“Michelle?”
“He didn’t think it was your real name. He said he called you by that name twice and you never responded.” He paused. “He also said you seemed like you were afraid all the time.”
“Afraid? Of what?”
“That he didn’t know.”
Demi drew in a deep breath. “I need to go to that hotel. I need to see it, see the room. Maybe that will trigger my memory.”
“I agree,” Charles said, “but you’re not going alone. I’ll go with you.”
“When?”
He rubbed his chin. He knew she was anxious to get to that hotel. He didn’t blame her. “I have the rehearsal dinner tonight and the wedding tomorrow.”
“I hate to ask you to take me on Sunday.”
Charles looked at his brother. “Why don’t we call and see when he’s going to be there?”
“Good idea,” Owen said. He pulled out his phone. “I’ve got the number right here.” He put the phone on speaker.
“Springfield Hotel.”
“This is Detective Owen Fitzgerald in Fitzgerald Bay. I spoke with you earlier.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When would be a good time for us to come by and pick up Ms… .uh…Smith’s things?”
“I’m getting ready to leave in a few minutes to go out of town again for a funeral. I’ll be back Monday morning.”
“We’ll see you then.”
Owen hung up and Charles lifted a brow at Demi. “We’ll go first thing Monday morning. Is that all right?”
He could see the longing on her face and felt terrible asking her to wait a few more days, but he couldn’t leave yet—and he sure didn’t want her going alone.
“I could go myself, take the bus,” she said. “I really don’t want to put anyone out.”
“No!” Charles shouted the word and she blinked. He calmed his voice. “Sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. You need someone with you.” He pulled in a breath. “Just…please…let me go with you.”
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally nodded. “Okay. I don’t really want to go by myself anyway. I suppose waiting a couple more days won’t hurt anything.”
“Great.”
The look of hopeful anticipation on her face caused mixed feelings and emotions to swirl through him. At first he couldn’t figure out what was wrong, then realization hit him.
Once Demi discovered who she was, what if she didn’t need—or want—him anymore?
FOURTEEN
Demi grabbed her light jacket from the closet and her keys from the kitchen counter. Hurrying from the apartment, she waved to the officer assigned to watch her. He stepped out of the cruiser. “Everything all right, ma’am?”
“Yes, I just decided I wanted to take a walk on the beach. Is that okay?”
Hesitation made the man pause before he said, “I think it should be. I’ll follow behind you. As long as you’re not out of my sight.”
Demi thought about the numerous hiding places along the rocks near Charles’s house. She thought about the shots that had been fired from the building overlooking the park. Would someone try to shoot at her if she went on the beach? But the person had been aiming at Charles, not her.
Squaring her shoulders, she determined the man wouldn’t make her a prisoner in her own home. “I promise to stay within your sight. I just want to walk on the beach a little. Do some thinking.”
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift. It’ll be safer than that bicycle.”
She smiled. The whole town knew she didn’t drive. Demi climbed in the cruiser and participated in the small talk until he pulled into the parking area with beach access. It was farther down from Charles’s house, an area she hadn’t yet explored. But she noticed the clear view of the beach. The officer wouldn’t have any trouble keeping an eye on her. And she didn’t plan to go far anyway.
Climbing out, she said, “Thanks. I won’t be too long.”
“Take your time.”
Demi followed the path to the beach, noting she still felt like she was walking around with a big old target on her back. Although why someone would want to single her out to terrify, she couldn’t fathom. The hotel clerk had said she’d seemed afraid, that she’d paid her bill daily. To her that sounded like someone who wasn’t sure if she would be staying in the same place from one day to the next.
So was she running from someone?
Had she committed some crime and was running from the police? But her fingerprints hadn’t turned up anything so she really didn’t think she was a criminal.
Shuddering at the thought, lost in her thoughts, she almost didn’t see the young woman until she was nearly upon her. It was the woman from the café, Olivia Henry’s cousin, Meghan.
“Oh, hello.”
“Hi.” The tall woman with the hazel eyes and blond hair offered a cautious smile.
“Sorry, I was lost in my own world. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” A pause. “How is the nanny job working out?”
“It’s working out well, thanks.”
“Oh.” The woman fidgeted for a moment then asked, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“No, I suppose that’s fine. What kind of questions?”
“Don’t you think it’s possible that Charles killed her?”
Demi didn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely not.”
Meghan eyed her. “You sound very sure about that.”
“He didn’t do it. I know I’ve only known him for a few weeks, but I have no doubts about him on that particular issue.”
Meghan nodded. “I appreciate that.”
“But you don’t believe me?”
The woman shrugged, a sad, grief-filled movement that made Demi’s heart ache. “I don’t know. I’ve watched him from afar, I’ve heard the townspeople talk about him, so I’ve gotten conflicting information.”
