by Dixie Davis
Ray must be mixed up.
But, as much as he consulted with his reclusive wife, being mixed up that badly didn’t seem like Ray.
Before she headed out to make sure her guests, the Townsends, weren’t wandering around lost, Lori made one last email check.
A new email was waiting, but not from one of her boys. With an inner sigh, Lori clicked to open the email from one of the guests arriving later this week. Hopefully not a cancellation.
I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you, the email started. I just got this email. Don’t know what took it so long!
Lori skimmed the rest of the email, but couldn’t help furrowing her brow. That wasn’t the first time lately someone apologized for not seeing an email she’d barely sent. Her mind half on her work, Lori tapped out a response to the guest’s question about pets — no.
Why would you apologize for missing an email that you’d just gotten? Lori scrolled down to the original message. The dateline read April 19.
Huh? She’d just sent this, and it wasn’t the nineteenth. Was it? She was sure it was the twenty-first. Lori double-clicked on the clock in the corner of her screen and the date and time popped up. April 19.
What? No. Lori turned to a wall calendar and found the right Monday. Definitely the twenty-first.
So why did her computer think it was two days ago?
Joey’s footsteps reached her only a second or two before he did, and he assessed the situation immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“My stupid computer has the date wrong, and a couple emails seem to have gone out to guests with the wrong date.”
It was Joey’s turn to furrow his brow. “Why would that happen?”
“No idea.” She was competent with computers, but they had never been her strong suit.
“Well, I’m sure I can take care of that for you, too.”
Lori beamed up at him. One less problem on her plate sounded wonderful. But — “Do you know how to fix that?”
“No, but I’m sure Google does.”
She held back a laugh. Joey might not have the handyman skills that would be really nice in a partner at the inn — she couldn’t wait to see Mitch’s bill — but his innkeeping skills might make up for that.
Joey rounded the desk and came to lean over her, verifying the date problem. “Hm.” He took the mouse and started to click around, but he kept talking. “Any luck with your suspects?”
Lori nodded slowly. “Maybe.”
“Enough for a reasonable doubt?”
She couldn’t be sure of that. In a post-Matlock world, maybe a jury would hold her to a higher standard than pointing a finger at someone in court.
Joey frowned at the screen. “Hm.”
“Problem?”
“No, I just don’t know how to fix this. I’ll give my friend a call and figure it out.” He looked up. “But while we’re looking at dates, why don’t we figure out when would be a good time for our wedding?”
“Okay.” Lori forced herself to smile. Of course she wanted to marry him. It was just hard to focus on that with the other big day hanging over her.
“I’m assuming you want your boys here.”
Lori nodded. Still needed to tell the boys, though.
“They’ll need a couple weeks’ notice to get tickets. What about the . . . fifth?”
She glanced at the calendar. That was exactly two weeks from today, and it was a Monday.
Realistically, there was no reason why they needed to get married so fast. The tourist season would be starting, and that weekend already had some guests scheduled, she thought. Plus, logistics would be easier if they took their time. “That’s awfully fast.”
“I know, it is — faster than I’d even planned — but . . .” Joey looked away and blew out a breath. “I’m worried about what might happen if we wait. I don’t know what the legal steps would be, worst-case scenario.”
Of course. She didn’t want to get married in a jail cell either, or do anything else there ever again.
“Okay,” she said. “The fifth.” Butterflies hit her stomach in attack mode. She needed a dress, and food, and had Joey ordered the cake — and what would she do with her hair? Every dress she owned made her look tired. Or maybe she just was tired, but she’d like to not look like that on her wedding day. And what would she do with her hair? Up, down, curly, wavy, straight?
These butterflies were better than the hornet’s nest of worry over the other issue that might become a permanent resident. She would do everything she could to prove her innocence, but when she couldn’t hunt for clues, the inn and the wedding would be welcome distractions.
Joey held out the cordless phone to her. Calling her boys to spring an engagement on them might not be so welcome, but the longer she waited, the worse it would be. She dialed Doug’s number and held her breath.
“Hello?” he answered, his voice so like Glenn’s.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Hey, Mom. How are you?”
Thank heaven he didn’t ask what was wrong. Too much to list. “I have some good news.”
“Oh?”
“Doug.” She steeled herself. “I’ve mentioned how I met someone, right?”
There was silence on the line for a beat, long enough for Lori’s worry to sprout into panic. She’d told him. She’d mentioned it in her email. Hadn’t she?
“Finally!” Doug said at last. “I doubt I have to ask this, but he’s a good guy? Takes care of you?”
“Yes.” Lori shot a smile in Joey’s direction, though he couldn’t hear the conversation. Just in the last few days, he’d entered data, cleaned, prepared guest rooms, bought groceries, fixed the computer — all for her. “He takes very good care of me.”
“You sound happy.”
“Very, which is why that’s only part of my good news.”
Lori waited to see if Doug would guess or react at all, but he remained silent.
So Lori let the other shoe drop. “We’re getting married.”
The silence on the line continued. “Um, wow,” Doug said finally.
