, but you can never look inside a marriage,” Mary said.
Lisa released a slow breath. No kids. Just a wife or ex-wife. “Does she still live here, after… They are separated, aren’t they?” Lisa prayed she wasn’t coming on too interested.
“She moved to Whitebrook after they separated. She works at the hospital, you know.”
Huh, maybe she’d already met her there.
“And Peter, where does he live now?” Lisa glanced sideways at Mary. Was she too curious? No. They hadn’t seen each other for years and she was just being polite.
Interested. Maybe a little disappointed.
Most of the time Lisa had been waiting for her life to happen; at least her love life had not been going anywhere meaningful. But Peter. He had a history. He’d lived his life to the fullest. Marriage and all.
“He bought the small house in the woods up Carter’s mountain—the old Sheridan place. Remote but he says he likes the privacy. It would scare me to death living there.”
Lisa remembered the old house. It had been empty for years after old Mr. Sheridan died.
Lisa and Mary stepped out of the wood again where Cookie waited for them. They rounded the Inn with its lovely wooden ornaments, and Cookie flopped down at the bottom of the steps to the kitchen door, completely spent after the short walk.
Lisa felt drained, as well. All this information about Peter. There was so much she didn’t know about him. And besides the chemistry when he touched her, or laid his eyes on her, there really was nothing between them anymore.
When he said he was interested in her, it made her think there was something between them. How foolish. More likely the feelings and the chemistry were just nostalgia and nothing else.
12
The heavy wooden door closed behind Peter with a smooth click. Inside, the honey-colored wooden planks on the floor, as well as on the sloping walls, gave the Fisherman Bar & Grill a rustic atmosphere. Intimate, like the inside of an oversized barrel.
The place was empty except for Mr. Patterson, the owner of the little store in town, and Mr. Brown, the oldest fisherman, sitting on the far end of the long wooden bar. They were talking and nursing a beer after a hard day out on the lake. Since the bar had its own pier, it was the go-to place for them. They looked up and greeted Peter before staring at the sports announcer commentating a fishing tournament on TV. The table area, he and his buddy, Sebastian Blake, had built together, from the same old wooden planks as the bar, were empty.
Peter spotted a couple of youngsters all the way at the back, by the pool table. But afternoons at the bar were always pretty slow. After Blake took over the bar, he tried to keep it closed until later, but the old fishermen, as well as the youngsters, soon persuaded him otherwise. The number of customers would change soon enough, then the bar would fill up to the brim. And not just with the usual dinner crowd, which were almost entirely locals, but also a flock of women, who crowded the bar, ever since they had taken one look at Blake. His buddy would have his hands full by then.
Peter took a seat on the old bar stool by the bar, the leather surface smooth and worn, but still comfy. He heard his old buddy mumble some explicit curse words and chuckled before he leaned on the other side of the bar and peered over it.
“Problems?”
Blake knelt on the floor, about to hook up a new keg.
“No, not at all—perfect timing as always—fresh beer coming up in a minute.” Blake glanced up at Peter, his eyebrows raised and his piercing, blue eyes focused on him. “Your step’s awful heavy. Anything up?”
Peter’s hand tightened around the edge of the bar; he shook his head and grinned.
“Geez, you still hearing how people walk? You’re weird.” Peter was still, to this day, surprised by the superhuman hearing of his best friend. Even though he should know better.
“On missions, you always appreciated my abilities.”
Peter’s face split into an even wider grin.
“At least we let you think that.” He couldn’t ignore the chance to rib his buddy a little. But Blake was right, more than one time he had heard something or someone coming, way before anyone else on the team. He could sometimes tell them specifics they would have never known otherwise. Just with his extraordinary hearing.
“Fuck you,” Blake said while rubbing the back of his neck.
Peter got serious again. “So, what about that beer?” He sat back on his bar stool. “You about ready or do you need help?”
Blake righted himself to his full height of six-six and cracked his head left and right.
With his height, his muscular frame, and his red beard, he’d earned the nickname Thor that he got on one of their first missions after surviving BUD/S together.
“I’m okay. Stop deflecting.” Blake tilte
d his head up and scowled at Peter. “What’s wrong?”
Peter gave a half-hearted shrug. “Can I get a beer first, wifey?”
“Of course, you can, after taking out the garbage, my dear,” Blake replied immediately with a high-pitched, saccharine voice.
