Sunset Point: A Shelter Bay Novel (3 page)

The only people who didn’t fall into either the intimidation or fascination categories were the people she worked with. Unfortunately, conversations centered on crime tended to be limiting. Which was why she’d been so grateful when Alexis had arrived in the office two years ago, chucking a position at a prestigious law firm in exchange for the unceasing workload and peon’s wages of a deputy district attorney.

It was as if they’d known each other all their lives and next summer Tess was going to be the maid of honor at Alexis’s marriage to Matthew Miller, a Portland attorney.

As the sun lowered over the Pacific Ocean on her right, turning the water to spun gold, Tess’s mind drifted to the travel brochure for Orchid Island Alexis had shown her. Donovan—who’d visited the island with a friend who’d grown up there—had recommended it as a perfect honeymoon location. With its swaying palm trees, turquoise water, and spun sugar sand, the island looked like everyone’s Pacific fantasy paradise. She was going to have to investigate Orchid Island further. As soon as she had time.

*     *     *

Damn.

Nate rocked back in his chair and glared at the computer screen. He’d been writing for hours, and nothing was working. At this rate, he’d have to pitch the entire mess out and begin again.

It shouldn’t be that difficult. All he had to do was fill three hundred-plus manuscript pages with scenes of spine-tingling horror. He’d succeeded before. Six best-selling novels in the past four years proved that his loyal readers found him to have mastered the art of infusing terror into what appeared to be a perfectly normal setting. Six novels, and not one of them, not even the first, had given him as much difficulty as this one.

As he reread the lines of dreck on the screen, Nate couldn’t help worrying that his problem was that he’d run out of stories to tell. Fears to unleash. Secret, forbidden doors to open.

“Blast,” he muttered, borrowing a salty, archaic curse from the captain as he got up from the desk.

Throwing in the towel for now, he retrieved a beer from the small office fridge and walked over to the large bay windows overlooking the sea. The tide was coming in, the water tinted brilliant shades of crimson, lemon and purple by the setting sun. On the horizon a fishing boat rode at anchor, and Nate imagined he could hear the water faintly slapping against the boat’s sides.

Under normal conditions, the ever-changing panorama of the Pacific Ocean soothed him, cleared his mind, and calmed his senses. But not today. Nate was unreasonably edgy. The disquieting feeling that had settled upon him during his sleep had escalated during the day.

“It’s only a dream,” he reassured himself aloud.

He shook his head as he took a long pull from the bottle. It might be only a dream, but damn, it was messing up his mind. Usually he thrived on his work, racing with zest, even joy, toward each new horror. Lately it was all he could do to grind out five pages a day. It was as if, after six successes, his muse had suddenly deserted him.

Nate cursed. That wasn’t it. The muse who used to perch on his shoulder, whispering words into his ear, hadn’t left of her own free will. It was more as if the woman in the dream had chased her away.

“Who the hell is she?”

It was a rhetorical question, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow MacGrath was involved. It struck Nate as strangely coincidental that he’d begun dreaming of his mystery woman shortly after the seafaring ghost had begun materializing with increasing frequency.

He waited for an answer of some sort, but the only sound he heard was the scraping of a Douglas fir tree branch against the side of the house as the ocean wind picked up.

“Not talking, huh?” he said, knowing instinctively that he wasn’t alone. The temperature in the room had suddenly dropped dramatically.

“I can feel your sly hand in this, Captain. So why don’t you quit being so damn coy and spill the beans so I can get on with my work?”

Nothing. The room, in the lengthening shadows of dusk, was as still as a tomb.

“You’re a stubborn old bastard,” Nate muttered with unconcealed frustration. “But you haven’t licked me yet. I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”

Hopefully it would be sooner. Too many more days like today and he’d be forced to go out and find a real job rather than living his dream of getting paid to tell stories.

Shelter Bay was far from a bustling metropolis, but even in the cities, employers weren’t exactly lining up to hire former war vets. There was always the fact that the ability to take out a terrorist at one thousand yards with an M40 Marine scout sniper rifle wasn’t a skill that translated well to civilian life. Unless he wanted to try to sign on to a police SWAT team, which, after what he’d seen and done, wasn’t an option.

