Deception (20 page)

“Yeah, is the
New York Times
calling you yet?”

He folded his arms, hugging the papers to his chest. “I’m happy right here, and now I’ve got my lead story for tomorrow.”

“Ooh, and bump your stellar piece on the firemen’s picnic?” She rolled her eyes.

“The firemen can wait. Everyone wants to know what’s going on with Columbella House.” He spun around and whistled down the hallway.

Mia shrugged and meandered off in the opposite direction. The good people of Coral Cove were going to find out what she intended for Columbella House anyway. It was just going to be sooner rather than later, and while she was still in town.

And still within reach of whoever cared enough about the fate of the house to kill over it.

* * *

D
YLAN PUSHED UP
his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and jotted a few more notes in his book. Charlie had seemed upset, and even Tina had shed a few tears over Kayla’s condition.

Neither one of them knew anything about any cookies, and claimed that Kayla didn’t have any with her when she’d been at their place yesterday. Tina claimed the only cookies she’d served at their little gathering were store-bought.

So where had Kayla gone after leaving the Vegas’ and meeting Mia and him for dinner?

He wanted Mia out of town. If someone had designs on Columbella House, that someone wouldn’t be too happy to discover Mia’s plans for a park. Or maybe that would be just the ticket.

What did this person want? There had to be more to the story than just a desire to see a house preserved or another ocean-view hotel on the coast.

Before he started the engine, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. A missed call from Mia. She was probably hoping he’d found a batch of poison cookies at the Vegas’ place. He’d have to disappoint her.

He didn’t like disappointing Mia. She’d handled his confession about his role in Melody’s death well. Hadn’t tried to talk him out of his guilt. Nobody could do that.

But she hadn’t lost faith in him. Her dark eyes still shone with trust and confidence when he assured her he’d continue to look into the mystery of Marissa’s disappearance.

He reached into the console of his squad car where he’d stashed Marissa’s postcards. He thumbed through them, comparing the writing on the backs of the cards. Identical. The same person wrote all of the cards. Was it Marissa?

He flipped the cards over, and the setting sun glinted off the shiny surfaces, blending the colors of the azure seas and emerald foliage. Anyone could’ve bought these postcards from any location.

He traced the postage in the upper-right corner of the cards. But no one could fake the metered stamp across the postage. These cards had been sent from these locations—no doubt about that.

Matt could be right. Marissa could be on the run, living under an assumed name. Why else would she stay away for so long? She and Mia had never been close, but Marissa wouldn’t have stayed away so long.

Dylan didn’t buy Mia’s fears that Marissa had stayed away all these years out of anger over the stunt Mia pulled. Marissa would’ve been the first one to get a kick out of it.

Marissa had no interest in Columbella or the family history. Besting your twin had been a game the two St. Regis girls had played for as long as Dylan could remember.

The game had landed Mia in more than a few scrapes, scrapes that he’d been only too happy to rectify for her. His lips twitched into a smile. He was still rescuing her, and contrary to her belief, he didn’t mind at all.

His cell phone rang on cue. “I’m outside the Vegas’ house, and no, nobody confessed or offered me milk and cookies. How’s Kayla?”

“Stable, no change.”

“That’s not the best news, but it’s encouraging. She’ll come around.”

Mia sniffled, and Dylan knew she’d replaced Marissa with Marissa’s daughter. If she lost her niece, too, Mia would never be able to forgive herself. Dylan would never be able to bring her back from that.

“The nurse seemed to think Kayla could regain consciousness at any time.”

“There you go. Keep your chin up.”

“So you didn’t get anything from Charlie and Tina?”

“Charlie’s worried sick, and even Tina is upset. I don’t think they had anything to do with poisoning Kayla.”

“I don’t even care where she got the cookies now. I just want her to wake up.” Her words ended on a sob, and Dylan ached to be with her to soothe away the pain.

The woman had reeled him in again, and this time he didn’t think he could let her drop the line and walk away.

“I care where she got the cookies. The person who gave her those cookies is still out there, and I’m sure would like to do some baking for you, too. Also, don’t forget. The cookies killed Hank. We have a murderer on our hands.”

