The Eleventh Hour

by Anina Collins

  Like a weight on my shoulders pushing them down, the memory of him lying there and still looking up at his brother in surprise that he’d actually had the strength to shoot him stayed fixed in my mind. I imagined it would for a long time.

  So much of this case had been life changing. Dominick lost his life. Derek lost his brother. Alicia lost her life. I still felt to blame for that. I always would.

  Other changes had happened too. For the first time since my mother died, I’d had to face death. And like with my mother, I still hated it. I hated it for how terrified it made me. I hated it for how weak it made me feel. But most of all, I hated how I couldn’t control anything about it. Watching Dominick die had proven that to me.

  Then there was the biggest change of all. Alex. In such a short time, I’d grown closer to him than I had to anyone ever in my life other than my parents. When I saw that gun pointed at his head, a mix of feelings rushed over me. I was angry and scared Dominick might kill him, but there were other emotions coursing through me too.

  Genuine sadness at the possibility that he might not be in my life anymore. A desire to save him like he’d been so willing to do for me.

  Did I care for him more than a friend and partner? I closed my eyes as the question tumbled around in my brain. I didn’t know the answer. All I knew was the mere thought of losing him had affected me so much that I doubted I’d have been able to handle it if it was him lying there in a pool of blood dying in front of me instead of Dominick.

  There were a million reasons for me not to feel more than friendship for him. At the very top of the list was the real fact he was in love with a ghost. I didn’t know the whole story about his late wife, but Dominick had mentioned it as a reason why people would believe our deaths could be attributed to a murder-suicide so I had to believe I wasn’t wrong about him still being in love with her all these years later.

  Alex had alluded to how he’d retreated from the world when he came to Sunset Ridge when he first offered to help me on Geneva’s case. Return to the land of the living was how he put it. Had he hidden away for all those years since his wife died?

  Even more, was he anywhere near ready to actually be anyone but the man who lost her?

  As I sat there curled up with my favorite blanket, my knees pulled up to my chest as I had for much of the last three days, I didn’t know what I should feel about him. I’d never met any man like him. That I knew. He saw things I worried I’d never see, no matter how much time I spent around him. Whatever he had that made him see them, I wanted to learn that.

  More than admiration for his detective skills, though, did I feel something else for him even I didn’t want to admit?

  Just as important, did he feel anything for me? I didn’t know. He’d never shown he felt much of anything for anyone, but that was who he was. That was Alex. Did his stony exterior hide feelings that had grown inside him for me? Was he even capable of that since he still mourned his wife?

  Thinking about all of this made me less sure than ever about my life. I’d never truly known what my path was. For so long, I’d been asking questions, first about why my mother had to die and then about the behavior of the famous people I researched. Was my true calling working with Alex solving crimes?

  I had no inkling if he even wanted to continue doing that with me. We hadn’t spoken since he followed me home that night to make sure I was okay. Driving right behind me all the way here, he walked with me to my door and came in to check everything was as it should be because he said I looked shaken up.

  Then he told me if I needed anything I should call him and left. Part of me felt selfish for not offering him the same thing. He’d shot a man, and even though it hadn’t been Alex’s bullet that killed Dominick, he must have felt something about it. The problem was I didn’t know what to say. I was too confused and sad.

  So I didn’t offer, even though later I wondered if I should call him and do just that. I didn’t. Unlike most times in my life, I feared saying the wrong thing, so I said nothing.

  I grabbed my phone off the side table next to my chair and checked for any messages from him, but there were none. All I saw were the handful from Bethany asking if I needed anything and to let her know when I wanted to talk and the one from my boss at The Bottom Line letting me know as much as he hated to do it, he had to fire me for not getting my piece completed on time days ago.

  A tiny part of me regretted letting him down but not enough to make me plead for my job back. I felt bad disappointing him because he’d been a great boss and had given me a chance at my first real investigative reporter job, and for that, I’d always be thankful.

  It just felt like it was time to leave that part of my life, though.

  Not since my mother died had I felt at such loose ends. I didn’t answer Bethany because I didn’t know what I needed. One minute I wanted to run away from Sunset Ridge and never look back, and then the next minute I couldn’t imagine leaving my house and the security it promised.

  My phone rang with the day’s fourth call from my father. Answering it, I said, “Hi, Dad. What’s new?”

  “I just wanted to check on you, Poppy. How are you doing?”

  I couldn’t help but smile at his question. That was the twelfth time he’d asked me that since that night, and I had the distinct feeling my answer every time was a bit lacking.

  “I’m fine, Dad. How are you?”

  “Will you be coming to the bar tonight? I can make my world famous beef stew I know you always love and we can sit and talk.”

  I wished I could say yes. I knew it would make him feel better if I did, but I just wasn’t ready to leave this room and this comfy chair yet. “Not tonight, Dad. Maybe tomorrow.”

