That Unexpected Kiss

by Tamara Ferguson

  “Yeah. They had a water leak, and had to shut down for the weekend.”

  Dylan nodded. “I do have that paperwork ready to go for the Scott property.”

  Brent nodded. “Bring it on by.”

  “I’ll be on the lake today. But how about I swing by on Monday?”

  “That’ll work,” Brent answered, looking at Julie. “How are things going Julie? I hear you’re going to marry this guy?”

  Julie looked taken aback. “Maybe,” she answered, grinning at Dylan. But then she seemed to be looking at Brent strangely.

  Brent was laughing softly as they continued through the doorway.

  After walking through the parking lot, Dylan turned toward Julie before sliding onto his bike. They’d driven different vehicles today so Dylan could go straight to work.

  “What is it? You had a really weird look on your face for a minute there, when we were talking to Brent.”

  Julie pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. It’ll come to me, I suppose, later today. The situation just struck me as familiar when we were talking. Like déjà vu or something.”

  Dylan kissed her and grinned. “Have a great day.”

  She smiled. “You too. See you later.”

  * * *

  Downright creepy was what Dylan thought as he walked into the warden’s office. Brent’s laughter had been eerily strange when he and Julie had exited the restaurant.

  Dylan looked around the office with satisfaction. He’d already begun making a big dent in chucking the useless paperwork last evening and had decided to give the office a good cleaning at the same time. Plus the walls would get a fresh coat of paint next week while he was at it.

  Soon, Dylan was out on the lake, feeling the breeze against his face as he zipped across the water. He would investigate some of the nooks and crannies where fishermen liked to hide. It was a calm clear morning and the sun was coming up when he began patrolling along the opposite shore where slews of fishermen were scattered.

  A few tickets were issued. One of the men didn’t have a license, and another had some undersized bass that should’ve been thrown back into the lake. But Dylan was getting his point across; the laws would be enforced.

  As Dylan was ready to swing around further along the shore, he drove by Kate and Murphy’s place and saw Murphy sitting outside on the deck with a cup of coffee.

  To Dylan’s surprise, Murphy motioned with his hand for Dylan to join him. Never one to refuse a cup of coffee after finishing his own, Dylan eased the small cruiser into the dock.

  “Murph.” Dylan nodded after shutting down the motor.

  “Dylan. Need some coffee?”

  “Sure. That’d be great,” Dylan answered, sitting down on one of the Adirondack chairs lining the front of the house.

  “Kate working?” Dylan asked.

  “Of course,” Murphy answered.

  They chatted for a while when Murphy returned with Dylan’s coffee, as well as a refill for himself.

  Finally, Murphy got to the real reason he’d invited Dylan over.

  “I heard that Julie’s been putting you off about the ‘m’ word.”

  He should’ve figured. “How does everyone seem to know about these things?” Looking out across the lake, he was asking himself more than Murphy.

  Murphy grinned. “It’s a small town.” He hesitated. “Want some advice?”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to give it to me whether I want it or not,” Dylan muttered.

  Murphy chuckled. “Get the ring. Bring her over to Dragonfly Pointe. Take her up to the top of Crystal Rock.”

  Dylan was definitely puzzled. “Why?”

  “Cause it’s tradition. There’s folklore associating Dragonfly Pointe with new beginnings and happily ever afters. So, if you care about Julie, you’ll want to ensure that the two of you have everlasting love.”

  Dylan studied Murphy’s face trying to decide whether he was pulling some kind of practical joke or not. “Nah.” He couldn’t decide one way or another. “You’re kidding me?”

  “Nope. That’s exactly what I did with Kate. I know that you and me didn’t exactly start off on the best of terms, but I was just jealous. You gotta trust me here.” Murphy hesitated. “You could always ask Kate if you think I’m kidding.”

  “Nah. I don’t need to. I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?” Dylan finished his coffee, and standing up from his chair, he reached for Murphy’s hand.

