Merry shuddered, pulling Douglas’s coat close.

Leather, soap, subtle masculinity. They clung to the bomber jacket and to Merry. She took a few steps away from the activity, wanting to run back to her SUV and drive home. Wanting to believe that the young woman’s heartbreaking death would change nothing.

Just stay calm.

Answer the questions.

Try not to look like a criminal.

But she was.

She was.

FITZGERALD BAY:

Law enforcement siblings fight for justice and family

The Lawman’s Legacy—Shirlee McCoy, January 2012

The Rookie’s Assignment—Valerie Hansen, February 2012

The Detective’s Secret Daughter—Rachelle McCalla, March 2012

The Widow’s Protector—Stephanie Newton, April 2012

The Black Sheep’s Redemption—Lynette Eason, May 2012

The Deputy’s Duty—Terri Reed, June 2012

Shirlee McCoy

has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and she began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later, she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of five, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in the Pacific Northwest and share their house with a dog, two cats and a bird. You can visit her website at www.shirleemccoy.com, or email her at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.

The Lawman’s Legacy

Shirlee McCoy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

Welcome to Love Inspired!

2012 is a very special year for us. It marks the fifteenth anniversary of Love Inspired Books. Hard to believe that fifteen years ago, we first began publishing our warm and wonderful inspirational romances.

Back in 1997, we offered readers three books a month. Since then we’ve expanded quite a bit! In addition to the heartwarming contemporary romances of Love Inspired, we have the exciting romantic suspenses of Love Inspired Suspense, and the adventurous historical romances of Love Inspired Historical. Whatever your reading preference, we’ve got fourteen books a month for you to choose from now!

Throughout the year we’ll be celebrating in several different ways. Look for books by bestselling authors who’ve been writing for us since the beginning, stories by brand-new authors you won’t want to miss, special miniseries in all three lines, reissues of top authors, and much, much more.

This is our way of thanking you for reading Love Inspired books. We know our uplifting stories of hope, faith and love touch your hearts as much as they touch ours.

Join us in celebrating fifteen amazing years of inspirational romance!

Blessings,

Melissa Endlich and Tina James

Senior Editors of Love Inspired Books

Dear Reader,

When I was a kid, summer and winter vacations meant trips to Massachusetts to visit family. Since then, I’ve had a love for New England. Beautiful fall foliage, cold crisp winter, bright blue summer sky… You can’t beat it for seasonal changes, nor can you help feeling the history of the places you visit there. It thrilled me to be asked to participate in a continuity series set in the area. The small town of Fitzgerald Bay is quaint and tight-knit, the people that live there full of character and strength. Writing the story of Douglas Fitzgerald and Merry O’Leary brought me back to those wonderful days I spent with people I loved in a place I loved. It also reminded me of God’s power. Even in the worst times of our lives, even when we aren’t sure we’ve made right decisions, done the right thing…even when we know we haven’t… He is there, His love so powerful and strong, His desire for us so great that it rises above our failures and pulls us back to Him again and again.

I hope that you enjoy the first book in the Fitzgerald Bay continuity series.

I love to connect with readers. You can visit me at http://shirlee-mccoy.blogspot.com, connect with me on Facebook or drop me a line at Shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.

Blessings!

Shirlee McCoy

Ah, Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you.

—Jeremiah 32:17

Contents

Dear Reader

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

ONE

Captain Douglas Fitzgerald pulled up in front of his father’s colonial-style house, eyeing the line of cars that stretched along the curb. The entire Fitzgerald clan had gathered for his grandfather’s birthday celebration, and it looked like he was the last to arrive. Not a problem. He had a foolproof excuse. Duty first. That’s the way his father had raised him. It was the only way he knew how to be. Seeing as how he was working his shift with the Fitzgerald Bay police department, he had no choice but to show up late and leave early. His father knew that. His grandfather knew it.

Yeah. He had an excuse, but he still wished he could spend a little more time visiting with Granddad and the rest of the clan and a little less time doing paperwork back at the office. He loved Fitzgerald Bay. Loved the people, the community, the easy predictability of small-town life, but predictability could be boring.

Or, maybe, it was just his life that could be boring.

Routine.

Predictable.

Empty?

He frowned as he stepped into the oversize foyer.

Voices carried from the dining room, the sound of laughter and chatter ringing through his childhood home. Empty? His life had never been that. Could never be that. Not with his boisterous family around.

