Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  “You mean you didn’t hear?” Heather said, turning to Lucy. “The woman who was killed down at the marina was Paige Delaney.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Lucy turned on Marsha. “Did you know about this?”

  “Of course she knew,” Scout said impatiently. “We all knew that. But I still don’t understand. Why is it a relief? And what does it have to do with Nick?”

  “It’s not a relief! Jeez. Just ‘cause I hated the woman, doesn’t mean I wanted her dead!” Lucy looked at Scout consideringly for a moment, then shrugged. “She and Nick sort of dated, for a while.”

  “They what?” Scout’s jaw dropped. “No wonder Dan looked at me funny when I told him.”

  “Wait a minute,” Lucy scowled at Scout. “Are you telling me Dan knows, too?”

  Marsha winced as both Scout and Lucy turned to frown at her.

  “You know Marsha, while you were busy spilling the beans on Saturday, you could have mentioned something about this,” Scout said coldly. “What were you thinking?”

  “Gee, Scout, maybe she was afraid you’d overreact?” Lucy’s voice was dangerously soft. “At least she told you who was murdered, though.”

  “Yeah, big deal. She told everyone.” Scout glared at Marsha. “You know, it would be really nice if someone would bring me up-to-speed on whatever else I might have missed in the last couple of decades.”

  Marsha saw Siobhan sink back into her chair. All five women stared at her expectantly. “Look, I...” She didn’t have a thought in the world about how to go on. She was just wishing for an interruption when—

  “Excuse the interruption, ladies. But I just need to borrow Marsha for a minute or two, if I could.” Sam.

  His voice, as usual, sank right into her bones. She couldn’t believe he’d managed to sneak up on her again. Be careful what you wish for, indeed.

  She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, even before she turned to face him. He, of course, looked not the slightest bit ill at ease. Maybe he saw nothing strange about his behavior the night before? Maybe breaking things off in the middle of a kiss to make stupid accusations and stomp off in anger was how everyone from New York behaved?

  Angry as she wanted to be with him, she still couldn’t help but notice how awfully good he was looking this morning, dressed in yet another black outfit. Do not go there, she warned herself sternly. The man is nothing but trouble.

  She had no idea whether he was offering her salvation from her current predicament, or an invitation to jump out of the frying pan. But one thing was certain, whatever he wanted to say to her, she didn’t want the others to overhear it. She got to her feet.

  “Well?” she asked after they’d moved far away enough from the table to be out of earshot.

  “Here,” he said, holding out the book he’d been carrying. “I dug out that book I’d told you about last night.” He paused, waiting until she reluctantly reached out and took it from him. He actually did look just a little ill at ease, she thought as, against all her better judgment, she felt herself begin to thaw. “I think you’ll find it interesting. At least, I hope you will.”

  “Thank you.” She transferred her gaze to the book in her hands. Secret Harmonies, Fibonacci and the Stock Market. “I’ll look forward to reading it.”

  “Good. Uh, listen,” he began, then stopped again, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She kept her eyes glued to the book, while he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said at last. His voice, low and deep, set her heart to pounding. “Let me take you to lunch today to make up for it?”

  “That’s really not necessary.” She remembered the feel of him pressed against her, his hands tangled up in her hair, his lips caressing her throat. She wondered if he was sorry about that part, too.

  “I think it is. And also, I need to ask you for a favor.”

  “What kind of favor?” Startled, she looked up at him again. He was smiling, and she really wished he would quit that.

  “Let me take you to lunch and I’ll explain it.”

  Clearly, she wasn’t going to get anywhere by arguing with him, and the longer she stood here discussing things with him, the more she’d have to explain to her friends. Besides... she did have to eat sometime, didn’t she? “Okay fine. If you want... why don’t you meet me here at about twelve thirty?”

  “Sounds perfect.” He reached out and covered one of her hands with his. “Thanks, Marsha.”

