Silver Linings

by Mary Brady

  Cynthia smiled kindly at Brianna.

  Brianna looked thoughtful and then nodded. “Miss MacKenzie is very nice.”

  “Is she your teacher?” Cynthia asked, and then sipped her tea.

  Brianna shrunk down in her seat as if she was suddenly shy again, but she was saved from any further questions by the arrival of a dish of baked macaroni and cheese.

  She smiled up at the waitress. “Thank you, Stella.”

  “Can I get you ladies anything else?”

  “No, thank you,” Cynthia and Delainey said simultaneously.

  They chatted more about the town, the schools, the parks-and-recreation opportunities.

  After a half hour or so, she looked at her watch and declared, “It’s time to get back to Jared and the kids before there’s a homicide.”

  A little harsh, but the woman was having a difficult time. She insisted on paying the check, left a twenty-dollar bill and walked out the door as abruptly as she had appeared.

  “What’s a hom’cide, Mom?”

  Very harsh, Delainey thought. “It’s when one person hurts another really bad.”

  “Like Janis does.”

  “Worse, sweetie, much worse. It’s when one person kills another.”

  “Why would somebody do that?”

  “Their mind doesn’t work right.”

  “I’m glad my mind works right.” She kicked her feet under the table and shoved another bite in her mouth. Evidently the issue was settled. Thank goodness.

  Delainey thought of Cynthia’s life and circumstances. Was there something just slightly off about the woman? Or was Delainey still feeling the paranoia Hunter had started with his talk about the woman from Chicago?

  “Next, my little poppet, we’re going to Aunt Christina’s and you’re going to spend an hour or two with her.”

  “I’m not a puppet.”

  “Of course you aren’t. You’re my sweetest girl.”

  “Can we go to Aunt Christina’s now?”

  “As soon as you finish your mac and cheese.”

  Fifteen minutes later she left her daughter and her sister at Cora, deeply involved in picking out wallpaper from sample books Gregory Miller from the variety store had dropped off. Christina had promised Brianna she could stay in one of the small front bedrooms when she visited but explained that the room had to be fixed up first.

  Hunter’s new condo was located on the far south end of Bailey’s Cove, a mile or so past where Shamus and Connie lived.

  She had no idea if she was brave enough for any of what he had to say to her or what he could do to her sanity just by looking at her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  DELAINEY PULLED INTO a parking space in front of the address Hunter had given her. She was a few minutes early, but he stood at the window of the second-floor condo watching and disappeared the moment he saw her. By the time she parked and got to the outer security door, he was there to let her inside the lobby.

  He looked drawn and tired, as if the day had been harrowing, as if sleepless nights were taking their toll on him. He had showered and finger-combed his hair with no part. Instead of the suit and tie, he wore a clean tailored white shirt open at the throat and jeans. When he took her arm and swept her hurriedly up to his condo without saying a word, she balked at the doorway.

  “Hunter, stop, please. Can it be that bad?”

  In answer he opened the door and held out a hand for her to enter. His spacious condo, painted in the standard off-white, surprisingly, had a lot of wood trim to offset the plainness. Furniture had been placed around in the appropriate spots and cardboard cartons of varying sizes were scattered throughout the room.

  The dining room table and chairs were covered with boxes and piles, but the couch and one side chair were in a box-free zone. The gas fireplace burned brightly in one corner of the living room space near the couch and chair. By the amount of stuff, if she hadn’t known differently, she would have thought he had moved here to stay, and her heart twisted painfully because it was not so.

  The warmth of the fire drew her to it and he followed.

  When she turned to look up into his face, she could see, most of all, he needed a friend. She stepped in, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

  “I am so sorry, Deelee,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  She leaned back and took his face in both her hands. His expression was so desolate, as though everything and everyone he had in the world were lost to him.

  How could anyone do this to him?

  She was not lost, she thought.

  “Hunter. I’m here.” She pressed her mouth to his.

  He responded instantly and deepened the kiss. When his mouth moved over hers, she answered his searching with her own.

  “Oh, Hunter.”

  Everything she wanted to feel for him bubbled up. Her searching hands roamed his body, up his back, through his hair and onto his face again as if she could not believe he was actually there kissing her, holding her.

  He rained kisses over her face and neck, making her feel wanted and cherished. His mouth found hers again and he dipped his tongue in to taste her and the need inside her exploded until she was sure she could not possibly get enough of him—ever.

  She wasn’t sure when her coat had come off, but she felt the chill as he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

  He lowered her to sit in the middle of the rumpled sheets of his king-size bed and brushed her hair back from her face. “Deelee, I will stop—”

  “Shut up,” she interrupted fiercely as she flicked her sweater off and tossed it away. The rest of her clothes followed and he obliged her by doing the same with his shirt and jeans.

  Apparently, big-city attorneys sometimes went commando.