“And Peter? Any word on his cause of death yet?”

“We won’t have anything back for a few weeks, but you’re right. We may have a killer times two.”

“It’s crazy, Dylan.”

“The person who’s doing this is crazy.” He tossed the postcards onto the passenger seat of his car. “But you can let the Coral Cove P.D. handle this. Make your arrangements for the property, and go home. I’ll be in touch—a lot. If Kayla doesn’t regain consciousness before you leave, you can make arrangements to have her moved to a hospital in Phoenix. Did you call her parents yet?”

“Y-yes.”

“What’s wrong? They didn’t blame you, did they?” His hand fisted around the steering wheel.

“Not at all. They knew Kayla had embarked on this quest, and they were okay with that. They’re assuming Kayla’s poisoning was an accident. I didn’t go into too much detail with them.”

“They must be worried sick.”

“They are. They’re coming out as soon as they can get a flight.”

“So, what’s the problem? You sounded…funny.”

She coughed. “My scheme to put my plans for Columbella in motion and then hightail it out of here sort of fell apart.”

He clenched the steering wheel again. “How so? The city zoning won’t allow for a park located on Coral Cove Drive?”

“That’s not it. Mr. Fielder in the planning office was thrilled with the idea.”

“Get to the point, Mia. What’s the problem?”

“I ran into Jimmy Holt at City Hall—literally, ran into him. My papers flew out of my hands, his papers flew out of his hands…”

“He found out about your plans.”

“Yep.”

Dylan swore and hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Is he going public with them?”

“He wouldn’t be Jimmy Holt, boy journalist, if he wasn’t—front-page story in the
Coral Cove Herald
tomorrow, no less.”

“Maybe I can pay him a visit and convince him otherwise.”

“You’d use your power and influence for me?” He could almost hear her fluttering her eyelashes. “Maybe you could flex that tattoo a few times.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Look, you’re not going to convince Jimmy the journalist to hold that story, and we don’t even know how my plans are going to affect the person who poisoned Kayla. Maybe he’ll be happy. Maybe he’s some kind of environmentalist nut who’s been pulling for the whole thing to come down anyway.”

Dylan heaved out a breath and closed his eyes. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but it is what it is. I’ll be done this week, anyway. I have a few more meetings to take, and I need to make arrangements for Kayla. Then I’m going back to New York, and I think it would be pretty obvious of someone from Coral Cove to follow me there.”

“Not if you don’t know this person.”

“Are you telling me it could be some stranger?”

“You don’t know every resident of Coral Cove, Mia, especially now. This person could be someone totally unknown to you.”

“Thanks. You just made me feel a whole lot better.”

He eased the car away from the curb and put his cell on Speaker. “Why are we sitting here talking on the phone when all I want to do is take you in my arms?”

“Really?” Her voice squeaked. “Because that’s what I was thinking, too.”

“Meet me for dinner in town.”

“The Whole Earth Café in fifteen minutes?”

“If you insist, but give me forty-five. I need to drop by the station.”

“You got forty-five, Chief.”

Dylan returned to the station to check in and enter his notes from the Vega interview into his computer. One of his officers told him they’d have to wait a few weeks for Hank’s autopsy, too. Things moved at a snail’s pace in small towns since they had to depend on bigger departments for most of their lab work.

He hoped to God Mia was safely back in New York before he got either Peter’s or Hank’s autopsies back. Then he snorted. That’s probably the first time anyone would suggest someone leave the dangers of Coral Cove for the safety of New York.

He stepped inside the Whole Earth Café, its interior filled with plants and cooled with a ceiling fan. The weather usually started heating up on the coast in September. He’d missed the beginning of the summer when fog typically socked the town.

Mia waved to him from across the room, as if he hadn’t already spotted her. As if she didn’t completely light up that little corner. As if she didn’t send out an electric current that zapped him to his toes every time he saw her.

And if she didn’t stay?

He adjusted his heavy equipment belt and strode across the room. That wasn’t an option.

Her eyes widened at his approach. “You look like you’re ready to arrest me.”

