by P. Creeden
Once she’d finished signing the checks, Felicity looked up at Mr. Wright and listened intently.
“Curtis and Heath are reliable workers and good supervisors. They have a bit of a yin and yang… good cop, bad cop… thing going on between the two of them. The only real worry you have until you decide whether you will keep the winery or sell it is what is to be done with the main house. It’s just under two thousand square feet and four bedrooms. It could be made into a bunkhouse for the migrant workers, or you could allow some of the other employees to live there if you’re not interested in living there yourself.”
Felicity frowned and cleared her throat, rubbing her arms from the chill of the air inside the trailer. “I’m not yet prepared to make any decision on whether to sell the winery… or what to do with the house. Could I have a week or two to think things over? I’d rather discuss these things with my adoptive parents when they return from their overseas trip.”
As he swung the check book back around to face his direction, Mr. Wright nodded and then checked the signatures on each one of them individually as if to check Felicity’s handwriting. “That’s certainly understandable and doable. Everything here looks good. I guess we’ll see each other again tomorrow for the funeral and the wake. The employees have asked that we have the wake here, in Liz’s home after the funeral. I’ve taken the liberty of asking Miss Kim to prepare the house if that’s okay?”
A lump lodged in Felicity’s throat. She wasn’t sure how she felt about dozens of strangers gathering in Liz’s home. Then she remembered that they weren’t strangers to Liz, and she nodded. “I think Liz would like that.”
“Great. Then we’ll see you at the funeral in the morning.”
She nodded, the lump in her throat keeping her from saying another word about it. Though she felt distant from her birthmother, and that distance made it so that she didn’t feel the kind of distraught sorrow that one would feel at her mother’s death, sadness still gripped her insides. Part of it was the sadness she felt at the loss of anyone that she knew who died, even when it was just an acquaintance. But also, there was a feeling of emptiness from the knowledge that Liz was her mother and she was gone.
After shaking hands with Mr. Wright, Felicity led Jay to the door and back outside. The sun shone down on her from overhead, warming up her skin so that it prickled slightly. She closed her eyes as the door shut behind her and just lifted her face toward it and let the rays flood over her.
“Glad to see you finally listened about putting that dog on a leash.”
She choked and coughed as her eyes snapped open. Her gaze shot toward the sound of the voice she’d heard. Curtis Page sat in his ATV, leaning on the steering wheel as she stood on the top step of the trailer office. The fear she’d felt earlier returned, and her stomach flipped. But she refused to allow the fear to get a foothold. She battled it the best way she knew how—with anger. She glared at the man as she walked down the steps to the path below. “Good afternoon to you, too, Mr. Page.”
He returned her glare with a scowl. “Good afternoon.”
They had a momentary staring contest of her walking past him and him dismounting his ATV, and then she turned her nose away and allowed JJ to lead her back toward the parking lot. As she rounded the stacks of barrels, a creaking sound drew her attention, and the sound of cracking wood.
“Look out!” Mr. Page shouted from behind her.
For a moment, she couldn’t tell what she was looking at. The barrels at the top of the stack seemed to move backward, away from her, but then she found the barrels at the bottom were rolling in her direction.
She felt rough hands push her out of the way as the first of the barrels rolled past where she’d just been standing. Four more joined in. She blinked and found Mr. Page standing overtop of her. “Why on earth would you just stand there and watch the barrels coming to you? Do you have a death wish or something?”
Ringing filled her ears as her anger bubbled up more. She drew herself to her feet and dusted herself off. Jay whined up at her. “No, I don’t have a death wish. But it seems you might be trying to kill me!”
His eyes grew wide for a moment. “What are you talking about?”
She gestured toward the barrels. “You made this happen, didn’t you?”
The scowl came back to his face, full-force. “Are you crazy? Why on earth would I do that?”
“You’re trying to hurt me because I’m Liz’s daughter, aren’t you? You killed her and made it look like a suicide, and now you’re trying to kill me. I don’t know what grudge you had against my mother, but I don’t want anything to do with this winery. I just want to live in peace.” Felicity hadn’t realized that she’d been shouting until she noticed that they’d had an audience. Mr. Wright stood on the porch of the office trailer, while Mr. Anderson and three of the purple-shirted staff stood next to the main building.
Heat rushed up her neck and warmed her face as she blushed.
“I would never hurt Liz. I would never hurt you. I just saved you from being crushed by these barrels. They are filled with a salt solution for storage, and each one weighs over six-hundred pounds. Why would I push you out of the way if I wanted to kill you?”
Felicity shook her head and gripped Jay’s leash harder. “Last minute act of conscience?”
He shook his head, his eyes going a little wide again.
“Darren knows that this is a murder. He’s been looking into it. It’s only a matter of time before he finds the evidence that puts you away.” Felicity hoped her poker face was convincing, because she just upped the ante with nothing but a bluff.
Mr. Page shook his head harder, like a dog would when trying to get water out of its coat. “I don’t need to stand here and listen to this. I’ve got better things to do.”
Felicity stood there, breathing heavily for a moment, staring at Mr. Page’s back as he headed to his ATV and peeled out.