  “Sure. No problem,” she said, stepping back quickly, just in case he decided to kiss her again. She could already feel five pairs of eyes boring into her back; there was no way she wanted to have to explain that to them, as well. “I’ve got to get back now... I’ll see you later.”

  Marsha sat back down at the table, conscious that all conversation had ceased. Her friends were all watching her, as if waiting for her to say something. But damn it, she didn’t feel like talking. She took a sip of tea and made a face. She hadn’t really been in the mood today for lemongrass, even when it had been hot. She’d only ordered it out of a perverse desire for the citrusy smell of it, but lemongrass didn’t really smell like lemon blossoms. She looked around for a waitress, maybe she’d order a pot of Lapsang Souchong. She could do with something a little bracing, at the moment. But the waitresses were all busy elsewhere.

  Sometimes running this place by all herself was just plain impossible. She missed Celeste.

  Celeste would have done a much better job of scheduling waitresses who knew what they were doing. And she’d probably have already ordered a fresh pot of tea for the table. Celeste would have known better than to stare at her right now, too, like the others were still doing. She would never have pried into what was obviously something Marsha didn’t want to talk about.

  Of course, as she’d known for the past several years, Celeste had been in love with her. And although that was not something they’d talked very much about either, it probably explained why neither of them would have felt comfortable discussing her feelings for some man who might or might not be interested in her romantically.

  Lucy, of course, had no such scruples. “So? What was that all about?” she demanded when the silence had continued for several minutes. “You don’t really expect me to believe you’re actually interested in this guy, do you?”

  “Did I say I was interested?” Marsha waved the book at her. “He just came by to lend me this book we’d talked about.”

  “Talked when? Saturday night? I don’t remember you two talking about any books.”

  “No, Lucy, it wasn’t Saturday. If you really have to know, I talked to him yesterday, when I went out to the cabin to pack up some of Celeste’s things.”

  She looked around, saw disbelief and speculation gleaming in her friends’ eyes, and hurried to elaborate. “I figure with the rent he’s paying, he at least deserves a little closet space. Don’t you think?”

  “That guy is staying in Celeste’s cabin now?” Heather looked affronted.

  She probably was, Marsha reflected wearily.

  “Who is he, anyway?”

  “I don’t know.” Marsha sipped some more cold tea. “He’s a writer – or something to do with the stock market, I think. He’s from New York. He rides a motorcycle and he wears a lot of black. That’s just about all I know.” That, and the fact that just thinking about the way he kisses is making my toes curl...

  “I didn’t realize you were planning to rent the cabin this soon.” Ginny sounded concerned. “Forgive me, Marsha, but are you sure you’re ready to do that?”

  Marsha sighed. “No, Ginny, probably not. I hadn’t exactly planned to, yet. I just forgot to tell Camille that. She’s the one who rented it. I didn’t find out about it until he showed up at the marina Saturday.”

  “And they’ve been hanging all over each other ever since,” Scout said, smiling meaningfully at Lucy. “I don’t care what you say, Luce. You weren’t with them all Saturday afternoon like I was.”

  “I have to say, Mars
ha, I didn’t think either or you looked all that disinterested just now,” Siobhan agreed. “I think there’s something you’re not telling us.”

  “Look, there is no story here.” Surely not after last night. She just managed to stop herself before she asked what it was they’d been talking about before he’d interrupted them. Oh, right. Now she remembered. They’d been about to discuss how angry Lucy and Scout were with her. No point in bringing that back up. But as she searched around for new topics, she only came up with one that was interesting enough to deflect everyone’s attention away from her. And she couldn’t do that to Siobhan.

  Unfortunately, Scout must have picked up on her thoughts. And, as she herself had pointed out earlier, she’d been out of the loop a little too long.

  “Hey, that reminds me,” Scout said suddenly. “Siobhan, I couldn’t believe who we ran into at church yesterday.”

  “So, Siobhan how’s everything with you these days?” Lucy interrupted swiftly, “The girls said you have a lot of new fish in the aquarium – anything interesting?”