They both grinned at each other and Peter relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been the right decision to come here this afternoon. Blake’s company always made him feel better. And he really could use a timeout after the ups and downs of the last few days.
“We found the missing woman.”
His memories of Lisa at the crime scene caused Peter’s stomach to clench. There had been a search party for three days prior, without any findings. The woman went missing after a visit at the bar in Stone Valley. Nobody had seen her leave, and she never came back to her hotel room.
Thinking of her room at the Inn made him think of Lisa. He hadn’t talked to her since yesterday, when he dropped off the keys and her car at the hospital, but he would see her tomorrow.
“Shit—dead I assume, with you dragging your ass in here like that.”
Peter nodded and stared down at his hands on the bar.
“Multiple stab wounds. Died days ago. Hopefully forensics will find concrete evidence this time.”
“This time?” Blake arched his left brow. “So, there’s been others?”
Peter sighed and rubbed his neck; he could feel a headache starting.
“Yeah, throughout the years, in the county, there have been several unsolved homicides with a similar MO.”
“Fuck.” Blake looked up from pouring the beer.
Peter nodded again and played with his keys on the bar in front of him.
“Yep, pretty much sums it up.” Peter hesitated. “Lisa found her.”
“Who?”
“Lisa.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. She from around here? Should I know her?” Blake looked up and cursed when beer started to spill over the glass.
“My Lisa.” It sounded awkward to Peter’s own ears. He didn’t earn the right to call her that but nevertheless it resonated deep within him.
Blake placed the beer in front of him and poured another one for himself. “Nope. Still nothing. Care to elaborate?”
Peter tilted his head up at the ceiling and sighed.
“Well, the girl I left hanging? Before I left town. She’s back.”
Blake’s eyebrows raised.
“Now, I remember. Ha, I still remember the night you told us the story. Never again seen you that wasted. You puked your guts out the next morning too.” He laughed a deep belly laugh before getting a grip again. “When did she come back? I haven’t heard about her yet, so it can’t be long. Mrs. Brooks always tries to find me a nice little wife to settle down with; she would have told me of any new, potential candidates.”
Peter tapped his food and fidgeted. He had no inclination to go down that route. Plus, Mrs. Brooks liked to play cupid for all the young people in town.
“So, she found the body?”
Peter nodded. “Yep, took it really hard. Shitty timing for her too—her dad’s in the hospital. Had an accident a few days back.”
Blake stopped his glass midway to his mouth. “So, she’s Reynold’s little daughter? You never told me that.”
Peters muscle tensed as he crossed his arms. “It’s not like I have nothing else on my mind, you know.”
Blake took a sip of his beer and silence stretched between them.
“So, how’d the reunion go?” he asked with a grin.
Peter’s face scrunched up. “Met her at the airport. Mom thought she needed someone to welcome her and give her a ride to the hospital.”
“Oh, aren’t you a good momma’s boy.” Blake’s grin widened. “I guess that didn’t go over so well.”
Peter’s mouth relaxed into a grin. “She was in the middle of ripping a couple of baggage handlers a new one—through the opening in the wall of the baggage belt. Hilarious to watch.” He chuckled at the memories. “Apparently her bag opened, and they threw her undies onto the belt, one at a time. She wasn’t in a very good mood.”
“No, shit.” Blake chuckled. “What did you do? Saved the damsel in distress, didn’t you?”
“Got her down, deflected her venom. I was the perfect gentleman; she, wasn’t as well behaved. I remember kicking and name-calling.”
“Not happy to see you then.”
“The name-calling came before she even recognized me, but no, she wasn’t too happy, but she was radiating.” Peter’s grin softened. Lisa was still the spitfire he remembered from back then. Only…more. More attractive, a lot sexier—just more.
“Are you serious? Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a fucking patsy—Radiating…” Blake mimicked. “How are things going with Theresa?”
Peter’s mood crashed at the thought of his ex-wife. “Now, that the divorce is finally settled, she thinks we should stay friends or something like that. She texts and calls and stuff.”
“You sure it’s friendship she’s after?”
Peter absently scratched his jaw. “I don’t know what she’s after and she doesn’t either. I guess her doctor might’ve ditched her. But I don’t care. Over and done with—took us long enough to make the final step. Now I just need her to get the hell out of my life.”
