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She hadn’t, and maybe that was what her nerves and her tension were about.
“Would you rather someone else conduct the interview?” he asked as she set a plate of cookies on the table.
“Why would I?”
“Because we’re not strangers? Because we were heading toward being more than friends?”
“We went to lunch together. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not to me, but you seem bothered by the fact that I’m here. I thought maybe that was why.” He grabbed a cookie and bit into it, waiting for her response.
It came slowly.
Very slowly.
Maybe even too slowly.
She walked to the counter, grabbed a mug from a cupboard and poured coffee into it, her hands shaking so hard liquid sloshed over her hand.
“I’m not bothered by the fact that you’re here. It’s just been a tough day, and I’m…upset.” She handed him the mug, their fingers touching, heat arching between them, quicksilver and bright. He couldn’t ignore that, either.
He grabbed her hand before she moved away, his thumb running over the rapid pulse in her wrist. “You’re not just upset. You’re nervous. If I’m not causing that, then what is?”
“Everything.” She glanced at the doorway as if she expected someone to walk in and rescue her.
“Care to explain?”
“You’re here to ask me questions about Olivia. What do you want to know?”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
“Because I don’t want to explain.” She sat down across from him, grabbed a cookie from the plate.
He could keep pushing against a wall of resistance, or he could change tactics and come at things from a different angle, see if that would give him the answers he wanted.
“You’ve known Olivia for five months?” he asked, and she frowned.
“You know she’s only been in town for three months.”
“Right. I just wondered if you did. Where did you two meet?” He knew the answer to that, too, but the benign questions were doing exactly what he intended.
Merry relaxed, the tension in her face easing.
“We talked for a few minutes after story time at the Reading Nook. A few days later, we saw each other at church. She was a really nice girl. Very easy to spend time with.” She smiled sadly, and the sorrow Douglas had been tamping down since he’d stood over Olivia’s broken body reared up. Made his gut clench and his chest tighten. She’d been too young to die, too sweet to be killed so brutally.
“She was. I know Charles appreciated how good she was with the twins.” He kept his voice steady and his tone light. He needed to push the interview forward, not dwell in the emotions of the day.
“She was great with them. She’d have made a wonderful mother.” Merry swallowed hard and stood again, pacing across the room to stare out a window above the sink.
“How did she seem in the last few days? Happy? Upset? Anxious?”
“She was just her normal self.”
“So, she didn’t mention anything that was bothering her? Didn’t seem to have anything on her mind?” He asked the same question in a different way, hoping for a different answer. Wanting a different answer. They needed something to go on if they were going to find Olivia’s murderer.
Merry stiffened but didn’t turn from the window. “She didn’t mention anything that was bothering her.”
“Then what did she mention?”
“Nothing,” she responded too quickly, her voice tight. If he’d been looking in her eyes, he’d have seen the lie. He knew it, and he wanted to know what she was lying about.
“You’re a poor liar.”
“I’m not—”
“Save us both some time, okay? Don’t deny it. Olivia said something to you. What was it?”
“It was private. I don’t think she wanted me to share it,” Merry hedged, and he put a hand on her shoulder, urged her around so he could look into her face.
“Olivia is dead, Merry. Murdered. Keeping a secret for her can’t change that.”
“I know…it’s just…” She bit her lip.
“What?”
“She made me promise not to mention it to anyone.”
A promise, huh?
That might mean something important.
“I don’t think she would expect you to keep your promise under the circumstances.”
“Maybe not, and it really wasn’t a big deal. At least, it didn’t seem like one. Last week, Olivia brought the twins over. While she was here, she said her sweetheart might come looking for her one day. She’d never mentioned a sweetheart before, so it stuck in my mind.”
“A boyfriend?” His pulse jumped at the news. He’d needed a lead. It looked like he just might have one.
“I guess so, but she didn’t use that term. She just said, ‘sweetheart.’”
