by Dixie Davis
Chip stepped forward. “Hi,” he said. “Chip Branson.” And that was all he said. His voice, and even his stance, somehow seemed tentative.
Was this the same police chief she’d fought with for so many years? Lori was hard pressed not to marvel aloud at his transformation.
“Are — did you have a baby with Debbie Watson in 1975?” Shawn ventured.
Lori looked back and forth between Shawn and Chip, faster and faster. Wait, wasn’t he here to arrest him?
“Yes,” Chip finally said. “And we placed him for adoption.”
Somewhere inside, Lori had known that Mitch and Chip were the only two reasonable options for Shawn’s father. But to see Chip admit this in front of the man who was his son — who’d killed the love of Chip’s life — she was stunned, and that was all she could say.
Then she noticed the tears glistening in Chip’s and Shawn’s eyes. After all of Shawn’s searching, he’d found both his biological parents.
There was the inconvenient detail that he’d killed one of them and the other was going to have to arrest him for it any minute now. . . .
“What happened when you met Debbie?” Chip asked, his voice near to breaking.
“She wouldn’t tell me who you were. Said she couldn’t spring this on you.” Shawn glanced at Mitch. “Sorry.”
“It’s a little more complicated than I let on,” Mitch admitted. “We’ll explain it all later.” “But when you met Debbie . . . ?” Chip asked again.
“I was just . . . frustrated and angry. I’d searched so long and finally tracked her down here, and now she was the only thing standing between me and knowing my father, and I just gave her one push — one push — and she fell over the guardrail.”
Chip nodded. “Shawn, I’m so sorry.”
Shawn wiped away tears. “It’s been awful.”
Lori managed not to scoff. Certainly the last few days had been terrible for him, but he should have tried living through them in the shoes of anyone else in the room.
“I’m sure. But I’m also sorry because I’m the chief of police.”
Shawn froze. “You can’t — that’s entrapment. You have to have read me my rights first.”
Chip raised a doubtful eyebrow. “You’re not a criminal lawyer, are you.” His tone made it clear it wasn’t a question.
Lori didn’t know the intricacies of the law, but she hoped Chip did. Chip reached behind him and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “The good news is that you’ve still got all your grandparents here in town, and I’m sure we’ll all come to visit you.”
Shawn hung his head and allowed Chip to handcuff him. He quickly marched him out of the room and out of the inn.
She’d done it. She’d found the man who’d killed Debbie.
And, in turn, opened a veritable case of worms.
Lori stood a few feet from Mitch, still not quite daring to look at him. “Did you call him?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you already know about their baby?”
Mitch hesitated, and Lori looked up. “They were pretty good at hiding it at the time. I found his birth certificate. A couple weeks before she left.”
She cringed. That didn’t sound like it had gone well, then. “Thank you for your help. And for calling Chip. I don’t think he would have answered if it’d been me calling.”
Mitch chuckled. “No, it didn’t sound like he was very happy to hear from me, either, though.”
“So. Debbie and Chip had a baby.” The implications seemed to spin wider and wider the longer she sat with this knowledge. “How will Ray and Katie take this?”
“No matter who killed her, it was going to be hard. But I imagine they might be glad to know Shawn is around. Maybe. Or maybe they’ll hate him forever and never speak to him again.”
Lori winced. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there like I should have been.”
“What — oh, I wasn’t trying to say anything. I understand.” Mitch stepped closer. “I can go now, if you want.”
“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted. “I wasn’t even sure whether I believed you were innocent. I mean, I did, but . . . I doubted.”
“Sometimes, I did too. Or I at least thought I deserved to be there for this.”
Lori met his eyes, still full of pain. “You didn’t kill her. She chose to leave.”
“I could have done more.”
“Couldn’t we all? I could have done more for you too.”
Mitch huffed out half a laugh and looked away. “I didn’t expect that of you. Not after what I did to you. I wanted — I never wanted it to come to this. That whole first year, I thought everything was perfect. This was the perfect answer. I wanted more because I loved you — I still love you — but I knew we couldn’t.”
Lori hugged herself. Somehow, this confession, though it might not quite cover illegal activity, hurt much worse than any other she’d elicited.
