by Lacey Baker
“This is not finished,” Inez said with a scowl.
“For me it is,” Quinn told her as he stood face-to-face with what he thought might be one of the meanest women he’d ever known.
For all that Marabelle and Louisa could be totally vicious in their gossiping, they were generally harmless. This woman, Quinn decided in the seconds he stared back at her, was not. For that he felt supremely sorry for Hoover, who had just plopped his big body down in the seat Quinn had vacated and was presently drinking the remainder of the wine he’d left in his glass.
* * *
There was silence, once again, as they walked along the pier. Not complete silence thanks to the soft rustle of the water just a few feet below and the click of her heels on the wooden planks as they moved closer to where he’d parked the car.
“They want to sell the land. It’s all about money to them,” she said more to herself than to Quinn actually. She hadn’t expected him to reply, didn’t really know that she wanted him to.
The scene with the Kings had rocked her just a little harder than the one she’d had earlier today with Louisa. What was going on with the people in Sweetland? They all seemed to be losing their minds.
“My grandmother’s work will not be in vain,” he said solemnly then suddenly stopped walking and reached for her hand. “I want to thank you for your loyalty and your dedication to the inn. I assure you that we’ll take care of the taxes. Your job will remain intact.”
She wanted to pull her hand away from his because she didn’t like his tone, or the stilted look in his eyes when he stared down at her. There was a light breeze, so her dress danced around her legs, and the scent of his cologne was lifted wafting in her face in quiet enticement.
“This isn’t about a job for me. Mrs. Cantrell was like my family. That inn means as much to me as it does to you and your siblings. Possibly more,” she couldn’t resist adding.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned immediately.
Nikki hadn’t wanted to say this. Actually, she’d hoped to keep her professional and personal feelings separate in this matter. But she should have known that wasn’t going to work.
“All of you walked away. You left her here and moved on with your lives. Now, I’m not saying you weren’t entitled to your own lives, because I think everyone should make their own decisions, walk their own paths. But none of you ever looked back. All she wanted was for you to love the inn, the legacy as much as she did, but you couldn’t.” She shrugged because now that she’d said all that she didn’t know what she wanted him to do with the information.
“I guess what I’m saying is that it’s time for all of you to step up and do what’s right.”
“And what’s right, Nikki? Should all of us pack up and move back here? Should we all walk away from the lives we’ve built to come back to a town that never gave us anything but grief?”
“Grief isn’t in one place, Quinn. It follows you wherever you take it,” she told him honestly. She’d thought about this earlier and had hurriedly pushed the subject out of her mind. Denial, she figured. Or maybe it was just hope.
“What if we don’t belong here?”
“What if you do?” was her counteroffer.
What did she know, Nikki questioned herself. She’d never been anywhere, never branched out from Sweetland or her family. Well, when she’d done so it hadn’t been successful. What if this place had been her safety net all along? Could she really stand here and tell Quinn she thought he and his siblings should come back?
“Look, Quinn, I don’t have all the answers. I wasn’t the smartest or the prettiest girl in high school, and it took me a little longer than others to find my way. But I did that once I decided to follow my heart. Your grandmother taught me that.”
He kept walking, kept looking out toward the water. He was distant and he was confusing. Hot and desirable one minute, brooding and borderline angry the next, and she should walk away right now. She should turn around and go back to her apartment, back to the safest place she knew, the place where she loved and that love was reciprocated without question.
But she didn’t.
Instead, Nikki reached for his hand. She twined her fingers in his and let the bare skin of her arm rub along his.
“Follow your heart,” she said again, quietly letting the words hang in the air a few seconds before they continued to walk.