“And, you didn’t ask who her sweetheart was? Where he was?”
“Tyler spilled his juice, and I had to clean it up. By the time I finished, the moment had passed.” She shrugged, and he could almost feel her forcing each muscle to relax. The tension was still in her face though, the lie still in her eyes.
What was she hiding?
Why was she hiding it?
“There’s more, and I need you to tell me what it is.”
“I already told you everything she told me.” But there was something in her voice that said different. Something that edged along Douglas’s nerves, made him study her pale face a little more intently.
“I don’t believe you.”
“What you believe doesn’t matter. What matters is the truth, and the truth is I’ve told you everything Olivia said.”
“Then, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Just that I’m exhausted, and I’m ready for this interview to be over.” She offered a half smile, and he had to admit, she looked tired. Dark circles beneath her eyes, pale skin.
“Late night?”
“Nightmares,” she responded, and then frowned, picking at a chipped spot on the tile countertop.
“I’d think tonight would be the night for that.”
“It probably will be. I don’t think I’ll ever forget looking down and…” She shook her head and didn’t continue.
“It’s tough. Really tough. But I have to keep asking questions, Merry. I have to find out what was happening in Olivia’s life in the weeks before she was killed. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, if there’s anything else you can tell me—”
“There isn’t.”
“You spoke to her on the phone last night, right?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about the conversation.”
“I asked if we were still on for today. She said we were. That was it.”
“No hint that she was upset? Nothing that would make you think she was in danger?”
“I already told Keira there was nothing unusual about the conversation. Not that one. Not the one before it. Not any of the conversations Olivia and I had. Our discussions were always about kids and jobs and what we were going to make for dinner. Mundane things that really didn’t matter much.”
“Did she seem happy here?”
“Usually. She loved her job and the twins. Sometimes, though, she seemed a little down. Like maybe she was missing home.”
“It’s not surprising that she’d be homesick sometimes.”
“I guess not, but she left Ireland after her mother died because she wanted a fresh start. Now everything she wanted, all her dreams, they’ve died with her.” Merry blinked rapidly, her eyes filling with tears, and he patted her hand, warmth seeping through him at the contact.
Face-to-face, looking straight into Merry’s deep brown eyes, he knew two things for sure. First, he was as attracted to her now as he’d been the first moment he’d seen her. Second, she hadn’t told him everything she knew.
It was his job to find out what she was hiding, to figure out if it connected to Olivia’s murder. His job. His duty. All part of the same thing, and he wouldn’t let Merry stand in the way of that. No matter how attractive and compelling he found her.
He placed his coffee cup in the deep porcelain sink. “I think that’ll do it for today. I’ll stop by again tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” She sounded appalled, her dark eyes wide, her freckles stark against smooth, pale skin.
“Will that be a problem?”
“No. I just…I’ve told you everything I can. What good will another meeting do?”
“Telling me everything you can is a lot different than telling me everything you know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, but the shadows in her eyes said something different.
“You know, Merry—” he stepped close, cupped her jaw, her skin silky smooth beneath his hand “—you’ve lived in Fitzgerald Bay for a year. We’ve been out together, spent a couple of hours talking to each other, but I still don’t know much about you.”
She stiffened, her jaw tightening beneath his palm. “Since we’re not dating, you know enough.”
“That’s what I thought, too. Until you started lying to me.” He stepped back, watching as his meaning settled in and over her.
“I—”
“I have a lot of work to do. I’ll be back tomorrow. Sometime between now and then, you might want to decide whether continuing your lies is worth losing everything.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Withholding information and evidence from the police is a crime you could go to jail for, Merry.”
“You can’t be serious!” Something flashed in her eyes, a terror so deep that Douglas almost regretted the threat.
Almost.
But he had a job to do, a murderer to find. Olivia deserved justice. He planned to get it for her, and he planned to do it quickly.
