Murder in the Mist (28 page)

He reached around and removed a white envelope from his back pocket and laid it on the counter. “Would you give this to Laura after I leave?”

Phyllis frowned up at him, then stared at the envelope. “She’s upstairs.”

“It’s easier this way.”

She opened her mouth as if to form a polite denial, then nodded. “Ayuh, ’spose so.”

Warm relief spread through him. He went around the counter and gathered the older woman in his arms, then released her with a peck on the cheek. “You’ve been a good friend, Phyllis. If you’re ever in El Paso, look me up. I’ll treat you to a Texas-sized steak.”

She swiped a tear from her cheek. “I might just take you up on that, you handsome galoot.”

He gave her an appreciative smile. “You understand why I can’t stay?”

She darted her gaze toward the back room, where the stairs led to the apartment, and back again. “Ayuh. I read in a western novel where the good guy always tells the sheriff to keep the sun to his back. I hope you catch the men who destroyed your family. Take care of yourself, Mitch.”

Mitch released a heavy sigh. “I’ll do that.”

He turned and walked out into the sunshine, closing the door softly behind him. Relief washed over him, quick and easy. He was on his way home.

****

Phyllis quickly whispered a prayer as she climbed the stairs. She knew she’d find Laura working. The sun porch had become her temporary office. Her heart swelled with love and a tinge of sadness when she spotted her niece’s blonde head bent over the laptop.

A gull’s shadow crossed in front of the screened area as it soared high above and then disappeared in the glare of the morning sunlight. A companionable silence filled the porch. Phyllis held out the envelope.

Laura looked up. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“Ayuh.”

Laura offered a sad smile. “I don’t know whether to be angry or relieved that he chose to write a note instead of saying goodbye in person.”

Phyllis noted the dejected set of her niece’s shoulders and the tears swimming in her eyes. “Would you like privacy while you read it?”

Laura gazed off where the sparkling aqua waters of the cove met the pale blue horizon. She sighed. “No.”

She ran her finger along the sealed flap and removed the folded note. She scanned the page, and then looked at her aunt. “His handwriting is exceptionally neat for a man. I think I’ll read it aloud.”

Phyllis settled in a rocker and waited. The sadness in Laura’s voice tugged at her heartstrings. She looked so fragile sitting there with her face flushed and somber.

“Dearest Laura…” She held the note against her chest. “Aunt Philly, he called me
Laura
—not Friday.” She blinked several times, then continued, “Saying goodbye isn’t easy. Maybe this note is the coward’s way out. I’d like to think it’s easier for both of us. We knew a storm was building between us. I’m not sure whether it was love or the kind of psychological emotion victims seek when they’ve experienced extreme trauma. Maybe we simply needed each other to heal our recent hurts. Either way, a future together isn’t in our cards. I have bad guys to catch, and you have a lifetime of adventures to share with your aunt, and a newspaper to run. I will always adore you in a very special way.

“Bryan is a good guy, Laura. I’ve already told him that I’m not his competition. It doesn’t take a fool to see he’s head over heels in love with you. Give him a chance to prove it. Be happy!”

She racked her teeth across her bottom lip as she folded the letter and gently placed it back inside the envelope. “He’s right, Aunt Philly. I’m not sure what I feel for Mitch is true love, but I sure would have liked the opportunity to find out. I’m going to miss him, more than he’ll ever know.”

Phyllis rose from the rocker. She patted her niece on the shoulder. “It’s too hot for amaretto hot chocolate. How about a cold beer to drown our sorrows?”

Laura’s cell phone rang. She looked at the ID and frowned. “It’s Bryan.”

“Well, answer it.”

She rubbed a hand over her face and through her hair. “Hi, Bryan.”

“I’m downstairs. Okay if I come up? I have lobstah rolls.”

She sighed. What was it Mitch had said?
Set the rules, Friday. Let Bryan know you want to go slow and easy.
“A guy after my own heart. I never turn down my favorite food.”

Her aunt smiled. “I guess that’s my cue to go back to the bookstore.”

“Never, Aunt Philly. Please stay. He has lobster rolls.”

Phyllis laughed. “My lovely niece, you have a lot to learn about courtship. Put mine in the fridge for later.”

With that Phyllis walked down the stairs, meeting Bryan halfway. “She’s in a slump. Go easy.”

“What’s happened?”

“Let’s put it this way—if you were ever worried about Mitch being your competition, you can stop. He left this morning.”

