by Taylor Anne
The night was pitch black, no moon to reflect off the water. The waves lapped against the shore, easing her mind. Immediately, she could feel her headache lessening. Not enough to go back inside though. That would take something stronger than nature.
Sounds of the music from the bar drifted down to the shoreline. The country song playing reminded her of Colton. Tough on the outside, with a tender heart beating on the inside. He could play tough guy all day long, but Kayla had enough glimpses into his softer side to know it existed.
For some reason she couldn’t pinpoint, any time he referred to the business, he still had that iron grip attitude. Like a part of him didn’t trust her, or more to the point, like he felt as if she didn’t trust him. Kayla had made the decision not to mention her dream of adding her wedding business to the bar. She would continue to evaluate the area and the building before she made any decisions.
The tide rolled in. The water swirled at her feet, tugging at her as the foamy liquid receded. She froze, sensing his presence. He was there, standing behind her. His Black Ice scent teased her nostrils. She teetered, almost losing her balance in the moist sand.
A rumble of laughter touched her ears right before strong, steady hands reached out to keep her from tumbling face first into the ocean. She shrieked.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?” That voice could only belong to one person.
“Colton.” She eased out of his hands. “I’m headed up to my house to grab a few aspirins. My head is killing me.” They walked back towards the bar, away from the soft lull of the ocean. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
At the bar, Colton put his hand on her chin and tipped it up so he could look at her eyes. “You look beat. Go home for the night. The extra help we hired is doing a fantastic job. We’ve got it covered.”
She noticed he said, “we.” She was humbled when he asked for her help in deciding between some of the applicants. The fact that he valued her opinion had to mean that he wanted to work with her.
“No, I’ll be back in about half an hour. I just need to rest a bit.” She turned, walking towards her beach house. Conveniently, the house was less than a five-minute walk from the bar.
“Kayla,” Colton called after her. She turned to see his smirk. “You can relax. I promise not to run off with all the profits.” He entered the bar and closed the door before she could respond.
His condescending attitude over the last few days grated on her nerves. When they weren’t discussing the bar, his demeanor was totally different. Very likable. But every time he referred to the bar, his attitude was that Kayla wanted to take over. Sure, she wanted to be involved in the business, but she fully understood that Colt had his claim in it also. She had to find a way to convince him that she wasn’t the bad girl here.
What Kayla couldn’t figure out was why a man with his looks was stuck running a bar and not out entertaining the women. He was there every night, even though he could afford the help so he could take time off. Like Grandpa, Colton was dedicated to the business. The man oozed sex appeal, and had a smooth tongue. Kayla could get lost in his whiskey tainted voice.
Trudging through the ankle deep sand was not an easy task with flip-flops. What else was a person to wear on the beach? She reached down and slipped off her shoes, which made the last twenty feet easier to maneuver.
When she reached the bottom of the steps, the motion-sensitive light flickered on, casting a warm glow into the black night. She dug her key out of her pocket. Taped to the screen door was a small gift-wrapped package. Tilting her head in question, she removed it, turning it over in her hands, looking for a label. Nothing. Was it meant for her? Who could have left it?
Unlocking the door, she headed straight to the kitchen for some pain relievers before focusing on the small gift. The wrapping was white. The sort of paper used to wrap wedding presents. Without hesitation, she pulled at the tape. If it wasn’t meant for her, she could re-wrap the item and deliver to the proper recipient. A small object fell out and clanked onto the kitchen counter. She picked it up and examined it. An engagement ring. That didn’t make any sense. Why would someone send her an engagement ring? She tore at the rest of the wrapping paper to reveal a pink note tucked inside.
Here comes the bride dressed all in white. Radiant and lovely she shines in his sight.
Kayla turned the paper over, looking at the backside for more information. Nothing. She shook her head, and reread the words one more time. Kayla put the ring and the note in a dish on the counter. Did one of her clients send this? Was it meant for one of her brides? The ring looked vaguely familiar, but with her head pounding, she couldn’t think straight to identify why.