He couldn’t allow the investigation to go on too long without a suspect. If he did, people might do exactly what he feared and point their fingers at Charles.
The Fitzgerald family motto had been stamped onto his heart before he was old enough to know what it meant. He lived it, breathed it, believed it.
God first.
Family second.
Duty to the community after that.
Olivia’s murder touched on all those things, and he’d push for answers until he found the person who killed her.
Push no matter how uncomfortable pushing might be.
Push no matter the terror he saw in Merry’s eyes.
Push, because he had a feeling she was the key to solving the case.
If she was, there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say that could make him go away.
FOUR
He meant it.
The coldness in Douglas’s eyes left no doubt about his intentions. He’d be back tomorrow, and he’d ask more questions. If he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d come back again and again and again.
Merry didn’t need time to decide if continuing to lie was worth going to jail over. She couldn’t go to jail. Couldn’t leave Tyler. Couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen to him if anyone found out….
But no one would.
Douglas was interested only in the murder investigation, not Merry’s past. As long as she was up front about her friendship with Olivia, she had nothing to worry about.
Only she’d made a promise and breaking it seemed paramount to dishonoring Olivia’s memory.
Please, God, help me know what to do.
Break the promise? Keep it?
She took a deep breath as she followed Douglas to the door, tried to look into his eyes and convince him that she had nothing to hide. “I haven’t lied to you.”
“But you haven’t told me the whole truth, either. That’s a problem for me, Merry. I want full disclosure. I want everything that you know about Olivia. Everything she said, everything you thought she might have meant. Everything.” He hooked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the tender flesh there. She felt his warmth seeping through her, felt herself giving into his urgency and her own need to tell him what he wanted to know.
I trust you more than I trust anyone else in Fitzgerald Bay, Merry, and I’m trusting you with this. Promise me you’ll keep it secret. Don’t tell another soul about it, Keep it locked away until my sweetheart comes for it. Promise me.
Olivia’s words seemed to drift in on the frigid winter air as Douglas opened the door. They sealed Merry’s lips, insisted that the promise be kept, the secret hidden.
“Think about it, okay?” he said softly, and Merry nodded, afraid that if she spoke, she might say what she shouldn’t, reveal what she’d promised not to.
“Mommy, is he leaving?” Tyler appeared at the top of the stairs, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement, his black eyes flashing with curiosity.
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t show him my other police car.” He held up a small police car, his sleeve riding up just enough to show the bottom edge of the scar. A purplish smudge against tan skin. Barely noticeable, but Merry noticed, and she wanted to race up the stairs, pull his sleeve down.
“I haven’t given you permission to come out of your room, Ty. Go back in there.”
“But he’s leaving!”
“For now. I’ll be back tomorrow, sport,” Douglas responded, and Merry was sure she heard a threat in his words.
“See my other car?” Tyler held out the car again, the sleeve riding up even farther, revealing more of the scar. Merry’s heart skipped a beat, then raced on, the sloshing pulse of it stealing her breath. If Douglas noticed the purplish mark, if he asked about it…
“Go to your room, Tyler William. This instant.” The sharp edge in her tone surprised Tyler as much as it surprised Merry, and he shot her a hurt look before trudging back to his room.
Great.
Could the day get any worse?
“He’s got a lot of energy,” Douglas said, and Merry braced herself for the questions she knew would come.
Because, of course, the day could get worse.
“That’s for sure.”
“He doesn’t look much like you.”
“He looks like his father.” It’s what she always said, and she assumed it was true.
“You were married?”
“No.”
“I see,” he said, and she was pretty sure he did see. All her half truths and evasions. Her way of living for four long years.
“If you don’t need anything else—”
“Do you share custody with Tyler’s father?” He cut her off, and she knew he’d go when he was ready. Not a minute sooner.
“He’s not in our life.” Stick to the truth. Keep it simple. Don’t offer more than what is asked for. Those were the rules she lived by, and she followed them as if her life depended on it.