  He remained silent, likely disappointed by my turning him down again, and then asked as he had all those times before, “Is there anything you need, sweetheart? I’m just a phone call away. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t, Dad. I don’t need anything right now, but thanks. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay. Poppy, remember I’m here if you need to talk.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  I pressed END and let the phone drop into the blanket. I truly wished I knew what to say to him to explain that I wasn’t depressed or anything like that. I didn’t know what I was, to be honest. Mostly, I just felt lost. I didn’t know if that was from seeing someone die again like I had with my mother or if it was something altogether different.

  All I knew was there wasn’t anywhere else in the world I wanted to be at that moment than right there under a blanket in my living room chair with the puffy cushions that enveloped me every time I sat down.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there with my eyes closed, unsuccessfully trying to push the memory of Dominick dead at my feet out of my brain. When I finally opened them to see who was knocking at my door, it was already dark out and I’d spent another entire day curled up in my living room.

  The knocking became more insistent, so I trudged off to answer the door, not even caring that I was still wearing my Scottie dog black and red pajamas I’d worn for days. I didn’t exactly look like I should to entertain guests, but it wasn’t like I’d invited whoever it was who kept knocking.

  I threw the door open and there stood Alex. Whatever he was feeling about Dominick’s death, it didn’t show on the outside. Dressed in jeans and a black sweater, he looked the picture of happiness.

  Well, as much as he ever did.

  His eyes scanned me from head to toe and then his gaze settled on my face, which was unwashed for the day and without a stitch of makeup.

  “Can I come in?”

  Nodding, I stepped back to let him into my kitchen. “Sure. Come on in.”

  I closed the door and turned to see him standing there awkwardly in the center of the room, as if he had come by to talk about something uncomfortable. Or maybe it was just his reaction to seeing me like this.

  “I wanted to check to make sure
you’re okay,” he said in a gentle tone like social workers use on people so they don’t upset them.

  “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.” I brushed past him on my way to the refrigerator and asked, “Would you like something to drink? I think the milk might still be good, and there’s always diet soda in here.”

  I didn’t know why, but as I stared in my nearly empty refrigerator, the tears began to well up in my eyes. Diet soda and milk being my only beverage choices really was no reason to begin sobbing like a baby, so I willed the tears away before I turned around to see him staring at me.

  “Poppy, it’s okay to be upset about what happened.”

  Waving him off, I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not upset. I’m okay. Neither of those drinks sound any good?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “No, thanks. Have you been here in your house for the last three days?”

  I poured myself a glass of milk and took a big gulp. “Yeah. How about you?”

  “I’m worried about you, Poppy. You weren’t ready to see someone die right in front of you.”

  The concern in his deep brown eyes triggered something inside me, and I felt the tears begin again. Looking away, I tried to brush off his worry. “I’ve seen people die before, Alex. I saw my mother die, so it’s nothing new to me.”

  I swallowed hard and willed the tears to go the hell away again, but they were stronger than I was this time and they came with a vengeance. Turning my back to him, I so wished I didn’t look so weak and pathetic, but it was no use.

  That’s what I was. Not much of a hard-nosed detective like him, was I?

  He put his arms around me and pulled me into him as I sobbed like a baby over Dominick. Over Alicia. Over my mother too. I let it all out right there in my kitchen as Alex held me through the sobs and shudders, all the while saying nothing and just hugging me to him.

  For nearly ten minutes, we stood like that, him helping me get through what we’d experienced and me unable to do much else than let it all out, as my father always said would make me feel better. It did, and when my tears had stopped, I wiped under my eyes and stepped back to look up at Alex waiting to see if I needed him again just in case the waterworks started once more.

  “Thanks. I guess I needed that. Not much of a detective, am I?”

  He gave me one of those slowly spreading smiles that reached all the way up to his eyes. “I think you have great instincts. You know that, though.”

  Sniffling, I joked, “That you think that or that I have them?”

  “Both. Are you going to be okay?”

  For the first time in three days, I could honestly answer yes. “I’m going to be fine. Thanks for the shoulder to cry on. Well, I guess it would be more correct to say chest to cry on.”

  “Anytime. Whatever body part you want to cry on.”

  I felt my cheeks flush with heat and knew I was blushing at his completely innocent comment. Embarrassed, I turned away to take another drink of milk so he wouldn’t see my reaction.

  “Well, I have to go. I have a meeting with Derek about some things.”

  I spun around. “You mean about the case?”

  “Sort of. A few loose ends to tie up since the shooting did happen at my house. Nothing you have to worry about, though. Everything’s solved, so it’s all wrapped up.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I had to admit that now that I’d let out all those emotions I’d kept inside for the past few days, the idea of working on something cheered me up and hearing there was nothing else to do with the Geneva case disappointed me a little.

  “Meet me at The Grounds tomorrow at nine like always?” he asked as he moved toward the door to leave.

  “Sure, but you just said there’s nothing more to do with the case.”

