Silent Vows (6 page)

“They’ve been in my family for years.”

“Your family is from Scotland?” he asked.

“Aye.”

“You can tell that by looking at those?” Todd questioned.

“That and the accent gave it away.” Mr.

Harrison laughed at his own joke. “See here?” he pointed to markings on the base. “Celtic. And here you see words, most likely Gaelic. I’ll need to look up their meaning.”

“North, south, east and west,” Myra told them.

Both men gazed at her. Todd continued to stare when Harrison went back to his examination. “Yes, most likely you’re right.” He switched his glasses for a glass one used to examine the stones. “Fabulous.”

“What?” Todd moved to the edge of his seat.

“The gems are not only real, but rare and of the finest quality. My guess is it was made sometime in the fourteenth century.”

“Twelfth,” Myra corrected.

“My dear, I do know my centuries, and this is likely fourteenth or even fifteenth century.” His tone was condescending yet softly spoken.

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“You’re mistaken. My great, great...” She stopped, shook her head. “A distant relative commissioned those made as a wedding gift for his wife. The story has been passed down in my family for generations, generations dating back to the twelfth century.”

“Well, we’ll have to see about that.” He sat them down and removed the eyeglass. “Are you sure you want to sell them?”

Todd interrupted before she could speak, “We want to see what they’re worth.” If they were stolen, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were, selling them could cost him his badge, and land her in jail.

“That may take a few days. We’ll do a carbon dating and cross reference them. Would you mind leaving them with me while we do that?”

Myra’s attention turned to him, uncertainty written on her face.

“I assure you they are safe here, Miss. We have a form for you to fill out and our insurance is secure as is our building.”

“All right.” Todd took the clipboard from him and filled out the questionnaire. “Feel free to call me as soon as you know what they’re worth.”

They stood to leave. Todd thanked the man again, and then asked, “So if you had to venture a guess, what would you estimate their value to be?”

“Ah. Well, don’t quote me, but I’d estimate their worth around one hundred thousand.”

Todd felt his jaw drop.

“Each.”

Once the outside air hit their faces, Todd grabbed her elbow and silently marched her down the street to where he had parked his car.

She practically had to run to keep up with his pace. The dark glasses covering his eyes kept her from seeing his expression. But if she had to guess, 44

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she would say he was upset. Very upset.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

He said nothing.

“You’re hurting my arm.” Myra stopped and tried to pull out of his grip.

He rounded on her in fury. “What the hell have you got me into? Two hundred thousand dollars?” He glanced around and lowered his voice.

“Is that a lot of coin?”

He jerked off his sunglasses and stared at her.

“This is no time to joke, Myra.”

“I’m not.”

“If those candlesticks are stolen, not only will I lose my job, but we, and I emphasize
we
, will both end up in jail.”

His hand still held her arm, his fingers gripped into her flesh. She took her free hand, placed it on his, and added a little spark. Instantly, he let go.

“They are not stolen!” She put two feet between them. “I don’t appreciate you calling me a thief. Or haven’t I made myself clear?”

He studied his hand. “Yeah, well, excuse me for having a hard time believing a woman who has made an art-form out of lying since I met her. Now that my face is associated with yours, and those antiques, you’ll have to forgive me for being concerned about my reputation, not to mention my freedom.”

“If you’re that concerned, why help me? Is there some law, Officer Blakely, forcing you to assist me?

Forgive me for not knowing.” Two could play at sarcasm, and his was making her angry. “Poor little Scottish me, doesn’t quite know all of your American laws.” She placed both hands on her hips, her hair fell to her waist.

People gathered around and watched their exchange. Todd tilted his head at a man he noticed leering. He grabbed her elbow once again.

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Instinctively, Myra clasped his hand and willed more fire into her spark, forcing him to let her go.

He jumped back this time, waving his tingling hand. “How the hell did you do that?”

“Just one of my many secrets, Officer Blakely.

Now if you would be so kind as to take me back to your home so I may retrieve my belongings, I’ll be getting out of your life.”

“Fine!” He reached for her again, but stopped when her eyes warned him not to touch her. Instead, he opened the car door and waited for her to sit before slamming it shut behind her.

****

“Eating.” He got out of the car and waited for her to follow. When she didn’t, he jerked open her door. “Coming?”

“Nay.”

“Get out of the car, Myra.”

“Nay.”

“Dammit, woman, you are driving me to drink.”

He reached down to pull her out.

“Don’t you touch me.” Her voice was ice. “I’m not accustomed to being man-handled, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ha! You hurt me? I don’t think so.”

She pushed the car door wider, and stepped up beside him. “Try me. Try me and let’s-just-see-how-far-you-get.” With each word, she tapped his chest giving him a little jolt.

His face sobered. As did his mood.

“I see I’ve made my point.” Myra shut the car door, and stormed toward the restaurant.

“Where are you going?”

“To eat. Fending off unwanted hands takes a bit 46

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of energy, and since you caused it, you can pay.” She marched into the red and white checkered building, leaving a stunned Officer Blakely behind.

He ordered for them both, then took pity on her when she tried to make the soda come out of the machine. Once seated, Myra watched everyone but him. When the food arrived at the table, she stared at it. It wasn’t until he started eating that Myra followed his lead.

With the first bite of a double cheeseburger with all the trimmings, her eyes closed.

A small part of him wanted to remain angry with her. Yet, when she sat across from him looking like she could spark fire out of her eyes one minute then completely enthralled with her meal the next, he all but melted.

The dimple on the right side of her cheek peeked out. He hadn’t seen that since the first day he had met her, and made a mental note to try and cause it to happen more often.

“So, how do you do that?”

“Do what?” She picked up a French fry, popped it in her mouth.

