Tide and Punishment

by Bree Baker

  I hurried in their direction, beginning to babble before I caught sight of them. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been going crazy since I spoke with Gra—”

  I slammed my mouth shut at the sight of the woman before me. The bells hadn’t announced my aunts. They’d welcomed Senator Olivia Denver. I’d only seen her in online photos and news articles, but I’d recognize her anywhere. Auburn hair. Piercing blue eyes. The expression and posture of someone who could break a person with their words, their bare hands, or their stare. I didn’t let the black designer pantsuit, heels, or handbag fool me. There was a soldier beneath that fancy facade.

  “Pardon me,” I said, regaining myself and forcing a congenial expression. Immediately on edge. “I’m expecting my great-aunts for dinner, and I was certain you were them.”

  She looked me over, head to toe, with the same blank expression Grady used to evaluate criminals. “Are you open?” she asked, lifting one gloved finger to point at the door behind her. “The sign said to come inside.”

  “Yes. Of course.” I hopped into action, turning back in the direction I’d come. “Right this way.” I led her across the foyer and into the café. “Welcome to Sun, Sand, and Tea. Today’s menu is on the blackboard.” I slid behind the counter to put some space between us and hoped to look professional while I hid. “I keep twenty iced tea selections on tap. Every recipe I make here has been passed down through my family’s cookbooks, but I put a personal twist on most.” I bit the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from talking. I was acting strangely. Saying too much. Why am I so nervous? I knew the answer immediately. I’d seen the way Grady avoided her, dodged her calls, groaned at the mention of her name. If she made him uncomfortable, then I was in big trouble. “Can I pour you a glass of tea while you decide on something to eat?”

  Senator Denver watched me with the tolerant curiosity of someone forced to attend a play they hadn’t particularly wanted to see. She approached slowly, taking in the details of the room before folding her long black coat over a chair and setting her bag on the counter. “Apple cinnamon, please.”

  I grabbed a jar and filled it with ice while she selected a stool. “Are you enjoying the weather?”

  “No.”

  “Been out shopping?” I asked, setting the jar beneath her chosen dispenser. “Enjoying your visit?”

  She tipped her head slightly as I passed her the tea. “I’m sorry, are you pretending not to know me?”

  “Have we met?” I asked, suddenly fearful I’d somehow forgotten having experienced this unnerving exchange before.

  “No.” She turned the jar in her hands, locking me in her careful stare. “But I’m sure you know me, and I know you, Everly Swan.”

  I went rigid at the sound of my name on her sharp tongue.

  “Twenty-nine years old,” she went on. “Born and raised in Charm by your grandmother after the loss of your parents. You left the island to attend culinary school in Lexington and travel with a rodeo cowboy, but returned to Charm early this year following a breakup and the loss of your grandmother. My condolences on all your losses.” She lifted the tea for a small sip, then nodded. “This is very good.”

  I tried to look less shell-shocked than I felt. “How do you know all of that about me?” I asked. Had she used her government connections to hack into my computer? The thought struck a new horror through me. Did she read my emails? My saved files? Know the things I searched for?

  Because I had absolutely searched for her.

  Senator Olivia Denver wasn’t like most politicians. She’d retired from the military at forty-two before landing in politics and rising with unprecedented speed to the top. She’d met her husband while he was under her command in Germany. They’d had one child, Grady’s late wife, Amy, while they were both still in the service. Mr. Denver had taken a position with the CIA following his time in the armed forces, and after a couple decades doing whatever CIA operatives do, he went missing from Langley shortly after Amy’s death. The speculation surrounding his disappearance was dramatic and varied. Most suspected suicide. They assumed he’d been unable to deal with the loss of his only daughter to cancer and had offed himself. Others suspected he’d been abducted or simply hadn’t returned from a secret mission. There were no real answers, and I didn’t have a guess, but as far as I could tell, there had never been a funeral.

  Senator Denver narrowed her arresting blue eyes slightly. “It’s my business to know who my son-in-law is involved with,” she said flatly.

