Driftwood Cove--Two stories for the price of one

by Debbie Mason

  “Is it? I thought you would’ve heard from your father by now.” She shrugged her shoulders beneath a fur coat the exact shade of brown as her chin-length hair. She was an attractive woman who looked at least two decades younger than her age. She spent a small fortune to stay that way. “Obviously I made the right decision if he can’t be bothered to let his sons know that I’ve left him.”

  Michael’s extended hand fell to his side. Until that moment, he’d never been at a loss for words. Now it was possible the consequences of his mother driving herself to the place she hated most in the world to deliver her announcement to him, her wayward son, were already beginning to form in his head and negatively impacting his power of speech. However, given that he hadn’t fully recovered from his trip down Cherry’s cleavage and the FaceTime evidence that he’d once again managed to tick off Shay, he held out hope he’d misunderstood what his mother had said.

  “Left him? As in you’ve left him to his own devices to come for a visit today?”

  She gave him the same look she’d been giving him for the past thirty-four years whenever he failed to live up to her expectations. “You used to be such a bright boy. It must be that new job. It’s not challenging enough, and you’re losing brain matter.” She lifted her hand, motioning at him with her manicured fingers. “Well, I’m here now, and I’ll have your life back on track in no time at all. You’ve been floundering ever since you and Bethany broke up. I’m partially to blame, I know. Your father’s career took up so much of my energy, I’m afraid I’ve neglected you and your brothers. But now that he no longer needs me, I plan to make it up to the three of you.” With the tip of her red fingernail, she swiped away a tear that clung to her bottom lashes.

  Michael stared at her. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her cry. Wail and rage, definitely. Real tears? No, never. “Mom, trust me on this. Dad needs you.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Your father has decided to retire.” She took his hand and came unsteadily, he thought, to her feet.

  He looked at her more closely, noting her lack of bronzed glow and lipstick. She never left home without her makeup on. Then again, this was a woman who didn’t start her day until eleven, and it was much earlier than that. Still, she was his mother, and she was obviously hurting. “I’m sorry you and Dad are going through a rough patch, Mom. I’m sure the old man will be lost without you and beg you to come home.” Hopefully by tomorrow. Tonight would be even better. “You’re welcome to stay here a couple days, but you might be more comfortable at Connor’s penthouse in the city.”

  She tilted her head and attempted a frown, but she must have had a Botox treatment recently.

  “Okay, so maybe not Connor’s, but what about Logan? You could help him find a place in Washington.”

  “There’s nothing your father could do or say to make me change my mind. I’ve been taking care of him for more than forty years; it’s your boys’ turn. And don’t worry about your brothers. I’ll get to them as soon as I’ve gotten your life back on track. It’s past time you were married and had a family of your own, Michael. I want to see you settled. As I said, you’re floundering.”

  “Mom, I’m not floundering.” But he was panicking at the idea of Maura taking control of his love life and playing matchmaker. Been there, done that, and it wasn’t an experience he wished to repeat ever again.

  “Trust me, you’re floundering, and floundering badly,” she said with a pointed look at the cottage.

  He was almost relieved that her evidence of his life being in complete disarray was his move to Harmony Harbor. For a minute there, he’d thought it might have something to do with Shay being back in town. “Moving here isn’t a reflection on my life needing an overhaul, Mom. The board at the condo wants the building pet free, and Atticus and I were being harassed. Besides that, it’ll be better for him here. He’ll have company when I’m at work. Jasper’s going to walk him, and he’s arranging playdates for him with Miller.”

  “Really, Michael. You’re more concerned about Atticus’s social life than your own.” As she turned to walk toward the cottage, he heard her mutter under her breath, “It’s worse than I thought. He’s the perfect target for that Angel woman. If she thinks she can get her hooks into him again, she needs a reminder who she’s up against.”

  * * *

  “Hate to be the one to ruin your day, pretty boy,” James said with a grin as Michael made his way across the field toward him. They had another murder. The call had come in right after his mother had inadvertently given him a clear idea of her agenda.