Dread knotted her stomach, and she didn’t want to be alone. Downing two ibuprofens, she headed out the door back towards the bar to finish out the night.
The blaring ring of her cell phone woke Kayla Sunday morning. Before answering, she peered at the clock on the bedside table. Nine forty. Past time to get out of bed. Grabbing her phone, she mumbled a sleepy, “Hello.”
“Um, is this Kayla?” The man’s voice was uncertain and shaky.
“Yes it is. Who’s speaking?”
“This is Jerry. Marcy’s fiancé. She was supposed to come by this morning before our meeting with you, and she hasn’t shown up yet. It’s not like her to be late. Did I misunderstand and she went ahead to see you?”
Kayla sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her in days. I’m sure it’s nothing but a nervous and excited bride-to-be.”
“That’s strange because yesterday morning she was fine.”
Kayla shook her head to clear the last of the morning fog from it. “Come on over, and we’ll wait for her here. You have directions?”
“Yes, I do. I’ll see you in about half an hour.”
Kayla quickly showered, dressed, and put on a pot of strong coffee. She poured her first cup when a knock sounded on the door. She opened it to find a distraught, disheveled looking young man. His black hair fell across his eyes, ruffled by his hands as well as the wind. The button-up shirt was half tucked in and half out. Beady eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses peered up anxiously at Kayla.
“Jerry?” she asked.
He nodded. “Is Marcy here yet?” A worried frown crept across his forehead.
“No, she isn’t. Come in though. We can try to call her.”
In the kitchen, she pointed him to a barstool while she dialed Marcy’s number on her cell phone. Three times, the call went straight to voicemail. A twinge of uncertainty lit up in the back of her mind. The man sitting at her counter toyed with a napkin, twisting and turning it over and over in his hands. His jumpiness was beginning to upset Kayla. She could deal with anxious brides-to-be, but dealing with grooms was not her thing.
Marcy should be there by now. Kayla tried to come up with a viable reason, but nothing seemed to fit the personality of the happy young woman she’d come to know over the past months via email and phone. And at their one in-person meeting the other evening, Marcy was so excited about marrying this man, the idea she got cold feet was ludicrous.
Trying to buy some time, and to calm Jerry’s nerves, Kayla pulled out the portfolio of Marcy and Jerry’s upcoming wedding. “I need your input on some of this food. Marcy wasn’t sure which main course would be best, brisket or roasted duck. Maybe you could help decide.” That wasn’t the full truth. The meal was planned, they were serving both meats, but Kayla had to give him something to occupy his mind and his hands. It was the first thought that came to mind.
After several minutes of wedding talk, they decided on brisket, but Jerry’s eyes had a faraway look, and she was sure his mind was miles away. Kayla jumped off her stool and went around the counter to the coffee pot. “More coffee?”
“Sure,” he mumbled.
Kayla carried the two cups back to the kitchen counter. Jerry reached around Kayla to pull the little seashell dish closer to him. Inside
sat the ring Kayla had received last night. He picked it up and held it in his hand between his finger and thumb. His brow wrinkled before he turned questioning eyes in her direction.
“Where did you get this?”
“Umm, it was left on my door, wrapped up like a present. I wasn’t sure who sent it, or what it meant. Actually I set it here and forgot about it.” She told him about finding the ring and the note. “Why?”
Jerry turned the ring over in his hands, studying the underneath. When he turned back to her, his face was white as snow. “This is Marcy’s ring.”
Kayla’s heart pounded. Fear rose in her throat. “What? Are you sure?” She moved closer to him so she could get a better look at the diamond ring.
He pointed to the inside. “The inscription. M & J - We are one. When I bought the ring, I had it engraved with those words. She loved it.” His eyes misted over. “Where is she?”
Kayla took a step back, dread filling her feet with lead. “This note was left with the ring. Does it mean anything to you?” She showed him the note.
