And didn’t move.
She reached out, touched his bare arm. “Boone?”
He took a breath. Exhaled. Still didn’t look at her. “There was a case I was working. Sort of a side-lined case because it seemed like nonsense to everyone. So it was put on the back burner.” He rubbed his thumb on the steering wheel. “An elderly woman named Margaret Vincent had contacted the department repeatedly. She had dementia, but no family to speak of. She lived alone in a small cottage not far from the lake.”
Boone reached behind her seat and grabbed his water bottle. Took a drink. “She was convinced someone was coming into her house at all different times of the day and taking her things. Making her think she was crazy.”
“Except—she was, in that she had dementia,” Vivien offered.
“Right. So, we humored her. I’d swing by, look around. Take her report. This went on for weeks until—” He stopped, unable to continue.
Vivien waited, wishing she knew how to help.
Boone turned. Looked at her. A little wrecked and a lot raw.
“She didn’t call. Went silent. No calls to the station. I thought maybe her dementia had shifted gears finally. I stopped by to check on her and take her some strawberry jam my mom had made and…she didn’t answer the door.”
Vivien’s gut twisted. Oh no.
“She wasn’t outside. I tried the back door. It was unlocked.” He swallowed. Cleared his throat. “I found her.” He looked away. “She’d been beaten. Didn’t have a pulse.”
Vivien sucked in a breath.
“I started CPR, but it was too late.”
“Anyone would need some time away after that. No wonder you came here.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t just her—or the way I failed her. As I investigated the case, I collected substantial evidence against a man named Robert Smith. And when I arrived to take him into custody, he ran. And then he fought me. And I held back, Viv—I did. I didn’t use any more force than I was authorized to use.”
“I believe you.” She squeezed his hand, blinked back the tears in her eyes.
“I wanted to do more. A lot more—but I’m not that kind of cop. I’m not that kind of man. I trust the system to take care of it. A fair trial. A fair sentence.” He took another drink of water. “But he filed police brutality charges against me.” Boone lifted his shoulder. “And, here I am.”
Here he was. In her town. In her life. Drawn into trouble, again.
“This case isn’t like that one.”
He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. “I can’t take that chance.”
Right. Because he was the guy who followed through. Didn’t give up. Never let go.
And, even if the flowers had spooked her, the last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s go talk to Kyle.”
Boone hadn’t planned to claim he was Vivien’s boyfriend when Caleb and Issy had shown up. Nope. He’d worked really hard to forget kissing her on the beach when she’d come to apologize.
He’d tried to push her right back into the friend territory—exactly where his brain and logic said she belonged. Unfortunately, his heart had disagreed, especially when he let himself remember the way she’d kissed him back.
Friend. Boyfriend. One thing was certain. He was going to make sure Kyle knew this case needed to be a top priority because he wouldn’t stand by while someone put Vivien on edge. And no matter how much she tried to play it off, he’d started picking up on her tells. The way she plastered on a smile and expected everyone to move along and ignore the way she’d changed the subject.
She’d been quiet the entire drive over, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt every time he glanced over.
“Do you see Kyle’s car?”
She let out a long breath. “We really don’t need to do this.”
He waited.
She finally pointed to a white Tahoe in the lot.
“Maybe we can catch him on a break.”
Vivien shifted in her seat. “I already talked to him last night.”
“I know. Humor me.” The sunlight caught the coppery strands of her hair that lifted in the breeze. He resisted the urge to reach out and snag a loose lock.
“Why are you doing this?” She pressed her lips together and he realized the rosy hue was their natural color. He’d whisked her away before she could put her lipstick on. And that made them look utterly kissable.
He cleared his throat. “Because. We need to find out who’s harassing you.”
“It isn’t a big deal.”
“Look, Vivien, I’m not sure if you’re worried and hiding it or actually not worried at all. What I do know is that you’d be right to be concerned and I’m not going to just sweep it aside like that last guy did.”
“But you’re not really my boyfriend, Law and Order. You’re heading back to Kellogg in a few weeks.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to you. Someone is doing this for a reason—someone who knows what happened in New York City.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “Let’s go.”
Vivien lagged behind him a step when they reached the front door. He turned, reached out his hand to her, and waited.
She blinked—not batting her eyes like she did sometimes. But a timid blink that looked kind of sweet on her.
Her soft fingers wrapped around his hand and he led her inside.
The dark-haired waitress looked up from the counter and smiled. “Do you want to grab a seat? I’ll be right with you.”
“We’re actually looking for Kyle Hueston.”
She nodded toward the stage. “Over there.”
“Thanks, Melissa,” Vivien said. She pointed to a man at the side of the stage, near Boone in height, but he guessed him to be a few years younger.
They skirted around the tables to reach him. “Excuse me, Sheriff Hueston? Do you have a minute?”
Kyle looked from Boone to Vivien, then to his bandmates. “Give me a few minutes, okay?”
They nodded and Kyle led the way to a corner table. “More deliveries?” Kyle directed his question to Vivien.
