Stalked in Paradise

by Charley Marsh

  “I think we covered it,” Payson Douglas replied, and drove off.

  Chapter Eleven

  At seven o’clock precisely, Alex stood on Mermaid Cottage’s front stoop with two pizza carriers, frowning at the doorbell. He shifted his feet, stepped back, stepped forward, and silently cursed himself.

  He had no business being there. Eating pizza with Harriet while he learned more about the victim had seemed like a good idea earlier. Now not so much. And that was because he’d learned something that put her right back in the line-up of potential killers.

  But no matter how much he had argued with himself, he’d been unable to bring himself to contact her and cancel dinner.

  And here he was, holding two rapidly cooling pizzas. Time to man up.

  “You’re a fool, Alex,” he muttered, then jabbed his finger on the bell. A soft chime sounded inside the cottage and a minute later Harriet opened the door.

  He took one look at her face and knew she’d been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy and delicate blue shadows had developed underneath them since he’d seen her earlier. Her honey-colored hair looked windblown and her skin had paled, highlighting the sprinkle of freckles on her nose.

  Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t the woman standing before him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he pushed past her and headed for the kitchen. She didn’t answer, but he knew she followed him as he set the pizza carriers on the counter.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded, turning around to face her.

  Harriet just shook her head and pulled a bottle of white wine from the chiller. She poured two glasses without asking and headed him one.

  He would rather have had a brew with the pizza but he took the wine without comment.

  “I’m not sure I can eat,” she said finally, looking down at the pizza carriers.

  Alex rubbed his forehead. The sight of Harriet so obviously distressed hit him in the gut and he didn’t like that one little bit. He needed to remain remote, unaffected. He needed distance from this woman who happened to be his prime suspect.

  “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you.” And there was the root of his problem, he realized. He wanted to help Harriet Monroe, not nail her for conspiracy to murder.

  The pizza could wait.

  “Let’s go sit on the deck and you can tell me what’s troubling you.” He grabbed the wineglass from her hand along with his own and headed through the living room and out to the lanai where he set them on a small table cut from a log.

  “Sit.” Alex took the second chair and pulled it closer to the one Harriet took. “Now tell me what happened,” he ordered.

  Harriet shook her head. She had tried to shake the sense of impending doom during her beach walk but it kept returning like the waves on the beach, eroding her confidence until she had convinced herself that she’d failed as PR Director before she’d even begun.

  She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the cooler evening breeze. The palm fronds made their now familiar rattle. A night blooming flower perfumed the air.

  Memories. She needed to cement these pleasant memories in her mind so she could take them out when she was stuck shivering in Maine’s cold and snowy winters.

  “Harriet, talk to me.” Alex’s voice sounded soft and low yet demanding.

  “Cassie came to talk to me today after I met with you,” Harriet began. She took a sip of wine to loosen the tightness in her throat.

  “She warned me that if word of the murder got out people would cancel their reservations. I came up with an idea that I thought might lessen the impact of the murder–I thought we could bring back the murder mystery dinner theatre that was so popular in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries.

  “I thought that–maybe–people would roll the real murder together with the dinner theatre murders and Bradley’s death would fade away from the public’s memory.”

  “I’ve never heard of dinner theatre. Can you explain it to me?” Alex relaxed a little when he saw some animation come back into Harriet’s expression as she described her idea.

  “That sounds brilliant,” he told her when she had finished. “Are you going to do it?”

  Harriet shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.” She didn’t tell him that she’d called Lana with the idea and had been shut down flat. Lana had told her that it would be too much extra work for the waitstaff and hung up on her.

  “Besides,” she continued, “I’m afraid that it’s already too late. The fallout began this afternoon. Cassie’s assistant called as she was leaving my office to let her know the cancellations are starting to roll in. I’m sure Mr. Wade will be giving me my walking papers soon. After all, if it wasn’t for me Bradley wouldn’t have been murdered here.”

  She picked up her wine and took a big gulp. It tasted tart and cold. A second gulp eased a little of the tightness in her chest. She took a third gulp and felt even better. Maybe she should get drunk tonight. Deal with her problems tomorrow.

  “So, how did you get on with solving Bradley’s murder?” she asked when she realized Alex was watching her. He probably wondered if she was a lush.

  “Why don’t we talk while we eat? I’m famished.” Alex stood and took Harriet’s hand. He pulled her to her feet, waited for her to grab her glass, and led her back to the kitchen.

  In the soft glow of the under-cabinet lights he could see that some color had returned to Harriet’s face. He opened cabinets and drawers until he found plates and utensils and placed them on the counter.

  “I brought a veggie pizza with olives, onions, and mushrooms and a meat pizza with ham and pineapple. Which do you want? Or you can have both.”

  Harriet didn’t care for the doctored soy protein that was sold as meat. “Veggie please.” She sat at the counter next to Alex, suddenly hungry.

  “So tell me, how did Bradley die? Was he . . . was he hung? God, I hope not. I hope it was painless.” Not sure she could eat without choking, Harriet set down the slice of pizza she had been about to bite into. “Was he hung?”