“No. I’ve never heard this before.”
Kayla felt around on the counter for her cell phone. “I’m calling her parents.”
Before she could pick up her phone, Jerry pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in something. “Mr. Firwood, this is Jerry. Please tell me Marcy is there with you.”
Kayla took a sip of her coffee while Jerry spoke with Marcy’s father. The much-loved brisk coffee of her home state of Louisiana burned as it slid down her closed throat. She set the cup on the counter and waited. Jerry’s hand tightened on the phone. Kayla paced back and forth behind him. Confusion and fear warred in her head. What was going on? Who sent Marcy’s ring to her? Where was Marcy?
“I’ll be right over.” He started to end the call, but instead, he breathed into the phone, “First, send the cops to this address.”
He rattled off her address. Kayla stopped in her tracks. “What’s going on?”
He popped off the barstool to stand next to her. “I don’t know. But something is wrong. The cops are at Marcy’s house questioning them about the last time they saw her.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t say anything to her father about the ring because I didn’t want to alarm him any more than he already is. He is so upset he could barely talk. The cops will be here in a few minutes. Tell them everything.”
“Sure. Sure. Anything I can do to help. Keep me posted.” She pulled at her left earlobe, a nervous habit since childhood.
Jerry slowly set the ring back in the seashell dish on the counter. He pulled his hand away and brushed the tips of his fingers against his lips. “I think I will stay until the cops get here. I want to know what’s going on.”
Kayla put a hand on his shoulder. “Certainly. Jerry, everything will be okay.”
Kayla paced in the small kitchen area. She couldn’t concentrate on anything. Where was Marcy? Why had someone sent her the young woman’s engagement ring? And the note, what did it mean? The last time Kayla saw Marcy was that first night at the bar, less than a week ago. Hell, that was the only time they met in person. She was such a lovely woman, so alive and excited about her upcoming wedding. Her enthusiasm leaked into Kayla’s blood and made her long for that special something she would never have. Now, that woman who had such hope about her future marriage was in some kind of trouble. Although no one put it in words yet, Kayla could feel it deep in her gut.
She breathed a sigh of relief when a knock sounded at the door. Finally, the cops had arrived. They would be able to shed some light on the situation. She jerked opened the front door and found herself staring into a pair of familiar dark eyes.
“Colton.”
“Hey. Expecting someone else?” His lazy voice tickled every nerve in her body while his massive frame filled the doorway, making her feel small.
“I’m sorry. Yes, I am. But come in.” She stepped aside to let him enter her living room.
“I just left the nursing home and wanted to tell you Earl looks good today. Said to tell you to stop by later if you have time.” Colton turned to face her. Concern lit his features. “You okay? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
His warm hands closed around hers, and she realized for the first time that she was ice cold and shivering. “I…it’s…” She jumped at the sound of the doorbell ringing. “That must be the cops.”
“Cops. What the hell?”
Kayla opened the door to two men. One dressed in police blues, the other in plain clothes. Plain clothes’ eyes bore into Kayla, a sinister smile formed on his lips. She instantly disliked him. His deep voice sent a chill down her spine. “Ms. Boudreaux, we need to ask you some questions about Marcy Firwood. May we come in?”
“Certainly.” She moved aside.
“Thank you,” police blues said. “I am Officer Banks, and this is…”
“Detective Hayden Sawyer.” The ice in Colton’s voice sent shivers down Kayla’s spine. She looked between Colton and the stony face of the detective. The men faced off with each other. The tension between them was thick as the muddy water of the Louisiana swamps.
“Colton Ford.” The name rolled off the detective’s lips with fire.
Kayla instinctively moved closer to Colton. For all of her unanswered questions about him, she felt safer beside him rather than next to the detective.
“Excuse me,” Banks interrupted. “We need to get some information from you, Ms. Boudreaux. Mr. Smith said you have something to show us.”