  “You know, speaking of the cabin, I really do need to get someone to go out there and cut the grass for me,” Marsha said. “Siobhan, you wouldn’t know anyone who’d be interested in that, do you?”

  But neither of them were quite quick enough.

  “Who did you see, Scout?” Siobhan asked innocently.

  Marsha sighed again. Oh, shit. What could you expect from a Monday morning, anyway?

  * * *

  Nick stood at the edge of the bluff behind the Buena Vista Bar and Grill and watched the flight of geese overhead. The sky was a deep cerulean blue and a brisk wind blew the scents of sage, chamise and blueblossom up over the cliffs. It had been a while since he’d felt the need to come out here. But this morning, after he’d dropped Kate off at school, he’d known he couldn’t go straight to work, and going home meant maybe having another confrontation with his mother. So instead, he’d headed for the coast. To the same place he always came when he needed to be alone.

  He hadn’t been alone the last time he was here, though, he thought longingly. He had had Scout with him then. He wished she was here now, but since he couldn’t even talk to her about what was bothering him, what would be the point?

  He took another drag from his cigarette, and exhaled slowly. He didn’t want to think about Scout, or any of the things they couldn’t discuss at this moment. So instead, he thought about the geese.

  They were monogamous. He was pretty sure he’d been taught that somewhere along the line. They were vegetarians. They returned to the same nesting sites, year after year. They mated for life. Like swans and storks and... owls maybe? And wolves.

  Not people, though. Most people were too damn complicated for so simple a concept as fidelity.

  He could hear the crashing sound of the sea as it surged against the rocks that lined the shore, and he leaned forward to watch. Smooth, glass-green swells rose and fell and shattered at the foot of the cliffs, sending up clouds of mist. The ocean was rough today, and that meant sleeper waves, those unpredictable, large waves that swept up out of nowhere to drag the unwary to their deaths. He was safe from them up here on the bluff, of course. At least, he thought he was. But wasn’t that always the way it was with danger?

  He headed back toward his car where that damn file box was still stashed in the trunk. It was time to get to work. Time to face a few facts. Time to deal with the mess he’d been handed.

  Alone.

  There’d been plenty of times in his life when he’d wanted or needed another person for either companionship or assistance. This wasn’t one of them.

  He’d known – he’d always known – that what he and Scout had together was precious and rare, but he hadn’t ever realized just how rare. Now he did, and the knowledge was tearing him apart.

  Pretty soon now, he’d have to share some of that knowledge. And when he did? How many other people would be torn apart?

  There were a lot of ways to betray the people you cared about, and while keeping quiet when you’d found out something they had every right to know was maybe not the worst of them, it was still pretty bad. Not that confronting people with the kind of news that could wreck their lives was much of an improvement.

  He retrieved the box, slammed the trunk shut, and headed back to the diner. The Buena Vista, with its tall, red vinyl booths and anonymous atmosphere, was as good a place as any to confront unpleasant truths. It was also about as close to private as he was going to find around Oberon.

  * * *

  Sam glanced appreciatively around the inside of the van as Marsha navigated through the narrow, twisting streets of town. It looked pretty much as he’d suspected it would. The front seats were covered with rather venerable looking sheepskin seat covers, while the rest of the interior had been wrapped, ceiling to floor, in rust-colored shag carpeting. Assorted strings of beads hung from the rear view mirror and the rear windows were papered over in a stained-glass-patterned contact paper that he doubted had been manufactured anytime in the last twenty years. As he’d also suspected, the back seat had been removed at some point, and replaced with a mattress covered with a bright cotton spread.

  He hadn’t been surprised when she insisted on doing the driving, although he felt about equal parts relieved and regretful that there would be no repeat of Saturday night’s experience – especially when he considered that mattress.

  Most of all, he was just plain relieved that she’d agreed to go out with him.