  Michael was about to tell his partner he should’ve gotten up earlier if he wanted to ruin his day, but James was on a role, performing for the CSS—Crime Scene Services—who were busy protecting the crime scene and body from the inclement weather that was forecasted to arrive within a few hours. “Just kidding, I love ruining your day…and your suit. Tom Ford? How much, ten grand? Look at my boy, guys. Isn’t he stylish?”

  Michael looked up at the bloated gray sky when a couple of James’s CSS friends joined in the ribbing. It didn’t bother him as long as it didn’t interfere with getting the job done, but today, he could’ve done without it. He was preoccupied, trying to figure out what his mother was up to while he was at work. He was tempted to warn Shay to go the other way if she saw a metallic gray Cadillac coming her way. Yeah, that would go over really well.

  One of the investigators moved aside, and Michael got his first look at the victim. Like Fat Tony, the gray-haired man appeared to be in his late sixties. He’d also been shot execution-style. The same as Fat Tony. “Any ID on him?” Michael asked.

  “More than that, partner. And this really is going to ruin your day,” James said as he snapped on a pair of gloves. “Give me the cell, will you, Lou?” A man in white coveralls handed a smartphone to James. “Looks like your old pal Charlie Angel knew our latest vic too.” He turned the screen. “So, either all three of your witnesses are lying about the last time they saw Angel or he’s on Danny’s payroll and arranging the meets.”

  So much for thinking his day couldn’t get worse. “You’re assuming he’s guilty, and I don’t believe he is.”

  “Yeah, because you don’t want to. We’ve already established you have a thing for his niece. But that doesn’t make him innocent, pretty boy.”

  “Knock off the pretty boy. And this has nothing to do with Shay. Two of the witnesses are completely reliable, but not the third.”

  “The kid?”

  He nodded. “Something didn’t feel right. I got the feeling that she saw something that night. Whatever it is, she’s protecting Charlie. Now we just have to find out why.”

  “You questioned her last night. Why didn’t you—”

  “She’s fourteen, and her mother wasn’t there. Plus, it was late, and whether she’d admit it or not, the kid had a scare.”

  “Okay, so back we go to Harmony Harbor.”

  Chapter Seven

  Of course I’m still angry. After everything I told you, you were conspiring with the enemy,” Shay said as she brought Roxy’s booties to Cherry as ordered. This was the third bathroom break since Michael’s phone call this morning.

  Which might explain the intrigued gleam in Cherry’s eyes. She obviously felt Shay’s fit of temper should be over by now. “FYI, your false eyelashes are still stuck to your forehead,” she said in an attempt to distract her friend.

  Great. Cherry looked even more intrigued. As though Shay were some kind of ice queen who never experienced emotion of any kind. Which in and of itself was annoying. She was no different than anyone else.

  Cherry had her over-the-top emotions on display practically every day. It wasn’t like Shay didn’t experience those same wide range of emotions. It’s just that she’d trained herself to never let them show, unwilling to let anyone read her and gain the upper hand. It was safer that way.

  She should’ve reminded herself of that last night. Admittedly, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. She�
��d reached her breaking point thanks to the close call in Vegas, lack of sleep, and worry over Charlie. She was only human after all.

  A switch had been tripped when she found out that Michael’s great-grandmother was the reason she’d lost her sisters. She’d been swamped by emotions so fierce she’d been unable to contain them. They’d spewed out of her like a volcano erupting after lying dormant for years. Everything she’d thought she’d buried long ago. And Cherry had been there to bear witness to it all. Shay had totally overshared.

  Which may have been why her heart pumped an extra beat when the intrigued gleam in Cherry’s eyes was replaced with a knowing smile. “You’re in love.”

  “With who? Michael?” She didn’t wait for Cherry to answer and vehemently shook her head. “Nooo, no, I told you. We were nothing more than friends with benefits. Anyway, how did you get that I love”—she kind of choked on the word and cleared her throat—“loved Michael out of conspiring with the enemy?”

