She gave a little shake of her head and got up. Hugon was a man with his feet firmly planted on the ground. He would have made sure she didn’t get too full of herself. An entire wall of closets caught her attention, and she crossed the large room and pulled open one of the doors. It opened into a space larger than her bedroom in Bangor. Hatboxes and other types of boxes were stacked on shelves at the back. She thought this closet would have been empty. Whose bedroom was this?
She’d just started for the back of the closet when she heard a peck at the door. Her heart leaped into her throat. Had her father taken a turn for the worse? And when had she started to think of him as her father and not as her biological father?
She hurried to the door and yanked it open, then sagged with relief. “Kevin, thank goodness. I was afraid something had happened to my father.” Motioning him to come in, she turned back to the closet. “Come see what I found. I was just about to investigate. And what are you doing wandering the halls so late?”
“I was lonely in that huge room. Wow, this place is something.” He shut the door behind him and followed her. “I’ve never seen a closet this big.”
“Me neither. And look at these old hatboxes. People haven’t worn hats since the sixties. I wonder if maybe they belonged to my grandmother.” She went back to the shelves and lifted down a box, then set it on the carpet and opened the lid.
The scent of lilac wafted to her nose as she pushed aside tissue paper to reveal a pillbox hat, à la Jackie Kennedy. She nearly squealed with delight. “I wonder if the owner wore it to the White House or just emulated Mrs. Kennedy? It’s beautiful.” The lovely blue hat looked unworn and pristine. She pulled down another box and another until hats of all shapes were heaped around her.
Grinning, Kevin leaned against the doorway and watched her. “You’re like a kid at Christmas. What delights you so much about the hats?”
“I’ve seen all the pictures from the fifties and sixties in history books. The ladies were so classy and elegant. It’s almost like stepping back into an episode of Leave It to Beaver. It makes me wonder if my birth parents were like that, all calm reason and smiling.”
“Your own mom and dad were pretty great.”
“Of course they were. I didn’t mean that. But I’m faced with the fact that my life could have taken another path if things had been different. Not that I wanted that path, but it’s intriguing to consider, don’t you think?” She tried on the blue hat and stared at herself in the full-length floor mirror. A different woman looked back. One with style and flair—if she only squinted right and didn’t look at her jeans and T-shirt.
He straightened and his grin vanished. In a couple of steps he was in front of her. He plucked the hat from her head, then dropped it to a chair before pulling her into his arms. “If you’d lived here all your life, we never would have met. I would have been poorer for it. Knowing you has made me a better person.”
She leaned her head against his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat under her ear. “I doubt that.”
“I used to watch you even before we were old enough to date. You were the kid who stuck up for the fat boy being bullied. You always helped the kid who was struggling with his homework, and you never let what people thought about you change how you behaved. And after we started dating and I got to see you at home, I loved the way your family was so close. You’d walk in the door and tell your mother every detail of your day. And what’s more, she was interested. I didn’t have that at home. It made me resolve to be that kind of parent when I was grown up. Your example made me quit the football team even though it made my dad mad. It made me start trying to talk more to my mom.”
“How is it that I never knew all this?”
He pressed his lips against her hair. “A guy doesn’t like to admit he has areas he needs to change, especially a perceived jock like me. Your parents raised you well, Mal.”
“I know.” She looked down at all the hats. “I wonder if my father would let me have some of them. Or if he would at least tell me who they belonged to. Maybe I can bring hats back in fashion.”
He tipped her face up, and his lips came close enough she could feel the whisper of his breath. “I think he’d do anything for you right now. Just like I would.”
Almost without realizing it, she closed her eyes and lifted her face to meet his kiss. His embrace was like a haven, a place she wished she could stay in forever.
The commotion in the halls took awhile to penetrate Mallory’s sleep. She lay on her side snuggled in a down comforter as soft as a baby’s breath, and she didn’t want to wake up. Then the pounding at her door made her eyes snap open, and she sat up in bed.
Her pajamas fully covered her, so she ran to the door and threw it open to see her father’s nurse standing in the doorway in her nightgown. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mr. Hugon. He’s dead.” The woman’s voice wobbled, and a tear tracked down her face. She ran her hand through her hair, making it stand up on end in a way that emphasized the tragedy.
Mallory’s throat tightened, and she couldn’t speak for a long moment. Her eyes burned, and she bit her wobbling lip. “I’m so sorry. He seemed a good man.”
“He was the best. D-do you want to see him before the funeral home comes? You know, to say good-bye?”
Mallory took a step back and nearly shook her head, then she inhaled and nodded. “Thank you. I’d like to pay my respects. He made sure I had a good life, and I’m thankful for that.”
Following the nurse down the wide halls left her confused. She’d never find her way back without a guide. The door to her father’s room stood open, and Richard stood on the right side of the bed. He wore jeans and a loose-collared shirt. His hair looked uncombed as if he’d rushed here right out of bed.
She slanted a glance at the bedside clock. Three in the morning. No wonder she felt fuzzy and disoriented. “Could you wake Kevin, please?”