  Last night, when he’d finally forced himself to calm down enough to think, it occurred to him that he might have screwed up royally by losing his temper with her. He shouldn’t have taken her sudden panic personally. There could have been any number of reasons why she’d acted so strangely. He was probably being foolish, expecting her to respond normally to anything. Besides, he still needed her van.

  And despite the obvious insanity of pursuing a relationship with her at a time when he should be focusing all of his attention on clearing his name and saving his ass, he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.

  Not that she was giving him any encouragement in that regard. She’d been subdued and distant at the store this morning and, since getting into the van she’d barely said two words to him. Somehow, he didn’t think it was because she was the kind of nervous driver who can’t seem to talk and drive at the same time.

  “Where are we going anyway?” he asked finally, when he noticed she’d turned the van onto the coast road and was headed away from town.

  “There’s a little place on the coast I thought you’d like. It’s got a great view of the Bay, and it’s usually not too crowded.”

  Which, if he was interpreting her correctly, meant they probably wouldn’t run into any of her friends there. Anger stirred to life inside him. He was suddenly certain that a big part of her motivation for getting out of town was to avoid being seen by anyone she knew.

  “Are you by any chance embarrassed to be seen with me today?” he asked, only about half humorously. He hadn’t missed the speculative looks the other women had exchanged when he’d interrupted them this morning, either. Or her obvious discomfort at seeing him there.

  He’d gotten the distinct impression that the only reason she’d agreed to have lunch with him was to get him out of her shop again as quickly as possible. The idea had not done great things for his ego.

  She flushed, then frowned. Her eyes remained focused on the road ahead. “Embarrassed? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. So, what is this favor you wanted to ask me for, anyway?”

  Nice counterattack, he thought, turning to stare out the window at the green and gold landscape flashing by them. And one he should have anticipated. He’d planned to ease his way into the topic. Over dessert, perhaps, when she might be feeling a little more receptive. He should’ve figured she wouldn’t let him get away with something like that. He really had to stop playing games with this woman, because somehow or
another she always managed to come out ahead.

  He sighed. “We don’t really need to discuss that right now, do we?”

  “I think we should,” she answered very coolly, and his heart sank.

  But only a little. So the lady was going to be a hard sell, was she? That was okay; he was a hell of a negotiator, and he’d cut his teeth on barracudas ten times tougher than she could ever be. “I have a lot of computer equipment that I’ve rented,” he told her. “I need to get it out to the cabin, and I’d like to do that today.” He took a deep breath and took the plunge. “I was hoping you’d let me borrow your van for the afternoon.”

  “Computer equipment?” She glanced at him quickly. “What kind of – do you know a lot about computers?”

  “I know enough.” He shrugged. “It’s not really a lot of stuff. Just a chassis, a couple of monitors and a printer. But it’s too much for my bike, obviously, and—”

  “And that, uh... that’s the favor you wanted?”

  “That’s it.”

  Marsha felt a small rush of panic; her hands tightened possessively on the steering wheel. Borrow her van? He could have no idea what he was asking. She’d had this van forever. She knew its moods and its idiosyncrasies. She trusted it… it was just about the only vehicle she felt comfortable driving. It was old and it was funky, it had seen better days and lots of them, but to her it was more than a vehicle really, it was almost an extension of herself.

  And giving it to him, even for the afternoon, was almost like – well, she’d rather not even think of what it was like. And she was just about to tell him she couldn’t possibly do it, when she heard the words from yesterday’s gospel reading repeat themselves in her head. Give to everyone who asks of you, and from the one who takes what is yours do not demand it back.

  Shit. This was exactly why she didn’t go to church more often.

  It wasn’t fair. She was a good person, wasn’t she? Did she really have to be that good? She was quiet for a long time, fighting against what she knew she had to do. Hating it, and hating him for putting her in such a difficult position. But when the universe set signs that clear in the middle of your path, did you really have any choice but to pay attention? “Okay,” she sighed.