“In what way?” Marc asked.
“He sent her nasty e-mails and stuff. He even left a dead rat at the back door.” Sammie shuddered. “Laura asked Dad to call him off, but he wouldn’t. He said she should wake up and realize what side her bread was buttered on. So Laura decided to work for the cruise line to get away for a while. She hoped Ryan would move on to someone else.”
“But he didn’t?”
Sammie shook her head. “He booked a cabin on her first cruise. I tried to get Laura to quit her new job and stay home, but she thought he wouldn’t be able to do much onboard the ship. She was wrong. He killed her. I know it.” She burst into tears, then turned and buried her face against her mother.
“D-Did he frighten her with music from The Phantom of the Opera?” Elin asked.
Sammie rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t be caught dead listening to something like that. He’s a redneck all the way.”
Something in what she said rang true to Elin. Chills skittered down her spine. Laura had been afraid of this Ryan Mosely.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Marc exhaled and put the SUV in gear. The vehicle rolled away from the Watson residence. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough as Watson had hustled them out. Marc had asked Samantha if she wanted him to find her a shelter, but she refused. He feared she was in for a tongue-lashing with her father. Or worse. What a family. He braked at the stoplight, then turned to head back to Hope Beach.
“You okay?” he asked Elin, who hadn’t said a word since they got in the Tahoe.
When she didn’t answer, he glanced over at her and saw sobs shuddering through her. He pulled the Tahoe to the side of the road and unbuckled his seat belt so he could slide across the bench seat and embrace her. He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. The faint scent of her sweet perfume slipped up his nose. Having her in his arms again felt like coming home. Resting his chin on her hair, he patted her back while she sobbed against his shirt. She fit exactly right in his arms.
He pressed a kiss on her hair. “Hey, you did great. I know it had to be hard, but you held it together. We got some good information today.”
She stiffened and pulled back. “You don’t know what it cost me.”
His hand stilled on her back. “The memories were bad in there.”
She nodded. “They’re so vivid, Marc. I knew just how Judy Watson’s hands would feel. I knew that odor in there was marijuana. You smelled it too, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “He smoked pot a lot?”
“Every night, I think. And did you see the bruises on Judy’s arms? He hits her all the time. I hate him, and I don’t even know him.”
“I saw the bruises. I’d call the cops, but I think she would say they happened in another way. It’s sad. But I saw enough today to hate him myself. It’s not just what you remember from Laura.”
“It is. I just felt the hate rising up. And I don’t like to feel that way. I want to like people and extend them the benefit of the doubt. I was unable to do that with him. He’s an evil, evil man.”
“I could feel that too.” How did he even go about reassuring her? “In this case, it was a good thing you knew Sammie’s nickname. I don’t think we would have gotten anything out of them if she hadn’t heard you call her that.”
She pulled out of his embrace. “Marc, you don’t get it!” She thumped her chest. “I even said Sammie’s name the way her sister did. I’m afraid, so afraid. I don’t want to be someone else. I want to be me. What if someday I wake up and look in the mirror and Elin Summerall isn’t there anymore? What if I forget who I am?”
He heard the desperation in her voice, but he didn’t know how to alleviate it. “I’ve seen some changes in you, Elin, but they aren’t important to the core of who you are. I mean, identity changes all the time. You’ve been a daughter, a wife, a mother. You’ve been an employee. Now you’re a somewhat-notorious figure in the news with your memories of the murder.” He grinned but she didn’t smile back. “You’re still you.”
“In what way?” She was listening now, the tears in her eyes drying up.
“Tastes aren’t who you are. Memories aren’t who you are. Roles aren’t either, for that matter. Your personality is made up of how you think and react. How you treat people. How you interact with strangers and family. Those things haven’t changed, Elin. You always think of other people before yourself. Was Laura like that? With a father like Watson, I doubt it. I bet all she thought about was escape, no matter who it hurt.”
She bit her lip and pushed her hair behind her ears. She scrubbed the last traces of tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m afraid of suddenly not loving Josie. Or Mom or . . .” She looked away.
Who else was she afraid of not loving? Tim? But he was gone. Something stirred in Marc. Jealousy? Ridiculous. Tim was never coming back from the grave. Marc examined her face, the sweet curve of her cheek and her large, expressive eyes. She had no idea how beautiful she was. Exactly how did he plan to live with her and not feel the desire welling even now? Not want to touch her petal-soft skin? Not remember the way her lips tasted and how she felt in his arms?
He jerked his thoughts away from the danger zone. Maybe his idea of a marriage of convenience between them really was a pipe dream. He might not be able to keep his hands off her.
His office was quiet as Marc navigated around the computer screen. Elin could have been beside him, but she feared getting too close to him would cause her to give away her feelings. He could tell her what he found.
She walked to the window and looked down onto the busy street. The virus hadn’t killed her. This problem could be overcome too. God had made her who she was, and she intended to keep herself. But how? How did she protect herself from Laura’s influence?