Bryan pressed his lips together. “Somehow, I don’t feel as glad as I thought I would. I really liked Mitch.”

****

Uncertain of her feelings for Mitch, Laura felt the pain jabbing her chest and stealing her breath. If she didn’t love him, then what was wrong with her? She glanced at the novel sitting in her aunt’s rocker and thought about how Phyllis had complained about the ending. A small smile quirked Laura’s lips as she surmised that life was like the last chapter in a book. If you don’t like the ending—write a new one.

“Laura?”

“Out here, Bryan.”

She sighed and slid the envelope under the laptop. “There’s cold beer in the refrigerator. I’d get it, but…”

Bryan sat down, then stood again. “Can we talk before we eat?”

She looked up at him. “Sit down, Bryan. You’re making me nervous.”

Today was his day off. Instead of his usual ranger uniform, he wore khaki shorts, a green T-shirt, and tan boating shoes without socks, a typical summer outfit that highlighted the blond hairs on his tanned legs and arms. Her emotions careened like a billowing storm, her thoughts equally scattered.

He leaned forward and placed his forehead gently against hers. “I know you don’t like sailing or deep sea diving, and marriage isn’t on your mind, but can I convince you to change your thinking about cohabitation?”

The memories of Jolly’s death and of her recent violent encounter with Benjamin Noone floated through her mind. All too new and fresh to shove aside. Mitch had saved her. Bryan had held her. Mitch had said goodbye. Bryan was a safe harbor.

Like a shaft of sunlight slicing through thick fog, a warm glow spread through Laura. She leaned forward and, with a wry smile, brushed her lips against his. “Cohabitation…hmm. I’ll give it serious thought.”

Bryan trailed a finger down her smooth cheek. Then both his hands settled on hers. “If your leg weren’t in a brace, I’d be willing to give you a lesson right this minute.”

She suddenly wanted to cling to him, love him, sink into his strength, drown in the solid, muscular feel of his body and the musk fragrance of his aftershave. “Doctor’s orders. Can’t remove this contraption for another ten days.”

“I’m not trying to rush you.”

“Bryan…shut up and kiss me.”

“You’re beautiful, Laura.”

Not quite ready for that particular sentiment, she was glad he hadn’t declared his love. She laughed and plumbed his gaze. “If you’re not going to kiss me, then I’m hungry. How about a lobster roll and a beer?”

He stood and, like a gallant knight, bowed at the waist. “Your wish is my command. By the way, you can cook, can’t you?”

She knew what a kind heart he had as she lifted one corner of her mouth into a tiny smile. “Not really, but why should I, when there are so many fine restaurants in Cole Harbor?”

Cocking his head to one side, he studied her with mock concentration. Then as if tired of the wordplay, he leaned forward and kissed her. “Touché.”

She filled her mind with pleasant thoughts, and planned to enjoy setting the rules while she and Bryan forged their lives together—slow and easy.

If you enjoyed
MURDER IN THE MIST
, you’ll want to read the sequel,
SHADOWED REUNION
, coming soon from The Wild Rose Press, Inc. Here’s a sample:

Laura Friday peered through her sunglasses at the smiling waiter as she accepted the frosty piña colada. After savoring a long sip, she looked at her aunt. “Isn’t Hawaii glorious? I can’t believe we’re wearing shorts in December.”

Phyllis Friday wriggled her bare toes. “I don’t envy our friends in Maine. Cole Harbor is a ghost town this time of year. Poor Maudine, having to shovel snow at her age. I wish she had agreed to come with us.”

“Thank you, Aunt Philly.”

Phyllis lowered her sunglasses to peek over the rim. “Whatever for? I'm the one who should be thanking you. You’ve made my long-awaited dream vacations come true. Paris in September, and now basking in the sun with my favorite niece.”

Laura laughed. “I'm your only niece.”

“Ayuh, and you’re a keepah.”

Silence stretched between the two women as if each were lost in her own thoughts. It was Phyllis who broke the interlude. “Have you given thought to Bryan’s proposal?”

“I swear, sometimes I think you’re psychic.” Laura kept her voice casual. “He’s handsome, caring, and kind, a senior park ranger. His future is secure, but we’ve only know each other a few months. It hasn’t been a year since Jolly’s death, and I'm still traumatized over being kidnapped and nearly killed by Benjamin Noone. I need time, Aunt Philly. That’s why being here with you is so special.”

“Ayuh, you’ve had your share of grief, that’s for certain. Nonetheless, Bryan loves you.”