“No. Just—well, Boone wanted to follow up on your investigation.”
Kyle turned to Boone.
He jumped on the unspoken question. “I know you’re off duty, but I wanted to find out if you have any leads.”
Kyle shook his head. “No. Not yet.”
“But you’re working on it?”
The man sat back in his chair. “We took the report. There isn’t a whole lot to go on.”
The waitress arrived and placed coasters on the table before adding a glass of water to each.
“Thanks,” Boone said. She nodded and walked away after the others thanked her.
“So, what suspects do you have so far? Joslyn Vanderburg? Ravil Koz—” He tugged his notepad from his back pocket. “Ravil Kozlovsky?”
Kyle looked from Boone to Vivien. He leaned forward. “Why am I getting the feeling that there’s a lot more to this than what was given in the initial report?”
Vivien sat up and wrapped her arms around herself. She watched the waitress sit new customers across the restaurant, looking anywhere but at Boone.
“Vivien?” Kyle looked at her, his jaw set. “Who are these people? Why didn’t you mention them last night?”
She swallowed and waited as a young couple got up and left their nearby table. “Okay, look—I don’t know what to think. I mean, I sound like an idiot reporting to the police about a flower delivery and I sound like a jealous ex accusing—” She stopped, flushed.
Oh, Vivien. She didn’t want Kyle to know her ex was a lousy, two-timing creep? The facade she maintained crumbled, just a little. And the real Vivien—the one who was beautiful and passionate and, yeah, a little lost and vulnerable—shone through. Boone moved his hand over to hers, letting his fingers settle over the warmth of hers.
“Well, you did say they were black and rotten. Smelled like
a dead animal.” Kyle looked up at Boone, allowing Vivien to move past her embarrassment, and Boone suddenly thought more of him, despite the gross lack of investigating that had taken place in the past twenty-four hours. Sheriff Hueston was a good guy.
Except—Kyle’s words hit Boone. Hard. Dead animal? He rose from his seat. “Wait—what’s this about a dead animal?”
Vivien tugged him back into his seat. “No, there wasn’t a dead animal. They just…smelled. Really bad.”
Kyle looked from Vivien to Boone and shook his head. “No corpse. But the evidence tech did request a respirator.”
Not funny. “Did she tell you the part about this not being the first delivery?”
“No. No, she didn’t.” Kyle took a drink of the water and placed the glass back onto the table before giving Vivien a pointed look. “That would have been important information to share.”
Vivien slid her hand from Boone’s and took a drink. She swallowed. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. The first one didn’t smell. They were just burned roses left on my porch the day of Fish Pic.”
Kyle cut her a look. “We can’t do a proper investigation if you don’t give us all the facts.”
Boone turned toward her. “Is there anyone in Deep Haven who knew about what happened in New York with that guy—Dennis Campbell?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t even tell Ree until last night.”
“What about the lady that showed up at Fish Pic?” Boone asked.
Vivien let out an audible groan.
Kyle raised a brow.
“Sabrina.” Vivien took a drink and stared at her manicured nails. “Sabrina Calhoun. She’s my…half sister. She lives in Minneapolis.”
Kyle blinked, like this was new information to him.
“Well, Joslyn Vanderburg despises me. She even left me a weird message a few days ago.”
“How do you know her?” Kyle pulled out his phone to make notes.
“She was my understudy in the show I was doing. She took over when I left.”
Boone looked at Vivien. “I didn’t know about her leaving you a message. When was that?”
“During the week.” Vivien began playing with the damp napkin. “I tried to call her back to ask her about it, but she didn’t answer. I think she was just having a meltdown or something.”
“What was the message?”
She shifted in her seat. “I find it hard to believe that Joslyn would come all the way to Deep Haven to dump those roses and then ship the package.”
“Maybe,” Kyle said.
“Maybe not,” Boone added. “You didn’t answer the question. What was the message about?”
Vivien closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “She claimed that the same thing had happened to her. That I should be careful.”
“Careful?” Boone pressed.
Vivien rubbed the back of her neck and looked over at Boone, her brow creased. “She said I might be in danger.”
“Oh, geez, Vivie.” Boone’s grip tightened on his pen to the point it might snap in two if he wasn’t careful.
Kyle sat back in his chair.
“She’s just being dramatic,” Vivien added.
Boone wrote it down in his notes. “So, you need to give us every other conceivable connection. Anyone who has anything to gain by this—be it a role, revenge, anything. It seems like your sister and the entire cast could be suspect.”
“Half. She’s my half sister,” Vivien clarified. “Fine.” She began listing off the different cast members, ruling each one out with her logic.
“It wouldn’t be Lola Babcock. She was my roommate and we got along pretty well.”
Boone rubbed his jaw as Kyle sat furiously typing notes into his phone.
Vivien continued. “Not Danielle Berteau. She’ll give you twenty different requirements for her dressing room, but she’s completely harmless.”
Kyle looked up from his phone notes. “You mentioned someone named Dennis.”
“Dennis Campbell. He’s the guy who was stalking her,” Boone answered.