  “Everyone knows there’s a fine line between love and hate. Besides, I read your tea leaves this morning, and there’s definitely love in your immediate fu—”

  “I didn’t drink tea this morning.”

  Cherry’s eyes went wide. “Then…they were my tea leaves I read. I’m the one who has a lover in her immediate future.” She put a hand to her head and shot a panicked look around the cul-de-sac. “He could be anywhere. I can’t let him see me like this.” She whipped around and headed into the house.

  “Wait, you forgot Roxy.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Go tinkle for Auntie Shay, Roxy Roo. Don’t look at her,” she ordered before tossing the booties to Shay and slamming the door.

  “Don’t lock…” Shay bowed her head at the sound of the lock engaging and caught a glimpse of her bare feet. She was about to turn and bang on the door when a blue Ford beater pulled in front of the Wests’.

  A tall man in a black bomber jacket got out of the car and placed his arms on the roof to play with his phone. His dirty-blond hair and gaunt face reminded her of Eric Stewart, a man she’d once run cons with and helped put away fourteen months before.

  With everything going on, it was a reminder she didn’t need. She’d have to call Aidan Gallagher and find out what story the DEA had put out about her and if her cover had been blown. As far as she knew, the players were all still in jail, so that should make things easier.

  The guy looked up from his phone and glanced her way. Obviously uncomfortable with having an audience, he straightened and gave her a hard-eyed stare.

  There’d been a time when Shay would’ve taken that as a challenge to show him why she couldn’t be intimidated. Now she just rolled her eyes and walked to get Roxy and…“Dammit, oh God, that’s cold,” she whined as her bare feet hit the frozen lawn.

  Eric’s look-alike snorted a contempt-filled laugh and then walked around the hood of the car as a woman rushed out the front door.

  Shay knew this because she’d turned to give him a hard-eyed stare. Instead her gaze narrowed on the woman who was obviously Teddy’s mother. Shay wondered what it was with women running around half naked this morning. Teddy’s mom wore a ratty white robe over stretchy black boy shorts and a matching tank top. Unlike Shay, she’d thought to slip on a pair of fur-trimmed winter boots.

  If not for her sallow skin, raccoon eyes, and smeared red lipstick, the woman would be attractive. She had dark, curly hair like Gabby and light blue eyes like Teddy, only the woman’s were tired. She had an air about her that said she was in a fight with life and life was winning.

  And maybe that explained her attraction to the man she raced across the front lawn toward. Shay knew down to her bones the guy was bad news. It had nothing to do with the beater car and the grungy clothes or the ’tude; some of the best people she knew had next to nothing. No, her instinct about this man came from years of running with the wrong crowd and from her time in prison.

  Not your monkey, not your circus, she told herself. Then her conscience kicked her butt by flashing an image of Teddy kneeling on the kitchen floor last night with her baby sister in her arms. Shay swore under her breath and picked up Roxy.

  Boots first and then an intervention with Teddy’s mother, she decided, certain she’d either stick to the ground or lose a toe if she didn’t get inside pronto. She sprinted to the door, trying to keep the whimpering to a minimum, and leaned on the bell.

  “You better pray your mother hasn’t moved on to fixing her hair or we’ll be out here for two hours,” she said to the shivering dog. Thinking in all likelihood that’s exactly what Cherry was up to, Shay patted the pockets of her jeans for something to pick the lock. It was too bad she’d decided to fix the patio door last night instead of this morning.

  “What the hell is this? This isn’t the amount we agreed on.”

  Shay turned at the man’s raised and angry voice to see him shove what looked like a fistful of bills at Teddy’s mom and grab her hand. Shay put Roxy on the stoop and took off across the lawn.

  “Let her go. Now,” she called out in a voice she’d used in the prison’s exercise yard, a little surprised it didn’t work on him like it’d worked on the women in the pen. Then again, he didn’t know her. He was about to, she thought when he twisted the woman’s hand to get the bag of pills, making her cry out.

  “Yeah, and what are you gonna do if I don’t?” He rolled his eyes like Shay was as laughable as the threat in her voice and flipped her off. “Get lost and mind your own business. She's got my product."

