Breakwater Cottage stood on Mermaid Point. A stone breakwater curved around the point and provided a calm spot for the pier. The weathered shingles had withstood countless nor’easters, and the hundred-year-old metal roof was as sound as the day it was put on.
Kevin nudged his boat to the dock. She’d managed to avoid looking at him too hard. Everything about this situation made her uncomfortable, but it was her own fault. That mistake she’d made in calling him when she was panicked couldn’t be undone now. It had been kind of him to meet her in Folly Shoals.
She leaped out of the boat to tie it off before he could help her, then walked up the rocky hillside to the house. A pile of lobster traps, thick with barnacles, were stacked on the southwest side of the yard, and a boat her father had been repairing lay upended beside them.
A boulder formed in her throat as she realized she was watching for her dad to come through the screen door. She would never see his smile again. The pain nearly doubled her over, and she paused to catch her breath.
She would never make him proud of her now, never rub out the stigma of her shame.
Kevin touched her arm, and she looked up at him. His bulk, swathed in the green game-warden uniform, dwarfed her five-foot-two frame. With shoulders as broad as the beam of a dinghy, he turned female heads all too easily. His eyes were filled with concern as he stared down at her. The wind had blown a thick lock of dark-brown hair over his wide forehead, and he stood too close for comfort.
Her arm tingled where his fingers pressed against her skin, and she pulled away hastily. “I’m all right. Everything just crashed in on me again.” She set off for the front door.
Her father never locked the house, and she opened the weathered red door. The familiar scent of pipe tobacco wafted up her nose as she stepped into the foyer. It had been so long since she’d been here, too long. The pale-yellow walls showed a few more chips in the plaster, and she stepped into the living room. The plaid sofa her parents had bought in the seventies still held its spot to the left of the fireplace. Her gaze went to the green leather recliner facing the fireplace. The indentation of her father’s body remained in the cushion, and she resisted the impulse to step over and put her hand on the seat.
Kevin’s cell phone rang and she jumped. She listened to him reply in monosyllables to whoever had called. Was it the coroner? She bit her lip and clasped her hands together. She needed answers to what had happened today. She’d pressed Kevin for information when she first saw him, but he’d been reluctant to say anything more until he heard back from the sheriff.
She should have insisted he take her to where he’d found her father’s body.
He ended the call and pocketed his phone in his dull-green jacket. “That was the sheriff. He says he thinks a swell struck the boat and your father fell and hit his head.”
She eyed his flattened mouth and tense jaw. “What aren’t you telling me, Kevin?”
Indecision flickered in his brown eyes. “I’ve been mulling over why I felt uneasy on the boat. Some things were out of order. The radio was off. Edmund never turned off the radio. I smelled perfume, too, a lady’s perfume. His chart map was on the floor, and he was always so meticulous about his maps and equipment. It somehow felt . . . ransacked, though that’s probably too strong of a word.”
She caught her breath. “You think he struggled with someone? Maybe an attacker hit him over the head? Did you tell the sheriff?”
He shook his head. “Whoa, slow down. It’s more of a gut feeling than any evidence I can point to. What am I going to say to Sheriff Colton? ‘Hey, did you notice how messy everything was?’ ”
“But he’s saying it’s an accident! What if it’s not? And Dad said to find my mother. What if that’s why you smelled a woman’s perfume? He was confused because he was dying, but mentioning my mom must mean something.”
“Maybe.” He looked unconvinced.
She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and turned away from him. If he wouldn’t help her, she’d figure it out herself. “I want to see the boat.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
The sympathy in his voice made her eyes sting, and she fiercely blinked the moisture away. There was no time for tears, not yet. “I’m going to look at it no matter what you say.”
His heavy sigh sounded behind her. “I’ll take you. But the sheriff probably won’t release it until tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at nine.”
She turned back to face him. “Thank you. I have to know what happened.”
“I want to know for sure too. But be prepared, Mallory. It’s not a pretty scene.”
