In the Heart of Windy Pines
Page 15
Then he’d found his way to the back of the property, where there was an old carriage house, an old brick smokehouse, some other buildings, and a brick path winding between them all. At this point, he had begun to wonder what he was doing and he’d decided it was time to go back to bed. The second he’d decided this, however, a door up on the second floor of the carriage house had opened. He’d jumped behind a hedge and crouched down, watching.
Neil Prescott had stepped out onto the second-floor deck, and the annoying, know-it-all innkeeper had stepped out after him.
“What am I seeing?” Dave had said to himself under his breath. He’d been so excited, thinking Wait until Tiffinie hears about this! Better yet, wait until everyone in Port Elspeth hears about it!
“Good night,” the innkeeper had said to Neil, clutching his arms, looking into his eyes. She actually looked kind of pretty when she wasn’t being a bitch, Dave had decided.
“Good night,” Neil had said, leaning down to kiss her. They’d kissed for such a long time that Dave’s knees had begun to ache. He’d stayed frozen behind the hedge. It wasn’t as if he could have popped up and shown himself after having ducked down there in the first place.
Finally, they’d had their real one-last kiss, and Neil had gone down the steps and around the other side of the building and the innkeeper had gone back inside her apartment. The light by her door had switched off a few seconds later.
“That dirty dog,” Dave had whispered about Neil, impressed, even if he thought Klarinda seemed like way more work than she was worth.
He’d stood up and twisted a bit to realign his achy back, and when he’d done so, along with all the cracking of his back, he’d heard what he thought was a sheep bleating in the distance. He’d turned his head and listened.
“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.” A mournful cry had come from the patch of pine trees up beyond the outbuildings.
Torn between being scared and concerned, he’d stood there, frozen in place, debating what to do. A good sixty percent of his instincts had been telling him to go inside, but twenty percent had been worried there was an animal trapped and hurting—he’d always had a tiny weak spot for animals—and twenty percent of him had been just plain curious. He’d started walking in the direction of the cries.
And then he’d realized that it wasn’t an animal who was trapped out there; it was the old man he’d seen in the dining room.
“What are you doing out here all alone?” he’d asked him. “Did you get lost?”
He’d been concerned. Genuinely concerned for the old man. But then he’d seen the old man’s gun and he’d become concerned for himself instead.
“Could you quit waving that around?” he’d asked him.
The old man had offered some kind of reply and the only thing Dave had heard was his thick Boston accent.
“You know, your voice sounds awfully familiar,” he’d said, reaching out and grabbing the old man’s sleeve. “You’re the lobster guy, aren’t you? I recognize your voice from the phone. What are you doing here?”
“I’ll shoot you,” he’d been warned.
“Consider yourself and your shady little business practices banned from Port Elspeth. We don’t want anything to do with you there. I can’t believe you were stupid enough to try to get me involved with your schemes.”
The old man had waved the gun in his face, so Dave had grabbed it out of his hand and hit him across the lip with it. That was all. Just one blow.
It had never occurred to him that that could kill a person.
He lifted his head from the table in the interrogation room.
“Are you ready to say what happened?” asked Sheriff Carter.
Dave shook his head. “I’m done talking. Like I already said, I’d like to call a lawyer,” he said.
“Fair enough,” the sheriff said, standing up from his chair and taking his time gathering the bottles and cups and paperwork that were spread across the table. “I meant it, you know,” he said, casually, like an afterthought. “About people making mistakes. It happens.”
“It was just a split lip,” Dave said. “I didn’t mean to do anything worse than that. Honestly, he was on his way out. He was out there wandering. If I had never gone out there, he still would have been found the next morning. I’m not kidding. That guy was on his last leg. This isn’t fair.”
The sheriff sat back down, waiting.
“The sad thing is,” said Dave, “I went out there trying to save him.”
“You’re right. About what you said, I mean,” said the sheriff.
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes, it’s just not fair.” The sheriff stood back up and told Dave, since he didn’t seem to understand, “We’re done here.”
Chapter 51
Three weeks later:
Christmas Eve
Tuesday, December 24, 2019
“Do you have everything under control out there?” Klarinda asked Myrtle, as she stretched out on the window seat of a beautiful old inn in Mystic, Connecticut. It felt so grand to be a guest instead of a host for a change.
“Yes! Relax. Enjoy New England. Have you seen the ocean yet?”
“Yes,” Klarinda said.
“Is it as pretty as I remember?” asked Myrtle.
“It was kind of gray and choppy. Neil says I’ll like it much better in the summertime.”
“You are coming back to Windy Pines, right?” Myrtle laughed nervously.
“Of course! Neil’s really excited about Mistletoe Manor. He wants to spend lots of time there. He has all kinds of ideas. I might just let him run with it.”
“Did you meet his daughter?”
“Yes. She’s very nice. Neil’s taking her and her boyfriend to the train station right now. They’re going to spend Christmas with his family.”
“Great,” said Myrtle. “And… dare I ask?”
“About his wife? He served her with divorce papers two days before Thanksgiving. Even though he thought we were over and that he was going to jail.”
“Well!” said Myrtle. “What a switch from Thanksgiving to Christmas.”
“No kidding,” said Klarinda.
“What do you think he’s going to get you?” asked Myrtle.
“For a Christmas gift? He’s all the gift I need. Well, him and staying at this nice bed and breakfast.”
“You are head over heels, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Klarinda laughed.
“I’m happy for you,” said Myrtle.
“Thank you,” said Klarinda. “I’m going to miss spending the holidays with you and Pierre. Keep an eye on each other this week, okay?”
“We will. You take care.”
“I will.”
As they hung up, Neil came back in the room. He looked like he’d been crying.
“Was it tough saying goodbye to your daughter?” Klarinda asked him, grabbing his hand and pulling him close to her.
“Yes,” he said, burying his face in her neck. When he pulled away from her, he said, “I’m happy for her, though. I’m glad she’s got a good guy.”
“It meant a lot to me that you introduced us. She’s fun. I like her.”
“She likes you too.” He was holding his car keys in his hand. “So, are you ready for a drive?” he asked her.
“Where to?”
“Just a little piece of oceanfront property I bought. I thought we could plan out where you want the kitchen, where you want the living room. All of that.”
“Ahh! So, you see me staying here with you in Connecticut,” she laughed.
“Only when we’re not in Windy Pines.”
“We’re going to split our time between both places?”
“It sounds like a good plan to me?” he said, smiling hesitantly.
“We might need some help running Mistletoe Manor if we’re not there all the time,” she said.
“I already told you that!”
“Sure, Neil Prescott, take me to Port Elspeth,” she said. “That is
, if you think I’ll fit in there?”
“You absolutely won’t,” he said. “And that is one of the many, many reasons that I love you, Klarinda Snow.”
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A note about the author
Holly Tierney-Bedord lives in Madison, Wisconsin. She’s the author of over twenty books in a variety of genres, including The Woman America Loves a Latte, The Port Elspeth Jewelry Making Club, Surviving Valencia, and Kindle Unlimited All-Star winner Sweet Hollow Women.
For more information or to subscribe to Holly’s newsletter, visit www.hollytierneybedord.com.