by Tessa Kelly
I bit my lip, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “I’m just not sure I want to start my career that way.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I want to get published on my own merits, but if I accepted your friend’s offer I’d always feel like maybe the only reason I got it was because I knew someone...who knew someone. I’ll always wonder if your friend really liked my book, or was just doing you a favor.”
“I see.” To my surprise, John laughed. “Trust me, you don’t need to worry about that. Remember, publishing is a business. If Rob got into the habit of acquiring books out of favor to his friends, he’d lose his job. If he’s offering you a contract, rest assured it’s because he sees merit and commercial value in your book.”
His argument was persuasive. I imagined it: my novel out in the world, standing on bookshelves. It made me want to dance and sing. Still, I knew I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I let my breath out slowly.
“Okay. But I have to think about it. I hope you understand.”
He smiled softly, but I thought his eyes held a trace of disappointment. “The decision is yours, after all. Maybe Rob’s offer isn’t right for you. That happens. It wouldn’t be wise to take the leap with your eyes closed. Take some time and think about it.” He straightened away from the wall. “I’ll see you at the wedding then.”
“You’re not upset with me, right?” I asked.
“No. I was excited, hoping to be the bearer of good news, that’s all. Still feeling somewhat guilty over the dressing down I gave you about investigating Timothy’s death. Thought this would help expiate it.”
“The sheriff has ruled Timothy’s death an accident,” I said. “I guess, you and Jennifer were right.”
“Were we?” His blue stare seemed to penetrate straight into my thoughts.
I shrugged and looked away.
“I thought so.” He smirked. “There’s still a few hours left. If anyone can crack this case in such a short time, it’s probably you.”
“Nice to know you have that much faith in me,” I said. “Right now, I’m not sure I’ll ever untangle this mess. Everywhere I turn I get more questions than answers.”
“Well, I’ve been doing my best to keep Jennifer out of your way,” he said. “So if my news about your novel doesn’t redeem me, maybe that will. But I really should go, find my uncle. I have a feeling he’s going to need my help tying that pesky bow tie.”
He started to walk away.
“John,” I called.
He stopped and looked back at me.
“You never really needed to redeem yourself,” I said. “But if you had, this would’ve done the trick. Thanks.”
He smiled his usual conservative smile. “Anytime, Sandie.”
As he headed for the stairs, I wondered if he realized it was the first time he’d called me by my short name, the way my friends did. Not Sandra, or Miss James, as was his usual.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I spun around to face Jennings. He was standing so close our noses almost touched. He reared back, as if I was the one who snuck up behind him and startled him.
“Goodness, that’s twice in one day,” he wheezed. “Young lady, you do have a way about you. I was only trying to be careful and not scare you.”
Job well done.
I took a deep breath, waiting for my heart to stop pounding. “Dr. Jennings, was there something you wanted from me?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, yes.” He glanced around and lowered his voice to a whisper, “I’d like to have another word, if that’s all right. But not out here, not in the hallway.”
“Why not in the hallway?” I asked, matching his whisper.
“It’s...regarding that matter we talked about earlier.” He clasped his hands in front of his chest. Unfolding one finger, he pointed it at the stairwell. “Shall we go down to my room?”
I hesitated, torn. By all measures, Jennings was behaving oddly. Would I be safe alone in the room with him?
Then again, who said solving murders was ever safe? With the clock ticking and the wedding so close, I couldn’t afford not to hear him out.
I nodded. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 18
We descended a flight of stairs. Dr. Jennings opened the door to his room and stood aside to let me in first. A show of politeness, or a calculated tactic to get me to turn my back on him?
I slipped in past him and quickly turned around again, hoping I wasn’t becoming paranoid.
Jennings closed the door and stood looking off to the side, rubbing his fingers slowly over his mouth.
“Dr. Jennings?” I gave the carpet a soft tap with my shoe. With so little time left until the wedding, I couldn’t afford to quietly wait while he made up his mind to speak.
Jennings finally faced me. To my astonishment, he was blushing, his cheeks a deep pink. “It’s such a delicate matter,” he mumbled. “You see, earlier, on the beach, I felt embarrassed to say anything, especially in light of the fact that it seemed to have nothing to do with the accident... After you left, I realized I’d been untruthful and it didn’t sit right. I feel obliged to tell you everything, because, well...lying just isn’t in my nature, you understand.”
I gave a curt nod, striving to keep my patience through this long preamble. Part of me was beginning to wonder if he really had something to tell me and if it had any bearing on the case.
“What were you untruthful about, Dr. Jennings?”
“Well.” He gave a small cough. “When you asked if I’d seen anyone outside that night, I said I didn’t. That wasn’t exactly true.”
I was suddenly on high alert, the taut muscles forcing my back straight enough my first-grade ballet teacher would swell with pride. I kept my voice even, though.
“So, you did see someone out there. Who was it?”
He lowered his voice. “That’s the thing. It was that pretty groundskeeper. Ashley, I think her name is. The one with the blond hair and the rosy cheeks. I saw her coming from the guest bungalows. It was around one-thirty in the morning, I believe.”