Marc glanced at her. “Shut the door, would you? If my boss sees us poking around, I’m in trouble. He’s not supposed to be in today, but you never know.”
She stepped across the room and shut the door. “Lock it?”
“Yeah, good idea.” He leaned back in the office chair. “Aha.”
She turned and went to look at the computer with him. “What did you find?”
“First off, Josh is in the clear. He got a delivery of food about the time Laura was murdered. And he called to complain about a noisy party in the next room fifteen minutes later. I think we can rule him out.”
“Oh, good! Sara will be so relieved. What else?”
He popped a mint. “Ryan Mosely and Jerry Watson own a mechanic’s shop. They’ve been in business together for twenty years. Mosely must have started working there in his twenties. And they are solvent. Not raking in a ton of money but a nice, steady income.”
“Has he ever been arrested?”
“That’s the interesting thing. Look here.” He clicked to another screen. “When he was eighteen, he was arrested for peeping in windows. Got probation. Then when he was twenty, he was arrested for battery. A girlfriend claimed he was stalking her, and when she ordered him to leave, he hit her with his fist. Spent a night in jail, then she dropped the charges. We should talk to her.” He pulled his iPad toward him and jotted down her name and address, then rose and took her arm.
She fell into step beside him, and they headed for the exit. “Do you think we should go see Mosely too?”
“Let’s get some evidence first about his past behavior. We can bring it up to him and see how he reacts.”
She blinked in the bright sunshine as they headed to the Tahoe. “Do you remember seeing his name on the passenger manifest?”
“He’s there. I’m going to take a look at the logs and see if she registered a complaint about harassment.”
He slid under the steering wheel, and she went around to the passenger side. The traffic was heavy on the street, so she waited a moment before opening the door. Before she could slide in, she heard the squeal of tires. Her head jerked up to see a dirty brown car speeding right at her. She stood frozen as the vehicle seemed to deliberately
take aim at her.
She felt a tug on her arm as Marc yanked her inside. The car crashed into the door and tore it partially from its hinges. She sat stunned as the vehicle raced away and disappeared around the corner. Her pulse thudded in her chest. If Marc hadn’t intervened, the driver would have hit her.
“That appeared deliberate.” His breath was harsh in her ear, and his hand, still on her arm, trembled a little.
Elin nodded. “And he didn’t stop. I didn’t see the license number, did you?” She should move away, but his presence helped still the tremors rippling along her skin.
He shook his head. “It all happened so fast.” He finally dropped his hand away and scooted back under the steering wheel. “I didn’t even see the driver, did you?”
“I caught a glimpse of a figure wearing a fedora. I couldn’t tell if it was male or female. Or any details, really.” Her hands trembled as she fastened her seat belt. “Marc, could it have been Mosely? What if Watson called him and told him we’d been informed of his unwanted attention to Laura?”
“Maybe.” His lips flattened. “But it might have been Laura’s killer too.”
She shuddered. “It didn’t seem his style. He seems much more inclined to terrorize me before he strikes.”
“Maybe. Or he could just be done playing cat and mouse. Maybe we’re getting too close so he planned to finish it.” He started the Tahoe and pulled out into traffic. “It could have been Mosely. That makes a lot of sense.” He turned at the light.
“How far to the old girlfriend’s house? What’s her name?”
“Kimberly Bussey. She’s on this side of Norfolk, about ten minutes away.”
Elin twisted in her seat and looked behind them. No sign of the brown car. She wanted all this to be over. What if he’d killed her today? She had no provisions for Josie other than her sister taking custody. Marc would not want Abby to have his daughter. He would want to raise her himself. And really, he should. He was her father. Josie was growing to love him more and more every day.
Was she being selfish by refusing to consider his proposal? She wanted only the best for her daughter, and there wasn’t a finer man around than Marc Everton.
He glanced at her, then flipped on the turn signal. “You’re awfully quiet. You okay?”
What would he say if she told him she was actually considering his offer? She exhaled. “Fine. I–I was just thinking about what would have happened to Josie if that car had hit me.”
He braked, then turned left. “I would take care of her. I don’t want you worrying about that. You’re thinking about marrying me?”
She wasn’t quite ready to go that far. “Well, at least you should probably adopt her legally. Right now she’s Tim’s daughter by law.”
“I’m willing to do that.” He sounded eager. “What about Tim’s parents? Will you have to tell them?”
“Yes, but I don’t think they’ll care. They haven’t shown that much interest in her. I suspect Tim may have told them Josie wasn’t his biological child.”
He braked. “Here we are. Let’s pray she’s home and will talk.”
TWENTY-NINE
The search for the missing contraband hadn’t turned up anything. Sara redid her ponytail and surveyed the landscape off the point at Seagrass Pier. She turned to Josh and shrugged. “I think this is a waste of time.”
They’d been instructed to make one more pass looking for the other crate thrown overboard in the rescue two weeks ago. It seemed a lost cause. She didn’t think there were more drugs to find.
“Yeah, I think so too,” Josh said.