Laura harrumphed. “Love? I don’t even know what that means. I loved Jolly like a brother. I love you, I love my job as a reporter, and I love the lobster rolls from the Silly Lobster. I have feelings for Bryan, but I don’t think what I feel is
love
. Aren’t you supposed to experience euphoria, and giddiness, and want to dance on air?”

Phyllis laughed and waved. “Yoo-hoo, waiter. Two more piña coladas, and with an extra splash of rum. Bill it to our room. Suite 2312.” She turned back to Laura. “You make a good argument. All I can say is sometimes friendship grows into an even stronger affection. Remember what Mitch kept telling you—give it time. If you’re not ready, don’t allow Bryan to pressure you.”

Mitch Carter. Laura didn’t want to think about him, and decided to change the subject. “C’mon, let’s go freshen up. I'm looking forward to the luau and watching the hunky male hula dancers swiveling their sexy hips.”

After an evening of over-indulging in food and fun, Laura and Phyllis returned to the hotel. “Laura, I can’t remember the last time I felt this alive, totally exhausted, and a wee bit tipsy.”

Laura kissed her aunt on the cheek, quietly slipped into her bedroom, and shut the door. Uttering a sigh of relief, she kicked off her silver orthopedic slippers, letting her feet sink down into the soft lush carpeting. She changed into an oversized T-shirt and climbed beneath the silken duvet.

The past several weeks had a dreamlike quality about them. Could it already have been four months since Deputy Sheriff Mitchell Carter rescued her from a demented psychopath? She closed her eyes. Too much had happened since the beginning of the year. She found it all slightly overwhelming.

It was still incomprehensible that she’d let Mitch walk out of her life. Yet hadn’t they both agreed the timing wasn’t right for them? He was returning to El Paso to run for sheriff and to bring down the men who had murdered his wife and wounded his mother. As for herself, having given up her job as a New York investigative reporter she had just purchased the
Harbor Gazette
and was trying to recover from post traumatic stress disorder, plus coming to terms with being a cripple for the rest of her life. She had made it clear she wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she certainly wasn’t leaving Cole Harbor. And then there was Bryan.

It was true, Mitch had often told her to set the rules, to go slow and easy. Maybe that’s what bothered her about Bryan. As much as she resisted his proposals, he pushed, always declaring his love for her. There was, as yet, no formal announcement of an engagement, but everyone in Cole Harbor expected a spring wedding.

A solitary tear dislodged itself from the corner of her eye and slowly slid down her cheek to finally fall unheeded on the pillowcase. So here she was on a beautiful breezy night in Hawaii, her hip and leg aching, and feeling a little sorry for herself.

An even bigger sigh escaped her lips as she stared up at the ceiling.

****

Just for an instant, unable to separate dream from reality, Laura believed herself back in her own bed in Cole Harbor.

“Laura!” The voice cut through the silence in the room like a knife. “Wake up!” The voice was resonant and forceful.

She wanted to shrug off this intruder. Brilliance from the bedside lamp and the persistent hand shaking her shoulder caused her to force open her eyes. She yawned. “Aunt Philly, what’s wrong?”

Her aunt’s voice quavered with emotion. “I don’t know how to tell you!”

Laura looked at the clock. She scooted to a sitting position. “It’s one in the morning.” The pinched, drawn look on her aunt’s face caused every muscle in Laura’s body to tense. “What’s happened? Are you ill?”

Phyllis stood at the edge of the bed. Hands knotted together, her voice a pitch higher, she quavered, “There’s been a terrible accident… We’ve lost everything… Oh, by Godfrey, Laura, what are we going to do?”

Laura swung from the bed and gripped her aunt by the shoulders. “You’re not making sense. Take a deep breath and start from the beginning.”

“I-I actually think I might faint. I feel all swimmy-headed.”

Laura steered Phyllis toward a chair and helped her sit down. “I’ll get you a cold cloth.” She limped to the bathroom and returned with a dampened washcloth. “Did you have a bad dream about an accident? Can I get you a bottle of water from the refrigerator?”

Phyllis shook her head as she placed the cool cloth to her face. She drew a shuddering breath. “If only it were a bad dream. It’s seven p.m. in Maine. Maudie didn’t realize the time difference. There was a gas leak in the underground lines. Something happened. I don’t know what or how. Maudie was near hysteria and yelling into the phone. I could hardly make sense of what she was saying. Oh, by Godfrey! This is terrible…terrible!”