The last death that had hit Burke this close to home had been his father’s. In death the old bastard had reached him in ways he hadn’t been able to in life.
Luz was devilry and sweetness, and if there was something about him she didn’t like she made sure he was the first to hear it. He appreciated her for that. Despite the hell Burke and Sofia had brought down on themselves, he’d wanted to say a proper good-bye to Luz.
A lot of goddamn good that did. His argument with Sofia at the gas pumps still rang in his ears. He turned up the volume on the radio and kept driving.
Sofia Mercer was twisted perfection. And as long as he had her image revving him up, as long as his warped judgment kept falling back to the sight of her hot, tight body dressed up in black leather and pink high heels, nothing would cool him.
So he wouldn’t wait out this storm on his boat with a tumbler of something ice-cold, as he’d intended. Didn’t matter all that much.
Accepting the change of plans, he turned onto a road that’d take him to the heart of town and away from his sanctuary on the water.
CHAPTER 3
This was familiar, Sofia thought. Under the dusky gray billows that left soft trails against the darkening sky, the narrow side roads wove into town. She’d missed how at this time of year the spring cut itself short and yielded to summer.
In the backseat, Tish stretched across Joss to poke her head out the window. After a moment of letting the air whip against her face, she abruptly began to bark at anything in sight or hearing range—birds, rustling branches and leaves, the crunching sound of a twig being split beneath a tire.
“If you’re strongly considering establishing some authority with this dog, now would be an excellent time to start,” Joss suggested.
“Easy, Tish.” Sofia snapped her fingers twice to coax the dog away from the window and then raised the glass. In turn Tish pressed her body against the door and howled fiercely. She either was restless from being confined to the car—good thing Sofia hadn’t allowed Joss to strap a seat belt around the dog—or had gotten a whiff of a scent that agitated her. Or Tish, too, was mourning Luz. “Sorry, Tish, but I can’t let you go.”
At the next turn to her left was the town’s showpiece, an enormous marble slab that was now surrounded by carefully tended landscaping. Engraved in calligraphy were the words Welcome to Eaves. God Bless Our Town.
A memory of voices as gentle as faraway whispers surfaced.
If I can’t get a new heart…Burke, listen to me.
Stop it, Sofia. I don’t want to talk about that.
Too fucking bad. If the transplant doesn’t happen…if I die, you can’t go back to being stupid, okay?
What are you talking about?
Getting high. You went the entire day without doing blow or smoking weed. That’s cool. It’s good.
Shit, Sofia. You’ve been in my face, that’s why. When are you going to go home already?
I don’t know. Dad’s not looking for me, anyway.
Luz might be.
You’re going to miss me in your face, Burke.
I told you to stop it.
Why? Tell me why you don’t want to talk about it and I’ll go home.
We’re…we’re cool, you and me. Friends, right? So I don’t want to think about…Damn it.
We’ll still be cool, Burke. Friends.
Sofia flexed her fingers over the steering wheel, chided herself for letting the memory win out over all the thoughts competing for priority. She’d lived, and so had he, but they hadn’t stayed friends.
Shoving herself away from the past, she approached Shore Seasons. Advertised as five-star luxury for guests on a two-star budget, the group of cottages was tourist bait, plunked right in the center of an enormous, eclipsing forest.
At the entrance she hit the brakes and scanned the area. There was an office building and parking lot in the forefront, and nestled deeper into the trees were the cottages. Yellow light poured from the porch lamps, shining over cobblestone walkways, trimmed hedges, and flowers on the cusp of budding.
Their cottage boasted an elegant sitting room with a fireplace, a pair of large, inviting beds, and a claw-footed bathtub. They hadn’t had time to absorb the details or do much more than claim beds, dump luggage, and change clothes before heading to the cemetery for the service.
Sofia could use a hot bath and hours of sleep. She wasn’t accustomed to turning in so early, and doubted she would get much rest if she tried. Last night she had lain wide awake for hours, staring into darkness before eventually drifting into a shallow sleep.
A rap on the driver’s-side window stole her attention.
