by Sarah Fox
He closed his eyes briefly, and his shoulders relaxed, releasing tension I hadn’t noticed at first. “I’m so sorry, Marley.”
My heart aching, I tightened my grip on his hand and took a step closer. “I don’t even know if you have anything to be sorry for, but I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have stormed off the way I did. I just needed time to cool off.”
His grip on my hand was as firm as my own. “I never meant to hurt you, Marley.”
“I know,” I assured him. “I think it was the situation that hurt me more than anything you did.”
“Are you sure?” He searched my eyes with his blue ones.
I couldn’t hide anything from him when he looked at me that way, and I didn’t want to. “I don’t know,” I admitted, taking a second to find my next words. “I guess in a way it felt like you were making Alyssa a priority over me. Maybe that’s not fair of me, and maybe it was my insecurities at play, but she waltzed back into your life like she belonged there, and…” I shook my head, unable to find the rest of the words I was looking for.
Brett tucked a ringlet behind my ear, his fingers brushing against my cheek. “You have no reason to be insecure. And you’re so far ahead of Alyssa on my priority list, it’s not even close. I realize I didn’t make you feel that way, but it’s true. You’re number one on my list, Marley. No question.”
A rush of relief and affection sent me into his arms. I pressed my cheek against his chest and hugged him tightly, not caring in the least that the sky chose that moment to open up and send rain pouring down on us. Brett kissed the top of my head and I had to blink back tears, the warmth and strength of my feelings for him almost overwhelming me.
Once I’d warded off the tears, I tipped my head back so I could speak to Brett over the sounds of the ocean and raging weather. “You’re at the top of my list, too.” I kept one arm looped around him and used the other to wipe rain from my face. “That’s why it scared me so much…” Again, words deserted me.
Brett put a hand to the side of my face, his thumb skimming over my cheekbone. “What? You thought I still had feelings for Alyssa?”
“I worried that you might,” I confessed.
“Marley, no.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine. “I promise you that’s not the case. My relationship with Alyssa ended years ago, and it’s not something I ever want to go back to.”
“But you wanted to marry her,” I said, remembering Alyssa’s words.
He let out a long sigh, and I realized that we were digging into painful memories. I placed a hand on his chest, wishing his rain jacket weren’t in the way so I could feel his heartbeat. He raised his head and placed one of his hands over mine, staring out at the ocean for a moment before returning his eyes to mine.
“I didn’t know she knew about that until yesterday,” he said. “She must have heard about it from one of our mutual friends. I bought a ring and was planning to propose. Then one day I came home from work to find she had all her bags packed. She left for LA that evening, and I didn’t see her again until she showed up on my doorstep the other day.”
“That was it?” I felt a flare of indignation on his behalf. “She didn’t give you any warning at all?”
Brett shook his head. “Looking back, there were signs, but at the time it came completely out of the blue. She’d always talked about wanting to act, but I thought she was happy doing local plays and commercials. Turned out I was wrong about that. And she didn’t think there was a place for me in the new life she planned to build for herself.”
My heart ached for him as I absorbed his words. “I’m so sorry you were hurt like that.”
“It was for the best in the end. We weren’t a great match, although I didn’t realize that at the time.”
“I did wonder. She didn’t strike me as the type of person you’d gravitate to. She’s gorgeous, of course, but…”
“Also self-absorbed and condescending?”
“Yes,” I said.
Brett nodded his agreement. “I think her rising fame has gone to her head.”
“She wasn’t like that before?”
“Not to the same extent. I can look back now and see red flags, but most of the time she was nice.”
I lowered my eyes. “What if she went back to being nice?”
“That wouldn’t change anything.”
“She’s famous, and getting more so all the time.”
“Marley.” He tipped up my chin until my eyes met his, the intensity of his blue gaze stirring up butterflies in my chest. “You’re talking to the guy who moved back to Wildwood Cove because he didn’t enjoy city living. Hollywood and that whole supposedly glamorous lifestyle holds no appeal for me, and neither does any woman but you.” He put his hand to my cheek again. “Okay?”
A smile spread across my face, probably bordering on goofy, but he’d chased away my worries and the relief that replaced them left me almost giddy. “Better than okay.”
He pulled me closer and kissed me. Rainwater streamed down our faces and the roar of the storm danced around us, but we didn’t care. I barely noticed the weather. I let myself get lost in the kiss, channeling into it my profound affection for Brett, my relief at being back with him. When we broke apart, it was almost a shock to become fully aware of the storm again.
Brett still held me close, and as I met his eyes I smiled again.
“Look at us,” I said. “Standing out here in a storm like crazy people.”
He didn’t break eye contact. “I guess we should go inside.”
Neither of us moved. We were both grinning like fools, and this time I was the one to initiate the kiss. I was melting into Brett, losing awareness of anything other than the two of us, when a rogue wave crashed into our legs. The force of it sent me stumbling out of Brett’s arms, the chill of its icy touch pulling a gasp out of me.
Brett caught me before I could fall and half-carried me a few feet up the beach, keeping an eye on the ocean. “Maybe it’s not so safe to stay here any longer.”
