The Secrets She Kept

by Brenda Novak

  “There was that intruder.”

  “The entire island had heard of your mother’s passing. With her gone, and the family plunged into grief and confusion, perhaps some opportunistic and unprincipled person decided it would be a fine time to break in.”

  “Except they didn’t take anything.”

  Her fork clinked against her plate as she set it down and wiped her mouth. “They didn’t expect to find you home. When I got there, the place was dark, and your rental car wasn’t in the drive.”

  “There’s no need to park in the drive when you have an abundance of garage stalls.” Especially now that he’d put a garage door opener in his rental.

  “That’s my point. There was nothing obvious to show you were home.”

  “From the front. I fell asleep with my light on, so there was definitely something at the back of the house.”

  “People often leave lights on, even when they’re not home.”

  “So you believe it was an attempted burglary.”

  “I’m saying it could’ve been.”

  “It could also have been the person who murdered my mother returning to the scene. That happens, too, doesn’t it? At least it does in the movies.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, it’s possible. If your mother was murdered. I’m keeping an open mind.”

  “Really! That’s a positive change,” he teased.

  “From what I hear not many people are capable of opposing you,” she joked back.

  “Somehow I doubt you have that problem.” He dipped his crab in the warm butter and offered her a bite, which she took.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Anyway, just to be clear, I’m still leaning toward suicide. There’s more evidence to support that than anything else.”

  “You mean like the fact that her bags were packed? That evidence?”

  “I mean that the ferry captain doesn’t recall seeing anyone who looked suspicious either coming or going on the night of your mother’s death.”

  “That doesn’t mean there wasn’t someone. Maybe the ferry captain was preoccupied. Maybe whoever it was didn’t stand out. Or the culprit lives on the island.”

  “True. That’s why I’m not completely convinced. Just taking the measure of it all. It’ll be interesting to see what they find at the autopsy on Sunday.”

  “Who told you we scheduled it for Sunday?” Although he’d been planning to get to that, they hadn’t spoken of it yet. “Did Dr. Pendergast call you?”

  She wiped her mouth again. “No. I ran into Maisey earlier at the grocery store. I’m sorry you felt you had to get involved. Because the coroner doesn’t have an ‘agenda.’ We all want the same thing. The truth.”

  “I feel more comfortable calling the shots.”

  “Obviously,” she said, and he could tell she was suppressing a smile.

  He scowled at her. “Why do I get the impression you’re laughing at me?”

  “I’m not laughing. You have to be in charge, and that’s fine. Obviously, that’s your approach to life—which isn’t too different from the way your mother handled things. So I can see where it comes from. Anyway, I’m hoping Dr. Pendergast will be able to tell us more. Regardless, I’ll keep digging. See what I can come up with. My tech is still going through your mother’s computer.”

  “I can’t imagine he’ll find anything there.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” she said. “Almost everything is electronic these days—work documents, financial records, even social interactions. She was older so there may be less than there’d be for someone, say, our age. But I’m guessing there’ll still be plenty to tell us what her last few months, weeks, even days were like.”

  He mulled over what he’d learned about Landon from Pippa. He knew he should probably say something, but he was so protective of Rocki, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was much easier to insist that Landon’s visit meant nothing, that he could never have hurt Josephine, so his being on the island had no bearing on any of this.

  “She’d hate the invasion of her privacy almost as much as hearing you say she was ‘older,’” he joked.

  “Then she should’ve thought of the consequences.”

  “Trust me. She would have. She thought of everything. That’s why I don’t believe she committed suicide.” After cracking the shell of his last crab leg, he held out some more meat. “Would you like another bite?”

  The way she licked his fingers when she accepted his offering took him by surprise—and told him he probably wouldn’t have to spend the night alone. She liked him, and she wasn’t making a secret of it. “That’s delicious,” she said. “I wonder if you have anything else I’d enjoy.”

  He considered paying the check and taking her home. He was eager for company, didn’t want to deal with the slow march of time until the sun came up. Getting naked with a beautiful woman would be the perfect distraction...

  But a vision of Nancy in that dress made him hesitate. As pretty as Chief Underwood was, she wasn’t the one he wanted. “I won’t be staying on Fairham for long, Harper.”

  She stopped chewing. “Whoa. I didn’t see that coming.”

  “See what coming?”

  “Rejection.”

  “I’m not rejecting you. You’re a very attractive woman.”

  “‘No’ is still a rejection,” she said with a laugh.

  “I’m flattered. I just don’t think you’re the type for casual.”

  She sobered. “Is that really all you’re interested in?”

  He wasn’t convinced of that anymore. He’d been single for a long time; casual had grown ho-hum. The beautiful Dahlia was a case in point. She had a perfect body, and she knew what she was doing in bed. Most guys would kill to be with a woman like her, yet he’d hardly thought of her since arriving on Fairham.