As he polished off the beer, Nate decided that what he needed was a change of scenery. Sitting in the dark talking to ghosts while drinking alone damn sure wasn’t going to solve any of his problems.

He could drive into town. Stop into Bon Temps for some Dungeness crab jambalaya, walk along the waterfront, and if he was lucky, spot some whales.

Spending a few hours among real live people was probably all he needed. He sure as hell wasn’t getting anything accomplished here.

When she reached Shelter Bay, Tess dropped into the sheriff’s office as a courtesy call. She’d met Kara Douchett a few years ago when a Portland wife abuser she was prosecuting had jumped bail, foolishly thinking that he could hide out in this small town where everyone knew everyone else. As their paths had occasionally crossed from time to time, they’d become friends.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said.

“No problem, I’m just clearing up some paperwork. A bunch of high school football players must have bought the town out of toilet paper before committing mayhem on several trees on Eagle Crest Drive. Fortunately, they were caught red-handed when one of them fell out of a tree and broke his ankle.”

“I’ll bet they got in more trouble with their parents and coach than they did with you,” Tess guessed.

“You’d win that bet.” Kara rolled her chair back from her desk, stood up, and rubbed the back of her neck. Tess had often thought that, despite the khaki uniform and ugly black cop shoes, with her slender curves, red hair cut in a sleek, sassy bob, and expressive brown eyes, whoever was in charge of such things should put her on a recruiting poster for law enforcement. “I’m going with you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“You know, I really admire independence, having a fair share of it myself. But you don’t always have to play Lone Ranger. Shelter Bay’s my town. It’s my job to protect and serve the people who live here. Besides, I saw Dana in the market the other day, and the way she suddenly ducked behind a display tower of tomato sauce, I got the feeling she’s avoiding me.”

“Because she’s dragging her feet,” Tess said.

“Yeah. I figured she didn’t want to discuss it. Not that I would say anything about the case in public, but it’s got to be upsetting for her.” Which was an understatement.

“At least she didn’t change her name when she thought she was becoming Schiff’s legal and
only
wife,” Tess said.

“Her daughter had already been through enough with her father dying. Dana didn’t want to leave Laura the only White in the family. I suspect it was also because she worried about hurting Bill’s parents. Also, perhaps, deep down, she wasn’t truly ready to remarry. Word around town is that Schiff pretty much breezed into our little coastal burg with his big city ways, and swept her off her feet.”

“He seems to have a way of doing that,” Tess said dryly, thinking of all the women she’d met that had been taken in by the bigamist. And others she might never know about.

“We can always do a soft double-team on her,” Kara suggested. “We’ll take your car so she won’t have any additional embarrassment of explaining my cruiser outside her store. Then we’ll calmly, reasonably convince her to see the light.” She grinned as if Tess’s agreeing was a foregone conclusion. “And then we’ll celebrate afterwards with cupcakes at Take the Cake.”

“I’ll bet your confession rate is off the charts,” Tess said with a laugh. “Because you definitely just played to my weakness.”

Kara laughed as they left the office. “It’s a gift.”

*     *     *

Dana White’s Seaside Serenity Gift Shop on Harborview featured art and crafts from local artisans. A faithful local clientele and a strong seasonal tourism business had supported her and her daughter after her husband’s death five years earlier. A windsock featuring the Shelter Bay lighthouse spun from above nautical blue-and-white awnings, while cheery yellow mums in a planter by the door greeted customers.

“The only good thing about all this,” Tess said as she parked in front of the white storefront, “is that we caught up with Schiff before he’d bled Dana of every last penny.”

“There is that,” Kara agreed.

Dana’s brow furrowed when she saw Kara enter with Tess, but her smile stayed pasted on her face while the final customer of the day stood in front of a display of blown-glass animals, dithering over a choice between a blue dolphin and an orange crab. After the woman’s obviously impatient husband suggested she just buy both so they could go eat the crab cakes he’d been waiting for all day, the shopkeeper rang up the sale, wrapped the items in tissue paper and put them into a box, which she then put into a white bag with the store’s name written in feminine blue script.