  My hackles rose instantly. I wasn’t involved with anyone, and if I was, it wouldn’t be any of her business. I took sudden offense to the air of superiority she wore like a crown, the way she looked at me as if I was something to be studied, and the way she made me feel like a child called to the principal’s office. I wanted to bite back, but I suspected that was what she wanted as well. I decided to go with sweet southern ignorance instead and allowed my natural drawl to hang thick over every word. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  A genuine look of amusement passed over her features before she tamped it down tight. “Cute, but you’re much too clever for that act,” she said. “I know you ranked at the top of your graduating high school class and were set to do the same in college until circumstances changed your path. You have a lifelong history of excelling at anything you’ve tried, and it’s followed you into business. You’ve earned equestrian awards for dressage and show jumping. Became a certified lifeguard before you could drive. And you have been a major player in the capture of two murderers in the past eight months. All before your thirtieth birthday.”

  I forced my sticky tongue off the roof of my uncomfortably dry mouth. “I’ve been fortunate.”

  “Some might say blessed.”

  I snorted at that, the tension instantly blown away. “Not many,” I said with a sly grin. In fact, most would have used another word to describe me or any Swan woman. The senator’s mistake was a welcomed reminder. She hadn’t found the story of my life written somewhere and studied it. She did some research and guessed the rest. Poorly. Like an ordinary human and not some superior political goddess. I smiled warmly. “Can I get you something to eat? Have you had dinner?”

  “And you’re unflappable,” she said. “I’ll add that to my list.”

  “Great.” I smiled wider. “How about a sampler platter on the house?” I asked. “You’re clearly having some kind of day.”

  When she didn’t protest, I got to work. I prepped and plated a trio of baked-ham-and-cheese pinwheels in minutes, then arranged a small caprese salad to the side. “Try these and let me know if you can add ‘darn good chef’ to that list of accomplishments.”

  Her lips twitched, possibly fighting a smile, and she reached for a pinwheel.

  I turned to set up a plate of cookies and chunked fudge. When I turned back, the pinwheels were nearly gone, and so was the tea.

  She dusted a napkin across her thin lips. “There were no groceries at my house when I arrived today. I’ve had staff setting everything up so I could move in and get on with my life, and no one thought to stock the kitchen.”

  I refilled her empty tea jar and returned it. “Molly’s Market is a great place to pick up food staples and anything else you need to get by on the daily. Mr. and Mrs. Waters named the business after their daughter. They’re a very nice family and a great resource for information on Charm. So, if you’re ever out and have a question, Molly’s is a great place to stop.”

  “I will. Thank you.” The senator sipped her tea and let her lids flutter softly. “Very. Very. Good.”

  My heart kicked and jumped at the compliment, sending a rush of heat to my cheeks. I was a shameless sucker for applause, especially when it came in the kitchen. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Senator Denver pursed her lips as she pressed the tines of her fork into the caprese salad. “My grandson wasn’t home, or I’d be having dinne
r with him. Apparently, his au pair took him to the Wright Brothers First Flight Celebration in Kitty Hawk instead of waiting to see me on my first night in town.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, noting the hurt in her voice. I’d completely forgotten that event was tonight. Grady had told me how excited Denver was to show him the flyer last week. “He’s going to be a junior ranger today,” I said. “He was really looking forward to it, and I’m sure they won’t be late. Maybe you can catch them for dessert.” I clasped my hands before me to keep myself from grabbing my phone to check Denise’s Instagram.

  Senator Denver slid a bite of basil, mozzarella, and tomato between her lips and watched me as she chewed.

  “If you like it,” I said, fumbling to fill the silence once again, “I can send some home with you for tomorrow. I’m not open for breakfast, but I’ll be here again at lunchtime if you haven’t had a chance to make it to the market by then.”

  She dotted her lips with a napkin, not responding to my offer. “What do you know about my grandson and his au pair?”

  I considered her question for a moment, unsure how to answer without giving away too much. “I know she’s really good with Denver.”

