I parked a few blocks away on Pickford Way. I could see Dash's tall silhouette waving from the lawn in front of the lighthouse. I zipped up my coat and grabbed the thermos of cocoa I'd made for the moon watching.
We walked toward each other. "I came armed with hot cocoa. Thought you might need some after long hours on a boat."
Dash took hold of the thermos. "You read my mind."
We walked toward the lighthouse. The moon looked like a massive gold button jammed in the middle of a blue velvet coat. "We hardly need to climb all those stairs." I tucked my hands in my pockets. "It's so big and bright, you could see it from anywhere."
"Are you saying you don't want to go in the lighthouse?"
"Are you kidding? I'm dying to see the view from up there."
The light keeper's house was dark. Marty Tate was most likely asleep for the night.
Dash yanked open the lock. "Yep, still the same lock." He pulled out a remarkably strong penlight and opened the door. The beam lit up the base of the tower.
"That is a penlight to beat all penlights," I noted as we slipped inside.
"Thanks. It comes in handy when I'm in tight, dark engine compartments." We walked up the squat steps to the long coil of stairs. Dash aimed the light straight up. Shadows crisscrossed the plaster walls. "Are you ready?"
"I sure am."
I followed closely behind him as we hiked up the seemingly endless metal steps. The walls narrowed as we climbed. "I wonder how often Marty has climbed these stairs," I said between breaths.
"Thousands of time, I imagine. Maybe that's why he's reached such a ripe old age."
"You might be right about that.” I took another breath. "I think I'd just prefer to die younger than have to face this climb every day."
Dash's laugh echoed off the narrowing walls. "I think I'm with you on that."
We got to the top, but before I could enjoy the view, I had to fill my body and brain with the oxygen I'd depleted on the climb. Dash recuperated about two seconds after we reached the top, which was, to say the least, annoying.
"I don't consider myself to be unfit," I finally managed to speak, "but I think I need to start riding my bicycle more. I just climbed those stairs like I was dragging a fifty pound bag of bricks behind me."
"Maybe you're just tired after a long day of work." Dash scooted around the massive lantern to the front window and sat on the metal railing bordering the light.
I joined him. "Yes," I said too enthusiastically. "That's it. It was a long day, lots of flower bouquets and customers. I'm going with that explanation instead of the one in my head saying 'looks like you're getting closer to passing that threshold into your thirties'."
Dash opened the thermos and handed me the inside cup. He poured me some cocoa and filled the top cup for himself before replacing the cap. "Hmm, smells good." He lifted the cocoa. "Here's to a full moon, a lighthouse, cocoa and a sweet neighbor to share it with."
"Cheers." We gently tapped cups and sipped the cocoa. My gaze circled the panoramic view the wall of windows provided of the harbor and beach. "The world looks so vast from up here."
"I guess that's because it is vast."
"Good point. This is amazing though. Thank you for suggesting it. Did you finish the boat?"
"Finally. It needs an entirely new engine, but the owner doesn't want to fork over the money. Instead, I'm stuck putting little bandage fixes on it every few months. I told him with the amount of times he's had me come out to do repairs, he could have bought himself a whole new boat by now."
"His loss but your gain." I covered my mouth. "Jeez, I sound like a cutthroat business woman."
He laughed. "Not to me. You just sound smart. Which you are. Among other things."
My cheeks warmed, but I was going to blame it on the steam from the cocoa.
"So you had a busy day, eh?" He picked up the thermos and topped off our cups.
"Flower business is good. Especially with spring in the air." I stood up to get a better view of the wavy black water below. White crescents curled intermittently up and over in rhythm with the wind whistling through the lighthouse.
"I saw the tulip display in your front window when I went in to double check on our moon watch time."
I turned around. "You did? That must have been after I left. I'm working on a case with—"
"Detective Briggs," he added dryly.
"You know what's hard?" I said. "Being friends with both of you but having to pretend I'm not. I enjoy doing investigations with James, and I'm not going to apologize for it."