The bell on the door jangled as the couple finally left.

Understandably not appearing at all happy to see Tess and Kara, after offering them something to drink, which they refused, Dana led them into the small office, where rather than sitting behind her white French-style desk, she perched on the edge of a hardback wooden chair. The turquoise color of the chair was far cheerier than its owner’s demeanor.

“It’s not that I don’t want him punished…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes darting around the room like frightened, trapped birds looking for an escape.

“It’s understandable that you’d be uncomfortable about testifying,” Tess assured her.

“I have my daughter to think of.” Dana dragged her hands through her short blond hair. “Laura’s eleven. That’s an impressionable age. How can I expect her to listen to my advice when she starts dating if she finds out that her own mother’s track record with men is so miserable? It’s important for parents to set a good example. If we don’t…”

Her voice trailed off again and she shook her head, turning away from Tess’s openly sympathetic gaze.

Tess leaned forward in her chair, taking one of the woman’s icy hands in both of hers. “You’ve done a wonderful job with Laura,” she said earnestly. “She’s far more mature than most girls her age. I don’t think you have to worry about her.”

“And you and Bill had a great marriage that would still be going strong if it hadn’t been for his accident,” Kara pointed out. A surveyor for an Astoria logging company, Bill White had slid off the cliff road in his truck during a winter storm. “One mistake, which wasn’t your fault because Schiff is a practiced con man, won’t ever negate that.”

“Whether you testify or not, you can’t protect Laura from finding out exactly what kind of man Schiff is,” Tess pointed out.

“So far, we’ve been able to keep the publicity low-key, and you’re loved here in town, so everyone’s on your side. The guy would be in a world of hurt if he did try to show his face back in Shelter Bay,” Kara said. “But once Tess takes the case to trial, believe me, Dana, it’s going to turn into a three-ring circus. Print and TV reporters along with court and entertainment bloggers from around the country are going to descend on the courthouse like a flock of vultures.”

“But at least, if I don’t testify, Laura won’t have to watch me on national television telling the world how stupid I was,” Dana argued. Although Tess had fought against it, the judge, undoubtedly realizing the career-boosting audience potential of showing up on
Court TV
, had agreed to allow the trial to be televised. “She won’t have to go to school and explain how she ended up with a cheating, lying, son-of-a-bitch bigamist for a stepfather because her mother was so desperate for a man.”

“Which wasn’t the case at all,” Kara said. “You aren’t the least bit stupid, and you weren’t desperate. The guy’s a scumbag sociopath whose weapon is charm, Dana. You’re certainly not the only woman to fall for his act.”

“It’s not just Laura. I can’t bear the idea of Bill’s parents trying to explain to all their friends and neighbors how their widowed daughter-in-law could possibly have followed their perfect son with an infamous bigamist.” Jerking her hand free of Tess’s, Dana jumped to her feet and began pacing.

Tess’s heart went out to her, as it did to each and every one of the victims she dealt with. They were the reason she’d gone to work in the district attorney’s office. She might not be able to solve all the world’s problems—she’d never find a cure for cancer or establish world peace—but every time she won one for a crime victim proved hugely satisfying.

Melvin Schiff was going to go to prison. There was not a single doubt in Tess’s mind about that. But this case involved a great deal more than simply putting yet another criminal in prison. There was the matter of restoring the self-esteem of all those women whose lives he’d devastated.

“We’ll arrange for a counselor to talk with Laura,” Tess said. “Privately and as many joint sessions as you need.”

“I don’t know…”

“You mentioned setting an example for your daughter,” Tess persisted quietly. “What kind of example do you think you’ll set if you
don’t
testify?”

Dana stopped pacing. Her expression turned from distraught to suspicious. “What do you mean?”

Tess rose and crossed the room to stand directly in front of the woman she knew was going through her own version of domestic hell. “Consider this. We all know that life isn’t always kind. Or fair. What if Laura someday finds herself married to a man who’s constantly unfaithful to her? Or even worse, abuses her? Maybe mentally. Perhaps even physically. By testifying, you’ll be teaching her that she can be strong enough to get herself out of a bad domestic situation.”