Logan flushed. “It only took a second. I could reach the outboard from the dock.”
“Still smart.”
“Can you get Abby up to the house?” Logan marched Roger ahead of him.
Tessa climbed to unsteady feet. “Yes.” She tried to pick up Abby, but the child resisted.
“I can walk.” Abby ran out of the boathouse.
“That is one tough kid.” Logan propelled Roger toward the house.
“Good thing.” Tessa shivered hard in her soaked uniform and boots.
As they approached the back of the main house, Emma came out the back door. Her hair was wet, as if she’d been in the shower. “What’s going on?”
Tessa explained.
Emma’s face whitened. She wrapped her arms around her daughter. She looked up at Roger. “How could you? You treated us like family. I didn’t think you would ever hurt anyone.” Her eyes searched Roger’s.
He looked away. “I want a lawyer.”
“I can’t believe I was so wrong about you.” Emma carried her child inside.
A few minutes later, Kurt arrived and loaded Roger into the back of his county-issued SUV. “I’ll put him in the holding cell. You get dry clothes and a meal. Take your time. He isn’t going anywhere.” Kurt closed the vehicle door.
Logan loaded Tessa into the passenger seat of her SUV. She didn’t object. She was shivering too hard to drive.
“Your house or mine?” he asked.
“Yours. Seeing me like this would disturb my mother.” Tessa called Cate and asked if she’d stay with her mother overnight. Cate agreed.
Logan drove to his cabin at the entrance of Bishop State Park. Tessa grabbed her backpack from the cargo hold of her SUV, where she always kept emergency supplies, including a change of clothes.
Tessa showered and dressed. When she returned to Logan’s kitchen, he set a box of crackers and two steaming bowls on the table, then sat opposite her.
“Thanks.” Tessa ate the whole bowl of soup without stopping.
“Kurt called with some updates, all good,” Logan said as he pushed his bowl away. “There’s no warrant yet, so no need to rush back to the inn. He sent Emma and Abby to a motel for the night. Bruce will be back on the morning ferry. Marybeth has improved. She’s going to pull through.”
“That’s great news.” Relief filled Tessa. She leaned back in her chair. “Why did Roger attack her?”
“My guess is he was afraid she’d find the hidden environmental survey before he did.”
Logan smiled. “You look exhausted. You should get some sleep. You take the bed. I’ll bunk on the couch.”
“Would you mind sharing the bed, even if all we do is sleep? It’s been a stressful night. It would be nice not to be alone.” She rounded the table and walked into his arms. Finding time to be with him could be impossible, but she needed to focus on herself, just for one night.
He hesitated for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around her. “Sharing the bed would not be a hardship.” Logan leaned forward and kissed her. “Though you should know that what happened tonight will probably trigger a nightmare. I might wake you.”
“OK.” Tessa waited. She sensed he wanted to say more.
“I told you a while ago about the bombing of the vaccination clinic. The building was full of mothers and children. There was one, a little girl.” He looked away, his face tormented. “She died in my arms.”
She took his hand. “Tonight must have been so awful for you, seeing Abby in danger like that.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “I’m calling a psychiatrist this week. I need to deal with this instead of crossing my fingers and hoping it goes away.”
“I’ll always be here for you,” she said. “Through nightmares or anything else.”
He sighed. “I didn’t want to add to your burden. You already deal with a lot of stress. You don’t need my personal drama too.”
The thought that he put his own needs and well-being so far below hers gave her an ache in the center of her chest.
“You could never be a burden,” she said. “You help me. I help you. We help each other. That’s how this relationship thing works.” Tessa tugged him toward the bedroom. “Logan?”
“Yes.” He let her pull him forward.
She’d almost forgotten what desire felt like, but it heated low in her belly and warmed her far better than the shower or soup. “I lied. I don’t just want to sleep.”
He chuckled, a low masculine sound that curled her toes. “I’d wanted to romance you a bit better.”
“I don’t need romance,” she said.
“But you deserve it.” Logan backed her to his bed and cupped her cheek. “You deserve moonlight and roses. You deserve effort.”
“All I want is you. All of you. Not just the happy parts. You can’t separate your life into parts and only give me half.”
He nodded. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll share the negative with you, and you’ll let me romance you.”