"You don't need to apologize. And I'm sorry we've made it difficult for you."
Dash stood up. Suddenly, the narrow space between the lantern and the windows felt extremely tight. I'd never been able to clarify my feelings for Dash. I truly enjoyed being with him and he was always charming. But I still thought of him only as a friend. I didn't think our relationship would ever go past that, and I was sure he felt the same way. Or at least I was until he stepped closer.
"Lacey, you know how fond I am of you." He took hold of my hand. It was the last thing I'd expected. Yet, I quickly started asking myself if I'd misled him by accepting his offer to watch the moon from the lighthouse. As his face lowered, a million thoughts went through my head, including one that seemed to say, maybe this was what you wanted, Lacey. Maybe you've been waiting for this kiss.
I had been waiting for a kiss . . . but not from Dash. At least not at that moment.
I turned my face and moved back a step. His usual confidence dissipated. It was the first time I'd ever seen Dash frown.
He pulled his gaze away. "I think we've both had a long day. Maybe we've seen enough moon."
"Dash," I started but had no idea where to go from there. "Yes, maybe you're right. It was nice though," I said to him as he turned away. "I think I'm just not quite sure about anything, but I don't want to lose your friendship."
He stared down at the water for a moment. "I understand. Are you ready for the long hike down?"
"Yes."
Without another word, he led me down the stairs. His dejected footsteps sounded extra loud in the hollow tower. This night had gone terribly awry, and I wasn't sure how to feel about it or how to fix it.
I was relieved when we reached the bottom. The fresh air revived me as Dash held the door open. He replaced the useless lock and walked me to my car. As I turned to once again apologize, he waved good night and walked away.
I would find a way to talk to him and explain my feelings once I knew what they were. I climbed into the driver's seat. "My thermos." I got back out of the car. The daunting thought of walking back up the endless flight of stairs nearly made me turn back. But it was a thermos my mom had bought me at Christmas, a vintage one she'd found in a second hand store. She had been excited to give it to me. She said it reminded her of the times she made chicken soup to fill my lunch thermos. I'd had the same wave of nostalgia when I opened it. I couldn't lose it.
I headed across the lawn. Dash had disappeared back to the marina where he'd parked. A few clouds had drifted in, landing directly over the moon and casting a shadow over the coastline. I stopped just a few feet from the lighthouse and stared up at it. I loved the lighthouse and the romance and adventure it brought to our coastal town, but tonight it reminded me of some ogre's tower where a distressed damsel might be imprisoned. Tonight, after the unpleasant incident with Dash and with the unexpected cloak of clouds, it looked daunting, almost menacing with its pointed black hat and small rectangular window eyes.
A shiver rolled through me and a creeping sensation raced up my neck. I reached back to rub it away and tried one last time to talk myself out of retrieving the thermos. But the memory of my mom's beaming face as she handed it to me coaxed me forward. I pulled out my keys and my own penlight, which was, unfortunately, a fifth as powerful as Dash's. But at least it would keep me from having to climb in total darkness. That would have been out of the question.
I reached the door
and tugged on the broken lock. It didn't budge. I wrapped my entire hand around it and geared up to give it a good yank when an arm went around my neck.
Chapter 34
The arm bundled in a winter coat tightened around me. I flailed my arms back trying to smack my assailant, but I couldn't make contact. They yanked me hard, and I fell off my feet. The glint of a blade flashed by me. I screamed as loud as I could and clawed at the arm around me. My fingernails dragged across skin but my attacker didn't release me. In the distance and in my haze of terror, I heard someone call my name. I screamed again hoping I'd gotten someone's attention.
My assailant released me, but before I could regain my balance, the person shoved me hard. I fell forward. My arms shot out to stop me from slamming face first into the wall of the lighthouse. Footsteps thundered toward me, and a strong hand wrapped around my arm.
I screamed again and swung around with my clenched fist.