  Murphy shook it and gave him a rueful smile. “Take care. Best of luck.”

  “Thanks,” Dylan answered, stepping back onto the cruiser.

  Grinning at Murphy, he revved up the engine and was on his way.

  * * *

  It was mid-afternoon and Dylan was returning to the station when he got a call on his cell phone.

  “Dylan? This is Sam. Can you get into my office right away?”

  “Not a problem. I was only planning on doing paperwork this afternoon.” He hesitated. “What’s up?”

  “Bart’s here, and he’s got a lot to say. He wants you here too.”

  Dylan was momentarily at a loss for words. Bart Bradshaw wanted to talk to him? “Give me fifteen minutes,” he finally answered, disconnecting his phone.

  Without even stopping to go inside the office to see if there were any messages, Dylan revved up his bike and he was on his way.

  He reached Sam’s office ten minutes later and quickly shut down his bike, taking his helmet off as he walked inside.

  “They’re waiting in Sam’s office.” The deputy sitting behind the front desk let Dylan know. “You can leave your helmet here if you’d like.”

  Dylan nodded, laying his helmet on the desk. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the doorway into Sam’s office, closing the door behind him.

  What was it about Bart that seemed different today? That was it, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It was probably the first time Dylan had seen him in anything other than a three-piece suit.

  “Alright,” Bart began, obviously struggling with some inner demons. “I haven’t had the guts to turn them in before now. But I just can’t stand it anymore. I’ve never actually seen anything, but I’ve known what’s been going on, deep down, my entire life.”

  “Go ahead, Bart.”

  “It’s my parents. I think my dad might’ve killed Leanne Thompson.”

  “Your dad?” Dylan dropped into a chair. Yesterday, he’d gotten the impression that Marilyn had been the one responsible.

  “I walked into the office that day when my ball game was rained out. We had cable TV and I’d watch it back in the storeroom when I didn’t feel like going home. You can probably understand why? And that’s where I found Julie. She was laying on the couch in the storeroom and she’d obviously been drugged. I carried her out to my car and drove around with her until she woke up, and then I took her home.”

  “What did you think was going on?” Dylan asked gruffly, staring into Bart’s eyes. As far as Dylan could tell, Bart was telling the truth. He seemed to be in agony.

  “I think,” Bart paused, “no, I know my father likes little girls. And my mother has been ignoring it her entire life. I’m pretty sure my mom just cleans up my dad’s messes.”

  Dylan’s eyes went wide. “How was Julie? Did your father...?”

  “No,” Bart answered firmly. “She was fine. But I had to get her the hell out of there. And what the heck could my dad say about it after he discovered I took her home?”

  Dylan dropped his head between his knees and breathed in deeply before looking back at Bart.

  “Anything else?” Dylan asked.

  Bart sighed heavily. “I realize that what I have to say may destroy our real estate business, but heck if everything is built on lies anyway...”

  Sam came over and sat next to Bart, patting him on the back. “Go ahead. Tell Dylan.”

  “Throughout my entire life, Dad has been landing property for all kinds of strange reasons. In fact the property that Crystal Visions is on, that h
e sold to Jake Loughlin? I have reason to believe that blackmail was involved when he first obtained it. I was just a kid back then. But the only reason he sold it to Jake was because my dad would’ve been liable for improvements and back taxes.” Bart hesitated. “But Dylan. About that adjoining property that my dad is trying to sell you? I wouldn’t be surprised if somehow my dad was responsible for Jerry Scott falling into the lake and getting ripped up by that boat’s motor.”

  * * *

  They had no proof. They only had Bart’s words to follow up on. What had happened to Leanne Thompson?

  Dylan was still trying to get past the fact that Julie had only been moments away from being molested. How was he even going to tell her? But it explained that instinctive trust that she’d always had in Bart. Bart had saved her, and somewhere deep down she’d probably known.