“Are you okay, Felicity?” Heath Anderson stood next to her and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. His brows knit over his worried-looking eyes.
As nice as he was being, Felicity just wanted to be alone. She slipped to the side. “Thank you. I’m fine. I’m sorry for causing a scene,” she said, and then ducked her head and started toward Georgia’s car in the lot.
Once she’d unlocked the door and let herself in, she swiped the tears from her eyes that had blurred her vision. It had happened again. Another accident. Too many accidents to just be coincidental. Curtis Page wanted her dead, she was certain. She shook her head and grabbed her phone, wanting to call Darren and tell him everything that had just happened. But at the same time, she didn’t want to feel the rejection his dismissal would cause. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then noticed a text message from Darren.
Pick you up at your house at about four?
It was almost two-thirty right now. That gave her enough time to get back home and hop in the shower again before he came. She sent a quick text back: Perfect. And then started the car and headed home.
Darren sat across from Felicity at one of the few chain restaurants in town. He had been happy she’d accepted his dinner invitation after they’d stopped to pick up her SUV, because he could tell there was something eating away at her. Now that he’d heard the events of the afternoon, his stomach sank and so did his mood.
“I’m really sorry to hear that. You’re right. The chances of there being three accidents at the winery in the past two days that could have taken your life are slim to none. It’s more than a coincidence.” Although Darren had been positive that the man seemed honest and hardworking—and not a murderer—maybe he’d been fooled.
“You still haven’t closed the case yet?”
He shook his head. “I was supposed to today, but my lieutenant cut me some slack because I closed the case of the hotel robbery today.”
She blinked, a smile spreading across her face. “You did? That’s incredible! Congratulations.”
Darren’s hand we
nt to the back of his neck and he rubbed it, looking down at the plate of pancakes stacked in front of him. Felicity had said she’d wanted breakfast for dinner, so they both had gotten eggs, pancakes, and sausages. But they’d been talking when their food arrived, and they hadn’t yet tucked in. He smiled up at her sheepishly as he pulled the hand from the back of his neck and picked up his fork. “Thank you.”
She followed his lead and picked up her fork as well. “Has it always been your dream to be a detective?”
He stabbed a sausage with his fork and then nodded before biting it in half. His kid brother, Tony, always got after him for talking with his mouth full, so he chewed and swallowed, pretending to think it over before speaking. “Yes. My uncle was a detective and I always looked up to him. My father was an auto-mechanic, so he was really happy to see me follow after his brother and get a job that didn’t work with my hands and needed a bit more education.”
“Didn’t you go to UCLA?”
He nodded again. “I did, and Tony is going there right now.”
She smiled wide. “Tony. Ugh. I haven’t seen him since he was like… twelve.”
“He’s still a cute little trouble-maker. He hasn’t changed much since he was twelve… maybe he’s a little taller.”
“Those dimples though. I bet he’s a heartbreaker.”
Darren laughed. “Probably.”
“You have one, too. He has dimples in both his cheeks, but you have one that pops when you smile. Does that make you half the heartbreaker he is?” Cute and clever. Felicity never let him rest, and he rather liked that about her.
He shrugged, swallowing down the bite of pancake he’d taken. “I don’t know about that.”
She nodded, eating a bit of her eggs. “What about Kent? Didn’t he go to UCLA?”
Darren felt his face scrunch just a bit. “No. He actually did follow in my dad’s footsteps a bit. He liked working with his hands more, so he went to Gold Coast Community College and got an Associate’s Degree in Business so he didn’t have to move away from Monique. Dad co-signed a loan for him so he could start his own garage. In that way, he works for himself, and that’s what makes him happy.”
“Wow, I’m embarrassed that Monique and I fell so out of touch that I didn’t even know what was going on with the two of them.”
He shook his head and grabbed a sip of his orange juice to wash down another bite. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s amazing that the high school sweethearts are still together after all this time. So, how about you? Are you doing what you always wanted to do?”
She nodded. “I am. I always wanted to work with JJ to help children who have reading disabilities. It’s a subject that’s close to my heart, because I grew up with dyslexia.” She blushed a bit and kept her eyes downcast at that last part.
Butterflies tickled Darren’s stomach. She’d just shared something deeply personal to her with him, and he understood the significance of it. “That’s great. Not only do you get to make sure that other children suffer less than you did, but you also get to work with your canine best friend on a daily basis.”
She looked up and smiled. “Yes! You totally get it. People have one of two reactions when I tell them what I do: skepticism or cynicism—as if what I do is small and unnecessary… or just plain hokey. But I believe that children learn better when they have a non-judgmental partner helping them along the way. And JJ’s the perfect partner.”
“Sounds great and makes perfect sense. I know that those children are benefiting greatly from having both you and JJ in their lives. Where did you get him, by the way? Was he trained to be a therapy dog before you got him?”
“Oh, no. My parents got him for me for my birthday about three years ago. He comes from a line of working Golden Retrievers who all have jobs in therapy, obedience, and other lines of work. It’s pretty incredible, but Carol Graves, the breeder, even sends email updates on how JJ’s littermates are out there saving the world.” Her eyes sparkled as she talked about her best friend. It was almost enough to make Darren jealous.