“I know.” She couldn’t think about it now. “I’ll walk you out. Thanks for picking me up in Folly Shoals.”
“Happy to do it. I still consider you a friend, even though . . .” He blinked and turned toward the doorway. “See you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up here, and you can drive your car home in the daylight.”
The opulent interior of Hotel Tourmaline was almost enough to make Julia Carver stand taller in her two-inch pumps. This was the kind of hotel she loved, rich and luxurious. Everywhere she looked, she saw reminders of the tourmaline the hotel had based its name on—from pale-pink walls to tourmaline stones embedded in the marble floors. It took only moments to navigate the spacious halls until she stood in front of a glass door marked Boyce Masters, General Manager. She saw an empty room with several chairs lining the pale-pink walls. Her fingers closed around the polished brass doorknob, and she started to turn it.
A deep voice spoke behind her. “You must be Ms. Carver. I’m Boyce Masters.”
She faced him. His six-foot height towered over her five-foot-two frame. His brown hair was graying at the temples. She glanced at his broad shoulders and upper arms and guessed he worked out daily in the hotel gym.
She held out her hand. “Julia Carver, Mr. Masters. Pleased to meet you.”
His hand was cool and dry as he shook hers. “This way.” He stepped past her and held open the door.
The faint aromas of a clean male aftershave and copier toner lingered in the room. She followed him past another doorway into a spacious room. A huge bank of windows looked out onto the rocky Maine coastline with its thick tree cover.
He indicated the chairs that faced his desk. “Pick a seat.” He pulled out a black leather chair opposite her and settled into it. “What can I do for you?”
“This is your off-season, and I have need of a room for at least three weeks, no more than five. I wondered if we might come to an arrangement about cost.”
He raised a brow. “Three weeks? That would take us to mid-May, so I think we can accommodate you. It wouldn’t be our largest or most luxurious room, but it should be comfortable.”
She squashed the frown that wanted to form on her face. Large and luxurious was what she’d been after. “Fine. How about three hundred a week?”
A line settled between his eyes. “I was thinking more like five hundred.”
She rose and picked up her bag. “I can rent something in Summer Harbor and take the ferry much less expensively.”
“Four hundred.”
Pausing, she studied his expression. She’d probably pushed him as far as he was going to be shoved. “That will work. I appreciate it.”
She glanced at his left hand. No ring. So far she quite liked Mr. Boyce Masters. Julia and Boyce. The names sounded nice together.
She gave herself a mental shake. Once she took care of her little “problem” here, she’d be long gone.
FOUR
He hadn’t expected seeing Mallory again would leave him so shaken. Kevin hung his hat and coat on the hook in the entry. The low murmur of Kate’s voice mingled with that of his eight-year-old daughter. He’d lost his nanny when she married, and his cousin Kate had offered to fill in while he searched for a replacement.
“Sadie, Kate, I’m home.” His leather recliner by the flickering fire beckoned, and he dropped into its comforting support before leaning d
own to pull off his boots. His brain felt fuzzy and disoriented, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of finding Edmund’s body or from seeing Mallory again.
Footsteps pattered down the steps and across the hall, then his daughter burst into the room like an energetic kitten. Her blonde hair curled to her shoulders, and she wore pink princess pajamas. She was growing up too fast, and her sweet face already showed the promise of head-turning beauty, much like her mother’s. He’d have to threaten the boys away all too soon.
“I’m here, Sadie,” he said when she tipped her head to one side to listen for his breathing.
The familiar pang struck him at her sightless eyes. He reached out and snagged her hand as she neared, then pulled her onto his lap, relishing the little girl scent of strawberry shampoo.
She nestled against his chest and reached up to run her small hand across the evening scruff on his cheek. “You’re late, Daddy.”