But there were moments when he felt that something was missing.

Someone was missing.

He frowned again.

No one was missing. Nothing was missing. His life was exactly the way he wanted it to be.

“Douglas!” His sister Keira smiled as he walked into the foyer. Still dressed in her police uniform, straight dark hair pulled into a ponytail, her cheeks pink, she looked closer to sixteen than twenty-three.

“I can’t stay long. Looks like everyone is having a good time.” He glanced at the throng of family members.

“Did you expect anything less?”

“Not when it comes to our family. Where’s Granddad?”

“Holding court in the living room. You’d better go see him. He’s been asking when you were going to get here.”

“He knew I had to work.”

“He’s still been asking.” She shrugged.

“I’ll go see what he wants.” Douglas walked into the large, comfortable living room, waved to his grandfather.

“You finally made it.” Ian Fitzgerald stood as Douglas approached. Tall and handsome, he’d only recently begun to slow down, the years finally starting to catch up with him.

“What did you need to see me about?”

“Not you. Everyone. I have an announcement to make, and I didn’t want to make it before you got here. Can I have everyone’s attention?” He raised his voice, the booming sound quieting the laughter and chatter. Several people stepped into the room and waited while Ian cleared his throat, looked around at his family.

Douglas’s family. Cousins. Uncles. Aunts. His brothers Ryan, Owen and Charles. His sisters Fiona and Keira. His father, frowning as he waited for Ian to continue.

“What is it, Dad?” Aiden Fitzgerald asked. Chief of the Fitzgerald Bay police department, Douglas’s father wore authority like a mantle, his shoulders straight, his carriage upright.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Thirty years is a long time to be mayor, and it’s time to step down, let someone else take my place.”

“You’re not going to run for mayor this term?” Douglas spoke over the shocked reaction of the entire Fitzgerald clan.

“I’m not. So, are we going to have cake?” Ian settled back into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d made up his mind. That much was obvious. Douglas was certain he wouldn’t change it. Not Granddad.

“Cake? Dad, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and expect us to move on,” Aiden responded.

“Bomb? I’m eighty-two, Aiden. I can’t keep going forever. I think we all know that. It’s time to slow down. To enjoy the family God gave me while I still have the time and health to do it. Seems to me, you’re about the age I was when I ran for mayor the first time. It’s your turn to run this town.”

“I’m the chief of police. I can’t be mayor, too.”

“You’ve got three sons you’re training to take your place. Might as well let one of them have a go at being chief.”

The two could debate the issue all day. Douglas had no doubt about that. He’d let them and check in later to see if his father had talked Granddad into backing down. For now, he needed to eat and get back to work.

“You two work things out. I’m going to—” Before he could finish, Douglas’s radio crackled, and Deborah Sandino’s voice carried across the line.

“Captain? We have a situation on our hands.” The hint of panic in her words made Douglas’s heart jump. Deborah had been a dispatcher with the police department for over a decade, and Douglas had never known her to be anything but calm and efficient.

“What kind of situation?” He met his father’s eyes, the sudden silence of the room making Deborah’s words echo loudly.

“A body has been found near the lighthouse.”

“Where?”

“At the base of the cliffs. The caller believes the deceased may be Olivia Henry.”

“It can’t be Olivia.” Douglas’s brother Charles spoke into the deafening silence that followed Deborah’s announcement, his face drawn with concern. Divorced and the custodial parent to his twin toddlers, he’d hired Olivia to work as their nanny several months ago. Sweet and kindhearted, she’d poured out love on her charges, and that had been enough to win the respect and affection of the family.

Now she might be dead, her body lying broken at the base of the lighthouse cliffs.

“I’ll be at the scene in ten minutes, Deborah. No one is to touch the body before I get there.” He jogged through the living room and back out into the frigid afternoon. Steel gray clouds blocked the sun and the air held a hint of snow. A winter storm blowing in. They’d need to collect evidence and retrieve the body before it arrived.

The body?

The young woman.

The human being whose life had ended abruptly.

An accident?

A suicide?

Something worse?

“Hold up, son. I’m riding with you,” Aiden called out, pulling on a thick coat as he ran to Douglas’s SUV. Face pale, his hands trembling, he looked shaken and ill.