Her life probably did depend on it.
“Has he ever been?”
Keep it simple.
“No.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
“Not one I want to share.”
“All right.” Douglas studied her intently, his eyes dusky blue, his expression unreadable, and she wondered what he did see.
More than she wanted him to.
Wasn’t that the reason why she’d told him things weren’t working out between them?
She had too many secrets, and he’d asked too many questions and lying to someone she respected and admired and wanted to get to know wasn’t something she’d been willing to do.
She still wasn’t willing to do it, but she couldn’t tell him the truth without losing everything she cared about most.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, lamely filling the silence.
“See you then,” he responded as he walked down the porch steps, zipping his bomber jacket against the cold.
He moved with an effortless confidence. Why wouldn’t he? He was a Fitzgerald in Fitzgerald Bay. Surrounded by family and love. Embraced by a community that knew and loved him.
Merry’s siblings were in Boston, and she couldn’t return there. Her mother and father had been gone for a decade.
All she had was her son and way too many secrets.
Sometimes, that made life a little lonelier than she wanted it to be.
Douglas tipped his hat as he got into his SUV, flashing the charming smile that had given him a reputation as the most eligible bachelor in town. Merry had heard plenty about his single status during her first months in Fitzgerald Bay. As a matter of fact, more than one of the older ladies in her Bible study had suggested that Douglas would be perfect husband and father material. Maybe that’s why she’d given into temptation and gone out with him. Or maybe she’d just been desperate to connect, to feel normal and unencumbered. To be young and carefree and filled with dreams.
Whatever the case, she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t afford to make another one. She closed the door, turning the bolt and setting the alarm, checking the windows and back door. Going through the ritual that had been part of her life for four years.
When she finished, she went into Tyler’s room, put her hand on his solid little shoulder. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, sweetie, but you need to obey me the first time. Not the second or third.”
“I’m sorry, too, Mommy. Next time I’ll listen better.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in her side. Precocious and busy, he had a sweet nature that made him very easy to love.
“Good. Now, give me a kiss, and then we’ll go down and have some dinner.”
“Kiss!” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, giggling as she tickled his belly.
“Let’s go.” She took his hand, and he bounced out of the room. Bounced down the steps. Bounced into the kitchen. Preschool teachers were already talking about attention deficit and hyperactivity. Very bright. Extremely likable. Too busy. Too active. Too talkative. The labels had been stamped on his forehead, and Merry knew they’d follow him into kindergarten in the fall. She’d been hoping that being in a small community, having friends and teachers who accepted him as he was would smooth the transition into school. That was one of the reasons she’d stayed in Fitzgerald Bay longer than she’d stayed anywhere since she’d left Boston.
“Is the policeman really gone?” Tyler asked, and Merry nodded.
“Yes.”
“But he’s coming back tomorrow?”
“That’s right. Only tomorrow, you’re not going to open the door for him. You’re going to let me do that.”
“But—”
“Tyler, it’s one of our rules that can’t be broken, remember? You are never to open the door unless I give you permission.” Because the thought of him opening the door for a stranger with his black eyes and deeply tanned complexion filled Merry with terror.
“I remember. I won’t open the door again. I promise.” He threw his arms around her waist, his chubby cheek pressed to her thigh.
“When you make a promise you have to keep it. Right?” Even if the promise costs you everything.
“Yes. Can I have a cookie?”
“After dinner.” Which couldn’t come soon enough. She needed time to think. Not easy to come by with Tyler awake and active. She wouldn’t have it any other way, though.
“When is dinner?”
“Soon.”
“Chicken nuggets?”
“Fish.”
“Yuck.” Tyler frowned, and Merry did her best not to smile.
“Be happy we have food.”
“I’d be happier if the food was chicken.” He ran to the living room window, pressed his face against the glass. “Is he really coming back?”
“Yes, Tyler. Tomorrow.”