“Ashley?” I said, thoroughly dumbfounded. “Are you sure?”
He nodded and sat down on the chair by the door. “You see now why I didn’t want to say anything before? I was embarrassed because it was obvious she’d had a late-night rendezvous with Charles, Jennifer’s son. And for a young lady to put herself into such a compromising situation...” He trailed off and shook his head.
I kept my eyes from rolling with difficulty. “I understand why you felt uneasy about sharing this information, Doctor. But thanks for changing your mind. This is very helpful.”
His eyes flew up to me. “Please, don’t spread this around. I’d feel mortified if word got out I’d spoken about Ashley compromising herself.”
I was dangerously close to the end of my tether with him. “I won’t say anything without absolute need, but that’s all I can promise. You did the right thing, telling me about Ashley.”
He blinked at me, looking unconvinced. Not knowing what else to say, I walked to the door, leaving him sitting there and looking troubled. But not as troubled as I was.
Once again, the new revelation brought with it more questions than answers. The remains of the dinner-for-two in Ashley’s cabin suggested she had a visitor the night of Timothy’s death. Why, then, was she seen coming from the guest bungalows, presumably after being with Carl? Could it be Ashley had had two dates that night? It was possible, except, she didn’t seem the type. Besides, Carl was seeing Leonie...
No, something else had to be going on here. The truth was right in front of me, I could feel it. And yet, it kept eluding me.
I leaned my back against the wall and closed my eyes. In the absence of a solid theory, my thoughts were a jumble of wild conjectures. They made me doubt whether I would ever find any rhyme or reason in this case. But I had to keep digging, keep asking questions. I straightened away from the wall and headed toward the stairs. At least, I knew who I should t
alk to next.
I found Eric Harding on the dock with Dr. Huber. Both turned around at my approach, but Eric quickly looked away again.
Dr. Huber smiled. “Ah, hello there, Sandie! We were just examining the boat’s condition. It doesn’t look too bad, considering all it’s been through lately. Right, Eric?”
The other nodded, running his hand along the smooth side of Hija del Mar. His face was an expressionless mask.
Below the boards of the dock, salty water splashed against the wooden pillars, rocking the boat at the same time. A large gray seagull landed behind Eric and cocked its head at him, weighing its chances of mooching dinner. I was weighing my chances of getting answers.
“Dr. Huber, would it be all right if I had a quick word with Dr. Harding?”
If Huber was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Be my guest. I should go check on Ron. He’s been feeling considerably better after his painting session this morning. I’d had the hotel order art supplies for him yesterday. Painting always brings his nerves into balance.”
Hands in his pockets, he strode toward the lawn. When he was out of earshot, Eric finally turned to face me. His expression was far from friendly.
“So, what is it this time? Come to talk me into a confession?”
“That depends. Do you have something to confess?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he left my question hanging.
“Okay,” I said. “I know there’s at least one thing you’ve been hiding. The truth about your health. You’ve been very sick, and still are, though you’re getting better. A miraculous recovery, some would say.”
His eyes darkened as he stared at me, and his chest rose and fell in rapid successions. The gray seagull figured it had waited long enough. Spreading its wings, it took off into the air with a disgusted screech. Eric’s eyes never left mine.
“How...did you find out?” he asked.
“It wasn’t difficult—my brother is a police detective. Your wife confirmed it, too. What I don’t get is, why all the secrecy? Why did you try and hide it from everyone? It’s not a crime to be sick.”
He smirked. “Miss James, people keep all kinds of secrets. They don’t always have to be of a criminal nature.”
“Hm.” I tilted my head at him. “I do apologize for nosing around in your personal business. I don’t take any pleasure in it, and I do understand your anger. But, please, don’t patronize me.”
He opened his mouth, closed it again and sighed. “All right. You’re asking me why I didn’t want my friends to know I was ill. Isn’t it obvious? How would you like it if everyone around you started treating you as a sick person? An invalid?”
I tried to imagine that scenario. “I guess, I see your point.”
“You guess.” He laughed. “You’re too young, that’s the problem. People your age don’t bother with thoughts about life-threatening illnesses.”
Except those of us whose parents were taken away too soon. There was a painful tightening in my chest as I flashed back to my mom’s hospital room, sitting at her bedside through the long final hours...
I let Eric’s words drop. It wouldn’t do to let him sidetrack me.
“When you left your room on Friday night, was that why you used the staff bathroom, instead of the guest one?” I asked. “So that none of the other guests would know you were feeling sick?”
It was a gamble. I still didn’t know for sure that the bathroom was where Eric had gone that night. His look of shock confirmed it, though. After a moment, he gave a reluctant nod. “I thought I’d be left alone in there. I didn’t think anyone would find out.”
“And were you left alone?”
“Well, yes. Afraid I was feeling sicker than I thought. I tried to clean up after myself, but the groundskeeper still had a job to do the next morning.”
“I’m sure she’d understand if she knew why,” I said. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to know. Thanks for being honest about that.”
I started to leave, then stopped and turned to look at him. “I might be young, but I’m not too young to know when someone’s behavior is off. You’re hiding something. And it’s more than just your medical history.”