“I thought she’d be in bed before you got home.” Dressed in jeans and a bright-blue sweater, Kate stepped into the room with Sadie’s golden retriever, Fiona, on her heels. Kate was about thirty and as beautiful inside as she was outside. She’d had a rough time the past few months with a blood disorder, but thanks to a bone marrow transplant from her twin sister, she had recovered. The only remnant of her ordeal was her short blonde hair.
“Sorry I’m so late.”
“You know I never mind. Sadie and I played Go Fish. There’s chili in the Crock-Pot.” She moved past him and knelt to throw another log into the fireplace.
Fiona’s nails clicked on the oak floors as she came to lean her head against Kevin’s thigh. He ran his fingers through the dog’s silky coat. Fiona was four but showed no sign of a gray muzzle, thanks to the raw food diet Kevin fed her. He wanted the pooch to live as long as possible for Sadie.
“What took you so long?” Sadie asked, still nestled on his lap.
Kevin shot a warning glance toward Kate. “Just work. It’s way past your bedtime.”
“We don’t have school tomorrow.”
“Oh, right, I have a teacher conference. But it’s still pretty late. You’d better go brush your teeth and get ready. I’ll come along and tuck you in.”
She wrinkled her nose but slid off his lap, reached out for the dog, and went down the hall toward the bathroom with Fiona in the lead.
As soon as he heard the distant sound of water running, he turned to Kate. “Edmund Blanchard is dead. I found him on his boat.”
Kate’s large blue eyes widened. “Oh no! Heart attack?”
He shook his head. “He fell and hit his head. Mallory got a call from him as he was dying. She contacted me to go check on him. It looks like there was a struggle on the boat.”
“Murder, then? Is Mallory on her way here?”
“Already arrived.” When the interest on Kate’s face sharpened, he held up his hand. “And yes, I’ve already seen her. I’m going to take her to the boat tomorrow to assess things. The sheriff is calling it an accident though, so I don’t know how much help we’ll get if we decide someone attacked Edmund.”
“Was it hard to see Mallory again after all this time?”
At the sympathy in her voice, he rose and went to throw more wood on the fire. “It was fine. She looked the same.”
But did she really? Gone was the free-spirited girl he’d known, and in her place was a beautiful woman with wisdom in her dark-brown eyes. What was she really like now after fifteen years? He quelled his curiosity. Nothing could change what she’d done.
“Is she at her dad’s house?”
“Yeah.” He folded the lap robe on the floor and put it on the back of the sofa. “You might go see her. She’ll need some support to deal with this.”
“I’m not sure what kind of reception I’ll get, but I’ll give it a try. What about her daughter?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and went to pull the drapes, then paused to look at the yard bathed in the glow of the security light. “She’ll be here in a day or two. She’s with a friend.”
“She’s about fourteen, isn’t she?”
Like Kate didn’t know. The two had been great friends in high school, and though they’d parted ways after things went down so badly here, he knew she’d kept up on Mallory’s situation. She was the one who had told him when Mallory’s husband had died.
Kevin went back to his chair. “You tell me.”
She twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger. “Okay, busted. Haylie is fourteen.”
“Have you tried to mend the rift since she left?”
Kate released her hair and went to grab her coat from the back of the sofa. “I’ve called her a few times but have never gotten her.”
“Did you leave a message?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t have the nerve. The last argument was pretty bad. I figured she’d check caller ID, and if she wanted to talk to me, she’d call back. She never did.”
He walked her to the door. “Thanks for staying with Sadie.”
Her gaze searched his. “Watch yourself, Kevin. You’re way too vulnerable where Mallory is concerned.”
He gave a jerk of his head in answer and shut the door behind her. No need to warn him. He’d already erected his walls long ago.
The wind moaned around the eaves of the cottage, and Mallory tightened the belt on her fuzzy robe as she studied the contents of the refrigerator. There was nothing a normal person would want to eat. She tossed out a carton of curdled milk and several baggies of dried-up sandwiches. Her father rarely ate at home, preferring to join his buddies for a sandwich and coffee at one of the local dives in Folly Shoals.