  The senator sat impossibly taller. “She should be. She was fully vetted and handpicked from more than thirty viable applicants, by me. Denise is more than qualified to rear, nurture, educate, and protect my grandson.” She forked another bit of salad and paused, letting it hover over her plate. “She’s fully capable of meeting all of their needs.”

  I didn’t like the way she’d let the words all and their linger on her tongue, as if Denise was somehow intended to fill in for Amy’s absence in Grady’s life as well. I felt the corners of my mouth pull down. My gaze snapped to meet the senator’s. She had meant exactly that. Ew. Did Denise know how far the parameters of her job description were meant to stretch? Did Grady? Had she ever filled that role for him?

  The senator smiled. “It’s interesting that you’re willing to admit you know my grandson and his au pair, but you lie about knowing my son-in-law. Why would you do that?”

  I pulled my shoulders back and pushed a curious smile into place. “I never said I didn’t know him.” She’d accused me of being involved with Grady. I’d told her I didn’t know what she meant, and I still didn’t. It was strange that she’s even suggested Grady was involved with me when he lived with the equivalent of a tall, blond underwear model whose literal job was to meet his every need.

  My stomach knotted, and my chest tightened. Where were my aunts?

  Just then, the seashell wind chimes and jingle bells sounded. The familiar trill and flutter of my great-aunts’ voices and laughter were balm to my jagged nerves and panging heart. I hurried to greet them in the foyer before they could be caught in a conversation unintended for my guest’s ears.

  “Hello!” I hugged them one by one and kissed their cheeks.

  They each fell back in confusion, clearly hearing the distress in my voice, or perhaps seeing the intense crazy on my face. “I’m so glad you came. Dinner’s almost ready. I just have one guest left in the café.” I made exaggerated pointing motions and repeated wide-eyed looks at the wall between us and Senator Denver. “I’ll get the tea.”

  Aunt Clara and Aunt Fran exchanged a peculiar look.

  “Tea sounds lovely,” Aunt Clara said.

  Aunt Fran motioned me onward.

  I ducked back into place behind the counter and watched with bated breath as my aunts homed in on the senator. I swapped her newly emptied plate for one with a selection of sweets.

  Aunt Fran was the first to speak. “Well, hello there,” she said with a cautious smile. Her gaze darted pointedly over Senator Denver’s nearly empty plate and tea jar. “How did our great-niece do on the tea and salad?”

  Senator Denver extended a hand. “Everything was top notch, as expected. I’m Olivia Denver. It’s lovely to meet the aunts of such a talented young woman.”

  Aunt Clara nearly floated from pleasure at the senator’s praises.

  Aunt Fran accepted the handshake. “I’m Fran Swan, and this is my sister Clara.”

  “Wonderful to meet you,” Aunt Clara cooed.

  The senator smiled. “Well, Fran Swan, I suppose we’ll be getting to know one another very well soon.”

  Aunt Fran hiked a brow and cast a glance at me. “Is that right?”

  Heat rushed across my cheeks once more. “This is Senator Olivia Denver. Detective Hays’s mother-in-law and Denver’s grandma.”

  Aunt Fran whipped her face back in my guest’s direction, confusion plainly evident. “And why will we be getting to know one another?”

  Senator Denver’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. Her gaze flickered in my direction before landing back on Fran. I hadn’t told Fran about her intended run for mayor, and she knew it.

  I checked the exits, deciding if I could make it past Aunt Fran if I tried, or if it would be best to jump off the balcony.

  “I believe I’m one of your competitors in the upcoming mayoral race,” Senator Denver said jovially, “assuming my son-in-law doesn’t put you in jail.”

  I sucked air, and my aunts gaped.

  Senator Denver barked out a laugh. “Kidding,” she said. “Of course I know you’re innocent, and Grady’s too good at his job to make a mistake of that magnitude.”

  Aunt Fran swallowed long and slow. “Of course.”

  Aunt Clara looked like she’d been struck with a stick.