Since their discussion on Tuesday, he hadn’t strung more than two sentences together to her. Two could play that game though, and Sara was trying to act as though he meant nothing to her. Her attempt to be honest hadn’t gotten her anywhere. Maybe because it was hopeless.
“I think I’ll check over on the other side of the forest. There’s an area behind the house we haven’t searched. You guys go on back to Hope Beach, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I promised Elin I’d hang around tonight at the house and make sure there were no problems with her mother.”
“Fine.” He turned to go.
She couldn’t bear another minute of his distance. “Josh, your brother’s death wasn’t your fault. Besides, you were only twelve years old! What could you have done to stop it? Don’t you think he would want you to be happy? He wouldn’t want you punishing yourself for your whole life.”
He stilled. “I don’t know. You deserve someone better than me. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
“What do you think your rejection is doing?” She took a step closer and touched his arm. “I know you love me. Why can’t you just say it?”
“Once I say it, I–I . . .” He gulped and took a step back so her hand fell from his arm. “I’m an all-or-nothing guy.”
“So give it your all,” she said softly. “That’s all any of us can do.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I love you too much to . . .” His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said.
The words were like a balm to her sore heart. Her smile burst out, and she threw her arms around his neck. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
His arms came around her, then just as quickly released. He grabbed her wrists and tugged them down from his neck. “I’m sorry I said that, Sara. It solves nothing. I’d better go search. Talk to you later.” He turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Her smile faded as she watched him rush down the sand dunes toward the other boat. This time it was one step closer and five steps back. But at least he’d said it. She had no idea how to get through his fear of failure, but she would figure it out. Now that she knew he loved her. Maybe Marc could throw some light on a guy’s thinking with this problem. She’d ask him.
The last place for her to search lay through a thick maritime forest of gum trees and loblolly pine interspersed with grasses and holly bushes. A glimpse of southern twayblade drew her deeper into the cool woods. She decided to relax and enjoy the walk even if she found nothing. It was a beautiful July day, and the sound of birds twittering in the trees drained all her tension away. She inhaled the fragrant scent of forest. Maybe she could even forget about Josh’s hurtful behavior for a few minutes.
She wound through the trees and stood at the edge of a small clearing. A movement on the other side caught her eye. The figure was half hidden in the shadows, but something about the other person struck her as furtive.
Sara moved as quietly as she could to the left to circle around to see what was going on. The glimpse of a red top kept her oriented as to where to head. Twenty feet away, she stopped behind a large oak tree and peered around.
Kalianne. What was Elin’s new aide doing out here alone? Sara stepped a bit closer and saw her bending over a crate. One very much like the one tossed overboard in the drug boat rescue. Kalianne lugged it toward a small cave in a rock face. She shoved it into the space, then heaped leaves in front of it.
Why would she be hiding it? Sara watched her a moment longer, then stepped out from the shelter of the trees. “Looks like you found what we were looking for.”
Kalianne whirled around and stepped in front of the opening. “What are you talking about? I was just out for a walk.” Her walking shoes were worn and caked with mud.
Really? Did she think Sara hadn’t seen what she’d just hidden? She pointed to the cave. “That crate. The Coast Guard is combing the area looking for it. It’s probably drugs from a boat we rescued last week. We knew there was another one out here.”
Kalianne shook her head. “It’s just some stuff Ruby asked me to hide for her. You know how old people can be.”
“Let me just take a look, okay?” Sara walked toward her.
Kalianne stayed put in front of the crate. “I can’t let you look at it. It would be a breach of Ruby’s privacy.”
“I know Ruby much better than you do, and I know she wouldn’t mind.” Sara tried to walk around the
other woman, but Kalianne stepped to the left to block her again. “Kalianne, you will not stop me from looking at that crate. If you resist, I’ll call for assistance. I’m not the only Coastie out here looking for this evidence. Now let me pass.”
Kalianne’s eyes were desperate, but she stepped aside. “Suit yourself.”
Sara was bending toward the crate when something in the woman’s deceptively mild tone warned her. She turned and started to stand, but she was too late. Kalianne brought up a large rock in her hand and smashed it into the side of Sara’s head.
Bright flashes of color and light exploded in Sara’s vision, and she crumpled to the ground, smelling the scent of mud and leaves as darkness claimed her.
Kimberly Bussey’s house sat in the middle of a block of wellmanicured lawns and stately, sweeping driveways. Marc parked in front of a porch with massive white pillars. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but I hadn’t thought she came from money.”
Elin released her seat belt. “I guess it’s because the Watsons are middle class so we assumed Ryan was as well.” She opened her door and got out.
Marc did the same and joined her at the bottom of the wide stone steps to the front porch. “There’s a Corvette in front of the garage. A new one. Wonder if it’s hers.”
“She might live here with her parents.”
“I doubt it. She has to be forty by now or near there. You wouldn’t think she’d be living with her parents at that age.” He mounted the steps and pressed the doorbell. Elin stood close enough behind him he could feel her breath stir the back of his neck. He moved a fraction of an inch closer to the door. He refused to let his thoughts wander.
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