I shivered, drenched and chilled to the bone now. “I’m ready to go inside anyhow.”
Holding hands, we left the thrashing waves behind, trekking over the logs and wet sand. Up ahead, the lights shining through the windows of my Victorian beckoned us with a promise of warmth. When I opened the back door, a fierce gust of wind propelled us into the house, trying to send the rain in after us.
Brett pulled the door shut, muffling the sounds of the storm, and I led him to the laundry room, where we shrugged out of our jackets and hung them above the large sink so they wouldn’t drip all over the floor. I grabbed two towels from a cupboard, tossing one to Brett. He caught it with one hand as something buzzed quietly.
“Your phone?” I guessed.
Brett scrubbed the towel down his face and dug his phone out of his pocket. He frowned when he checked the display, so I stepped closer for a look of my own.
“Who’s Holly?” I asked, reading the name displayed on the screen.
“Alyssa’s assistant. She’s already called twice to tell me that Alyssa wants me to fix everything, which I’m already well aware of.” He skimmed his thumb over the screen, declining the call.
I towel-dried my hair. “You could have answered it.”
Brett set the phone on top of the washing machine and ran his towel over his hair. “I really don’t want to.”
“I thought you wanted to help Alyssa.”
“I changed my mind.”
I opened the washing machine and tossed my towel inside. “I think you should help her.”
Brett finished toweling his hair. “After all we just talked about?”
I took his towel and added it to the machine before shutting the door. “It wouldn’t feel right to you if you didn’t help her.”
He took a moment to consider my words. “I don’t want to do anything to upset you.”
“It won’t upset me,” I assured him. “Not anymore. And besides, the sooner we figure out who th
e killer is, the sooner Alyssa can be out of our lives.”
“There’s that,” he agreed. “But ‘we’? You want to help her, too?”
“It’s not so much that I’m eager to help Alyssa,” I admitted. “But I want Christine’s killer caught. I also think you could be right about Alyssa being innocent.”
Brett’s blue eyes held mine, a hint of a smile on his face.
“What?” I asked after a moment.
His smile widened. “I’m just appreciating how amazing you are.”
“Don’t think too highly of me. My reasons are partly selfish, remember.”
He took my hands. “You’re still amazing.”
I mirrored his smile. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.” I looked down at our joined hands before meeting his eyes again. “So, what do you think our first step should be?”
He flashed me the adorable grin that always made my heart skip. “I was thinking this…”
His lips touched mine, gently, yet I could almost hear the sizzle of heat behind the kiss. I melted against him, deepening the kiss, all my senses focused on the two of us. When our lips eventually parted, I could barely feel my feet on the floor and wouldn’t have been surprised to find us floating near the ceiling.
Brett brushed back one of my ringlets and kissed me below my ear.
“I thought we were going to solve a murder,” I said, barely able to catch my breath.
A stray drop of rainwater escaped my hair and trickled down my cheek.
“Starting tomorrow.” Brett kissed away the droplet and traced a finger down my face. “The rest of this day is about us.”
I wasn’t going to argue with that.
Chapter 17
When I opened my eyes to complete darkness, I lay still, startled, but not sure why. Something had woken me, but I didn’t know what. I could hear the storm raging outside, wind roaring around the house, rain lashing against the windows and pounding on the roof. I couldn’t see anything, though.
Recognizing that the room was darker than usual, I turned my head to the side. Only deep shadows greeted me, my bedside clock giving off no luminescent glow. I sat up, realizing the storm had knocked the power out while I slept.
My eyes had adjusted to the gloom, but I could still see only dark shapes and shadows. I glanced at Brett where he lay beside me. He didn’t move or speak, so I figured he was still asleep. Shifting closer to him, I lay back down, deciding it was the storm that had woken me from my deep sleep.
As I rested my head against the pillow, I heard something other than the wind and the rain. I sat up again, my heart pounding as I listened for any further sounds. I heard nothing other than the storm now, but I knew I wasn’t mistaken. I’d heard a thump coming from somewhere near the front of the house.
Leaning toward the edge of the bed, I felt around until my hand touched the drawer of my bedside table. I pulled it open and reached in, again going by feel to find the flashlight I always kept there. When I switched it on, it emitted a weak beam of yellow-orange light. I silently cursed myself for not checking the batteries before the storm hit. I’d left the new ones downstairs, so they were of no help to me at the moment. I reached for my phone, deciding to use a flashlight app instead, but it wasn’t there and I couldn’t remember where I’d left it. Normally I kept it next to my bed at night, but I’d been more than a little distracted in Brett’s company.
Easing out of bed as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake Brett over what was probably nothing, I crept barefoot to the bedroom door and out into the hallway, the anemic light from my flashlight guiding me. I pushed against the door to the room across the hall and it opened with the tiniest of groans. I made my way around the guest bed to the window and peered out into the darkness. The view through the rain-splattered glass wasn’t helpful. Vague shapes, only slightly darker than the rest of the sky, bowed and swayed, and I figured I was seeing the fir trees on my property getting blown about by the strong wind.