“I suppose you’re keeping up with the investigation?”
Meghan’s jaw tightened. “Every step of the way.”
On impulse, Demi reached out and took the woman’s hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, but it wasn’t Charles who killed her.”
Meghan squeezed her hand then dropped it with a sigh. “Thanks.”
Then Meghan turned and walked back the way she’d come. Demi watched her go and prayed they would find Olivia’s murderer before too much longer. Certainly before the person had the opportunity to kill again.
* * *
Charles paced the floor at the church. Last night the rehearsal had gone off without a hitch. Security ensured no one bothered the happy couple and his children were fully entertained by the other children involved in the wedding.
The whole process brought back memories of his own wedding. A lot of flash, a lot of money and very little substance if Kathleen could walk out on him and their children so easily. Her unfaithfulness was a sore spot that still chafed if he thought about it too long.
Which he’d been doing ever since finding the picture of his father with another woman. And a baby. His mistress and child out of wedlock?
Did he believe that?
Strangely enough, he did. Even with no concrete proof other than the picture and how close the couple stood, their expressions, the look in their eyes, Charles knew in his gut it was true.
His father had cheated on his mother.
The thought made his blood boil. Anger with his father wanted to surface, but Charles held it back. If he let it out, he’d cause friction at the wedding. And there was no way he was doing that. Especially without knowing for certain that it was true.
He and Owen would confront their father at the right time in the right way. And soon. After the wedding.
Right now, he kept an eye out for Demi, anxious to see her, to reassure himself that she was fine. Of course, if she wasn’t fine, he would know about it, so he could relax. Right? At least that’s what he told himself.
“Ready to do this thing?”
He looked up to see Ryan, Owen and his father standing in the door. Owen looked tense. He knew he was thinking about the photo. So was Charles. He kept his voice light. They had so many questions for Aiden. If he had an affair. Who the woman was. Did they have a half sibling? “I’m ready, but what about Douglas?”
“He’s chomping at the bit,” Aiden said. “Paige has your little ones under control for now. No guarantee on how long that’ll last.”
Charles laughed. “True.” He looked at the gathering crowd. “Is Demi here?”
“Officer Bolton just delivered her safe and sound. She’s sitting with the family.”
Charles felt that weight slide from his shoulders. “Good, thanks.”
“Now, let’s go round up Douglas and get this thing done.”
Within thirty minutes, Charles was standing up in front of the crowd, his eyes scanning, his senses alert. Even though he could see how tight security was, it didn’t stop him from keeping a keen eye out for trouble. Every so often, his gaze would land on Demi and he’d feel a jolt in the vicinity of his heart.
Douglas and Merry had decided to place his mother’s picture on the organ and Charles couldn’t help staring at it, wondering if she ever knew her husband had been unfaithful. If she had, she’d obviously forgiven him and they’d worked through it. However, Charles felt his anger stir.
Forcing himself to pay attention to the service, he was relieved when the minister finally pronounced his brother lawfully wed and no one had disrupted the nuptials.
Breathing a sigh of relief, but not relaxing his guard, he felt the comfortable weight of the pistol in his shoulder holster. Until Olivia’s murderer was caught, Charles wouldn’t go anywhere without the weapon.
As the wedding party dispersed, Charles wondered what it would be like to be married to Demi. He could envision her in a white gown and—
Cutting off those thoughts for now, he promised himself he’d revisit them when the time was right.
As they waited for the photographer to set up his equipment, Charles motioned for Demi to stay. She nodded and settled back into the pew.
As soon as the pictures were finished, they would make their way to Connelly’s Catch for the reception.
Finally, he saw his dad standing alone, taking in the merriment. The look on his father’s face made Charles’s gut burn with resentment. What right did he have to be so proud?
His eye caught Owen’s. Owen’s expression said he was thinking about the photo, as well. Charles leaned down and whispered in Demi’s ear, “Excuse me a moment, will you?”
“Sure.” Demi raised a brow as though to ask if everything was all right. He patted her shoulder to silently reassure her and she turned back to listen to Fiona.
He hadn’t shared with her about the picture and what he and Owen suspected. He wouldn’t until he had the truth from his father’s lips.
He slipped up beside Owen. “Before or after the pictures?”
“After. No sense in ruining them for Douglas and Merry.”
Another pause then Charles asked in a low voice, “What do you really think? Did Dad have an affair? A child with another woman? You saw the pictures.”
In an equally soft tone, Owen said, “My gut says yes.”
And then there was no more time for talk. Charles posed and smiled until his cheek muscles spasmed. Brianne and Aaron finally tired and protested loud enough that the photographer agreed he had enough pictures and they could all be dismissed.
Driving the short distance to Connolly’s Catch, Charles kept an eye on the surrounding traffic. Demi teased Brianne and Aaron, and Charles struggled with what he would say to his father. How did one confront one’s parent about his infidelity?