  “No. He was already dead when he was left in the greenhouse. Someone strangled him.”

  Harriet frowned. “Strangled? Poor Bradley. Was he hung in the vine to make it look like a suicide then?”

  Alex waited to answer until he’d eaten a whole slice of the ham and pineapple. One benefit of taking the position of security director for the resort was that Mr. Wade made real meat available to staff as well as guests.

  “They might have. It’s hard to say.” He grabbed another slice, put it on his plate. “If the killer was trying to make it look like a suicide it was an amateur job. There are distinct finger mark bruises on the victim’s neck.”

  He saw the color wash from Harriet’s face again and cursed himself. He was used to dealing with the ugly details of death. Harriet was not.

  “There’s no sign that he struggled, Harriet, and Bradley Higgins was in good physical condition. I’m guessing he was drugged first and would’ve been unaware of what was happening, but I’m waiting for the bloodwork results to confirm that theory.”

  He waited until she picked up her pizza and took a small bite before continuing. “I found a program hidden on your pc that forwarded copies of all your emails, both incoming and outgoing, to another computer. I’m guessing they went to Bradley’s and that’s how he knew you took the job here.”

  He saw the shock in her eyes and sympathized. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

  Harriet gave her head a shake and looked blindly down at her plate. “It’s nothing to do with you so you have no reason to be sorry.”

  “I’m sorry because I can see that Bradley neither treated you right nor trusted you. That has to hurt when it’s someone you love.”

  Harriet looked at him then, her silver-blue eyes sad. “He had good reason not to trust me. I was leaving him wasn’t I?”

  “That still didn’t give him the right to audit your correspondence,” Alex replied mildly. �
�Everyone is entitled to their privacy.”

  He finished the second slice, wiped his fingers, and debated trying the veggie pizza. Nah, he decided, stick with the meat, and grabbed another slice.

  “The most likely reason for Bradley to come to the Island Resort was to confront you, Harriet. I can find no connection with anyone else on the island. He arrived the day before you did. I can track him as far as the island’s shuttle-port. After that no one claims to have seen him.”

  The news about Bradley monitoring her emails both angered and saddened Harriet. She wished her ex was still alive so she could fling the pc he’d gifted her in his face and tell him what she thought of him and his invasion of her privacy.

  She now saw how lame her attempts to mask her destination had been. If he hadn’t been murdered she never would’ve gotten away from Bradley, she realized with a jolt. He would have stalked her everywhere she went.

  She knew his ways. He had come to the island to harass her, to lay a guilt trip on her and make her miserable until she agreed to give up her job and return to Portland with him.

  “Bastard.” She didn’t realize she had spoken aloud until Alex gave her a startled look.

  “Me?”

  “No. My ex. He was a controlling bastard, and I was a fool not to see it sooner. Solly tried to warn me early on, but I was swept off my feet by Bradley. My first real boyfriend and boy, did I fall for a doozy.”

  No longer hungry, she pushed the pizza away and finished off her wine. She went to the chiller and refilled her glass.

  “Bradley was an only child of only children,” she continued. “Both his parents were professionals. Mother was a surgeon and his father a lawyer. Bradley took his father’s place when Bradley senior retired. He died less than a year later, left the firm to his son.”

  Alex listened with half an ear, still stuck on the fact that Bradley Higgins was Harriet’s first boyfriend. He found that interesting and wondered why she had waited until almost her mid-twenties to get involved with someone.

  “Tell me about Solomon.”

  “What’s to tell? We were both runaways and hooked up on the street. I told you that already. Being part of a couple kept the men away from me.”

  And why had she needed someone to keep the men away? Alex wondered. The reason had to be lodged in Harriet’s past. He’d bet that it had to do with whatever had made her run away in the first place.

  Harriet found that the wine had loosened her tongue. She twirled her wine glass on the counter, watching the way the pale gold liquid trapped the light. “Solly likes to have sex with men. You know that, right? He’d be happy to have sex with you if you’re interested.”

  Alex chewed the food in his mouth thoughtfully and swallowed. “What about you?” he asked, his expression suddenly keen.

  “Me and Solly? No. We tried it once, but we couldn’t get past one kiss.”

  The memory made her smile. They had been so rational about it at the time. If they went to bed together it would solve a lot of their problems. Only there was no spark there and they became best friends instead.

  “No, not you and Solly.” Alex waited for Harriet to understand, caring more than he wanted to admit about her reaction to what he was suggesting. The outrageous step that he was suggesting.

  “Not me and Solly.” Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand his meaning, then suddenly cleared and her eyes widened. “Would I like to have sex with you?”

  Her body fairly quivered with the thought and she had trouble getting a full breath. She had never felt so attracted to a man as she did to Alex and wondered if every woman felt this way around him. Fortunately she got a handle on her emotions and realized Alex was just making conversation. Testing her. She could play along with him.

  “Are you saying you want me?” she asked, pointing to her chest with a finger. “Little ol’ me? I don’t believe you. Why would you?”

  “Yes, I want you.” Alex scowled at her, wishing he’d never said anything. He hadn’t hooked up with anyone since nearly a year before taking his new position so why start now?