"Lacey, Lacey, it's me." Just hearing his voice made my body relax, but my heart was still pumping at full throttle.
Briggs' worried face came into focus. "James," I said on a release of breath before I pushed my face against his chest. His arms circled me.
"I don't see anyone." Dash's voice came from somewhere behind me.
I reluctantly lifted my face and left the protective arms around me. Both men looked gray with worry. It was hard to tell whose chest was heaving more from the race across the lawn. They'd both come from different starting places, but it seemed they managed to reach me at the same time.
The moment of terror had knocked me senseless for a moment, but as my head cleared, it dawned on me that they were both standing in the same place, just ten feet apart. Their few seconds of team spirit had evaporated, and the strained heat of tension seemed to fill the air around us.
"Did you at least get a look at them?" Briggs asked in a harsh tone.
"You're the cop, maybe you should have run after them. I'm not trained for pursuit," Dash answered snidely. "You were too interested in getting Lacey in your arms."
"Dash," I said sharply. I turned to Briggs. "James," I said with equal vigor. "Thank you both. I'm not going to complain about your tactics at all. I'm all right, but I think if you two hadn't shown up, I might very well be facedown on those rocks right now."
That statement caused Briggs to swallow hard. His breathing had caught up, but his face was still the color of ash.
"Can't understand why you didn't even get a glimpse," Briggs said under his breath.
Dash stepped closer. "Maybe they were wearing all black," he sneered between clenched teeth. "Again, maybe if you had helped with the chase . . ."
Both men had made themselves taller and bigger with chests out and fists clenched. I was still shaking from my attack, and their stallion fight was not helping. My stomach churned and I felt close to throwing up.
"Stop, both of you. This might have been a dream back in high school, having two guys face each other like roosters ready to draw blood, but it's not a dream of mine now. And if I didn't know there was some hidden reason behind this—" I waved my hand between them. "This cloud of testosterone, then I might be slightly flattered, but mad, nonetheless. So please stop." I'd kept my cool until the last words. A sob fell from my lips. I hugged myself to stop the shaking.
Properly chastised, they both relaxed their stances.
"Thank you both for saving me, but I'm not going to stand here and watch you two fight." I hadn't expected my legs to be wet noodles, and my first few steps faltered. Briggs' fast reflexes brought him to my side. He grabbed my arm to steady me and lifted my wrist to get a closer look at my hand.
"You're bleeding, Lacey."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Dash walk back to the marina, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and his shoulders stiff with anger.
My legs solidified beneath me. I removed my arm from Briggs' grasp. "It's not my blood. It’s from the crazy person who attacked me. I got in a good scratch."
"You did? That's excellent."
I shrugged weakly. "A little technique I picked up from my cat."
"No, I mean, that's excellent. It means we can collect DNA from the perpetrator. And something tells me, if we find the person who attacked you, we'll find Letty's killer too."
"Yes, I knew that." I'd been so busy recuperating from the harrowing experience, I'd missed the fact that I'd collected some irrefutable evidence right under my fingernails. I was going to have to give Nevermore an extra cat treat when I got home. And home sounded exceptionally good right then.
"Let me take you back to the station. I can swab the blood and tissue samples under your nails. Then we can get you cleaned up. Keep that hand still and try not to touch anything with it."
I looked around for his car. "How did you get here? In fact, how on earth did you know I was in trouble?"
He walked me to my car. "I'd taken the puppy out for a walk, and I saw your car parked by the town square. It worried me, so I put the dog back in the office."
"Alone?" I asked.
"Yes, hopefully the damage will be minimal." I handed him my keys, and he opened the passenger door for me. He got in and started the car. "I heard you scream and raced toward the lighthouse. Dash came down off the marina. He must have been working. Why were you out at the lighthouse so late?"
It was the question I was hoping he wouldn't ask. Which was probably silly of me because he was a detective. I was constantly dancing lightly around the truth when it came to Dash and Briggs, but I decided I was done with that performance.