“Don’t lower that window,” Joss warned.
“Joss, we’re not in New York City.”
“So? This might be a postcard-cute small town, but think of how many horror movies are set in small towns.”
Sofia’s hand shot away from the window control button. She turned to meet a man’s dark eyes. She knew the car doors were locked, but Joss’s logical advice infused her with paranoia and she glanced down to make sure.
Wind caressed the man’s hair, nudging a dense brown lock over his brow. He didn’t even blink. Instead he kept his gaze steady on hers and gestured for her to open the window. When she didn’t he cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered through the glass, “Need help?”
She could clearly see the office building straight ahead, its fancy logo glowing white over a green-and-beige awning. Firmly shaking her head, she drove past him to claim the available parking space nearest to the entrance.
“Phone,” she muttered aloud, rifling through her purse. She found the smartphone and was relieved that it was getting decent reception. She shifted to look around for the man. He was gone, almost as if he’d vanished into the trees.
Moving quickly, they secured Tish’s leash, let her out, locked the SUV, and then rushed into the office as though bats from the depths of hell were nipping their asses.
“Stop! Stop right there.” Rising from a tufted armchair behind the reception desk and clutching a glossy fashion magazine was a dough-faced woman with round eyes that narrowed into slits as they stalled on the dog. “What is that doing inside my office?”
Frightened by the shrill shriek, Tish howled and rose to her hind legs. The receptionist startled, sending a pair of subscription postcards fluttering to the desk.
Damn it. This woman wasn’t all warm smiles and sincere condolences, as the gal who’d greeted them at checkin had been. Getting permission to let Tish stay overnight was going to be hard enough to sell without the dog showing her ass.
Sofia quickly stroked Tish from the top of her head down the length of her back. Pressing down on the dog’s posterior, she whispered, “Sit now. It’s okay.” I’m lying. I’m lying to a dog and myself. Tish plunked down on her rear end and began sniffing the scents of pine and honey. Sofia cleared her throat and turned to the receptionist. “Hi. I’m Sofia Mercer and this is Joss Vail.”
“The New Yorkers, right?” the receptionist asked with a note of…derision?
“Uh, yup, that’s us.”
“Paget told me about you. She didn’t tell me you intended to sneak a dog into your cottage. She has absolutely no authority to make these decisions, but I tend to follow up behind the summer help. She part-timed in Luz’s sex store and I gave her more hours to help her out after, well, you know. But deception’s a no-no. I doubt she’ll last here through the Fourth of July.”
Harsh. Sofia didn’t want to be the reason for anyone losing a gig, especially since Paget had already lost the employment Luz had provided. “She didn’t know about Tish. This isn’t a plan to break rules. We drove in from Manhattan for Luz’s funeral and someone gave me her dog. There wasn’t an opportunity to figure out where she’d stay tonight—”
“No animals allowed.” The woman—the nameplate on the desk said A. Oakley—gathered the postcards and tucked them into the magazine. “I can forgive the stench that…creature…br
ought into my office, but now you need to turn around and escort it outside.”
Hostility, blazing red and raw, hit Sofia. The woman stood petite in a bronze-colored suit with hair the hue of strained carrots and eyes the color of dirty dishwater. “Ms. Oakley, please—”
“Mrs. Oakley.” Indiscreetly she held up her hand so that the diamond on her ring reveled in the light. “But call me Anne. No harm in keeping things pleasant. You are paying guests after all.”
“Anne?” Joss said. “No shit, Anne Oakley? Annie Oakley? People have a lot of fun with that, don’t they?”
“Joss!”
Joss repented with a sheepish look and a solemn “Sorry about that.”
Anne Oakley eyed them critically. “I won’t claim to know how things usually work for a couple of hip New York twentysomethings, but here at Shore Seasons, our policies apply to everyone. No pets allowed means no pets allowed—especially Luz’s bitch.”
So this woman knew Aunt Luz. And from the tone she’d adopted, they hadn’t been warm and fuzzy friends. Even though a female dog was technically a bitch, Sofia was thinking that right now it took a bitch like Anne to know one.