But he wasn’t jealous. He understood. Dogs were practically heaven-sent. He’d had the best dog of his whole life as a teenager—one that had helped him through his mother’s death. He’d been heartbroken when it, too, died of cancer. They just didn’t live long enough. If the world was just, dogs would live thirty or forty years or more.
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their meal. Afterward, they took a stroll down the main street, back toward the lot where they’d parked their cars. A breeze blew back Felicity’s ponytail, exposing her elegant neck and pale skin. She looked in the windows of each storefront as they passed—the bakery, a clothing store, a bookstore. It didn’t matter what kind of store it was; Felicity gave each window her complete attention.
Which was fine, until she tripped over nothing, and Darren caught her to keep her from landing on the concrete. His hands remained on her elbows when she laughed at herself and said, “whoopsie,” in the most adorable way.
Darren lifted an eyebrow at her and then placed her hand in his. “Lean on me for balance. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a clumsier girl. Maybe you are just accident-prone.”
She surprised him by squeezing his hand and punching him in the shoulder. “I’m clumsy, but there’s no way I tripped myself into a cooler or a rattlesnake into my car.”
His shoulder stung a little from where she’d hit it, but he didn’t mind it. It was an affectionate tap, and it distracted him from how much he liked the warmth of her hand in his. “Just kidding,” he offered.
After shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she went back to window shopping on the way to the parking lot. It slowed down their walk, and he wondered for half a moment if that might be her goal. Did she not want this moment to end any more than he did? The thought of it brought those butterflies back to the pit of his stomach. Even though they hadn’t made it official, was this their first date, in fact?
“Do you ever think about getting married?” she asked.
He blinked, nearly choking on the last breath he’d just drawn. “W-what?”
She pointed at the wedding dresses in the Hidden Gem bridal shop. “I’m not sure if I want to wear something fancy like that. When I think about all the work that goes into the wedding, I wonder if it’s just easier to elope. That’s what my parents did, and they had a successful marriage.”
The dress in the window was extravagant with puffed-out sleeves, lace trim, and pearl-like beads everywhere. He swallowed and kept his eyes focused on the dress as he answered, “That does seem pretty fancy. But eloping means that your parents and family miss out on seeing the moment when you make that promise to love and honor someone for the rest of your life. I would want my dad and my brothers there. Family’s important to me.”
“I like that,” she answered, smiling up at him when his eyes met hers. “You’re right. Family is important. I’d want my mom and dad there, too. Maybe going through all the trouble of a wedding wouldn’t be too bad, provided that it’s small. Maybe even a backyard wedding.”
Instead of letting him answer, she tugged his hand and moved on from the bridal shop. Why had his heart thundered so much in his chest when she’d talked about having a small wedding? Even though she hadn’t said it would be their wedding, he couldn’t help but imagine it for a brief moment. Felicity in a simpler but just as white dress, walking toward him down a grassy row between white folding chairs in a large yard like the winery. He swallowed those thoughts back down. Yes, he was falling hard for this girl, but marriage was not a topic he thought he’d discuss on a first date. As they continued on to the next shop, though, he couldn’t get his heart to calm once more or his mind off the feeling of her hand in his.
When they reached their cars, parked side by side, he hesitated. He didn’t want to let her hand go. She made no move to remove it herself. Every signal that she gave him was that she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her. Pink and purple wash
ed through the sky as the sun began to set, and Felicity’s eyes sparkled in the dying light. He couldn’t help himself and leaned in toward her, smiling as she tilted her chin up and closed her eyes. Her hand squeezed his slightly.
He tasted her lips, the soft touch sending a jolt of electricity through his core. The feeling of her lips on his made him greedy, and he pulled her arm with his around her back, using both to draw her into his body. Her frame fit perfectly with his. And he kissed her again, feeling each lip separately between his. Her other hand fisted in the shirt on his back. His free hand felt the softness of her cheek in his palm. And he pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against hers. His eyes remained closed for a moment as he just breathed her in and savored the moment.
When he opened his eyes again, her bright blue irises had become a darker, midnight blue. He wondered at the sight and imagined all the shades of blue that they could be. He wanted to see them all. Slowly he pulled back and loosened his hold on her. He’d never thought about marriage or being with a girl forever like this, but Felicity brought out those feelings in him. Nothing about those thoughts with her scared him. They excited him instead.
She squeezed his hand and then pulled it away. “Goodnight,” she said, her voice a little bit husky, a little bit breathless.
And the desire to catch her, pull her back in, and kiss her again overwhelmed him, but instead, he squeezed his empty hand into a fist to feel the memory of her warmth there again, and said, “Goodnight.”
Chapter Thirteen
Felicity leaned hard on Georgia throughout the funeral, holding hands with her best friend. Georgia’s red hair was pulled back in a bun from her face, and her mascara ran from the sides of her eyes while people spoke about their love and respect for Liz. Both Felicity’s throat and stomach hurt from crying as much as she did, too. It was the first time that she truly felt that she was in mourning for her birthmother but releasing all those tears gave her the first closure she’d had since Darren had shown up in her driveway. Jay was her other stalwart companion, quietly sitting next to her through the whole event.