The nurse nodded and rushed away. Mallory advanced into the room and went to the left side of the bed. Tears flooded her eyes as she stared at her father’s peaceful face. “I wish I’d gotten to know him better.”
“There was no one like him,” Richard said softly. “I’m going to miss him.”
She turned at the sound of footsteps rushing down the hall. Dressed in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, Kevin came into the room. He stopped when he saw her father lying in the bed, then stepped to her side and slipped his arm around her waist.
She leaned against him, taking strength from his presence. “He’s gone.”
“I’m sorry, Mal.”
“Me too.” She said a silent good-bye to Thad Hugon, the man who had given her life.
Richard cleared his throat. “This might not be the time to bring this up, but your father drew up a will leaving you quite a lot of money. I brought it with me for him to sign, but he was too weak last night after dinner and I’d planned to bring it over this morning. Because it’s unsigned, there isn’t a lot I can do.”
“I never wanted his money. I’m just glad I got a chance to meet him before it was too late. It nearly was. It would have been if Kevin hadn’t found out who he was.”
“Good luck indeed.” Richard nodded. “I know it made his last hours much happier. He was able to die in peace.”
“He doesn’t appear to have died in pain,” Kevin said.
“The nurse told me she’d given him a shot for pain about an hour before she found him dead.”
Mallory’s throat tightened, and she suddenly didn’t want to be here any longer. The meeting with her father had gone better than she’d ever dared dream, but they were no closer to figuring out who had targeted her mom and dad or finding out who had burned down Mermaid Cottage. And she’d given away a little piece of her heart to the man in the bed.
She moved out of Kevin’s grip. “I could use some coffee. There’s no going back to sleep now. How about the rest of you?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” Kevin took her hand and walked wit
h her toward the door.
“I should get back to tell DeAnn what has happened, but I could delay long enough for coffee.” Richard followed them and shut the door behind him. They walked in silence downstairs, and Richard pointed to the door past the staircases. “The kitchen is this way.”
Mallory followed his erect figure through the maze of rooms until they stood in the biggest kitchen she’d ever seen. There were marble counters on two islands, and a wooden one on two more. A length of quartz covered the cabinets against the wall, and she counted eight ovens and six cooktops. She spied a coffeepot in one corner and quickly found the grinder and coffee.
“There’s coffee cake here too.” Kevin lifted the glass cover off the cake on one of the marble-topped islands and carried it to the big wooden table by the window. Richard wandered after him and sank wearily into a chair.
“Is your work with my father’s companies over now?”
Richard shrugged. “Not quite. I’ll take care of executing his will. His partner is buying out Thad’s share of the companies. Thad has donated most of his money to others. He left your daughter a quarter of a million dollars for college. She should be able to go anywhere she chooses.”
The grandeur of her father’s gift made her catch her breath. “So much. I had no idea.” She poured the coffee into mugs and went to join the men.
“He was worth nearly one billion dollars.” Richard accepted the coffee cup she offered.
She couldn’t even wrap her head around that much money. And he’d given it all away. Her vision blurred with tears, and she swallowed hard. He’d been a good man, the best.
“What will happen to the family’s personal belongings?” she asked.
Richard took a sip of his coffee. “Sold at auction. Is there anything in particular you’d like? I’m sure your father would want you to have it.”
“In my bedroom closet there are tons of women’s hats stored. I’d love to have some of them. I assume they belonged to my grandmother?”
He nodded. “Most likely they were. Help yourself to anything of a personal nature like that. Thad would have been pleased that you cared.”
She smiled back at him. At least she’d have a few mementos of this side of her genealogy.
THIRTY-TWO
Mallory hadn’t had much to say as they took off from Boston in Claire’s small plane. The entire trip had saddened her, and Kevin almost wished he hadn’t suggested coming down here. Her shoulders rubbed his in the second-row seat, and she sat with four hatboxes heaped in her lap. Richard had urged her to take her father’s watch and class ring from college. She’d also come away with several picture albums.
Richard had been more than accommodating, but Kevin had been relieved to get out of his presence. The guy was a paragon, and DeAnn was lucky to have him.
Claire, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, glanced over at them as she banked the plane over Boston Harbor, then headed north. “Mom told me your birth mother changed her name and was looking for a job in Maine five years ago.”
The engine made it hard to hear, so Kevin leaned forward. “Did she remember the name?”
Claire shook her head and raised her voice. “She said she was using her middle name so that’s a place where your investigator can look. And she works in IT.”
“That’s a big help, Claire, thanks.” Mallory’s voice was subdued.
He shot her a glance, then stared down as Boston Harbor vanished from sight. “Penny for your thoughts.”
Mallory pulled a long swath of dark hair over her shoulder and settled more comfortably in her seat. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“They’re not worth that much.” Shuffling on the uncomfortable seat, he shifted until he could get his arm around her. “I was just thinking how nice it was that you got some of your father’s mementos.”
She hugged a hatbox to her chest. “I know it seems silly that I wanted these. I could see the amusement in Richard’s eyes, but I don’t care. They’re a tiny piece of my history, and I’ll treasure them.”