"Dash asked me to climb the lighthouse and moon watch with him tonight. We'd finished and I was heading home when I remembered I left my—Oh no."
He looked over at me. "What?"
"It's just that I left my thermos of cocoa up in the lighthouse. It was a special gift from my mom. That's why I went back to the lighthouse."
"I'll get it for you tomorrow. So you had cocoa and a moon watching date with Dash?" It seemed he had cooled his heels some after the moments of angry tension with his nemesis.
"I don't remember using the word 'date' at all, but you're entitled to interpret it however you want." That silenced him on the matter. I was relieved.
We pulled up to the station.
"Anything else of importance you can remember? I know it's hard if they grabbed you from behind and you never got a glimpse of them, but anything at all. An odor, maybe?"
I closed my eyes for a second to relive the horrifying few minutes. Then I opened them and looked over at Briggs. "Licorice. I smelled licorice on their breath."
Chapter 35
It was late and the long day and now even longer, crazier night made my head feel as if it was ten pounds heavier than normal. Briggs was an expert at collecting evidence, and he quickly swabbed beneath my fingernails to collect what he needed for DNA samples. He had a special, disinfecting soap in the kit made specifically for the purpose of washing up after accidental contamination with someone else's blood.
His gentle hold of my wrist and intense scrutiny of my hand and fingers, to make sure I had no open wounds of my own, took some of the heaviness from my head and placed it solidly in my heart. There was no way I could avoid thinking about how relieved I'd felt when I was safely in his arms tonight. For a brief moment, in his embrace, it seemed I was right where I belonged.
Color had returned to his face. The nausea in my stomach had cooled to mild upset.
"What have you been up to this evening? This is late, even for you," I noted.
"I had paperwork to finish up. I did have a visit earlier from Rhonda Diggle over on Culpepper Road."
"Rhonda Diggle? That's Fiona's sister. Fiona was the sweet, little lady who was selling the attic treasures, including the now infamous mountain lupine painting."
"Right." He led me out of the evidence room. "Would you like a soda or water?"
"A water, please." The puppy heard us in the hallway. He bounded behind us into the small, rather uninviting break r
oom at the back of the station. Briggs just happened to have a treat for him in his pocket. He gave it to the dog along with a hearty rub before pulling two waters from the mini-fridge.
We sat at the break table, and the dog curled up beneath it.
The water tasted good. "Hmm, I guess being in mortal danger zaps you into dehydration."
Briggs shook his head. "I'm sorry that happened to you tonight, Lacey."
"You weren't responsible for the attack, James."
"Yes, yes I was. Port Danby is under my jurisdiction. And when I heard you scream . . ." His words trailed off. I was glad. I was still too much of an emotional eggshell to hear more. I reached over and squeezed his hand briefly, then did something I was expert at. I changed the subject.
"Why did Rhonda come to the station?"
"She was very upset with her sister. It seems Fiona sold all those family treasures without Rhonda's permission. And one item in particular—"
I sat forward and slapped the table. "So the painting was valuable after all?"
Briggs drew out the suspense with a long drink of water. It was hard not to notice how nicely his Adam's apple moved above the collar of his shirt as he drank. He put the bottle down with a satisfied sigh. "It wasn't the painting that had Rhonda in a fit. It was an antique doll."
"Oh." I sat back with disappointment but then sat forward again. "A doll? The same doll whose head I accidentally popped off? Jeez, I hope I didn't hurt the value."
"You didn't," Briggs said confidently. "Because the doll is not valuable."
"So it has sentimental value."
Briggs put his arms on the table. "No but it has a practical purpose. It seems Rhonda and Fiona's grandmother hid a very pricey necklace inside the doll for safekeeping. It was made by one of the big jewelers, Van cliff or something like that."
"There's an antique Van Cleef and Arpels necklace in that doll? My fingers were that close to a Van Cleef and Arpels? No wonder Rhonda was upset."
"So you've heard of it?"
Tulips and Trouble Page 15