Blake’s eyebrows rose. “So…”
Peter cocked his head. “So…”
“Lisa then.”
Peter scrunched up his face then immediately relaxed it again. “There’s a lot of history between us. A lot of baggage. I guess she’s still pissed.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But she has a lot on her plate right now.”
Blake lifted his chin. “You were a dick, back then.”
Peter stiffened and sneered. “Yes, I was. Thanks for reminding me.”
He remembered the day he left town like it was yesterday. How their eyes met inside the grocery store. He had destroyed something good and he could still envision the hurt in her eyes even weeks later. But he was hurting so much inside. His own guilt and shame had been all-consuming. He should’ve protected his sister. Should’ve taken care of her, talked some sense into her…just done something. Maybe it would’ve made a difference. Or maybe not. But back then, he had no space for the feelings of others. “Maybe it’s time to make things right.”
“Maybe you had your chance.” Blake leaned against the back of the bar. “Carl always wanted me to meet her. Said a fine man like me would be good for her.”
Peter stared into his buddy’s eyes. Hard. His left hand clenched around his keys until it hurt, and he chugged down his beer before he leaped off the bar stool. “Thanks for the beer, bud. I have to go. And you”—he pointed his finger at Blake—“you just stay away from her. She has enough on her plate right now.”
His buddy’s face split into a wide grin and he lifted his hands in the air. “That was a little excessive, don’t you think? Don’t lose your cool over that chick.”
Peter felt a flash of heat and cleared his throat. “Just a little stressed out, that’s all.”
Lisa really brought forth all of his primal instincts. He’d felt so protective of her at the crime scene. And just the thought of another man in her life made his insides clench.
“Don’t bullshit me, Pete. You’ve never lost your cool. At least not under pressure or over a girl. She might be special.” Blake looked at him expectantly.
And he was right. He never lost his cool—nerves of steel; they had called him Steel for short. Was a second chance for Lisa and him even possible? They were both older now. Maybe they could leave the past behind and start fresh.
“I don’t think it’s the right time with her father in the hospital. She’s just decided to stay and take over the Inn. And she seemed pretty stressed about it when she told me yesterday.”
Blake wiped down the bar and put their glasses into the sink.
“So, wait a little, give her space, but if she’s the one…”
Peter scoffed. “God, look who’s talking.”
Blake laughed out loud. “I’m just good with women, that’s all.”
Peter shook his head and tapped on the bar twice. He turned when the door opened, and a rush of female voices flooded the bar.
“That you are. And your harem’s here to prove it.” He looked back at Blake and nodded toward a group of young women.
They both looked at each other and chuckled.
“See you around. Thanks for the beer, man.” Peter scooped his keys up from the bar and jiggled them.
“Hey, you heard something from the boys? We still on?” Blake said.
“Yep, everything good. Have to check at the Inn for rooms for them. But they are all coming. It’s only two weeks.”
“Will be good to see them again,” Blake said, his brows lowered.
“Sure will.”
Peter turned, thinking about their teammates who would come visit. He had to talk to Lisa about the rooms he would need for them. Maybe he should step back a little, let her deal with the problems at hand, and just forge a friendship with her. They were friends before that one dreaded night. Well, kind of, if you could call hanging out together in high school being friends.
Maybe they could become friends again—get to know each other as adults. Peter went past the table of young women without even acknowledging the longing looks they cast in his direction.
13
“Where are those damn keys?” Lisa shut another drawer. She looked at her watch. Ten minutes. She was searching for ten minutes and she still had no clue where the keys to the basement of the Inn could be. Maybe this was an omen. She wasn’t very keen to go down there, anyway. Stupid idea to reacquaint herself with the Inn before Claire arrived. There was enough time for them to do this together.
She took a deep breath. Maybe in her parents’ cottage—maybe they kept the keys there. Lisa made her way toward the cottage and stopped in the middle of the lawn that separated the small cottage from the Inn.
She shuffled her feet and looked down at the grass. She really should’ve visited her parents more often. She hadn’t ever been in there. Lisa took a deep breath before she climbed the stairs and entered the cottage through the old wooden door. It wasn’t locked, but that didn’t surprise her. Moon Lake was a small town. She couldn’t remember a single locked door back when she was a kid, neither at home nor at any of her friends’ houses. Now that she thought of it, it made the locked basement all the more unusual.