Chapter 17
Two days later Nikki found herself following her tired feet and growling stomach into her apartment after a long day at the inn. A Fortune 500 company headquartered in Virginia had decided it would be nice to host their company picnic in Sweetland. They’d booked a year ago through a travel agent who had completely sold them on a new upscale resort that would cater to their request for a small-town picnic for two hundred guests. Only that upscale resort had fallen into financial difficulties and as yet still had not been completed. It would have been nice for the travel agent to tell her client this well before today. Better yet, it would have been even lovelier if said travel agent had called The Silver Spoon before yesterday morning.
They weren’t prepared for something this big, weren’t sure they could pull it all together in time. But after a powwow with Michelle and Raine, who had walked in on the meeting, the three of them had decided that with the tax bill looming they couldn’t say no. So Nikki had called the agent back, assured her that they would have a lovely picnic awaiting her clients the next day at eleven thirty, and set out to do exactly that.
“We’ve got a situation so I called you all here to tell you that it’s all hands on deck,” Michelle had said as they sat in the kitchen.
For some reason this seemed to be the gathering place in the house for the family. And as of late, Nikki found herself right there with the six of them.
“What’s going on?” Preston asked.
Michelle explained about the event while Savannah hissed and rolled her eyes.
“You can’t possibly get all that done in one day,” Savannah quipped. “No matter how perfect you think you are.”
“You’re right,” Quinn put in to everyone’s chagrin.
Nikki had looked at him with shock. Their date had been the night before last and since then he’d been nice to her, cordial and even mildly affectionate, but there had been distance. She’d tried not to think too much on it because it wasn’t wise to dwell on things she couldn’t change. But she had to admit she was itching to say some choice words to him at this moment.
Then he held up a hand to stop what was most likely going to be Michelle’s heated response. “Michelle can’t get all this together in one day. But we can.”
“He’s right,” Parker added.
“We’re planning a party,” Raine said with a squee.
And as the plans had begun to take shape, Michelle at the helm passing out orders, Raine taking notes, Quinn had caught Nikki’s gaze. As it was with him, Nikki couldn’t look away. When he smiled, she smiled back. Then she’d pulled out her own address book and started making calls.
The picnic had gone as smoothly as if they’d planned it for an entire year. If you didn’t count the tent collapsing twice as Parker, Quinn, and Preston tried to set it up; the puppies running wildly throughout the house since they couldn’t go out in the yard; Savannah dropping two trays of finger sandwiches on the floor, subsequently feeding the already-hyper puppies; and Michelle spending the day flip-flopping between evil dictator and cordial host.
Of the last twelve hours Nikki would have to admit the highlight for her was when Quinn had found her sitting on the rocks by the water, about twenty minutes after they’d finally finished the cleanup.
“Hey,” he’d said stepping lightly over the rocks before sitting on one right beside her.
“Hey,” she’d replied without even opening her eyes. She’d been resting her head on her arms, which were folded over her knees. There was no breeze today, just the stiff humidity of mid-May in Maryland. But it was quiet and it was sti
ll, so she’d sat here and almost drifted off to sleep.
“I owe you an apology.”
Now, that had her eyes opening. “You do?”
He smiled. His black polo shirt was sprinkled with all types of things from the day’s work, his khaki shorts wrinkled. He’d sweat so much and wiped his face so much there were red marks on his forehead from the towel he kept stuffed in his back pocket. And yet he was still gorgeous.
She swallowed that thought and waited for this apology he thought he owed her.
“I was a little rude the other night. I had some things going on and I took it out on you. That was wrong of me and I apologize.”
Clean-cut and to the point; she could live with that.
“Apology accepted.”
“Just like that?” he asked, one brow raised in confusion.
It was a cute look, Quinn Cantrell confused. She couldn’t resist reaching out to tap his cheek with her palm. “I’m too tired to come up with anything else,” she told him with a weak chuckle.
He laughed and the tension that had lay between them the past two days dissolved.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” he said, standing and reaching for her hands to help her up.
She was shaking her head as she stood. “I drove in this morning because I had a ton of flowers from Drew’s shop to bring over.”