“Yep. Wow.”
“When did this happen?”
Lori looked to Joey, although, again, he couldn’t hear the unease in Doug’s voice. “He proposed about a week ago.”
“Wow. Congratulations, Mom.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” She realized she was pacing in a circle in the little office and forced herself to stop. Doug was saying all the right things, so he couldn’t be too upset. Right?
Joey raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Lori couldn’t answer him yet.
“Do you have a date?” Doug asked.
“Actually, yes, that’s why I’m calling. We’re thinking of getting married next month.”
“Oh — oh!” Doug’s tone was a mix of surprise and . . . something short of delight. “That’s really fast.”
“I know, but we wanted to be settled before tourist season picked up, rather than waiting until later.” She didn’t have to tell him about the other news, which was at least as shocking but not nearly as happy. Not yet, at least.
“We really want you to be here with us,” Lori continued. “We’re looking at the fifth. It’s a Monday.”
Doug gave a low whistle, but no other answer at first. Maybe he was checking a calendar though? “Ooh,” he said. “I’ve got a conference that day, and I can’t miss it.”
Lori glanced at Joey. “Well, we haven’t set anything in stone yet. If that doesn’t work for you, we might be able to push it back?” She curled up the end of the sentence, making it a question for both Doug and Joey.
Joey shrugged one shoulder. “The twelfth?”
She echoed the new date to Doug.
“Uh, I think so. Gives me a little more time to shop for tickets, too. When are Adam’s finals?”
Lori bit her lip. That was another thing she hadn’t taken into account. He was supposed to be back around the fifth. Hopefully the twelfth would work better for him, too. “
I’ll talk to him and let you know.”
“Okay. Congratulations again, Mom. Make sure he takes good care of you, or you’ll have to break a wooden spoon across his butt.”
“That was one time, Doug!” One time that she’d never hear the end of.
Did Doug know that Joey was only a decade older than him? What would he say when he found out?
“But seriously, I want to talk to this guy. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for you.”
She’d handled enough surprises today; she’d hold off on surprising Joey right back. “You will, later. Be good!”
“You too, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you.” She clicked the button to end the call.
“Well?” Joey asked.
Lori looked up. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“What were you expecting?” Laughter danced in his eyes.
“I don’t know; how would you react if your mom called you up out of the blue and said she was getting married?”
“Considering she’s still married to my step-dad, I’d be pretty darn surprised.” The laughter escaped this time.
Lori rolled her eyes and swatted him in the belly. “Thank you, Mr. Comedian.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome.” She gave him a quick peck before he left the office.
With one phone call remaining. Hard enough telling Doug, but Adam would be even harder, since he was in Germany. With the time difference and international calling, she couldn’t ring him up whenever she wanted. He’d had her get the program Skype, but he probably wasn’t online right now.
She typed up a message to send him in the chat, but thought better of it. It would be better if she could see his face while she told him. Instead, she typed out a time for a Skype date the next afternoon. That should give him enough time to see it. That would be evening for him, so hopefully that would work for his schedule.
Somehow, telling the boys made it even more official than the marriage license. Instead of sixty days, she’d be married in a little over three weeks.
If she wasn’t back in jail.
No. She couldn’t let that happen. They had a lot to do to plan the wedding in three weeks, but they’d made a good start. Time to focus on her suspects list.
The next morning was the first time Lori had actually enjoyed breakfast with her guests, and it could not have been more perfect. The kids were as crazy as she’d expected, but not naughty, so she didn’t mind at all. One of these days, Doug would call with good news of his own and she could really start thinking about grandkids.
Joey had slept in, so Lori was left to clear away the breakfast dishes, but the Townsend family lingered a little longer. “Miss Lori,” the wife, Emma, asked, “we had so much fun at the beach yesterday, but we want to do something different today.”
“Sure. Dusky Cove has a ton of things for a young family to enjoy.” And hopefully, she’d remember what those things were any second now . . .
Finally, Ray’s list popped up in her mind. “You might try the canoe trails or the Salt Marsh Boardwalk — it’s like a boardwalk through the marsh — but I’m not sure those would be super different than the beach itself.” Lori glanced at the children running actual circles around their dad. They looked to be about five and seven. Old enough to take to a museum, but maybe not quite old enough to enjoy it, though Andrea did try to make things fun for the kids. “Or if you’d like to stick to places with air-conditioning, the Museum of Dusky Cove has some programs for kids.”
“There were some historical sites we were looking at.” Emma turned to her husband. “Which ones again?”
“Let me check.” Scott jogged off for the stairs, leaving the kids to run their circuit around a table instead.
“Dusky Cove was first settled in colonial times. Cape Fear was named in the 1500s.” Lori tried to fill in the gaps with what she did know about the area so far. “We’ve got quite a few historical sites around. The Mayweather House itself is one.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it was built in 1774. Oldest surviving residence in the town.”
Emma nodded, her lips sending the “impressive” signal.
Her husband returned, carrying a few pieces of paper. “Okay, we were looking at visiting the fort and . . .” He flipped through the pages. “Have you ever been to the jail?”