  He nodded and smiled again. “True, but we’re more than just that case, aren’t we? Friends and partners, right?”

  “Right. Okay, I’ll be there at nine.”

  “See you tomorrow, Poppy.”

  As I watched the door close behind him, I suddenly had a hunger for beef stew as only my father could make it. Trotting back to my phone, I called him and without even saying hello, I asked, “Is that offer for your world famous stew still open? I think I’m feeling up to it now.”

  “Of course! What changed your mind?” he asked, always curious about me.

  “Just talked to a friend. That’s all. See you in an hour, okay, Dad?”

  “See you in an hour, Poppy.”

  At five minutes before nine the next morning, I took my seat at the back of The Grounds and waited for Alex. I’d spent a wonderful night with my father enjoying his beef stew and talking about a lot of things, especially my mother, and now I wanted to have a much needed coffee with my friend and partner. I fully intended on listening closely when he ordered his coffee so I knew how he took his morning drink like he knew mine. I had a lot to learn about investigating, and that was the first step I wanted to take.

  The crowd at The Grounds filled up the shop quickly, so seeing the front door became impossible after just a few minutes. Sure he’d know to come to our usual seat, I scrolled through messages on my phone, deleting the ones from my former job at The Bottom Line.

  “Dark roast the Poppy McGuire way, two sugars and extra cream,” he said as he set our two cups down.

  Deleting one last message, I said, “Oh, I wanted to hear how you get yours so I could know for the future.”

  I looked up from my phone and felt my eyes grow as wide as saucers. Standing there next to the table was Alex dressed in a navy blue Sunset Ridge policeman’s uniform. It made him look bigger than he usually looked, and the color made his dark hair and eyes stand out like I’d never seen them before.

  The effect was nothing less than stunning.

  “What’s…what’s this?”

  With a smile, he said as he sat down across from me, “This was what I had to go see Derek about last night. Since Dominick’s death, the council made him chief, so Sunset Ridge needed a new officer. I guess my past experience was good enough because they offered me the job two days ago. Last night, I agreed to become the newest officer on the Sunset Ridge police force.”

  “I love it! I think you’re going to be great, of course.”

  “I only said yes after they agreed to my one demand,” he said with a sly grin.

  “Better pay? I imagine they offered you peanuts, right? You have to shake these local guys down. A former Baltimore police detective doesn’t come cheap, and they should know that.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “That wasn’t my demand. I agreed to join the force only if they agreed that you would be working with me from now on.”

  My mouth dropped open as I sat there in shock. “Me? You want to keep working with me?”

  “It’s not every day I meet someone with such good instincts who knows the lay of the land, Poppy. Are you willing to keep solving crimes with me?”

  Still stunned, I answered without even thinking. “Of course! I’m just so surprised.”

  “Derek said yes as soon as I mentioned it to him,” he explained. He took a sip of his coffee and added, “But considering how much he likes you I knew he would.”

  “I’m just surprised you wanted to.”

  “It was my only demand. You’re right, though. The pay is pretty bad. Thankfully, I have my pension from being a detective or I wouldn’t be able to afford coffee and danish every morning.”

  I stood from the table to head up to the counter. “This is a celebration, so today’s is my treat. Cherry or cheese?”

  “Cherry sounds good.”

  Grinning from ear to ear at seeing him sitting there dressed like that and now my official partner, I said, “Two cherries it is.”

  After fielding twenty questions from Jennie and three women in line about who the very handsome police officer was sitting with me, I returned to our table and gave him his celebratory cherry danish. Lifting my coffee cup, I said, “To Alex Montero, the n
ewest Sunset Ridge Police officer and my partner. Congratulations!”

  As was his style, he smiled and nodded, but he said nothing before biting into his danish. I truly felt happier than I’d been in a long time. Alex had a new job that would keep him in the land of the living, and I had a new purpose.

  “By the way, it’s just regular coffee with two sugars and one cream,” he said as he put his fork down after finishing his food.

  “The way you take your coffee?”

  “Yeah. I bet you thought it would be something far more exciting, but it’s like everyone takes it. Sometimes when I really need the jolt from caffeine, I take it black. Pretty average.”

  I looked across the table and couldn’t imagine Alex Montero ever being considered anything like average. I’d seen run-of-the-mill all my life in Sunset Ridge, and I knew he was nothing like anyone I’d ever met before.

  “So are you ready for our next case?” he asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

  “I’m more than ready. Lead the way!”

  Poppy and Alex return in After Hours:

  A Poppy McGuire Mystery (Poppy McGuire Mysteries #2)

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  About The Author

  Anina Collins has always loved a good mystery. From Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s famous detective Sherlock Holmes to Dan Brown’s intrepid Professor Robert Langdon, she’s spent some of her favorite reading times with mystery novels. When she’s not writing her favorite mystery couple, she can be found watching entirely too much Supernatural and dreaming about the beach.

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