As I turned away from the window, something soft brushed against my ankle. I stifled a yelp as I caught Flapjack in the weak beam of my flashlight. A sigh of relief escaped me as I gave the tabby a scratch on the head. He purred and rubbed against my legs again.
“Let’s go downstairs, Jack.” I made my way out into the hall again, Flapjack following at my heels.
Shining the flashlight’s dim beam ahead of me and gripping the banister with my other hand, I descended the steps and came to a stop in the foyer. Flapjack wandered toward the back of the house, leaving me alone. My heart rate sped up again, and I remained frozen, fear creeping over my skin with a chilling touch.
I chastised myself for my silliness. There was nothing to be afraid of, outside or in. I’d probably heard a tree branch hitting the house or some other object getting blown about the yard. I turned for the stairs but then stopped. If I wanted to fall asleep again, I had to ease my mind. That meant making sure the house wasn’t in danger from a half-fallen tree or anything of that nature.
Pushing aside the remnants of my baseless fear, I unlocked the front door and slowly opened it. Wind rushed in at me, blowing my hair back from my face and chilling me in an instant. I stood in the doorway and aimed my flashlight at the outdoors, but it barely illuminated anything. I took a cautious step out onto the porch. My bare foot touched something solid. This time I didn’t manage to stifle my yelp. I jumped back and pointed the flashlight’s pale beam at the porch floor.
Although my light was growing weaker by the minute, it was enough for me to make out the severed head sitting at my feet, its lifeless eyes wide and staring. I threw myself back into the house and slammed the door, locking it and leaning against it, trying to draw in air with great gasps. My stomach churned from the horror of what I’d just seen, and my legs threatened to give out from beneath me.
“Marley?”
I jumped at the sound of Brett’s voice, but then a rush of relief eased my gasping breaths.
“Down here,” I called.
I pushed off from the door and shone my flashlight at the stairs, lighting a path for Brett as he made his way down to the foyer, barefoot and wearing the sweats and T-shirt he kept at my house.
“What’s going on? I thought I heard the door slam.”
I drew in a deep, steadying breath, comforted by his presence.
“Something woke me. I heard a thump outside, so I went to have a look to make sure a tree hadn’t fallen. When I opened the door…” I shuddered. “It was awful…but…” With the shock and horror wearing off, my mind made some connections between recent events.
“Marley?” Brett was sounding concerned now.
I rushed to explain. “There was a severed head on the porch.”
Even in the increasingly dim light, I saw surprise register in Brett’s eyes.
“But now that I think about it, it’s probably not real. Nicola, Christine’s assistant, showed me some the other day. Props for the film. That’s got to be what it is, right?”
Brett took the flashlight from me. “Let’s have a look.”
Despite knowing that the head might not be real, I wasn’t eager to study it, not so soon after my terrible fright, but I knew we needed to find out for certain. Brett reached for the door, but just then the flashlight winked out.
“Shoot,” I said as I heard him flick it on and off without result. “I’ve got new batteries somewhere. I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Be careful,” Brett cautioned.
I put a hand to the hallway wall and made my way to the family room. When the hall ended, I put my hands out in front of me and slowed my steps. I managed to make my way to the kitchen table without stubbing my toes or otherwise harming myself. I felt around until I found my cloth shopping bag on one of the chairs. After rummaging around inside the bag for several seconds, my fingers closed around the package of batteries I’d purchased at the general store.
“Found them!” I called out.
I tore open the packaging and removed two batteri
es, leaving the rest on the kitchen table.
My hands out in front of me again, I shuffled my way back to the hall, and from there to the foyer. I found Brett’s hand in the darkness and gave him the batteries. After a few clicking sounds, he switched on the flashlight and a bright beam cut across the foyer. Brett aimed it in my direction without getting it in my eyes.
“You’re okay?”
“Yes. It gave me a fright, but now I’m sure it must be a prop.”
I was almost sure, anyway. Even so, I was glad when Brett offered me his hand. I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Brett shone the light at the porch floor, and I winced at the sight of the gory head and its staring eyes. It looked so real, to the point that my stomach churned again.
Still holding the flashlight, Brett hunkered down for a closer look.
“It’s fake, right?” I could hear the note of desperation in my voice.
It had to be a fake. The alternative was too horrifying.
I grimaced as Brett tapped one of the eyes.
He straightened up again. “Yes, it’s fake.”
I leaned against the doorframe for support, weakened by my relief. A second later, I stood up straight, indignation rushing in to replace my relief.
“Who would have done this?” I asked. “What a horrible prank! I seriously thought it was real when I first saw it.”
As Brett moved the flashlight, I caught sight of his face for a split second. He didn’t look happy.
“Somebody with a twisted sense of humor. Or someone trying to send you a message.”
I tightened my grip on his hand. “The killer?”
“Have you already done some investigating?”
“A bit,” I said.
“Then it could be the killer, trying to warn you off.”
I shivered.
Brett shone the beam of the flashlight around the front yard, but other than the giant fir trees swaying in the wind and the raindrops pattering against the porch steps, there wasn’t much to see.
“Whoever left it is long gone now,” Brett said.
He released my hand and put an arm around my shoulders, guiding me back into the house.