She rose onto her toes and linked her hands behind his neck. “I think I can live with that.”
12
Daylight brought a search warrant into Tessa’s life. By noon, she’d searched four outbuildings at the inn with no sign of a murder weapon or other physical evidence to place Roger at Jason’s murder scene.
Emma signed a statement that Roger had been gone from the farm for a couple of hours the afternoon Jason died. Her statement weakened his alibi, but she refused to commit to more specific times, which frustrated Tessa. But Emma’s background check had been clean, and Tessa gave up. The young woman wasn’t a criminal, but she also wasn’t the brightest light on the Christmas tree.
Roger was being held on charges of kidnapping, assault, and anything else Tessa could think of for his actions the previous evening. As she saw it, Jason had been blackmailing Roger with the falsified soil report. But motive wasn’t enough, and neither was a hole in his alibi. Tessa needed hard evidence to charge him with murder.
She trudged across the grass and found Bruce and Cate in the inn’s garage. Bruce lay on the cement, looking up at the fender of Roger’s purple Porsche.
Cate was bagging tools from a workbench. “I’ve found no obvious sign of the murder weapon. But I’m taking all of Roger’s tools that correspond to the approximate size of Jason’s wounds. Even if he thoroughly cleaned the murder weapon, we might get lucky. The lab might find traces of blood we can’t see.”
“I found a scrape on the underside of the fender,” Bruce said. “And the paint matches the color of the sample from the rock at Jason’s house. Once the lab officially confirms the colors are a match, we can place Roger at Jason’s house.”
“But we can’t prove he was there at the time of the murder.” Tessa adjusted her ponytail. “Where’s Logan?”
“Searching the north outbuildings.” Cate pointed.
Tessa went outside. She spotted him walking toward a stone pump house. He saw her and waited for her to catch up.
“No luck so far,” he said.
“Remember, blood evidence might not be visible to the naked eye.”
“Right.” He opened a heavy metal door. The rusty hinges squeaked.
The dirt floor of the pump house measured ten feet square. There were no windows. Tessa turned on her flashlight. A plastic bag lay in the corner.
“This bag is too clean to have been here long.” Logan used gloved hands to carefully open the shiny black plastic. He opened the top wider. “Bingo.”
Inside were clothes and a pair of boots. Crouching next to him, Tessa lifted a pair of jeans from the bag. Dark stains streaked the denim.
“There’s a piece of rebar.” Logan moved aside a stained sweatshirt. Something crusted the end of the metal bar. “I think we’ve found the murder weapon.”
Triumph surged through Tessa. “Roger Duvall is going down for murder.” She straightened. “Let’s get this catalogued.” Something crunched under her boot. She leaned down and spied a small piec
e of metal in the dirt. Her heart stuttered as she recognized it. She lifted it by the broken, tarnished chain. A jagged third of a heart. She wiped the dirt from the back of the pendant and read the inscription. Sisters.
Two Days Later
“Looks like it’s going to rain.” Tessa wrapped garland around the porch railing.
“The forecast said it might snow.” Logan climbed down from his ladder.
“It hardly ever snows here.”
“We get lucky now and then.” Logan studied the house. “What do you think? Should I get more lights?”
“I think you’ve already bought every strand on the island.” Tessa stepped back and admired the decorations they’d spent the entire day putting up.
Logan joined her on the lawn in front of the cottage. The house looked magical. Tiny white lights twinkled from every post and rail. Red and green spotlights brightened trees and shrubs. Red bows nestled in the garland draped around the windows and front door, and nine reindeer made of lighted white wire pulled a sled on the front lawn. Logan had even exchanged a white light on the lead deer’s nose for a red one.
“Do you want to light up the chicken coop?” he asked.
“That would be cute, but with my luck, Killer Hen would electrocute herself.”
“She’d be more likely to shock you somehow.” Logan grinned. “She’s clearly plotting your demise.”
“So true.” Tessa laughed.
“Do you want to put up the tree tonight or tomorrow?” Logan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The freshly cut noble fir leaned on the side of the house, its base submerged in a bucket.
“Tomorrow.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Mom will get antsy if we make any changes at night. In fact, there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to keep the tree up at all, but I want to try.”