  She knelt in the middle of the sheets and reached for him. He climbed back on the bed, embracing her naked body in his arms. The feeling of his heat against her was like coming home.

  Kissing and caressing, she found herself almost frantic. The more he gave to her, the more she took and the more she wanted, until he lowered them to the bed and entered her, giving her what she had craved for a very long time.

  She felt perfect and her release came swiftly, almost a scream of emotion as she pulsed around him. He followed her, shuddering until he rested on top of her, enveloping her in the warm moist cocoon of their lovemaking.

  After a minute, Hunter rolled off to give her a chance to take a breath.

  I love you, Hunter, she thought. I always have and I always will. She didn’t say any of those words out loud. He didn’t need to hear that right this minute, maybe ever. She didn’t need to say them now, either. Being here, feeling perfect, was enough.

  After a while their breathing quieted and eventually Hunter relaxed beside her. She ran her fingers down his smooth cheek and then through his hair, enjoying the soft springiness. Then she continued down the cords of his neck to his chest.

  My, but the man had been working out. His pecs were firm, sculpted, and there was his flat belly with a ripple of muscles—working out a lot.

  She leaned into him.

  “Hunter, I’ve missed you. Whatever happens in our lives, no matter how far apart we are, please always be my friend.”

  In answer he turned to face her and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her until she could no longer remember who she was or maybe she just didn’t care. He kissed her face and her neck and moved down to her breast. He took his time with her, as if he were trying to make up for what they had missed together, teasing, touching and retreating. More than once she begged him to enter her again, but each time, he resisted, until when he finally did, she cried out his name and fell headlong into bliss.

  Some part of her brain knew he followed her and the sa
tisfaction of that knowledge drove her over again.

  The daylight had faded into deep dusk once they came up for air. Hunter got off the bed and brought her his robe. She wrapped it around herself as he slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  He tugged her to him and kissed her hair.

  “Okay, Hunter,” she said against the cloth of his T-shirt pulled taut over his chest. “I’m here. Tell me why.”

  “Out near the fire?”

  She led the way and sat on the carpet before the warm flames. He sat cross-legged, searching her face as if wondering where to start.

  “The worst of it is—” he took a deep shuddering breath “—I have been considered a person of interest in the disappearance of a woman in Chicago.”

  He looked as if he must have expected her to gasp or get up and run away or something.

  “Did you hear me, Delainey?”

  “Of course I heard you. Someone suspects you of something you cannot possibly have done, no way, anytime, ever.” She reached out and put her hands on his knees. “Hunter, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be home, haven’t you.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up and his face became less tense.

  “Thanks for your confidence, Deelee.” He placed his hands over hers. “The law firm I work for stood behind me or I might still be in Chicago as a suspect.”

  She sat quietly to let him speak. Whatever it was, it all had to be said.

  “I met her over two years ago. She was a straightforward client. She needed to recapture control of her family business, some of it in Croatia and Bulgaria, and she needed to do it before she divorced her husband and he got it all. I was lead attorney on the case. I liked her. She was polite, intelligent and beautiful. After eighteen months, she, we, won the battle and to celebrate she hosted a party. My first clue that anything might be wrong was when I arrived at the party and none of the other guests showed up, but I was too much of a chump to realize there was anything amiss.

  “Champagne and the energy of a significant win must have gone to my head, because I slept with her that night. It wasn’t until a month later that I realized, as implausible as it seemed, she might have had someone flatten a tire, caused childcare to back out, even given one poor guy what seemed like a stomach bug just to be alone with me.”

  She did gasp at the thought of a woman going so far as to have poisoned someone. The concept of that much possessiveness escaped her.

  “She ordered in breakfast and said we should celebrate that we were finally together after all that time. Only, we weren’t together. Before that party, we hadn’t had any personal exchanges outside cordial greetings. I was still too slow to get it and marginalized the importance of the events.

  “I saw her a couple more times. We had dinner, went to the theater, but really only because she arranged them. We never slept together again. There was always something slightly off about her even on those occasions.”

  Something slightly off. Wasn’t that what she’d thought about Cynthia?

  “She started coming around the office and accused me of seeing other women. When I tried to break things off completely, she became covertly vindictive. She would show up at parties where she wasn’t invited and tell everyone she was with me. I was waiting for a client in a restaurant and she invited herself to join us. She knew I couldn’t get rid of her without a scene and losing the client. These types of things happened every week in the beginning and escalated to every few days.

  “Six months ago she disappeared, leaving behind a letter implicating me in her disappearance. Before that, she got close to several of the firm’s largest clients and jokingly let them know that if something happened to her, they should look to me.”

  “It’s almost unbelievable.” She pressed her palms to his knees again and squeezed.