  Something was missing in his life. He suspected it was the kind of deeper commitment Maisey and Roxanne had found with Rafe and Landon. But he wasn’t ready to admit it. “From your text the other night, I assumed sex wasn’t a possibility. So I guess I’m surprised, too.”

  “I expected I’d be able to talk myself out of it,” she said.

  “What changed?”

  “My opinion of you.”

  “I’m happy to hear that, at least.” He lowered his voice so she’d know he was sincere. “And I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  She put her napkin on the table. “It’s okay. It’s probably for the best. I haven’t been with anyone since my husband. I’m not sure I’d be any fun, anyway.”

  “I have no doubt you’d be fine.” He slid his plate away. “And if not, whoever you choose for that honor should be willing to help you work through any...difficulties.”

  Her lips curved into a sad smile. “Sounds to me like you’d be a good man for the job. If you change your mind, you have my number.”

  Keith almost reconsidered. At that point, it felt as if he’d be doing her a favor. But he couldn’t get that damn vision of Nancy out of his mind. He knew he’d only think of her, want to be touching her instead.

  Besides, whoever initiated Harper back into the world of intimacy after the loss of her husband should feel more excited about it. She deserved a partner who was totally engrossed in her.

  “You’re not making it easy,” he said.

  She started to laugh.

  “What?”

  “You’re not even tempted. Why? Is it Nancy?”

  Although the word no was on the tip of his tongue—since it came more naturally for him to deny it—he didn’t see any harm in being honest. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “She got under your skin, after all. If she only knew...”

  “She wouldn’t believe it anyway,” he said and gave the waitress his credit card.

 
13

  WHEN HE DROPPED Harper off, she gave him the file he’d been asking for, but Keith wasn’t ready to go home, even with that. And he sure as hell didn’t want to drive by Nancy’s and see some other man’s car parked at her house. So he drove out to the lighthouse. He’d been on that side of the island when he visited Maisey, but he hadn’t looked around. Now that he’d learned the call that had brought Harper to his house two nights ago had been placed from this area, he wanted to see it through more careful eyes, to determine who was living out here and whether any of those people might be likely to place that call.

  Without any streetlights and no moon to speak of, it was darker than he’d expected, but at least it wasn’t raining. He pulled up to the lighthouse and watched the beacon swoop around for several minutes. Then he got out and walked as far as he could toward the ocean without getting his feet wet. The ground here quickly became soft and marshy.

  Had someone stood where he was standing, or somewhere close by, while making that call Wednesday night? Had that person stared out at the waves as he was doing now? Or—Keith turned to look behind him—was it someone who lived in one of the homes hidden behind the thick foliage?

  Bracing against the wind, which seemed to pass right through him, he squinted at his watch. It was after ten. Too late to knock on any doors. But because that call had been placed in the middle of the night, he hoped someone had noticed something. This side of the island didn’t get many visitors, especially after midnight.

  Tomorrow he’d canvass the area, he told himself and, with a sigh, trudged back to his car. He was close to Maisey’s. He could’ve driven over there in just a few minutes, shown her the file. But Chief Underwood told him there wasn’t anything in it he didn’t already know. And his sister would be busy putting her kids to bed—or if she’d already done that, she’d be spending some quiet time with Rafe.

  Feeling he belonged in that picture either way, he chose to call her instead. “Any word from Rocki and Landon?” he asked when she picked up.

  “No. Which is odd, considering we normally talk every day—sometimes more than once.”

  She sounded worried. “Have you tried calling them?”

  “Once, before I left for dinner, but she didn’t pick up.”

  “Well, I’ve called three times. Voice mail every time.”

  “Any idea what might be going on?”

  “None. Not since she told me Landon wasn’t on the island last Saturday. She’s pretty much clammed up since then.”

  “Do you think she’s mad that we asked?”

  “Who knows? Rafe says I need to reserve judgment and be patient. She’ll call when she can. I’m trying to do that, give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  Five years ago, they’d been so excited to find Roxanne—who’d been called Annabelle when they were children. They’d embraced her immediately, welcomed her back with such relief and excitement. And she’d become a big part of their lives. “I’ll call her again.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you get through.”

  He tried to reach Rocki but, like Maisey, he got only her voice mail. He waited through her greeting so he could leave a message. “Hey, Rock. This is your brother. Can you call me? Doesn’t matter how late.”

  After he disconnected, he thought about going over to Maisey’s, after all—just to burn some time. He’d slept all day, so he wasn’t remotely tired. And he couldn’t face returning to the empty mansion where his mother had died. He knew Maisey and her family would welcome him.

  However, he didn’t go there, because he really wanted to be somewhere else.

  He told himself that if he saw Nancy’s boyfriend’s car out front, he’d continue down the street. But there was no evidence that she had company. And she was home. He could see the flicker of her TV reflecting off the front window.

  So he parked at the curb.