Kyle slapped the table. “A stalker, Viv? And you didn’t think that was important to mention when you gave the report?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
Boone dropped his pen. “Good grief, Vivien, what did you tell him last night?”
“I told him what happened. That’s all Ree demanded that I do.”
Boone opened his mouth. Closed it. Then read over his notes before looking back to Kyle. “So, were you able to trace back anything on the package return address?”
Kyle shook his head. “It was for a commercial mailbox business—no actual box number. When they returned our call this morning, they said they didn’t have any information on who mailed it out. The tracking number linked back to a prepaid card transaction. Dead end.”
“Security cameras?”
“No footage.”
“You guys weren’t waiting to order anything, were you?” The waitress approached from another table.
“No, sorry—not today,” Kyle said.
“Oh, works for me.” She laughed. “We’re a bit shorthanded right now, but let me know if you change your mind.” The waitress left.
Boone zeroed in on Kyle once again. “Did they remember any details about the transaction? If it was a man or woman?”
“No. The person who’d worked that shift couldn’t remember anything.”
“Do you have the prepaid card number?”
“Back at the office. Why?”
“I’d like to follow up on a couple things.”
“No,” Vivien said, looking from Kyle to Boone. “You aren’t supposed to be working or stressing yourself. I didn’t want you involved in this.”
“I’m fine. Let me do this.”
“I’m not—I won’t be the reason you don’t get that promotion. Really.” She set her shoulders back. “It’s not a big deal.”
Kyle raised his brow, turned his glass on the table top, tapping his fingers against the table.
“Look, Boone, I don’t know—I think Vivien is right. Let my department handle this.”
“I can do some legwork for you. I know a detective from New York City from some other cases I’ve worked. Detective Rayburn. He owes me a favor.”
“Hey, Kyle, you about ready to get going?” A guitar player tested a few chords and tuned his instrument.
“Sure. I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Boone. “Have you met Cole Barrett?”
Boone nodded.
“He’s working the afternoon shift. If you leave a message on the non-emergency number, he can follow up and get you the information you want.” He stood up. “But Vivien’s right. This is our case. That being said, I don’t mind you gathering some information, but I did hear through the grapevine you’re putting in for the chief opening in Kellogg. That should be your focus.”
Boone held out a hand to the man. “Thanks for all your help. We’ll let you get back to your rehearsal.”
Kyle shook his hand. “Happy to help.”
In the parking lot, Boone held the car door while Vivien, still silent, climbed inside, then closed it before walking around to the driver’s seat.
He gripped the steering wheel. “You don’t have to pretend everything is okay when it’s not.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, actually, you do. You hadn’t given Kyle any of the information he needed to investigate the case.” He looked over at her. Noticed the way she blinked several times and looked away. “What I want to know is…why?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, buckling her seat belt. “You’re leaving.”
“I’m here now.”
She met his gaze, her eyes narrowed in thought and that adorable crease between her brows. “Yes. You are. Would you like to go to church with me tomorrow?”
And he felt like he was handing her a little piece of his heart when he answered. “Yes. I would.”
Chapter 10
Vivien’s life could almost look normal. She walked into church on Boone’s arm the next morning. Just like she belonged there. Not as eye candy. Not for pretend.
No. For real. Like, maybe someday, she could have a family of her own filling a pew instead of being the add-on to someone else’s family life. An outsider looking in.
Even if that’s what she was.
She swallowed, let the warmth of Boone’s skin against her hand settle her. Anchor her. Because as much as she loved acting, sometimes she just wanted to be herself. And maybe she’d forgotten how to be her true self until Boone came along.
How good it felt. How his eyes had held her with deep concern when they’d sat talking to Kyle. The way he’d covered her hand with his own, offering comfort.
Because in the past week, he’d shifted her entire world.
And, even if they hadn’t turned up any solid leads yet, knowing he took it seriously made her feel like she wasn’t such a fool after all.
I’m here now. When she’d looked across the car at him after sitting with Kyle, the words had settled over her like her favorite blanket.
They claimed a spot in line outside the sanctuary, where the congregation shuffled slowly past the greeters, exchanging short snips of conversation as they took their bulletins.
Boone looked rather fine in his dark-wash jeans and a pale-blue, button-up shirt.
“Are you hanging out with me at rehearsal today? It’s right after church.”
“Sure. My schedule is wide open.”
The bulk of Casper Christiansen took up the doorway ahead of them, his wife Raina next to him and his sleeping infant, Rhett, in his arms. He turned toward them. Raised a brow. “Good morning, Boone. Vivien.”
“Good morning, Casper.” Boone gave a nod and then turned away when greeted by Pastor Dan on the other side.
Vivien reached her hand out and ran her fingertips down Rhett’s cherubic cheek. “Don’t think I can’t see that smirk you’re hiding behind the tufts of baby hair,” she whispered to Casper. She lifted her eyes to his.
“Who, me?” He shrugged, the smile still curving his lips. “I’m not surprised you’re sitting with Boone today. Not at all.”
Then Came You Page 16