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m the chief of police. Of course I have to.” He jumped into the SUV, and Douglas gunned the engine, sped through town, sirens blaring, lights flashing, adrenaline pumping through his blood. A quiet fishing community, Fitzgerald Bay didn’t offer much in the way of excitement for its police force. Loitering, vandalism and robbery topped the list of crimes. Every once in a while, domestic violence or assault, but bodies didn’t appear at the base of cliffs. People didn’t just die without warning and without cause.

Someone had died, though.

Maybe someone very close to his family.

Douglas’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his heart thundering in time with his racing thoughts.

“Do you think it’s Olivia?” Aiden asked, his voice shaky and weak.

“I don’t know.” Douglas glanced at his father, worried about him in a way he’d never been before. Aiden had served as chief of police for as many years as Douglas could remember. Stoic, serious and unflappable, he wasn’t the kind of guy to let anything shake him. But he was shaken. Visibly so. “Are you okay, Dad?”

“Of course I am,” Aiden muttered as Douglas flew down Main Street and out onto the rural road that led to the bluff and the lighthouse. Two police cars followed, lights flashing blue and red through the cloudy afternoon. His brothers. Douglas was sure of it. No way would Ryan or Owen stay away. No doubt, Keira was in one of the cars. Together, they’d identify the body. They’d piece together what happened.

He just hoped they wouldn’t find Olivia.

Hoped she was happily enjoying her day off.

The lighthouse loomed in the distance, growing closer with every passing mile. White and red, it stood stark and tall against the steely sky. A small, quaint cottage was a few dozen yards away from it. Once the lighthouse keeper’s home, it now belonged to Charles. He’d built a small apartment at the back of the building and had offered it to Olivia.

Maybe, she was there.

Douglas prayed she was there.

Charles’s blue Nissan, the one Olivia used to transport the twins, and a beat-up Chevy station wagon sat in the driveway. Dark green. Wood trim. Looked like it had lived a few decades too long.

Douglas knew the car, had seen it parked outside his sister Fiona’s bookstore dozens of times in the past year. He knew exactly who it belonged to. Remembered the day he’d walked into the Reading Nook and seen Meredith O’Leary for the first time. Curvy, pretty, secretive Merry.

Had she found the body?

“That’s Merry’s car,” Aiden said as Douglas got out of the SUV. Gulls screamed, their haunting cries mixing with crashing waves as Douglas made his way along the path to the cliff.

Large boulders and smaller rocks jutted from dark soil. The briny scent of the bay carried on the cold wind that blew across the bluff. All of it felt familiar and homey and right, but nothing was right about the day or Douglas’s reason for being at the lighthouse.

Up ahead, a woman stood near the edge of the cliff, strawberry blond hair whipping in the wind, shoulders hunched against the cold.

Definitely Merry.

There was no mistaking her hair, her ultra-feminine curves, or the way his stomach clenched, his senses springing to life when he saw her.

Two lunch dates. That’s all it had taken to convince him that Merry was a woman worth knowing better. He’d looked into her eyes, listened to her laughter and imagined doing the same over and over again in the weeks and years to come.

Two dates.

And, then she’d broken things off.

It’s just not working out.

That’s what she’d said, but she’d refused to look in his eyes when she’d said it, refused to tell him what part of their time together hadn’t worked for her.

Because it had all worked for him.

She stepped closer to the cliff’s unstable edge, and his heart lurched.

“Merry!” he called out, but she didn’t seem to hear over the crashing waves and screaming gulls. He ran forward and snagged her coat, yanking her away from the crumbling earth before it could give way.

She screamed, turning around, her fist aiming for his nose and coming a little too close for comfort.

“Hey, calm down!” He sidestepped another blow, grabbing her hands before she could swing again. They trembled in his grip, the fine tremors making Douglas ease his grip, smooth the skin of her knuckles.

“Douglas! Thank goodness you’re here. Olivia is…” Her voice trailed off as if she couldn’t bear to speak the words, and he had no doubt she really believed Olivia was lying at the base of the cliffs. But it was a hundred feet down to the rocks and water. A hundred feet could make identifying someone difficult.

“Stay here. I’ll take a look.”

Please, God, don’t let it be her.

The prayer whispered through his mind as he approached the cliff edge, looked below at the rocks and crashing waves.

A body sprawled facedown on slick rock. Arms and legs splayed. Blond hair soaked and trailing into foamy puddles. Even from a distance, Douglas recognized the small frame and delicate line of the neck.

Olivia.

For sure.

Dead.

For sure.