  * * *

  Nancy was surprised when she heard the knock at her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. As she threw on a robe so she could answer, she worried that Tom had come back to try to talk her into changing her mind. He’d had a difficult time accepting “no.” Even after they’d left the restaurant he’d spent twenty minutes trying to convince her it was a mistake to break things off.

  But the person on her front step was too tall to be Tom. When she pushed a barking Simba aside so she could peer through her peephole, she could see nothing except a man’s chest.

  That was enough. She’d seen the same view many times before—knew exactly who it was.

  Self-consciously tightening the belt of her robe, she drew a deep breath. Then she pulled Simba back by the collar and told him to be quiet and sit.

  As soon as she opened the door, Keith’s gaze swept over her as if he liked what he saw, but she told herself he must’ve struck out with Chief Underwood, or he wouldn’t be here. And she wasn’t going to be anyone’s “if all else fails.” Especially Keith’s. She’d played that role in his life once before. It wasn’t a flattering or pleasant position.

  “Sorry to bother you.” His lopsided grin acknowledged that he knew he was somewhere he shouldn’t be.

  “No problem.” She liked his endearing expression, but she told herself she was a fool to find him endearing at all. Stay on your guard. She’d let him hurt her before; she wouldn’t let him do it again. “Is there...something you need?” she asked when he didn’t volunteer the reason for his visit.

  Her response caused that gorgeous smile to wilt. “You said you were hoping to buy the flower shop. I thought you might like to talk about it.”

  “Tonight?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Is this a bad time?” he asked with the reappearance of that sheepish smile.

  Simba was inching closer to the door, hoping to slip through, so she barred him with her leg. The fact that her leg was bare seemed to catch Keith’s attention. When he glanced down, he paused to stare for a moment, but he didn’t comment.

  “Um...” She was searching for some reason she shouldn’t invite him in, but couldn’t come up with one. She really did hope to buy the flower shop, which meant they had to have this conversation some time. Why not tonight? “Sure, okay. Come on in.”

  The moment he crossed the threshold, he crouched to scratch a tail-wagging Simba, who was exhibiting more than enough excitement for both of them. “Good boy! At least you still like me, huh?”

  Ignoring that, Nancy proceeded to slide the sacks from her shopping excursion to one side of the table. She could’ve invited him to sit in the living room, but the kitchen table felt more businesslike.

  “Simba’s foot is healing,” Keith said. “He’s not even favoring it anymore.”

  “Yeah. I’m relieved about that. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him.” She gestured toward a chair. “Would you like to sit down?”

  He peeked into one of the Victoria’s Secret bags she’d just moved and lifted the black teddy inside with one finger. “Looks like you went shopping.”

  “I did.”

  “Aren’t you going to get dressed?” he asked when she sat across from him.

  “Why?” she replied. “I’m covered.”

  “It’s a little...distracting to think you’re naked under there. That’s all.”

  “I’m not naked!”

  He tilted his chin up as he tried to peer down the opening of her robe. “Looks that way to me.”

  “Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. Anyway, don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m not worried, exactly. Just curious. If you’re not naked, what are you wearing?”

  She gestured toward the sacks. “What do you think?”

  “Oh. Right. Lingerie. Imagining you in something black and sheer—that’s much less distracting.”

  She knew he loved that sort of thing, but
so what? She’d worn plenty of lingerie for him before and it hadn’t changed the outcome of their relationship. Purposely ignoring his sarcasm, she stood up to get a pad of paper and a pen. “About the flower shop—”

  “Did you buy all this for Tom?” He waved at the pink sacks.

  She’d bought it to help her forget about him, but it hadn’t served its purpose. “More or less.”

  “Wow.” He whistled. “I hope he appreciated it.”

  “He didn’t get the chance.”

  “Because...”

  She wasn’t sure she should tell him, but she also felt it was pathetic to lie. That was what had gotten her into the date with Tom to begin with—trying to pretend she felt more than she did. “Because I broke things off with him.”

  “Why?”

  “He isn’t right for me.”

  “That’s what I thought!”

  She barked out a laugh. “As if you’d know!”

  “I met him. You can do better. A lot better.”

  “He’s a nice guy. We’re not...sexually compatible. At least, I don’t think we’d be. I’m not attracted to him in that way.”

  Leaning back, he folded his arms across his chest. “You were attracted to me.”

  She said nothing.

  “Anyway, what a shame,” he added.

  “I’ll live. I’ll find someone else,” she said with a shrug.

  “Until then you’ll have all this lingerie going to waste.”

  She raised one finger. “Don’t even suggest it.”

  He spread out his hands. “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m concerned for you.”

  “For me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure you are.” She shook her head. “It can go back to the store. That’s why I was trying it on, so I could decide what to return.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? If it looks terrible, I’ll tell you.”

  “Nice try. Now about the shop. I won’t have a big down payment, but I’ve got some savings. And my stepfather said he’d lend me a few thousand. I’ll give you whatever I can get together. I’m hoping we can work out monthly payments from there, if you’re open to the idea of...of accepting terms.”