  “Wait.” Aunt Fran’s expression morphed slowly from shock into a deep frown. “Did you say you’re planning to run for mayor? Since when?” Her voice hitched in disbelief. “You don’t even live here.” She turned her confused expression on me. “She doesn’t live here.”

  I lifted a palm and grimaced. It seemed there was more I hadn’t told her. “Senator Denver bought the Northrop Manor.”

  Aunt Clara’s mouth fell open. “Heavens.”

  Aunt Fran scowled at me before retuning her gaze to the senator. “Well, welcome to Charm,” she deadpanned.

  “Thanks.” Senator Denver lifted her tea and finished it off. “It’s an interesting place.”

  Aunt Clara cleared her throat and smiled, eager to dissipate the tension. “We’re big fans of your son-in-law. He’s been great for our town, and he’s saved our Everly’s life. More than once,” she added with a droop of her lips. “They’ve become quite close.”

  The oven dinged, and I spun away to tend to it, wishing I’d locked the door a few minutes sooner and turned off the café lights until my aunts arrived.

  “I’ve heard,” Senator Denver said. “The au pair likes her, though I hear she’s a handful.”

  Electricity charged the air, and I peeked over my shoulder at the pair of women facing off behind me.

  “Darn right,” Aunt Fran said, narrowing her eyes on the senator. “Everly’s a pistol.”

  I smiled at the beam of pride that burst over her face as she spoke.

  The senator nodded. “I can see where she gets it.”

  “Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Aunt Fran said with a wicked smile.

  Senator Denver barked a laugh.

  Suddenly, the tension and uncertainty I’d felt upon their meeting was strangely comfortable, as if each crabby old lady had found a part of her tribe.

  Aunt Clara hummed her way behind the counter and poured two jars of tea. “Can I get you a refill, Senator Denver?”

  “No, thank you,” the senator said. “Please, call me Olivia.” She opened her purse and set a twenty beside her plate. “Everything was delicious, Everly.”

  My mouth opened, but no words came out.

  She slid on her coat and tied the belt at her waist, then extended her hand to Aunt Fran once more. “I like you,” she said, a mix of surprise and contentment in her careful eyes.

 
“Who wouldn’t?” Fran wondered.

  The dearly departed Mayor Dunfree came to mind, but I kept that to myself.

  Fran gave their joined hands a firm pump. “I like you too. Shame we’re going to be competing against each other soon.”

  “I wouldn’t call what happens in November a competition,” Senator Denver stated matter-of-factly. “Annihilation or devastation maybe. No one would blame you if you backed out now.”

  Aunt Clara sighed as the tension crackled once more. “Great. Now there are two of them,” she whispered in my direction.

  I set the steaming potpie on the nearest table, then waved an oven mitt. “I know you’ve just had a bite, Senator, but you’re welcome to stay for dinner. Finish your desserts. Get to know my aunts.” I waited for her to tell me to call her Olivia like she’d told my aunts to do.

  She didn’t.

  Aunt Clara clasped her palms. “Won’t you?”

  “I’m afraid not, but I’d love to take these sweets to Denver, if you don’t mind.” Senator Denver lifted the little plate of cookies and fudge I’d set for her. “Maybe you’re right and I can catch him once he’s finished being a junior ranger.”

  “Of course.” I tucked my oven mitts under one arm and went hunting for a pastry transport. I pulled out a small white bag and then settled the treats inside. “Don’t be a stranger,” I said, handing her the bag and returning her twenty. “On the house. Welcome to Charm from Sun, Sand, and Tea.”

  An accepting smile budded on her lips, but before I could pass her the items, a thunderous crash exploded on my porch.

  I screamed.

  Fran and Clara reached for one another.

  Senator Denver produced a handgun from somewhere beneath her stylish coat and headed toward the front door, all in the space of a heartbeat. She moved silently, confidently, exactly like the well-trained general she’d once been.

  “Holy cow!” I yipped, snapping out of my stupor and flying from behind the counter to follow her. “She has a gun!” I told my aunts, who were busy impersonating wide-eyed statues. “She can’t have a gun in here!” I ran after the senator. “No guns!”