His father stepped up beside him, tensing as he looked at Olivia’s body. “It’s her.”

“Yeah. I’m afraid so.”

“We need to be the first to examine the body. If she fell, fine. If she didn’t, we need to know what happened. I’ll get the climbing gear.” Aiden hurried away, not giving Douglas time to respond.

If she fell.

The words seemed to hang in the air. The other possibilities hovering with them.

If she hadn’t fallen…

“We were supposed to meet for lunch,” Merry said, and Douglas wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him or to herself.

He turned, studying her pale, pretty face, searching her dark, hollow eyes. Haunted. That’s how she looked. How she always looked. Despite her smile, despite her easy laughter, there were always shadows in her eyes. He’d noticed them before he’d asked her to lunch, had wanted to find out what caused them, but Merry had shut him out. “Were you here looking for her?”

“Yes. She was late, and she didn’t answer her phone. I got worried and came to make sure she was okay. I thought maybe she’d overslept or her car hadn’t started. I never thought…” She shook her head.

“You went to her apartment first?”

“Yes. The door was unlocked, and I walked inside. Checked her bedroom. She wasn’t there. She loves the bluff and looking out over the bay. I thought maybe she’d come here and lost track of time, so I came to check. I don’t know what made me look down. Maybe just a feeling that things weren’t right. Do you think she fell?”

“I won’t know until I get down there. For now, I’m going to assume that’s what happened. Unless you know something that makes you think differently.”

She hesitated, her dark gaze skittering away. “I don’t.”

Lying?

Maybe. Or maybe she was still in shock, still trying to wrap her mind around Olivia’s death. He couldn’t blame her if she was. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He’d seen Olivia the previous day, pushing Charles’s twins in a double stroller, a smile on her face.

He shoved the image away.

He needed to focus on the job. There’d be time to mourn later.

He scanned the ground near the cliff, looking for signs of a struggle, some clue that would help put together a picture of what had happened. No footprints, but a few feet away, the earth seemed scuffed. Nearby, a black shoe lay near a clump of winter-brown foliage, and he crouched nearby. Woman’s sneaker with green shoelaces.

“It’s Olivia’s.” Merry crouched beside him, reached out. He snagged her hand before she could grab the sneaker, felt the tension beneath smooth skin.

“We need to leave it for the evidence team.”

“Evidence of what?” she asked, tugging her hand away and tucking it into the pocket of her coat. Her cheeks were red from cold, her breath coming out in quick puffs that hung in the icy air.

“Of whatever happened here.”

“You ready to go down, Douglas?” Douglas’s older brother, Ryan, approached, climbing gear flung over his shoulder, his face hard. Deputy chief of police, he’d earned his title through hard work and commitment to the job. Keira and Owen were right behind him, Aiden taking up the rear. Every Fitzgerald police officer was in attendance, but there was nothing they could do for Olivia. Nothing but recover her body, notify her next of kin and see that she had a proper burial.

“I’m ready.” He slid into the gear as Merry watched, her body so tense and tight he thought she might break.

“Why don’t you wait near your car, Merry? I have a few questions I’d like to ask when I’m finished here.”

“Sure.” She seemed relieved by his suggestion, happy to be allowed to leave the cliff. He watched as she ran toward the cottage, her hair flying wild behind her.

“She seems upset,” Keira said.

“She and Olivia were pretty chummy, so that’s not surprising,” Ryan responded as he helped Douglas hook into the harness. “Ready, bro?”

“Ready.”

“Take the camera down with you. The way those waves are crashing, we could lose evidence quickly.” His brother Owen, a detective with the police department, handed him a camera, and Douglas tucked it into his pocket.

“Will do.” Icy spray seeped through his uniform as he rappelled down the slick rock.

Olivia’s body lay a few feet away, water lapping at her hand and seeping over the surface of the boulder under her. He snapped photos quickly, gulls screaming overhead as he worked, his mind separating fact from emotion.

Olivia. Living, breathing, laughing Olivia.

Dead.

It was his job to chronicle the scene. Make sure nothing was missed. He couldn’t let sorrow cloud his vision or his objectivity.

Blood stained the blond hair at the back of Olivia’s skull, and he snapped a picture.

Bruised cheek.

Snap.

Arms and legs splayed.

Snap.

Bruises on one wrist that might have been finger marks.

Snap.