  When Dylan was ready to start up his bike, his cell phone began to ring and he looked at the screen.

  “Mom?”

  “Dylan. Do you know where Julie’s family cottage is located?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Get over here quick. I’m here with Julie’s dad.”

  Dylan asked, “What’s going on?”

  But his mother had already disconnected, so he put away his phone. Revving up his bike’s engine, Dylan was on his way.

  Arriving at the cottage fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the driveway and ran up the back steps and into the kitchen where his mother was sitting at the table next to Julie’s father.

  His mom had been crying, and Jeff looked slightly irate. Dylan had a feeling that his mother had been confessing some secrets.

  “Dylan,” she cried, pointing at the front page of an old newspaper. “I can’t believe it. Jeff and I were putting my empty luggage upstairs in the attic and I saw this. Look. It’s him. It’s the man who killed your father!”

  Dylan looked at the paper and his jaw dropped open. “Brent Bradshaw?” How could that be? Supposedly, Brent had been here in Crystal Rock working in the real estate business, and Dylan had skimmed across his name when he’d been eliminating suspects.

  Dylan dropped into the chair and started punching numbers in on his phone. “Jake? We have a big problem.”

  “Sam already called me, Dylan,” Jake answered.

  “That’s not everything. Brent Bradshaw? Not only is he mixed up with the disappearance of Leanne Thompkins, he’s responsible for killing my father. He’s Wallace Brewster.”

  “Where are you Dylan?” Jake asked immediately.

  “At the Thompkins cottage at Stone Lake?”

  “I’ll find it.”

  When Dylan disconnected the phone, Jeff Thompkins was wearing a fierce frown. “What the hell is going on here?”

  He held Jeff’s gaze. “Brent Bradshaw was apparently trying to molest Julie when she was six years old, and I believe your wife might’ve been killed trying to stop him.”

  “Oh, Dylan,” Anne said, covering her mouth in horror.

  Jumping up onto his feet, Jeff roared, “I’ll kill that son of a bitch.”

  Dylan stood up, attempting to calm him. “Hold on Jeff. Right now, we still need proof.”

  Jeff began pacing the kitchen and halted, looking at Anne first and then at Dylan. “Anne’s your mother?”

  Dylan nodded. “She’s been searching for my dad’s killer for over twenty years.”

  “And then what?” he asked, gazing at Anne.

  “I don’t know.” His mother’s eyes met Jeff’s as she gave him a rueful smile. “I wouldn’t mind sticking around here. After all, we’re going to be in-laws.”

  Jeff snorted. “We’re a hell of a lot more than that already.”

  His mother had apparently told Jeff exactly what he wanted to hear, because he immediately calmed down and sat down again next to Anne at the table.

  She reached for his hand.

  “Now what?” Jeff asked Dylan.

  “We wait for Jake.”

  “Does that mean...?”

  “Yep,” Dylan answered. “I’m also FBI.”

  Jeff snarled, “You better not break my daughter’s heart.”

  “Not a chance. But if she never says yes, she might just break mine,” Dylan admitted, grimacing.

  Jeff gave him a half-smile before looking at Anne and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Apparently, he’d already forgiven her for not being totally truthful as well.

  When Jake arrived five minutes later, Anne went to the fridge and brought out some bottled water for everyone from inside.

  Dylan slugged his down. He suddenly realized he’d missed lunch today with all the crazy things that’d been happening.

  “What next, Jake?”

  “We need proof. If we sit here and think, I’m sure we can all come up with a plan to get him in custody without too much commotion.”

  But at that moment, Dylan’s phone rang. And when he saw the name show up on his caller ID, he knew it was too late for that.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Leaving Dylan after breakfast, Julie stopped by Kate’s house for a few minutes. But Kate was on her way out the doorway, apparently to meet a client. So after telling Kate and Murphy about Dylan’s proposals, giving them each a good laugh, Julie decided to go home for a while. It was time to begin making Dylan’s home into their own, and he’d given her carte blanche for decorating the entire house.