“Tish is a guest, too,” Sofia tried.
“Guest?” Anne swung around, circling her chair to pluck a thick binder from a shelf. Slamming it down in front of her, she went on, “When potential guests book reservations, they’re made fully aware of our policies. Pets of any kind, especially Luz Azcárraga’s b—”
Sofia cut in. “If you call her ‘bitch’ again, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Consider getting in touch with the town animal shelter, look into boarding.”
“It’s only overnight. You know, we do have direct access to our cottage and could’ve sneaked this dog in. But we wanted to ask permission and negotiate this rationally.”
“Each of our cottages is thoroughly inspected after guests check out. Signs of animals on our estate would not have served well for you.”
“Tish is a well-behaved show dog.” The show dog part was true. As for the well-behaved part, the jury was still out.
The door swung open and the man from the parking lot strode in. Sharp. No other word seemed capable of capturing the ironed-suit-and-expensive-shoes look of him. Dark, windswept hair framed a frowning face. His narrow-set eyes settled on Joss and his mouth curved beneath a thin mustache.
Joss, whose arms were crossed and expression tense, visibly tossed her small-town-horror-movie caution aside and smiled at him. Tish interrupted the trance, bouncing up on all fours and growling low.
Judge not, Sofia wanted to caution herself, but she couldn’t help falling into agreement with the dog. There was something about this man that threw her defenses into panic mode.
“Get that mutt out of here,” Anne advised, tugging Sofia back to the crisis at hand. To the man she said, “Mr. Strayer, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?”
Moving to the coffeepot, he said, “You’re with someone now. I’ll wait.”
Anne addressed Sofia. “Have a good night.”
“How can you be so callous? This dog’s owner—my great-aunt—was buried today. I cannot and will not leave a living being in a car or on the street overnight.”
“Then I’ll allow a cancellation. Full refund. It’s the best I can do. I need a copy of your identification, the reference number, and the credit card used. Expect your money in about three to five business days.”
Joss’s uttered “Oh, shit, now what?” weighed on Sofia.
The man moseyed to the door and slipped outside again.
“No refund, no cancellation, Anne,” she decided, “because Joss is staying.” Patting Joss’s shoulder, she said, “You stay. Tish and I are taking off. I can’t leave her alone. There’s a motel that’s been around for ages. Maybe we can get a room there. If not, I’ll keep looking until I find someone who’ll let us stay the night.”
“Hey, wait,” Joss said, her voice low, “who’s going to put you and a dog up?”
“I don’t know. People in this town loved Luz. Even if they don’t like me, they’ll take Tish as a solid to Luz.”
“Why wouldn’t anyone like you?”
“I said before. It’s com—”
“Complicated.” Joss nodded, as if she understood, but Sofia knew she didn’t.
Guiding Tish out of the office, the three headed to the SUV. The man lurked nearby, holding his coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Sofia discreetly wrapped her fingers around the small container of pepper spray she kept on her key chain.
Moving toward the car, she felt him watching them. Then she heard his footsteps on the ground. She wasn’t fragile anymore. She could defend herself now. She was fully prepared to whirl around, blind him with the spray, and send a knee hard into his balls.
“It’s not necessary to spray me in the face with that.”
She and Joss turned quickly.
“I saw your hand fumble for it,” he added, his mouth forming a slow smile. “My name’s Aeneas Strayer. I paid my respects to your aunt, but it wasn’t the best time to approach you.”
“You knew Aunt Luz well enough to offer your respects. Anne Oakley in there seemed surprised to see you in her office. From the sound of things, you’re a local. So I need to ask: Did you follow me here?”
The slow sip he took from the coffee cup afforded him too much time to devise an answer. “I only wanted an opportunity to talk, Sofia. Luz and I had an ongoing conversation. Business details. I was hoping you and I could continue that conversation.”
Sofia didn’t intend to discuss business with anyone but her great-aunt’s attorney. “I’m sure if I need to get in touch I’ll be able to find you, Mr. Strayer.”