“Charles? Are you all right? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“I’m… I need to talk to my father about something unpleasant and I’m not looking forward to it.”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” He forced a smile. “Come on, let’s get something to eat, I’m starved.”
They got the kids and made their way into the restaurant. Tantalizing smells made his stomach growl even more, although it was a bit early for supper.
Music played. Douglas and Merry danced a slow dance in the center of the dance floor. The lovesick look on his brother’s face made Charles glance at Demi. She took everything in, delight written in her eyes.
Soon, she might get her memory back. The question from the other day crossed his mind. As much as he wanted her to heal and know who she was, where would he fit in her life once she did? Disgusted with his selfishness, he forced the insecurity from his thoughts and caught Owen’s eye.
Owen walked over, followed by Victoria. “What’s going on?” she asked. “I saw that look you two exchanged.”
“We’re going to talk to Dad about that picture,” Charles said.
Victoria frowned. “Let me see it again. I know I’ve seen it somewhere—” She broke off and paled.
Charles lasered in on her. “You remembered where you saw it.”
She nodded, a slow nod that conveyed her reluctance to tell him what she was thinking. “Come on, Victoria. What is it?”
Her gaze darted to Charles’s father who still stood apart from the festivities. “I’m pretty sure that’s the picture Olivia gave me to hang on the wall in the café.”
Charles felt his heart slam into his ribs. “Olivia? She has something to do with this?”
Another wide-eyed nod and a nervous glance at Aiden. “Olivia came into the café one day shortly before she died and handed me a copy of this picture. She asked me to hang it on the wall—”
At her pause, Owen pushed her. “Why?”
“To honor the memory of…her parents.”
Charles froze. “Olivia’s parents?”
“Yes,” Victoria whispered.
Charles’s gut churned. If what Victoria said was true, not only had Olivia been his nanny, she’d also been his half sister. He almost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. One look at Owen’s white face said his brother was having the same problem.
“I’m sorry,” Victoria said, “but I’m absolutely positive that’s what she said.”
“And it’s the same picture.”
“Yes.”
“Olivia knew,” Charles muttered. “That’s why she came to Fitzgerald Bay.” He looked at Owen and Victoria. “She never said a word.”
Owen ran a hand through his hair and drew in a ragged breath. “Unfortunately, if Dad knew who Olivia was—and I highly suspect he did—we now have another suspect in Olivia’s murder.”
“Let’s go,” Charles said.
The man was alone, still observing the crowd around him. Together, they approached. “Talk to you a minute?” Charles asked.
Aiden smiled. Then frowned as he discerned the seriousness of their expressions. “What is it?”
Owen simply reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo. “This.”
Aiden looked at it. His face paled and Charles saw him swallow hard before he asked, “Where did you get this?”
“We found it in your tackle box the day we went to get that fishing rod for Demi.”
Aiden swiped a hand across his lips and cleared his throat. “I see.”
“Yeah,” Charles said. “We see, too.”
“Did you kill Olivia, Dad?” Owen asked in a low voice.
Their father jerked and choked. Shock made his pupils dilate. “What? No, I…
No. How can you even ask that?”
“You certainly have motive.” Charles kept his voice even while Owen pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Come with me,” Aiden ordered, having regained some of his composure.
“Where?”
“Someplace private and we won’t be overheard.”
* * *
Demi watched Charles walk from the main part of the restaurant into a back room with his brother and father. They looked so serious she almost got up and followed, but decided it wasn’t her business. Charles would fill her in when he could.
Leaning over, she said to Fiona, “I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.”
Demi got up and made her way in the direction the sign pointed. As she walked, several people welcomed her. The small hall with the restrooms at the end was empty. Catching her breath, she started down toward the women’s room and felt the hairs on the back of her neck lift.
Spinning, she saw no one.
But the feeling that someone was watching her was very strong. So strong she shivered.
Her eyes scanned the crowd beyond the hall and saw nothing that should concern her.
She turned back to enter the bathroom.
Then looked behind her once more.
A young man dressed in a pin-striped suit stood there watching her.
Demi pushed open the door to the bathroom and rushed inside. She let it close behind her, feeling her heart thump against her chest.
Who was he? Why was he watching her?
A noise in the stall behind her told her that she wasn’t alone. Relief filled her and she took a deep breath as she washed her hands.
The occupant of the stall came out and smiled. “It was a beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?”
“It sure was.”
Demi decided to follow the woman out. She wanted the company.
As they left the ladies’ room, Demi’s heart slowed as she gazed on the empty hall.
As she and the woman in front of her passed a section of the hall that branched off, a hand reached out and grasped her upper arm.
A scream welled in her throat only to die a quick death when a voice asked, “Demi?”
The Black Sheep's Redemption Page 13