  “Like quicksand. At first you don’t believe there’s a serious problem. When it’s too late to extricate yourself easily, it dawns on you what an idiot you’ve been. The only way for the firm to hang on to many of these clients was to make sure I was out of sight. My boss asked me to take a year’s leave and then if things had resolved at the end, I could come back. Shamus and Connie had been courting me for several weeks by that time and the fit seemed perfect. I’d come here for a year, help Shamus and go back to my life.”

  She bowed her head slightly at this. She would keep him here forever if she could, but would that be better than what Callista White had done? If he stayed anywhere, it would be his choice and his alone.

  “The only people in Chicago who knew I was coming here were the partner I work closely with at the firm and my secretary. The partner has enough world and legal experience to understand women like her, and the secretary is a grandmother who’s been with the firm for about a decade. No one else should have been able to find me until my name started showing up on court cases.”

  The more he talked, the more uneasy she felt about Cynthia Wenger, the offhanded comments and the oddities in her behavior.

  “So let me tell you about the woman I had tea with today. She said she and her husband are thinking of moving to Bailey’s Cove with their two children.”

  He lowered his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

  “You saw her. At Miller’s that day. She was leaving as you arrived.”

  Now he looked so wary it was frightening.

  “Her husband is being transferred from Pittsburgh and she’s checking out the town to see if she wants to raise her children here.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Well, she was wearing a red wig—”

  “A wig.” He put his hands behind his head and flared his elbows out as he sat up straighter. “Have you any idea what color her hair is?”

  “Right now I don’t think she has any to speak of. She said she just finished a round of chemotherapy.”

  “Did she have eyebrows?”

  “Um.” Did she? “Yes, dark brown ones. That means she may or may not have had chemotherapy.”

  “Did she have one slightly crooked tooth on the upper left side of her mouth?”

  Delainey thought hard about what the woman’s teeth looked like and then she got a vision of her. She couldn’t remember her teeth, but the woman licked her upper lip with the tip of tongue.

  “Hunter, I—”

  He grabbed both of her hands. “She did that?”

  “What?”

  “That thing you just did with your tongue. You licked your upper lip.”

  Delainey did it again. “Um. Yes. Do you think the woman I met was the woman from Chicago?”

  “It’s an odd habit, wouldn’t you say, to lick her lip like that?”

  “Well, kids do it all the time.”

  “What was the woman’s name?”

  “Cynthia Wenger. I remember being reassured by the silver key ring medallion. It had CW engraved on it.”

  “She’s here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Callista White. That’s her name.”

  “CW.” Delainey pushed up from the floor as panic gripped her hard. “I have to call my sister.”

  Unable to control the free-flowing energy, she paced as she talked to her sister. “Unless the woman followed me, she would have no way of knowing Brianna is with you. That’s one thing in our favor.”

  “Other than a strange woman coming to my door, how would I know her?”

  “She may be wearing a deep auburn wig or she may have long dark hair. You’ll know her by sight. She’s tall and she moves like a cat, a sleek rich one. She might just appear from nowhere.”

  “I’ll call Mom and Dad and we’ll go over there. As far as Brianna knows, it’ll be a big game for her birthday,” Christina said.

  “I’ll stop by my house and get the cake and presents an
d bring them over.” With shaking hands, Delainey thumbed off the call.

  She turned to Hunter. “Everything is all right. Christina is going to take Brianna over to our parents’ and stay there, and I have to go.”

  “I’ll follow you and see that you’re safe,” he said as he took one shaking hand in his.

  “That’s probably not necessary, but the offer to have cake is still open. The location is changed. My parents haven’t moved since you last visited them, so they shouldn’t be any trouble for you to find if you decide to come.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea, either.”

  Delainey’s phone rang. It was Christina.

  “Brianna’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere and she’s gone.”

  * * *

  “I HAVE TO GO.” Delainey ran to the bedroom.

  He ran after her and stopped her as she frantically gathered up her clothing. “What happened?”

  Her eyes were wild with fear. “She’s gone. Brianna’s gone. Christina can’t find her anywhere.”

  She jerked her arm away and ran into the bathroom to change. He pulled on clothes and shoes and was ready when she came out.

  “I’ll bring my car in case we need it and I’ll call the police. You get to your sister’s.”

  “Tell the police Christina is at Cora, the middle Victorian on Treacher Avenue.”

  He grabbed her again before she could race away. “Be careful.”

  Without answering, she raced through the condo, grabbing her coat on the way to the door. He watched her get safely into her car as he called the police.

  The police dispatcher was calm and efficient. A pair of officers were already in the area and would meet Delainey when she arrived on Treacher Avenue.

  Hunter drove slowly toward Cora, looking out for the metallic-blue car Callista had been driving that day at Miller’s. He looked up side streets and examined every approaching car carefully.

  When he arrived at Cora there were two squad cars parked out front with lights flashing red and blue on the neighborhood building.

  He knew almost everyone in the room. The Talbot sisters, with their arms around each other and their backs to him, were facing a semicircle of four officers, three from his and Delainey’s class in high school.