That would work to keep her in town—once he got rid of the threat to her and her family.

“That’s my hungry look. I’m starving.”

She spread her hands. “You can get just about anything here. Don’t let the decor fool you.”

“I know that.” He pulled out a chair across from her and collapsed in it. “Don’t think I haven’t been to every Main Street restaurant at least once since I moved back here.”

“I started without you.” She held up a glass of iced tea.

The waiter stopped by and Dylan ordered some tea and some sweet potato fries.

“How did Kayla look?”

“Like she was sleeping…and just like Marissa.”

“That’s why you’ve bonded so quickly with her.”

“You have to admit—she’s kinda likable.”

“Kind of a pain in the rear end.”

“Just like Marissa.”

Cupping her face, Dylan traced her jaw with his thumb. Her big eyes always drooped when she mentioned her sister. He had to figure out where the hell that woman had gone off to.

“Tell me what Dirk Fielder said about Columbella Park.”

The straw popped out of her mouth. “Did I say I was calling it Columbella Park?”

“It’s catchy and appropriate.”

“Except there aren’t many Columbella shells on this coast.” She waved the straw in his face. “See, the St. Regis family was crazy from the get-go.”

He squished the drop of liquid that had dribbled from her straw onto the table. “For being such a crazy bunch, your ancestors sure amassed a ton of wealth.”

The waiter appeared, parked a basket of steaming sweet potato fries on the table between them and took their order.

Dylan closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet scent. “Aah, this is the only reason I come to this place.”

Mia stabbed one with her fork and blew on it.

Dylan’s gaze lingered on her puckered lips. Those tasted sweeter than any sweet potato fries.

Shoving the basket toward him, Mia said, “You’d better eat the majority of those.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” He dunked one of the fries in some ranch dressing. “Tell me about the plans for the park.”

Mia outlined the restrictions and the hurdles she had to go through to complete the project. She talked about the park, and excitement lit her dark eyes until they sparkled. If only she didn’t have the rest of the garbage hanging over her head. Momentarily freed from the burdens of the past few days, Mia smiled openly with no strain around her eyes. Unrestrained, her laugh gurgled from her throat.

And Dylan basked in her warm glow. It could be like this between them always. He needed her every bit as much as she thought she needed him.

One bite into his burger, his cell phone went off. He held up his index finger to stop Mia’s conversation. “Hang on.”

It was the station. “Reese.”

“Chief, we have a fire just off the highway. Fire engines are on the way, but traffic’s a mess.”

“Any injuries?”

“Not that we know of.”

“Give me the location. I’m in town, so it won’t take me long to get there.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone in the front pocket of his uniform. “Sorry, Mia. I have to run. Fire out on the highway.”

“Let the firemen handle it.”

“Uh, have you forgotten you’re in Coral Cove? Police chief here is like a jack-of-all-trades.” He tapped his plate of uneaten food. “Can you have them wrap this up and take it with you? I’ll meet you at the Sea View when I’m done.”

“I’ll probably stay here and eat my salad.”

He tugged her hair before tucking it behind her ear. “Drive carefully.”

“You be careful. You’re the one heading out to a fire.”

Dropping some bills on the table, he scooted back his chair. “I’ll give you a call.”

She waved to him as he headed out the front door, and then settled back to eat her salad, trying to avoid the temptation of those fries.

“Excuse me?”

The waiter backtracked to the table, balancing three plates.

“Chief Reese had to leave. Could you please bring me a box for his food?”

“Sure thing. I heard about the fire out on the Coast Highway.”

Nothing could remain a secret for long in a small town. Even if Jimmy Holt hadn’t seen her paperwork for the park, everyone would’ve known about the park by tomorrow anyway.

She speared a piece of lettuce and cursed the sweet potato fry beckoning to her from the basket. Finally, the waiter dropped off a box and a bag. Mia loaded Dylan’s burger into the box and dumped the rest of the fries on top of it, snatching one before closing the box.

She pinched the bill between two fingers, and her cell phone buzzed. Hope they weren’t calling
her
to the fire. She glanced at the display, which read
Restricted.