Eric didn’t answer. I hadn’t expected he would. As I walked away, I glanced back at him again. He stood in the same spot, running his hand over the side of his sailboat. His posture seemed relaxed, but his eyes were the eyes of a hunted animal.
Chapter 19
I checked my phone as I walked to the hotel. Liam might’ve called by now, or sent a text.
He hadn’t. Then again, I hadn’t either.
My fingers hovered over his number. I could make the first move, tell him I missed him and ask him to forget the whole silly fight.
On the other hand, he was so against my investigating the murder. What would I say if he asked what happened with it? I didn’t want to lie, but telling the truth would probably just lead to another argument.
Sighing, I put the phone back in my pocket. With only two hours left until the wedding, I shouldn’t let myself get distracted anyway, not when there was a mess of questions and riddles left to untangle.
I entered the lobby and was hurrying past the empty reception desk when a familiar voice called my name. I spun around, astonishment knocking all thoughts from my mind.
“Liam?”
He rose from an armchair in the corner, leaving a tall ficus to stand guard over his overnight bag and covered the space between us in three quick strides. He looked as if someone had knocked the breath out of him.
“I just got here. Asked at the front desk, but they said you weren’t in your room. They sent someone to look for you. I’ve been sitting here, hoping you’d walk by.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I threw my arms around his neck, locking my lips with his. When we finally broke apart, he was grinning.
“I came up here to apologize, but it looks like I’m already forgiven. Am I?”
“I don’t know.” I tilted my head sideways and made a thinking face. “Maybe I need to hear that apology first.”
He smiled. “Fair enough. I was going to say it was wrong of me to try and control you. I don’t want to be that guy, you know? Someone who tells you what you can and can’t do. Your talent for solving crimes is one of the things that make you special. I promise I won’t ever ask you not to get involved in solving a crime again.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “You mean that?”
“Yes. But I’m still hoping any murders you solve in the future will just be in your novels. You can’t hold that against me, though. It’s kind of an occupational hazard, worrying about your girlfriend’s safety. Is that okay?” His eyebrows furrowed when I didn’t answer. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?”
I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. “You just called me your girlfriend.”
“Well...isn’t that what you are? We’re in a relationship, right?” He paused, suddenly looking uncertain. “Maybe you don’t want that anymore? Now that I think about it, you never called me back after our fight.”
“Liam, don’t be silly. Of course I want to be your girlfriend.”
Grave, his eyes searched my face. “Why?”
I took a deep breath. “Because I don’t have to prove myself to you. I don’t need to try and impress you, and I don’t feel like I have to be...more than what I am. You’re there for me and you like me for myself.”
“Okay.” His mouth twitched. “So far, I’m coming off like a pet. And you already have Marlowe for that. You gotta give me more of a reason here.”
“Hmm.” I furrowed my eyebrows, pretending to be thinking hard. “Well, you’re also pretty hot. How’s that for a reason?”
His face broke out in a grin. “That’s more like it.” Closing the remaining inches between us, he encircled me in his arms.
I laughed, feeling giddy and dazed. “How can you even be here? What about Alex? Aren’t you supposed to be working at the bar?”
�
��I told Alex he can work the bar himself if he wants,” Liam said. “He’s got to get over his stupid grudge, or start looking for a new bartender. There’s plenty of other places I can work at. But he can’t keep trying to cause problems between us. Anyway, should give him something to think about while I’m gone. I took the overnight bus up here, and then the ferry. The hotel’s arranging for me to stay in a guest bungalow.”
I glanced over at the reception desk. There was now a clerk standing behind it. He gave Liam a beaming smile. “I’m glad to see you found Miss James, sir. Everything’s ready for you at the bungalow, if you’d like to get settled in before the wedding.”
Liam looked at him in surprise. “I thought the wedding was yesterday.”
“They wanted to put it off for a day,” I explained. “On account of the murder.”
“Awesome!” He wiped the grin off his face as my eyebrows shot up my forehead. “I mean, I’m glad I could catch it, that’s all. Though, I didn’t bring anything fancy to wear.”
“I’m sure Geraldine and Henry won’t mind,” I said. “You’ll just have to avoid running into Jennifer.”
“Who?”
I shook my head. “Let’s just say, it’s been a very eventful weekend.”
And it wasn’t over yet. Not while Timothy’s murderer lurked free among us.
“Well, I should take my bags over to the bungalow,” Liam said. “Want to come along?”
“Why don’t you go on without me? I still have to get ready for this afternoon.”
The clerk handed him the key. Liam pocketed it and went to retrieve his bag. With a wave and a wink, he sauntered out, looking tan and handsome, his surfer-dude hair tied at his nape. I couldn’t help watching him out of sight. Then I turned and sprinted for the stairs, taking them up two at a time.
Chapter 20
I hurried to the end of the third-floor hallway and opened the door to the staff bathroom. It was smaller than the guest one. No fancy flowers on the counter, no heart-shaped soaps next to the sink. But the room was just as clean as everywhere else in the hotel. Also, it had something the guest bathroom didn’t: a window that gave onto the ocean with a partial view of the grounds and the bungalows.