  She walked through the house, which consisted of a lot of empty rooms. Apparently, the room that was now the master would be converted totally into a den and office when the upstairs was finished. Dylan had told Julie to start choosing the layout for their master suite.

  She spent a few hours browsing through magazines and picking colors and styles of furniture she liked. It was something that she’d never given much thought about, living in dorms and apartments since the time she’d graduated high school.

  She loved the blues and greens and purples that’d been used in the kitchen backsplash, so she decided to go from there with the color scheme for the entire house. Soon, she’d delegated a purpose for all of the empty rooms, and made a long list of items she’d like for each.

  After she was finished, she made herself a sandwich for lunch and decided to sit outside and enjoy the beautiful day while reading through the notebooks she’d discovered in her mother’s belongings.

  Julie had changed into shorts and a tank and was wearing sunglasses as the sun beat down where she was laying stretched in the recliner. She was studying the contents of the two thinnest notebooks first. Printed neatly in her mother’s hand, the first was a list of business owners in the community, while the second was filled with names that Julie didn’t recognize. Some of the names in the second notebook had check marks beside them.

  The thickest notebook seemed to be research of some sort; property information, it looked like, since numbers associated with the lots were listed along with names and dates. Julie reached for the second notebook again, and sure enough the names that were checked matched the details inside the thicker notebook.

  What the heck had her mother been doing? The list of business owners was a puzzle. There were eight names circled, including Brent Bradshaw. One person was someone who owned a local bar, another owned a resort, and W. Vanderburgh, Julie recognized as the former owner of the Dragonfly Inn.

  A menacing voice intruded on her thoughts. “I was wondering what’d happened to that notebook your mother was constantly writing in.”

  She looked up, puzzled. Brent Bradshaw was standing near the patio, leaning against the railing that surrounded the deck below.

  Julie had known Brent her entire life, but for some strange reason, she was suddenly terrified.

  “You remembered. Didn’t you?” he asked softly. “I could see it in your eyes when you were leaving the Tap this morning.”

  And at that moment, everything came back to her. Yes, she’d been having some strange flashes of recognition this morning. Brent was the one who’d struck her mother all t
hose years ago.

  “It was you,” Julie cried. “You killed my mother!”

  * * *

  “No one would think of looking for you here.”

  Julie’s eyes searched the room. After pulling out a gun, Brent had quickly escorted Julie down a path leading to the adjoining property. For a moment, Julie considered fighting back, but it was chilling to realize Brent seemed to be totally at ease with the weapon in his hand. He’d unlocked the door of the Scott home and escorted her inside where he’d apparently been prepared to leave her.

  He’d moved aside much of the furniture, and a kitchen chair was resting in the middle of the living room. Leading her inside, Brent made Julie sit down, handcuffing her to the chair.

  “What are you planning on doing with me?”

  Pulling out his phone, Brent ignored her.

  “I’ve got your girlfriend. Here’s what I want.”

  Brent went on to recite a list of demands including a deposit of several million dollars into a certain account, along with a plane at the Crystal Rock Airport, ready and waiting for him to be taken out of the country.

  He listened to whatever Dylan was saying at the other end of the line.

  Brent snarled, “Do you think I give a rat’s ass what happens to her? Or that sniveling idiot I call a son?” He eyed Julie with cool calculation. “Two hours. I knew who you were as soon as I saw you talking to your mom this morning. I’ve been keeping up with the news in Lake Geneva. You were a little more difficult to keep track of, and today I finally figured out why after I remembered all the times I’ve seen you with Jake Loughlin these past couple years. You’ve been undercover. Haven’t you?”

  He hesitated, looking at Julie again. “Get that plane ready and waiting for me at the airport in exactly two hours or you’ll never see your girlfriend again. And make sure nobody’s around except for the pilot.” Brent disconnected the phone.