“Then I tell you what, you go on home, get a hot bath and relax. I’ll grab a shower and Dixi and we’ll bring you dinner. How does pizza sound?”
He’d been rubbing her shoulders as he talked and Nikki had rested her head against his chest because she was almost too tired to hold herself upright a moment longer.
“With extra cheese, pepperoni and ham, and a glass of wine? That sounds heavenly.” She sighed.
“You got it,” Quinn said before kissing the top of her head. If she weren’t in an almost-debilitated state she would have thought that was a chaste action. Instead she allowed him to walk her to her car and even snap her into the seat belt.
It was then that he’d leaned in, touched his lips lightly to hers. “I’m really sorry. You said some really smart things, some things I needed to hear. So thanks for that.”
“You’re very welcome,” she said, suddenly feeling a little less tired.
He stared at her a moment, and heat spread quickly throughout her body. Then he kissed her. She’d expected and welcomed it. The soft touch of his lips on hers, the gentle brush of their tongues in reunion, then the deep hunger that punched like a prizefighter deep in her gut were graciously welcomed. His hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her upward as he continued to take, to devour, to mesmerize her completely.
She was still dazed when he pulled away. “I’ll be there in a couple of hours,” he whispered.
“I’ll be there, too,” was her bewildered reply, which garnered another one of his smiles.
* * *
When Nikki arrived home it was to a FedEx box sitting in her doorway. She picked it up and let herself inside. Placing the box on the table, she headed straight to the shower.
After taking much longer than usual to select an outfit and arguing with herself about the necessity for makeup—especially since she rarely wore the stuff—Nikki slipped into comfortable white shorts and a peach tank top. She hummed as she walked through her place, picking up this and straightening that. It wasn’t until about an hour after she’d come in and placed the box on her table that she noticed it was still there.
Checking the time, she figured Quinn would be arriving soon but reached into the drawer where she tended to throw everything that didn’t have a definite space in her tiny house. Grabbing the scissors, she cut the taped portions of the box and opened it. The gasp came quick, one hand flying to her mouth to stifle a full-on scream.
It was filled with money, stacks and stacks of money. Only because her brain swore her eyes were playing a cruel trick on her did she reach into the box and pick up one thick stack of bills. Rubbing her finger over the crisp one-hundred-dollar bill, she could do nothing but sigh. A few startled moments later she saw the envelope that had been on top of the bills, the one with her name written in blue ink. Her heart hammered in her chest as she placed the stack of bills back into its slot in the box and picked up the envelope. She used her finger to slip through the seal and open it, all the while thinking, praying this wasn’t from who she thought it was. The moment she unfolded the letter and began to read, dread filled her like water seeping into a bucket.
Nikki,
You would not listen when I called. I will be in Sweetland soon to pick up this box and to see you. I hope things will work out for both of us.
Yours,
Randall
Why? Why couldn’t this man leave her alone? Wasn’t it enough that he’d made a fool out of her? Obviously not; now he had to taunt her, even in death. That’s right, Randall was dead. And the police thought she had something to do with his death. And now she’d received this.
She hurriedly closed the box. The flaps, having already been opened, immediately flipped open again. She pressed her hand down on top of the box to keep it closed, then figured how idiotic that seemed. Acting purely on instinct, she turned and was immediately facing her small refrigerator. Reaching inside she pulled out the first thing she saw, a pack of defrosted chicken wings she’d originally planned for her dinner tonight. She put the chicken on the top of the box and sighed when it stayed closed. But she didn’t know what to do with the letter. The thought of burning it crossed her mind briefly, but then there came a knock at her door. Nikki jumped, dropping the letter on the floor. Her scream wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough that the knock came even quicker on the door and only a second later he was calling out to her.
“Nikki? You in there? Open the door,” Quinn yelled.
Bending quickly, she scooped up the letter and envelope and headed for the door. She’d tucked one hand behind her back—the hand with the letter—and used the other hand to open the door.