He frowned, studying the angle of Olivia’s head and neck. She lay facedown, but the wound was to the back of her head, the skin behind her ear broken. A deadly blow, for sure. He snapped a close-up of the wound and glanced up, trying to imagine a way that she might have fallen and slammed the back of her head into the face of the cliff. Pounding waves had carved a shallow hollow beneath the bluff, and it would have been difficult for anyone to fall into the rock wall. Didn’t mean it hadn’t happened, though.

He snapped a photo of the cliff’s edge. Snapped another of the scene, Olivia’s splayed body on dark gray rock. Nothing else but a fist-size rock that lay a foot from the remains. He crouched next to it, used his flashlight to turn the heavy stone. A few long strands of blond hair clung to it, glued on by dark clotted blood.

And he knew what he was dealing with.

Not a horrible tragic accident.

A murder.

TWO

Kindhearted, sweet Olivia. Gone.

It didn’t seem possible.

Couldn’t be true.

But no matter how much she wanted to wipe the image out of her mind, Merry couldn’t shake the picture of Olivia’s body lying lifeless as waves crashed just feet away. She rubbed her arms, but there was no easing the icy chill that had settled in her heart.

Sadness.

Anxiety.

Fear.

Heart-pounding, breath-stealing fear.

Her blood flowed cold with it, and she couldn’t shake that. No matter how hard she tried.

Police milled around the lighthouse grounds searching for clues that would help them figure out how Olivia had ended up at the base of the cliff. All Merry could do was stand still, stay quiet, pray that she didn’t call any undue attention to herself.

“Merry? Are you okay?” Keira Fitzgerald hurried toward her, black hair gleaming in the hazy sunlight. The youngest of the Fitzgerald police officers, Keira was the least intimidating of the group, but she was still an officer of the law. Not someone Merry wanted to spend more than a few minutes talking to. Better to talk to her than Douglas, though. Douglas who tempted Merry in a way no man ever had. Tempted her to say things she shouldn’t, believe in things she shouldn’t. She should never have agreed to have lunch with him once, let alone twice. But she had. She’d sat across the table from him, looked into his blue eyes and known how dangerous a game she was playing. Two shared meals, and she’d wanted to confess everything. So, she’d told him what she had to, that things weren’t working out, and she’d done her best to avoid him ever since.

“Are you okay?” Keira repeated, and she nodded.

“Fine. I just wish Olivia was, too.” Her voice broke, and she swallowed back tears.

“You and Olivia were close, weren’t you?”

“We were friends.”

“You were going to meet her for lunch?” Keira scribbled something in a small notebook, and Merry nodded.

“She had the day off, and my landlady offered to watch Tyler. We thought it would be the perfect opportunity to spend some time together without kids. Not that Olivia didn’t like being with the twins. She did, but…” She pressed her lips together, forced back the avalanche of words.

Short, simple, to the point. That’s what she needed to be when it came to dealing with the police.

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Yesterday afternoon when we confirmed our plans.”

“Did you notice anything unusual during your conversation?”

“No.”

“She didn’t seem upset? Worried? Anxious?” Keira pressed, and the words shivered along Merry’s spine. Too many questions being asked about the tragedy, and there had to be a reason.

“No. Why?”

“What time did you arrive at the lighthouse?” Keira sidestepped the question.

“Twelve-thirty.”

“Did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“What’s going on, Keira?”

“Look, we don’t want this spread around yet, but it looks like Olivia didn’t fall. The evidence suggests she was dead or unconscious before she hit the rocks.”

“She was murdered?” Merry’s heart jumped, her stomach churning.

“That’s what the evidence is pointing to.”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“That’s what we’re hoping you can help us with. Olivia arrived in town three months ago. Now she’s dead. Probably murdered. She brought some kind of trouble with her. That’s what we’re thinking. You were her closest friend in town. Maybe you know what that trouble was.”

“Like you said, she’s only been in town for a few months. It’s hard to get close to someone in such a short amount of time.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing pulse. Stick as close to the truth as possible. Give the police as much information as she could. Go home and pray that she wouldn’t be pulled any further into the investigation. That was the plan. All she had to do was stick to it, and she’d be fine. Tyler would be fine.

Please, God, let him be fine.

“Funny, Fiona has mentioned you and Olivia getting together on a fair number of occasions. You don’t consider that close?”

“I liked Olivia. She was very sweet and easy to get along with, but we hung out together because we were both new to town and we both had young children with us all the time. We didn’t share much about our lives outside of work and kids.” Not much, but they had shared some. At least, Olivia had.