Unless she could think of a way to get out of it. A way that wouldn’t make Douglas more suspicious than he already was.
Or, maybe she didn’t have to think of a way. Maybe, she just needed to make a way. Pack a bag for herself and Tyler, take the bus south or west or even north, ride until she reached a place where she and Ty could easily get lost in the teeming mill of humanity. She’d done it before, been successful before. She could do it again. Only, she had a feeling that Douglas would track her down. He might be charming and easy to look at, but he wouldn’t be easy to cross.
The phone rang, and she answered quickly, eager for a distraction. “Hello?”
“Merry? It’s Fiona.” Her boss Fiona Fitzgerald’s voice poured across the line, and Merry blinked back the tears she’d been fighting all afternoon. Melting into a blubbering puddle of sorrow and fear wouldn’t do her any good, and it would only scare Tyler.
“I guess you’ve heard the news, Fiona.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone in town who hasn’t. How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? I’m shaken, and I wasn’t the one who found Olivia.”
“I’m sure.” An image of the body lying below the cliff, arms and legs splayed, blond hair dark from salty spray flashed through her mind, and she shoved it away. She wanted to remember Olivia vibrantly alive. Not broken and still.
“Douglas said he’s going to stop by your place tomorrow. Would you like me to come by, too? I can bring Sean. He and Tyler can play together.”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Fiona.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” A widow with a six-year-old son, Fiona had proven to be an understanding employer. She allowed Merry time off when she needed it, understood the demands of single motherhood.
“And I appreciate it, but I don’t want you and Sean to give up your afternoon for us. Why don’t you bring him over when the Reading Nook closes next week? We can have dinner together.” If Merry was still around, and the way that things were looking, she wasn’t sure she would be.
But she didn’t want to leave.
She liked Fitzgerald Bay. She liked the people she’d met there. She liked her little house and her landlady. But more than all of that, she liked the home she was making for Tyler. A place to settle, that’s what she’d seen when she’d driven into the little fishing town. She didn’t want to have to run from it.
“Are you sure, Merry? My brother is charming, but he can be pushy. I don’t mind being a buffer.”
“Am I going to need a buffer?”
“That depends on how much Douglas thinks you know.”
“I’ve already told him what I know, so I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She hoped, because from the sound of things, Douglas might have mentioned his suspicions to Fiona. Or, at least, asked enough questions about Merry that Fiona sensed his suspicions. Either way, things weren’t looking good.
Get out of town, Merry.
Go. Before he finds you.
Promise me.
The words whispered out of the past, the desperation in them reaching across four years, filling Merry with the same fear she’d felt the day Nicole had said them.
“If you change your mind, let me know. And if you need some time off work—” Fiona broke into her thoughts, and Merry forced herself to focus on the conversation.
“I won’t.” Sitting around the house, reliving the moment that she’d looked down and seen Olivia’s body was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I’ll see you at church tomorrow.”
“See you then.” If she didn’t pack everything and leave town.
She hung up and walked into the living room, looked out onto the quiet street. Darkness swept in from the east, casting shadowy dusk across the yard. Flakes of snow fell, swirling onto golden grass and black pavement. A beautiful evening, and Olivia wasn’t around to enjoy it.
Merry wiped away hot tears.
“Are you sad, Mommy?” Tyler tugged her hand, and she looked down into his face.
“I’m hungry. Want to help me make the fish?” She sidestepped his question, pulling him toward the refrigerator.
She’d think about Olivia after Tyler went to bed.
She’d think about the promise she’d made to her.
Think about the secret she’d hidden beneath the floorboard in her closet.
Think about truth and lies and the fine line between protecting someone and obstructing justice.
Think.
Pray.
Hope that God would help her figure out what to do, because she didn’t know, couldn’t decide.
Right path.
Wrong path.
She’d stopped knowing which one she was on years ago.
Now she all wanted was to keep Tyler safe.
Please, God, help me keep him safe.
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