“Hey,” she said trying desperately to sound normal.
His frown was instant. “Hey,” he replied. Stepping into her apartment, he immediately reached for her hand. “You okay? I thought I heard you scream.”
“Um, I’m fine,” she told him and felt her lips shake with a smile. She was so not fine it was unbelievable.
“Ed Toriana’s gonna send his son Vinny over with the pizza in about twenty minutes. I’m thinking I might need to go up to Easton this weekend and rent a car. I’m not really used to walking all around Sweetland anymore,” he told her after he’d closed the door and began walking them both toward the couch.
Nikki kept her hand behind her back, walking along with him, swallowing deeply so that the next time she spoke her voice hopefully wouldn’t crack. She didn’t know if she should tell him about this or just keep it to herself. Nobody knew about the delivery but her and the FedEx guy who dropped it off. But FedEx kept a paper trail, she thought dismally. That box could be traced if somebody wanted to trace it. But why would they? Nobody knew about this money, right? Her temples throbbed with questions, her heart almost jackhammering right out of her chest as she sat on the couch next to Quinn.
“I’m going to give you one more minute to sit there like nothing’s going on. Then I want you to tell me what the problem is,” Quinn said, sitting with his elbows on his knees, his face turned to her.
“What?” she asked, only vaguely aware that he was still here and talking to her, or rather expecting her to say something to him.
“What’s going on, Nikki?” he implored, his voice softer, his hand reaching out to touch hers.
She couldn’t help it, didn’t know what else to do. So Nikki pulled the envelope from behind her back and thrust it at him. “It was here when I got home,” she said.
Quinn took the letter, opened it, read it quietly. With a serious expression he looked back at her. “Where?”
She nodded. “On the table.”
Nikki didn’t move, but wat
ched him as he went into the kitchen, picked up the pack of chicken, staring at it quizzically for a minute before putting it on the table and pushing back the flaps of the box. He didn’t say a word, just reached into his pocket for his cell phone.
“Yeah, it’s me. I need you to get over to Nikki’s place and bring Preston with you.”
When he disconnected, Quinn came back into the living room and sat down. This time he pulled her onto his lap, holding her as if she were a child. Nikki couldn’t help it, she let her head rest on his shoulder.
“This is not your fault. He was a nutcase and you couldn’t have predicted that.”
“But it doesn’t look good. It looks like I was involved with whatever he was doing that got him killed.”
“Circumstantial,” Quinn told her. “Try not to worry. We’re going to fix this.”
“How?” she asked in a voice that sounded so small, so vulnerable, so weak. Nikki hated it. She absolutely hated that Randall still had this power over her even from the grave.
“You are innocent,” Quinn stated firmly. “That’s the bottom line.”
“Right,” she whispered with a slight nod of her head. “I’m innocent.” The words didn’t necessarily convince her.
But there was a box of money sitting on her kitchen table that came from a dead man, a pack of chicken that would probably go bad before she got a chance to cook it, and the pizza delivery guy at her door.
Nikki wasn’t sure what she felt right at this moment, but innocent wasn’t at the top of the list.
* * *
Deputy Jonah Lincoln pulled up in front of the Brockington house for the second time this week. Carl, the only other deputy in the town and the son of Sheriff Kyle Farraway, was out on a date. And Jonah was about to turn puke green with envy.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad. So Jonah hadn’t been on a date in about four months; there weren’t that many available females in Sweetland. Most of the women were over thirty-five and either married or shacked up with longtime boyfriends. As a native of the town Jonah knew that if he hadn’t snagged one by his thirtieth birthday, the prospects began to go downhill. But he already had a prospect and as he walked up the walkway and around to the back of the house his heartbeat sped up just a bit. He was about to see her again. Maybe this time he’d have the nerve to ask her out. Maybe not since he was kind of here in an official capacity, investigating that murder in Easton and making sure Nikki—his prospect—wasn’t really a suspect.