Lori startled, then froze. Scott and Emma both narrowed their eyes.
They knew. Chills crawled down her arms. How did they know? Was it in the news? She hadn’t set out the Tuesday paper yet, and there was no Monday edition of the Dusky Chronicle.
Scott finally lowered his skeptical eyes to the printout in his hand. “Says here the building was used in colonial times up until the Civil War.”
Oh — the Old County Jail, the historic site on the other side of town. “Yes, right. I haven’t seen it yet myself. If you do, let me know how you like it.”
Scott nodded slowly. Suspicious. “Will do,” he said. “See you later.” He herded his family out of the room a little too quickly.
And to think, Lori was almost starting to feel like a normal human again.
She wasn’t going to sit back and be a victim while someone tried to frame her. She had to fight. And today, she could do that by attending this week’s Dusky Cove Business Owners Association meeting.
Trepidation tugged at Lori’s heart as she approached the red-roofed community center. Every encounter she’d had with Heidi over the last week had only dug her deeper, from Heidi overhearing her complaints about Dawn to promoting Kim’s gossip. Was confronting the woman again a good idea?
Lori stopped short of the door, wringing her hands. Was it her imagination that every conversation with Heidi made the case take a turn for the worse?
She recounted her previous conversations with Heidi: the night before the murder, and the day after, and the night before the arrest. That was a pretty bad track record.
On the other hand, how did it get worse than being arrested for a crime she didn’t commit? It wasn’t like she’d get a guilty verdict in the next twenty-four hours.
She hoped.
Lori peered through the window on the door. She couldn’t see anything, but she knew Heidi was in there and the minute she walked in, the tide would turn against her again.
No. She couldn’t let Heidi cow her. That would be letting that harpy win, and maybe even letting her get away with murder.
Lori deserved better, and so did Dawn.
Lori squared her shoulders and marched up the steps and into the community center.
As she’d anticipated, conversations nearby stopped. People turned and stared. One or two women might have even pointed and whispered behind their hands to one another.
It hurt, but Lori was stronger than this. She wasn’t going to let Heidi or anyone else break her. She caught Heidi staring at her and met her gaze, level and calm.
Lori Keyes was not a murderer, and she would not be intimidated into giving up her dream — or letting Dawn’s murderer get away.
Lori settled into a chair near the front, her chin held high. Andrea Hopkins slid into the seat next to her.
Lori gave her a smile of gratitude. “I have some guests who might come by the museum today.”
Andrea’s face lit up. “Thanks!”
“They’ve got two kids, a boy and a girl, elementary-aged.”
The other woman nodded, her gaze wandering away. Apparently, she was already planning the activities. Dusky Cove might not have a prominent history, but what it did have was long enough that there had to be activities fun enough to capture kids’ imaginations. Maybe something with pirates? Surely Cape Fear had hosted its share of swashbucklers.
“Thanks again,” Andrea whispered as Heidi stepped to the lectern.
Heidi called the meeting to order, and the other business owners drifted to their seats. She proceeded through the usual minutiae that filled the agenda each week, planning the tourist season, themed weeks, the town summer festivals.
It had b
een useful the first three times Lori had heard it, but she could probably give the spiel as well as Heidi could by now.
Heidi marched onward, plowing through the items on the list with her usual ruthless efficiency. Finally, she looked up from her list and her gaze swept the audience, landing on Lori, icy cold.
“One more thing,” Heidi said, “a point of order.”
A few people shifted in their seats, metal creaking against metal.
“It’s come to my attention that we’ve had some real . . . legal issues in town lately.”
She said it as though she’d only just realized Dawn had been murdered, and like everyone else here didn’t know yet. Lori managed not to look away, returning Heidi’s chilly glare.
“I think it’s time we amend the bylaws.”
That got attention. More creaking and shifting, this time forming a chorus with a few scattered groans.
“Heidi, we ain’t got time for that!” called a man from the back. “We open in fifteen minutes!”
A couple “yeahs” corroborated, but Heidi held up her hands. “I know, I know, we’ve all got businesses to run today. But I would be remiss as vice president if I didn’t at least propose a measure that we not let convicted felons into the association.”
Now the current of a murmur swept through the crowd faster than the Cape Fear flowed by outside. Lori’s cheeks burned. She wasn’t a convicted felon yet, and if she was, kicking her out of the DCBOA would be moot.
This was all a power play to embarrass her, maybe even try to seal the frame-up job. Lori wouldn’t stand for it.
“Now, listen,” Heidi began. “Dusky Cove is a tourist town. It’s our main industry, and without it, we’ll dry up like Brunswick Town.”
They were hardly in danger of ending up like the ruins of the colonial settlement up the road. The murmur in the room began to settle. With a shadow of a smile like a shark catching the scent of blood, Heidi launched into the real offensive. “Dusky Cove has to be safe for families, or we’ll lose the largest single segment of our market. And what family would want to stay with someone who’d murdered a guest or a tourist?”