“I wish your father had had some idea of who killed your mom and dad.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d hoped he might have an idea about the money for the boat. I never got a chance to ask him about that. With his generosity, I can see where he would have happily bought them a boat.”
“Richard might be able to tell us. He handled all his legal affairs.”
She nodded and turned to look at the blue ocean. “He gave me his card. I’ll give him a call when we get home.”
He plucked her hand from its resting place atop a hatbox. “I like hearing you call my house home.” Her hand was so soft yet capable. He laced his fingers with hers.
“I can never thank you enough for giving us a place to stay. We would be back in Bangor now if not for you.”
Something about the formality of her words raised an alarm. It almost sounded like good-bye, but they had a lot of work ahead of them. They weren’t anywhere close to finding out who killed her parents. He bit his tongue and let her talk.
She turned away from the window and faced him. “I’ve been thinking that I may never know who killed them, and maybe it’s time to give up looking. I could spend my entire life searching for answers and find none. Just like Mom’s death. I thought it was because I distracted her when we argued and her boat ran out of fuel, but all along she’d died another way. Even if I pursue it, there’s no guarantee we will ever find the truth.”
“Someone burned down your house. I don’t think you’ll be safe until we find that person.”
“He knew we weren’t in there. I think he accomplished what he set out to do and destroyed whatever evidence he was after. There hasn’t been another attack on me at all.”
“Dixie out on Walker’s Roost was attacked because someone thought she’d implicated him in some way.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “That’s true. But there have been no prowlers around your house. If I quit poking around, whoever it is will relax. Haylie and I will be safe.”
“You don’t know that, Mal. Maybe he’s just biding his time, hoping you go back to Bangor where he can get to you. He might be afraid to show his hand while you’re at my house.”
Her dark eyes were troubled. “But how long can I put our lives on hold while we chase after an old mystery? Mom died fifteen years ago. That’s a long time, and I don’t think we’ll ever find out what really happened. And even Sheriff Colton wasn’t sure Dad was murdered. He only went along with our theory after the cottage burned down. But maybe the two things aren’t connected. Maybe the fire was all about burning up evidence.”
She’d put a lot of thought into this. “What kind of evidence, if not about your dad’s death?”
“Maybe about where he got the money for the boat. It could be anything. I’m just trying to think outside the box. We thought the two incidents had to be related, but maybe they aren’t.” She stared into his eyes. “I’m not the same girl I used to be. I don’t really belong here anymore. I see the whispers and glances when we go to town. Everyone remembers what happened to Mom. I’m as bad as a flatlander in their eyes.”
“You never used to care what people thought.”
“I know. I’m just not sure I can find that carefree girl you spoke of last night in the closet. I’m not sure she exists anymore. Guilt can change anyone.”
“But now you know it wasn’t your fault. Your mother was shot.”
“You’re forgetting my theory that she was stuck high and dry in the path of a drug runner. I still think that’s likely what happened.” She leaned her head back against his arm and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired.”
His gaze wandered over the planes and angles of her face. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, pale from lack of sleep but still beautiful. He wouldn’t let her walk out of his life again. Somehow he’d find a way to help rid her of the guilt she carried.
Ever since they’d gotten back from B
oston two days ago, Mallory had been quietly contemplating her options. She remained paralyzed, unsure what to do. Her heart wouldn’t let her walk away from Kevin without a fight, but she couldn’t quite embrace the idea of staying here forever, especially in the face of his family’s opposition.
May had come in with an abundance of spring flowers, and the gorgeous blue of the sky was echoed in the ocean. Saturday morning she packed a picnic lunch and told the girls they would visit Aunt Blanche, then head out for a day of canoeing. Kevin was going to meet them after a call to pick up a moose hit by a car. Carol had cried off, saying she had a new client’s social-media campaign to plan.
Fiona stuck her head out the front passenger-side window and barked at the birds as they passed. The girls talked in the backseat, and Mallory let her thoughts wander as she drove to her aunt’s. She had to make a decision soon. Haylie would be out of school in another few weeks, and if they were going back to Bangor, that would be the time to make a move.
What was the right thing to do? She’d prayed for wisdom, but she had no clear sense of direction yet.
After parking in front of her aunt’s house, she opened the door for the dog, then told the girls they could stay in the yard and play with her while she checked on Aunt Blanche. She didn’t intend to stay long, but she felt guilty that she didn’t look in on her more often.
She knocked at the door, then pushed it open when her aunt told her to come on in. She found Aunt Blanche in the kitchen taking a batch of cookies out of the oven. The sight and aroma of the chocolate chip cookies made her mouth water. “Can I have one?”
“It’ll burn your mouth.” But Aunt Blanche shoveled one off the spatula and onto a paper plate for her.
Mallory leaned on the surface of the Formica countertop that covered the island. It held the scars from many years of cookie making and pie dough rolling. She and her mother had come here every year to make goodies for Christmas, and by the time they left, the counter was piled high with cookies, pies, and candy. She missed those days.
Mermaid Moon Page 21