“And then when you changed your hair and clothes, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t tell myself I wasn’t in love with you. I wanted more, but I knew we couldn’t.”
That painful time was still seared into her memory too, when Mitch rejected her, trying to say he just wanted them to be friends and hang out. She’d had too much self-respect to settle for that, so she’d sent him on his way.
And then a couple months later, he’d come crawling back, ready for a relationship. “What changed your mind?”
“I talked to a lawyer. We came up with a plan: we’d try to serve her with divorce papers, and if we couldn’t find her, we’d have her officially declared dead. I should have waited until all that was finalized, but . . . I loved you too much.” He turned away, rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry.”
“For loving me?”
“For lying to you. I just . . . didn’t know what to say. I still don’t.”
Lori drew in a deep breath and sighed it out. “I don’t either. I’m still angry.”
“I understand.” After a second, Mitch turned and started for the door.
“But I still love you too,” Lori admitted.
Mitch stopped and turned back to her. “Can — do you think we could start over?”
“Start over?” Hadn’t they already done that, when he’d freaked out after her makeover last year? “Again?”
He shook his head, turning away again. “Sorry, stupid idea.”
“No, no, it’s not stupid. I mean, we can give it a try.” Lori offered a hand. “Hi, I’m Lori.”
“Mitch.” He shook her hand. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Upkeep is a nightmare. We practically had a handyman on staff for a while.”
He laughed. Okay, it seemed teasing wasn’t off-limits. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Lori asked.
Mitch visibly braced himself but nodded.
“You’re not married, are you?”
He relaxed, but only a hair. “No, due to some recent developments, I’m not.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“You know what? I’m not. I’d lived trapped by the past for a long time and let it rule my life. Made a bunch of choices I regret because of it. I wish it hadn’t ended the way it did, but I’m glad I can close that chapter of my life. I’m really looking forward to the next one.”
Lori met his eyes and allowed herself a smile. “You know what? So am I.”
Lori Marie Barnes Keyes
and
Mitchell Herbert Griffin
request the honor of your presence
(not presents!)
at their wedding.
Saturday, December First
Mayweather House
301 Front Street
Dusky Cove, North Carolina
Thank you so much for reading Inn Danger! I’m excited to share this cozy mystery with you. I have lots more planned for the rest of Dusky Cove, so I hope you can join me for all their adventures!
Do you know the best w
ay to thank an author when you enjoy a book? We do love getting notes from happy readers, but even more helpful is leaving a review online on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews also help writers get advertising spots and spread the word about a book — and they can even help people decide to buy it!
Until my next book comes out, I’d like to invite you to join my mailing group! I’ve got lots of fun bonuses there, from recipes from this book to a tourist’s guide to Dusky Cove. Join me here: http://dixieddavisauthor.com/newsletter/
Thanks again for reading, and I hope to see you in Dusky Cove again soon!
Love,
Coming soon from Dixie Davis
Out now in the Dusky Cove B&B Cozy Mystery Series!
Inn Over Her Head
Inn Trouble
Inn Vain
Inn Dire Straits
Inn Danger
Once again, this book was only possible with help from many sources. Topping the list, of course, would be my supportive family, and especially my husband and my children.
As always, many thanks go to my beta readers, Diana and Stacey, whose feedback always helps me make my books better. A special round of thanks goes to my proofreader, Sally Johnson, who is an excellent editor and an even better friend.
Once again, I’m grateful to God for giving me this gift, a passion for writing, and reminding me not to hide it under a bushel.
And I’m grateful to you, reader, for joining me again in Dusky Cove!
Dixie Davis was born and raised in North Carolina. (Unfortunately, not in Dusky Cove — it’s a fictional town.)
Her mom got her hooked on cozy mysteries from a young age. Lillian Jackson Braun’s classic Cat Who... series are some of her favorites.
Dixie has been writing since she was a teenager. She makes her home with her husband and children in the Rocky Mountains now, so writing about Dusky Cove is one of her favorite ways to connect with a little taste of home.
Dixie loves to hear from readers! You can reach her at [email protected].