More secrets.

Too many secrets.

“I see.” Keira scribbled something else into the notebook, and Merry was tempted to yank it from her hand, read what she’d written.

“I wish I could tell you more, Keira. I really do.”

“Did Olivia mention any—”

“Have they brought up her body yet?” Dr. Charles Fitzgerald interrupted as he walked toward them, his expression grim, his eyes dark with sadness. Though he’d treated Tyler for ear infections several times in the past year, Merry didn’t know him well. Olivia had spoken highly of him though. Called him a gentleman, a great father and a wonderful employer.

“Not yet. It should be soon, though. You know you’re not going to be able to examine her body, right? That’s going to have to be left to the medical examiner,” Keira responded.

“I know, but I need to be here anyway. She was the kids’ nanny. She loved them, and they loved her.”

“Was she in her apartment when you left this morning?” Keira asked, all her attention on her brother.

Good.

Maybe Merry could get in her car, drive home to her son. Hide away until everything blew over.

Only she didn’t think this was going to blow over.

There would be questions. Lots of them.

And, that could mean trouble.

Merry moved away from the siblings, their conversation swirling on cold January air and following her as she walked to the edge of the path that led to the cliff. She didn’t want to go back, didn’t want to see Olivia’s body pulled up from the rocks, but she had to.

Three months wasn’t a long time to be friends, but it had been enough time to know that Olivia was alone. A transplant from Ireland, she had a cousin in the States, but no other family close by. Someone had to stand vigil as her body was retrieved. Since Charles was being interviewed, Merry was the only one left.

She followed the path, bypassing the lighthouse and winding her way toward the cliff’s edge. Gulls screamed, their banshee cries piercing the air. She shivered, pulling her coat tight against cold wind as she ducked under the tape.

“The tape is there for a reason.” The deep baritone cut through her thoughts, pulled her back to the present and the problem at hand. Douglas Fitzgerald blocked her path, his broad, muscular chest at eye level.

She had to look up to meet his gaze.

Way up.

“Someone needs to be there when Olivia is brought up. She doesn’t have family around, so…” Her voice trailed off as he studied her face, his eyes so intensely blue that she wanted to look away. She was sure he could read her secrets, see all the things she’d spent four years keeping hidden.

That was why things hadn’t worked out.

That was why two dates had been two too many.

That was why she avoided the man like the plague.

Only she couldn’t avoid him now, couldn’t turn and run in the other direction.

“So, you thought you would be her family and keep watch over her? I wish I could let you, but this is a crime scene.” His words were gentle, his touch light as he urged her back under the tape.

“I won’t touch anything. I just want to…” What did she want to do? Pray for Olivia’s family? Make sure her friend’s remains were treated with respect?

“My family cared about Olivia, too, Merry. I promise you, we’ll make sure she’s treated with dignity.”

“Olivia has a cousin in the States. You’re going to have to call her.”

“Do you have a name or contact information?”

“Meghan, maybe? I’m not a hundred percent sure.” She wasn’t a hundred percent sure of much when it came to Olivia. A half-dozen years her junior, Olivia had been as closemouthed and protective of her past as Merry. That had seemed to suit them both fine. Maybe it was one of the main reasons they’d become friends. Neither asked many questions. Neither gave a lot of answers.

Only, now, Olivia was dead and there was no way to avoid questions or answers.

Please, God, let the questions just be about Olivia. Not about me, or my life, or Tyler.

She shivered, and Douglas rubbed her arms, the quick, brusque touch doing nothing to warm her. Her teeth chattered, and she dragged the coat tighter around her chest. She wanted to zip it, but her hands were shaking violently, and she was afraid Douglas would notice.

“You’re cold,” he said in the same gentle tone he’d used before, and she knew why every unattached woman in Fitzgerald Bay wanted to capture Douglas’s attention. Knew why the women at church whispered as he settled into the pew with the rest of the Fitzgeralds. Knew exactly why she’d agreed to go to lunch with him twice and why it was absolutely imperative that she never do such a foolish thing again. His tone, his eyes, they begged confidence, promised protection, made a woman want to trust him with all her worries and every one of her deepest darkest secrets.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re freezing.” He grabbed the hem of her coat, had it zipped before she realized what he was doing. “Why don’t you go home and warm up? I’ll stop by your place and interview you after I finish here.”