Logan gave her shoulders a squeeze. “We’ll try to make this the best Christmas we can.”
“This might be her last Christmas at home.” Tessa’s eyes misted, and her vision blurred. “Really, I should get inside. The witching hours have begun. Want to stay for dinner?”
“Sure. What are we having?”
“Good question. Pizza?”
“Sounds great. I’ll pick it up.”
The front door opened, and Tessa’s mother stepped out onto the porch. She wore jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots. Tessa ducked out from under Logan’s arm and hurried to her mother. Patience ran out the front door, holding Mom’s coat. Distracted by the lights, her mom slid her arms into the sleeves and allowed Patience to settle the coat around her shoulders.
“This is so pretty!” Mom walked down the porch steps and turned to face the house. She clapped her hands together in a prayer position. Her voice sounded girlish, and she nearly squealed, “I love Christmas!”
“It’s snowing!” Patience twirled in a circle and stared up at the sky. Snowflakes drifted down and landed in her hair.
Cate pulled into the driveway and parked. She stepped out of the vehicle carrying a basket.
“I hope those are cinnamon rolls.” Logan folded the ladder and carried it toward his sister.
“What else would I bring?” Cate laughed.
She lifted the cloth napkin draped over the basket. Logan took a roll and ate it as he carried the ladder around the side of the house toward the shed.
“The house looks incredible!” Cate turned to hand the basket to Tessa. “Your mom seems happy.”
“She does.” Warmth filled Tessa as she watched her mother and Patience ooh and aah over every light and bow. Just watching them interact without tension or sadness was a Christmas miracle. Tessa would savor every good moment, but the happiness was bittersweet.
“Do you want to stay for pizza?” Tessa asked Cate.
“No, but thanks,” Cate said. “I’m having dinner with Henry. He’s making steaks. Can we talk about the pendant and Sam’s case tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Tessa watched her sister touch the reindeer’s red nose and laugh. She hadn’t quite processed finding their first real clue in Sam’s case. “I promised Patience we’d decorate the tree tomorrow, but that’s all I have on my calendar.”
“All right, then.” Cate turned away from the house, waving over her shoulder. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Bye!” Tessa called.
“Can we have hot chocolate?” Patience asked.
“Of course!” Tessa said.
It wasn’t just her mother who needed a special holiday. Patience had also earned some TLC. Next year it might be just Tessa and Patience.
Logan came around the side of the house, whistling “Jingle Bells,” and Tessa smiled, her heart warming with a tiny spark of optimism. Maybe she and Patience wouldn’t be alone. Maybe Mom would stabilize, and Tessa’s relationship with Logan would grow. Who knew what the year would bring?
She needed to think positively. Logan made her happy. It was likely this would be a year of lasts, but there could also be some firsts.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
After writing ten Rogue River novellas, we were ready to write about new characters and a new location. A trip to the beautiful San Juan Islands convinced us a Pacific Northwest island would be a fabulous setting for more mystery and murder, and the concept of Widow’s Island was born. We carried over a couple of characters from Rogue River—we weren’t ready to leave it completely behind. Thank you to Montlake and our editor, Anh Schluep, for their enthusiasm about this project. Thank you to Charlotte Herscher for helping us sound like we know what we’re doing. Thank you to our readers who loved our first novella series and constantly begged for more. We hope you enjoy Widow’s Island as much as we do.
Kendra Elliot
Melinda Leigh
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2016 Jared Gruenwald Photography
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon Charts bestselling author Melinda Leigh is a fully recovered banker. A lifelong lover of books, she started writing as a way to preserve her sanity when her youngest child entered first grade. During the next few years, she joined Romance Writers of America, learned a few things about writing a novel, and decided the process was way more fun than analyzing financial statements. Melinda’s debut novel, She Can Run, was nominated for Best First Novel by the International Thriller Writers. She’s also garnered Golden Leaf and Silver Falchion Awards, along with nominations for two RITAs and three Daphne du Maurier Awards. Her works include the She Can series, the Morgan Dane novels, the Scarlett Falls novels, the Midnight novels, and the Rogue River novellas. She holds a second-degree black belt in Kenpo karate, teaches women’s self-defense, and lives in a messy house with her husband, two teenagers, a couple of dogs, and two rescue cats.
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