  That was easy, he answered himself. Until Harriet came into his life nobody had attracted him in a long, long while.

  “Is it so hard to believe that I find you attractive?” he asked her.

  Harriet nodded emphatically. “Well, yes, yes it is. Because Solly told me you were a strictly hands off kind of guy and . . . “ she hesitated . . . “well, to be honest, men don’t usually go for me. I’m too tall–not small and petite and curvy the way men like women to be. And I’m not at all pretty.”

  “Solomon is wrong. I’m not a ‘hands off kind of guy’. It’s more that no one’s interested me in a while. Until you showed up. Oh the hell with it.”

  Alex tossed down the pizza slice he held. He reached Harriet in two steps, grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss.

  Alex’s mouth felt soft and tentative at first. As Harriet sagged against him his arms slid around her and pulled her closer and he deepened the kiss.

  Harriet felt herself drawn in, wrapped in the safety of Alex’s arms, and found herself wanting to press closer still. She leaned into his hard body, wrapped her hands in his hair and gave herself over to the kiss. His hair felt as smooth and silky as she had imagined. A sharp thrill shot through her body, rocking her with its intensity.

  When Alex broke away she swayed on her feet, her eyes still closed.

  “I have to go,” he said, his voice gruff.

  Harriet’s eyes popped open. She stood for a moment, not understanding what was happening, before disappointment and embarrassment flooded through her.

  Once again she hadn’t measured up.

  Her old insecurities came roaring back. After two years with Bradley she was still inexperienced. Technically a virgin. Her ex hadn’t enjoyed having sex with her and had blamed Harriet’s lack of expertise, her lack of sex appeal, for his inability to make love to her.

  She had tried. She had snuck in and read books on sex, trying to understand what she was doing wrong, but nothing had worked. Bradley remained impotent and she was at fault.

  She had been a virgin before Bradley, hadn’t even known how to kiss properly. At first her inexperience had been a selling point for him. It was proof that she belonged to him and no one else. He had wanted to possess her, but he hadn’t been interested in teaching her how to make love.

  She knew that now. At the time she only felt shame that she wasn’t enough for the man she loved.

  And now Alex had backed off just like Bradley always did. She had been foolish to respond to Alex’s kiss–to expose her lack of knowledge to a man she barely knew.

  “I’ll see you to the door.” The cool evenness of her voice surprised Harriet. If she was this good of an actress maybe she could get a job as a waitress in a dinner theatre restaurant after Mr. Wade fired her from the PR position.

  “Harriet.” Alex cupped her shoulders gently. “I can’t do this. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Until I find Bradley’s murderer you remain on the suspect list and I can’t get involved with you.”

  Hope blossomed in Harriet’s breast. She ruthlessly beat it back. “I thought I was cleared because I wasn’t on the island when Bradley was killed.”

  “You were cleared. Until this afternoon when I received word from Bradley’s estate attorney. You are his sole heir.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Harriet forgot about seeing Alex to the door. Forgot about Alex breaking off their kiss.

  As Alex walked away, she stood rooted to the kitchen floor, stunned. She heard the cottage door close. Somewhere in the back of her brain it registered that he had let himself out. His motorcycle engine revved and took off and still she couldn’t move. She stared down blindly at the open pizza boxes on the counter.

  Bradley had made her his sole heir? Why on earth would he do that?

  “I need to see Solly.”

  Harriet hastily grabbed the remainder of the pizzas and let hers
elf out the lanai door. The night was clear, the dark sky strung with the lights of countless stars. The small waves beyond the beach sparkled with phosphorescence as they lapped at the sand.

  Harriet padded barefoot to Solly’s cottage and rapped on his lanai door. The cottage was dark but she knew he had to be in there. She tried the door–unlocked–and slid it open.

  “Solly? Are you in here? Wake up, I need to talk to you.”

  A light came on and Solly came padding naked out of the bedroom, yawning. “Who can sleep with roaring motorcycles coming and going next door?” he complained. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me you and the sexy security expert did the nasty and you’re here to give me all the juicy details.”

  He flopped into one of the cushioned chairs and indicated the pizza boxes in Harriet’s hands.

  “You brought me a late snack?”

  “Yes. Pizza. And it’s not that late. Why are you in bed so early?”

  Solly yawned again, shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “Extra early start to the morning. Worked all day lugging and placing potted plants around the cottages and dining areas. I’m beat. Didn’t even have the energy to eat, just face-planted in bed as soon as I got home. I’m hungry now though.”

  “Go put something on. I can’t talk to you when you’re . . . dangling like that.”

  Solly grinned, unabashed. “For you darling, I’ll cover my jewels. Be right back. Pour us some wine, will you, luv?”

  Harriet grabbed a bottle of white wine from Solly’s chiller, two glasses, plates and napkins. He was back in the chair wearing his faded jean shorts and an equally faded tee when she returned.

  “So what’s up, sugar,” he asked as he accepted a glass of wine and a slice of pizza. “Besides Hubba Alex paying you a visit?”

  “Bradley left me everything.” She blurted it out, took a deep breath, repeated it. “Bradley left me everything.”