  His eyes narrowed as she kept coming, and he released Teddy’s mom to turn and face Shay. He widened his stance, his expression cocky.

  “It’s okay. I’m fine.” The woman gave Shay a nervous smile, closing her fingers over the baggy in her hand. “Gerry, just go. I’ll square up with—”

  “She’s right, Gerry. You need to leave. And word of advice, don’t come back,” Shay said upon reaching them.

  He moved into her, bumping against her with his chest, forcing her back a step.

  “You heard me warn him to leave, didn’t you?” she said to Teddy’s mom, who gave a small, worried nod. “Good. I thought I made it clear. But just in case you didn’t completely understand me…” She put her hands between them and shoved Gerry back three steps. “Consider this your last warning. Get in your car, drive away, and don’t come around here again.”

  “Make me.” He smirked as he once again got in her face.

  “It’ll be my pleasure.” Shay smiled when he telegraphed his move. Just in case the neighbors were watching, she let him get in a punch, moving at the last minute so that it glanced off her jaw. “My two-year-old niece punches harder than you,” she said, her smile fading at the nugget of truth in the statement.

  She did have a niece. Only her sister had ensured Shay would never know her. It was too bad for Gerry that she’d mentioned the little girl. It reminded her of the meeting with her sister and served to feed Shay’s temper.

  Her movements contained and quick, she curved her right foot behind his ankles, jerking his feet out from under him at the same time she smashed him in the face with her forearm, ensuring that he fell backward and toppled like a tree, emitting a cry and a resounding thud when he hit the ground.

  “Well, that was fun. Should we do it again?” she asked, looking down at him while inwardly praying he got up and went on his merry way. As far as fights go, it wasn’t much of one, but it had served to take the edge off her temper, and the accompanying adrenaline rush was fading fast. Which meant the excruciating burn from her frozen feet was finally able to penetrate her senses. She gritted her teeth to hold back a moan of pain. If she didn’t move this along, she’d be down there beside Gerry writhing and whimpering.

  She turned to Teddy’s mom, who was looking from Gerry groaning on the ground to Shay. Noting the movement of the curtain in the West’s front window, Shay said, “We have an audience. Hand me the baggie and then get inside to your girls.”

  Clutching
the pills to her chest, Teddy’s mom stared at her. “No, you don’t understand. I need them. Gerry, I promise, I’ll find a way to get the rest of the money to you. I’ll”—she averted her gaze from Shay and took a step toward the man working his way into a sitting position—“you know, like last time. Maybe we can work something out.”

  “You and Gerry aren’t doing business anymore, lady. So unless you want me to take them from you, hand over the pills.”

  “Who do you think you are? You can’t tell me—”

  “Yeah, I can, and you know why?” She wrapped her fingers around the woman’s wrist, exerting enough pressure to ensure she released the baggie. “Because you have two little girls who depend on you to be there for them, and if you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll lose your kids.”

  “It’s so easy for you to judge. You have no idea how hard my life is. No idea at all,” she shouted tearfully at Shay before storming toward the house.

  “Getting high isn’t going to make it any easier, now, is it?” she said to the woman’s retreating back and got a finger in response.

  Okay, so really, who was Shay to judge? She had no idea what the woman was going through. But come on, you don’t buy drugs out in the open for your kids and all the neighbors to see. And you don’t bring trouble to your door.

  Her uncle Charlie’s middle name was trouble. He didn’t do drugs, but booze and gambling brought a similar element to their door, not to mention the cons they ran. No doubt Colleen Gallagher’s concerns about the Angel family had been similar to the ones Shay had for the Wests.

  She didn’t know where the thought had come from and immediately pushed it away. Just because she might understand the dead woman’s motives didn’t mean Colleen Gallagher had a right to do what she did.

  Shay turned to Gerry, who was using the car’s rusted fender to pull himself to his feet, and stuffed the baggie in his jacket pocket. “Next time I won’t be so gentle. Stay away from her, Gerry.”