“You know,” he pointed a finger at her, made a tapping gesture and added, “that shocking thing?”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“I picked it up when I was a child.” She sipped her soda and wiggled her nose. “How did you learn to be so untrusting?”

“I picked it up when I became a cop.”

“I tell you what.” She wiped her face and put the napkin back in her lap. “No more lies. If you ask something I can’t answer, I’ll tell you so.”

“You mean won’t tell me.”

“Okay, won’t tell you. I have my reasons, Todd, 47

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and they are bigger than you, me and everyone around us. ‘Tis the honest to God’s truth.” Her eyes never left his.

“All right. But you have to promise something.”

“What?”

“That you will tell me the truth, all of it, at some point.”

“You won’t believe me. But if that is what you need to hear, then I’ll make that promise. Before I return home, I’ll tell you my story.”

“So you plan on returning to Scotland?”

“Yes. When I can do so safely.”

“It’s not safe now?”

“If it was, do you think I would be here?”

Good point
. “Have you ever been to California before?”

“Nay, ‘tis my first time.”

“How did you end up in Magicland?” He saw her struggle with an answer.

“That I can not tell you.”

And he probably didn’t want to know. Breaking and entering was a crime, one he couldn’t ignore. Or at least shouldn’t.

He gathered their trash and stood to leave.

“Well, since you haven’t been to California before, I suppose you might like to see some of the sights.”

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Todd started with the beach, always a popular destination spot for tourists. Myra was no exception.

Deserted, except for the occasional die-hard surfer whose wet suit kept them warm in the cold waters, they had the beach to themselves.

Myra pointed and asked what the men did in the water on their boards.

“Don’t they have TV’s where you come from?”

“There are no TV’s in my home.”

“What about neighbors?”

“We live far in the country.”

He accepted her answers, explained the art of surfing, and enjoyed the play of expressions cross her beautiful face. She kicked off her shoes and let the cold winter ocean foam around her pale skin.

Todd knelt in the sand and dug his hands in. A sand crab emerged in his palm. She squirmed when he placed the small creature in hers. It moved quickly, causing her to squeal and drop it. The creature burrowed into the sand at an unimaginable speed.

“Where did it go?”

“Hiding from the big giants I think.”

Todd took her hand and helped her stand, then kept it in his. A slight blush rose to her cheeks. He wondered if she was as innocent as she seemed.

When he’d kissed her earlier, she felt virgin shy 49

Catherine Bybee

under his lips, which made him draw back when all he really wanted to do was plunge forward, consequences be damned.

Where was her family? Why had they deserted her? He would have his answers, one way or another.

They walked along one of the many boardwalks and peeked into some of the shops. At the third one, Todd realized Myra pined for some of the clothes hanging from the racks.

“You should get that.” He held up a blouse she noticed. “It would look good on you.”

“Maybe after the candlesticks are sold.”

He had forgotten she didn’t have any money.

“You need clothes. And mine won’t fit you very well.”

He took several items off the rack and thrust them at her. “Here, go try them on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, see if they fit.”

“I don’t have any means of purchasing them.”

She thrust the clothes back to his hands.

“I do.”

“No. I can’t.”

“You can pay me back.”

She looked at the copper colored skirt and matching blouse. “Are you sure?”

“Go.” He pushed her toward the dressing rooms.

She went in and out several times. He met each outfit with a nod of approval or a shake of the head.

The clerk happily made choices and brought them over for her to try.

Todd sat back as she paraded the clothes for him. Once in a while, she giggled and sometimes she blushed. More than once she stayed in the dressing room stating the dress ‘simply isn’t appropriate.’

Todd couldn’t remember enjoying watching a woman shop as he did her.

At the counter, the clerk helping Myra added a 50

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few under-things that she ‘really did need’. Todd handed over his credit card and smiled.

Wearing a calf length skirt, a blouse, and a pair of shoes to match, Myra posed, seeming more at ease. “This is lovely. How can I ever thank you?”

Her dimples showed again, making his heart beat a little too fast. “You just did.”

“Once Mr. Harrison calls back with a price, I can pay you back for all of this.”

He grasped her hand, pointed to a large fish tank in a store window, and changed the subject. He wanted her worry-free. He might not be able to keep her that way for long, but he would try.

At dinner in an outside café, they talked about the difference between the weather in Scotland and California.

Myra asked questions about everything she saw.

He attributed her curiosity to being from another country. Once in awhile, he thought her questions were a little strange, but he kept his observations to himself.

When they finally made it home, it was almost midnight.

“I had a wonderful time,” Myra said as they walked through the door.

Todd followed her to her room, and tossed the bags on the bed. “Good, I’m glad.” He turned to see her studying him.

Her gaze skirted to the floor. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She didn’t look up. “’Tis late.”

“Yes, time for bed.”

She blushed brighter than he had ever seen.

“Oh, ah...”

“Good night, Myra.” He lifted her chin, brushed his lips against hers in a brief caress, and then left the room.

****

Catherine Bybee

“Good night,” she whispered when he was gone.

It took forever to fall asleep, and once she finally did, Todd was waking her up.

“Hey,” he sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to work.”

Her eyes drifted open. The sun hadn’t risen, and Todd stared at her strangely. “What?”

“Work. I have to go to work.”

“Oh...” Myra tried to sit up in bed, only to have his hand keep her in place.

“You sleep. I’ll call you in a few hours.”

She stopped trying to sit up, leaned back against the pillow, and smiled up at him. He wore his full uniform and looked every bit an officer of the law.

“Make yourself at home.” He brushed a hair from her face and got up to leave.

“Sir Blakely?” she murmured.

“Yes.”

“Be safe and Godspeed.”

****

It began with a mound of paperwork, starting and finishing with one subject, Myra MacCoinnich. Of course, according to the record, she was still Jane Doe #33, and he had yet to correct it.