Thankful for the distraction, she led the three men to the kitchen counter and pointed to the ring and note in the seashell. She indicated the man sitting at the bar. “Jerry said this ring belongs to his fiancée, Marcy. Is she okay?”
“Why don’t you tell us how you came to have possession of these items?” Detective Sawyer’s gruff voice startled her. She didn’t miss the unspoken accusation either.
“Last night, I had a headache from the loud music in the bar so I came up here to take some aspirin and rest for a while. I found a wrapped package taped to my back door. There was no name tag, so I opened it to find this ring and note.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” Sawyer eyed her.
Two more uniformed officers entered her house. They nodded to the detective and escorted Jerry outside. Before the door shut, Jerry looked at Kayla, his eyes pleading for a positive outcome.
Colton moved to stand behind her. His hand at the small of her back was comforting, but the gesture filled her with confusion. She didn’t expect the protective touch from Colton to be so pleasurable. “I am a wedding coordinator. It’s not unusual for men and women to leave their rings with me until time for the wedding.” Granted, they usually delivered them to her in person, not as an unexplained gift. She kept that to herself.
“But this is obviously an engagement ring and not a wedding band. Again, why didn’t you call the police?” Sawyer’s voice dropped a notch.
“Dammit man, tell us what this is all about,” Colton barked. He tensed next to Kayla. Heat and anger radiated off his body.
The hairs on the back of her neck raised. Without him speaking the words, Kayla felt like the detective was accusing her of something. “I didn’t think I needed to.”
Colton leaned over to take a closer look at the ring. Kayla noticed he didn’t touch it. Fingerprints. Hers were all over it. As well as Jerry’s. “So after you found the note, what did you do?” The question coming from Colton startled her.
“I…umm. I wasn’t sure what to think of it. I figured one of my clients sent it for some reason or another. It was too late to call any of them and ask, so I left it here and went back to the bar. It sat there all night until a while ago when Jerry identified it.”
Detective Sawyer made a hand motion to Banks. The officer pulled out a plastic bag and placed the ring and the note inside. Then Sawyer turned his steely eyes back to Kayla. “What do you think the note means?” He recited the words from notes he made in a sm
all notebook. “Here comes the bride dressed all in white. Radiant and lovely she shines in his sight. Ms. Boudreaux, what does that mean?”
“Look, I don’t know. I just found it. That’s all.”
“Are you sure you didn’t write those words? Sounds like something a wedding planner would say.” His smirk annoyed Kayla.
“Wedding coordinator. And no, I didn’t write the note.” She was tired of this. She wanted answers.
“When was the last time you had contact with Marcy?”
“About a week ago. Why?” Kayla pulled at her ear.
“Did you want to do her any harm?” His tone rose with each question.
“Wha – what do you mean?”
“Did you have any reason to kill her?” Sawyer pinned her with a stare, an ugly sneer twisted his mouth.
“Kill. No.” The ominous words did not have time to sink in before Sawyer bombarded her with more questions.
“Where were you last night between midnight and three a.m.?”
“I was at the bar until around two in the morning.” Kayla looked up at Colton before continuing. “I don’t understand. Did something happen to Marcy?”
“And after two? Where were you? Did you see Marcy last night?” Kayla shook her head. Sawyer’s hand slammed down on the bar. “Did you kill her?”
“Sawyer, back off.” Colton’s jaw clenched tight. He wrapped one arm around Kayla’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Stop the interrogation.”
Kayla looked from the sullen face of Officer Banks, to the chiseled features of Sawyer, to the hardened lines of Colton’s face. “She’s dead? No.”
“All right, Sawyer. That’s enough bullshit. Tell us what the hell is going on.”
Sawyer looked at Kayla then focused his gaze on Colton. “This is official police business. Colton, you should probably leave. It doesn’t involve you.”
“Hell no, I’m not leaving. Why are you here?”
“Look, man.” Sawyer’s condescending tone grated on Kayla’s last nerve. “Just leave the lady to me, and we’ll straighten this all out.” He took a step towards her.