“Be sure that you do,” he said after a moment of silent stillness. Carefully he considered the ash and smoke at the tip of the cigarette, then he let it fall to the pavement, screwed his shoe against it, and went back inside the office.
In a sixty-second time span, she and Joss hustled Tish into the car, got in, and made tracks for their cottage.
“Luz sure had a knack for surrounding herself with attractive men,” Joss commented. “That guy, though. Hmm, can’t put my finger on it.”
“Because you have a boyfriend?”
“Ha. No, I mean I can’t figure him out.”
“Fortunately you won’t have to. Whatever business stuff Luz had going with him, it’s for me to untangle. As of tomorrow morning you’re off the hook and will never have to set your pedicured feet in Eaves, Massachusetts, again.”
“It’s not a hardship, hanging in here with you. Friends stick together when things are great and when things are shitty. Neither of us has had many great days. I feel guilty about having the cottage to myself.”
“Your guilt’s no good here. You and Mr. Six-Figure Salary were probably going to phonesex all night anyway, and God knows I don’t want to overhear that.”
At the cottage, Sofia freshened her makeup and combed her hair before repacking her overnight bag. So much for a hot bath in a claw-footed tub.
“What’s the name of this motel you’re headed to?” Joss asked, walking her to the door.
“White Anchor. It’s a no-tell motel.”
“No tell?”
“Cheating spouses, two-timing lovers. They come for a little discretion and don’t tend to mind the thin walls, one-ply toilet paper, and drafty rooms. The unscrambled porn channels are a plus.”
“If I were rude, I’d ask how you came to be so knowledgeable about a place like that.”
“Funny thing about no-tell motels in tell-all towns—eventually everyone finds out.”
“Oh. So you don’t have firsthand experience?”
“Sorry, no dirty stories here.” Not that she hadn’t wanted some firsthand experience with Burke, the guy who in high school had pushed her past all her boundaries except that one.
“You’d endure a motel bursting with people fucking but not Peter and me phone-sexing? Not saying
that we were going to.”
“You were.”
Joss cleared her throat. “What if your plans don’t pan out?”
“I told you I’ll search for a friendly face. Then there’s the lawyer. Bautista. Maybe he can help.”
“Know where to find him?”
“He said he was going to this bar near Aunt Luz’s boutique. If he’s not there I’ll find him. I have his card.”
“Be careful. Call me.”
*
Sofia sat in her car as the White Anchor Motel’s neon lettering shimmered over the rain-dotted hood. “Well, my darling Tish, it appears we’re thoroughly screwed.”
No pets allowed, the sleepy-eyed, whiskered man at the front desk had said when she mentioned Tish. His condolences about Luz—“Beautiful broad, she was”—and he’d smiled kindly to soften the disappointment, but policy was policy. She understood and respected that, but was stunned to find so many closed doors in a place that’d once been her home.
Not quite discouraged, though, she turned the key in the ignition and set out for Aunt Luz’s boutique.
Blush, illustrating sensuality from its pale pink shake-shingle siding to its brass accents to its tastefully but unmistakably erotic window displays, sat on a corner lot on Society Street. Directly across and wedged together were a stationery shop, an apothecary, and a laundromat and dry cleaner—Suds when she’d known it, but now called The Dirty Bastards.
Society Street was the heartbeat and lifeblood of Eaves—or it had been, as Sofia recalled it. Not particularly pretty, but like any living being’s heart, its function was vital to keep all else in good working order.
Here the streets were grimier, the buildings colored with character, rusted iron, and washed-out brick veneers. The residential neighborhoods tucked close to Society were quaint and their curbs lined with vehicles. People lived hard, worked hard, and played hard here. Everything outside of this dim sphere belonged to what her great-aunt had none-too-affectionately dubbed the Affluents—the wealthy who liked to throw their dime around. They’d molded Eaves into their kingdom—dominating the town with beachside mansions and award-winning architecture, and one by one devouring businesses that didn’t jell with the image they wanted the town to portray.
Meant to Be Mine Page 3