She tipped her head. Was that a knock at the door? She spared a glance at the clock on the range. Eight o’clock. It was a little late for someone to come calling. She curled her fingers into her palms and sidled to the door. Peering through the peephole, she saw the back of a woman’s head.
She unlocked the door and opened it. “Can I help you?” When the woman turned around, Mallory took a step back and inhaled. “Kate. What are you doing here?”
The full moon gleamed on Kate’s dark-blonde hair, and she lifted the two plastic sacks in her hands. “I figured there was nothing in the house to eat. Can I come in?”
Mallory wasn’t steeled for this conversation, but her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in eight hours. “Of course.” She stepped aside and allowed the other woman to enter. “This is very kind of you. The kitchen is this way.”
“I remember.” Kate followed her and set the sacks on the stained green countertop by the fridge. “There are turkey slices, bread, cheese, yogurt, guacamole, eggs, bacon, and baby carrots.”
Even after all these years, Kate remembered some of Mallory’s favorite foods. She pushed away the stab of guilt. “I’m starving. Want a sandwich with me?”
“I ate already. You go ahead though.” Kate shucked out of her navy peacoat and draped it across a wooden chair at the battered table. She sat at the table and folded her hands.
Mallory wasn’t sure what to say as she quickly made a sandwich and shook some potato chips onto an old melamine plate. “Coffee or something to drink?”
Other than her close-cropped hairstyle, Kate hadn’t changed much since Mallory last saw her. About five feet five, her striking blue eyes dominated her heart-shaped face. Her makeup was tastefully done, and she wore no rings.
Kate stared back. “Done looking?”
Mallory’s cheeks went hot. “Sorry. It’s been a long time. You look good. Not married, I see.”
Kate eased out a rueful grin. “The best guys all moved away after high school. Well, except for Kevin.”
Mallory gave a jerky nod as she settled into the chair on the other side of the table. The elephant in the room wasn’t going away without talking about it. “Look, we might as well get it all out in the open. I didn’t treat you very well. I’m sorry.” Even now, the apology seemed too little too late, and her guilt over the way she’d
treated all of them only added to the blood on her hands.
Kate shrugged one shoulder. “You were dealing with your mom’s death.”
Mallory swallowed. Her throat was thick, and she took a bite of her sandwich. The bread was dry on her tongue. “But that was no reason to cut all of you out of my life that way. You were only trying to stop me from making a mistake. You were right, of course. I never should have married Brian.”
That was a hard truth to admit. Brian had seemed like a safe haven at the time, but marrying him hadn’t been fair to him.
Kate stared down at the table. “This is the first time you’ve been back in all these years? I mean, I haven’t heard you visited or anything.”
Mallory nodded. “Being here brings it all back. And seeing Kevin again . . .” She took a quick sip of her coffee. “I shouldn’t have run off after Mom’s death. Maybe Kevin and I would have married. Everything might have been different.”
“Maybe things turned out the way they were supposed to. It’s hard to second-guess it all now.” Kate studied Mallory’s face. “You haven’t forgiven yourself, have you?”
Mallory set her cup back on the table. “I’ll never forgive myself. Dad made it clear he never did either. When he called me this morning, it was the first time I’d talked to him in a month. I was a colossal failure as a daughter.”
“I’m sure your mom didn’t feel that way. She loved you so much.”
Her eyes burned at the sympathy in Kate’s voice. “I’ve dealt with it. I had no choice. I’m sure every time he talked to me, he remembered. Just like I did.”
“You hadn’t seen him at all?”
“Oh sure, we saw each other. After Haylie came along, we met up in Bangor a couple of times a year. It was always a little tense though. Disappointment typically filled his eyes.”
Kate’s lips flattened and she narrowed her gaze. “I bet you’d never treat Haylie like that.”
Mallory forced down another bite so she didn’t have to answer. She had deserved every ounce of her father’s condemnation. The expression on her mother’s face the last time they’d been together wasn’t something she would ever forget.