Stop by her place?

Be near Tyler?

No.

Never.

Not in a million years.

That’s what she wanted to say, but couldn’t.

“I don’t mind waiting here until you’re finished.”

“It could take hours, and the wind is picking up, the temperature is dropping. Charles’s place is off-limits until we finish dusting for prints, and you’ll either have to sit in your car or stand out in the cold. Go on home. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” He turned away, assuming that she’d go along with his plan. She wanted to. She really did. But she couldn’t risk having him so close to Tyler.

“I’ll be warm enough waiting in my car, and that will save you the effort of driving over to my place.”

“Is there some reason why you don’t want me to stop by your house?” He scanned her face, searching for the things she held close to her heart, the truths she’d never dared tell anyone.

“Of course not. I just thought that if I waited here, I’d save you some time,” she lied, because she couldn’t tell him how much the thought of having a police officer near her son terrified her.

“If you want to save me time, stop arguing about where I’m going to interview you and go home,” he said with a half smile that made her heart flutter.

Foolish heart.

Even terror couldn’t keep it from reacting when Douglas was around. She had to keep her distance. Had to keep him out of her house, out of her life, out of her heart.

Above all, she had to keep him away from Tyler.

“Interview me about what? I’ve already told you what I know.” Even she could hear the desperation in her tone, and Douglas didn’t miss it. His gaze sharpened, and he stepped close, his expression taut and hard as he cupped her shoulders and looked down into her face.

“What are you hiding, Merry?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you so nervous?”

“Because Olivia is gone. Murdered, and I don’t know why. I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt her,” she responded truthfully, hoping it would be enough to assuage Douglas.

“Someone did hurt her though, and I’m hoping you can help us figure out who that was. That’s why I need to interview you.”

“I didn’t know her very well. Not well enough to tell you anything that could help.”

“You may be surprised at what you know and how much it helps. So, how about we stop arguing about this, and you go on home?” he asked, but it wasn’t a suggestion. He expected her to comply, and she knew she didn’t have a choice.

“We weren’t arguing. We were discussing.” She walked back to her car, giving up the fight to keep him away from her house. She’d just have to keep the interview focused on Olivia, keep it away from her past, her son, her secrets.

Douglas kept pace beside her, his silence grating her nerves and making her want to speak into it, offer more explanations for her reluctance, try to convince him that she had nothing to hide.

Because she didn’t.

Not anything that had to do with Olivia, anyway.

Several officers stood outside the door that led into Olivia’s tiny apartment in the cottage. Just a few hundred square feet, it consisted of a small living room, a kitchenette, a bathroom and a bedroom. Nothing fancy, but Olivia had made it homey and comfortable. Still, Merry had only visited once, Tyler’s rambunctious and busy nature making it difficult to relax in the confined area.

Visited once, but she’d walked through the apartment less than an hour ago. Touched the door handles, fingered the teacup that sat at the small kitchen table. Left prints everywhere.

The thought sent ice racing through her blood.

“What are they doing?” She gestured to Keira and another officer. Both were bent over the apartment door handle.

“Dusting for prints,” Douglas responded as he opened the station wagon’s door.

She didn’t get in. Terror froze her in place. “But Olivia died at the cliffs.”

“We don’t know where she died. We only know where she was found.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Why would you?”

Good question. One she couldn’t answer, because she was too busy watching Keira dust the doorknob and door frame. Too busy wishing she could run over and wipe away the dusting powder, wipe off any prints she’d left. Wipe away the traces of who she’d once been.

Please, God, don’t let them find any of my fingerprints. Please.

But they would.

How could they not?

She swayed, and Douglas grabbed her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. This is all just upsetting.”

“Sit down. You’re pale as paper.” He urged her into the car, leaned in so they were eye to eye. “Are you going to be okay to drive home, or should I ask someone to take you?”

“I’ll be okay.” But her voice shook and tears she’d been denying since she’d seen Olivia lying at the base of the cliff spilled out.

“Will you?” He brushed a tear from her cheek, and she wanted to jerk away from the warmth of his palm, look away from the compassion in his eyes.

Dangerous.

So, dangerous to let him into her life.

“Of course I will be.” She wiped away more tears, shoved the key into the ignition and started the engine. She had to be okay. Tyler was depending on her.

Douglas studied her for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

He closed the door and walked away, but the feel of his palm on her cheek lingered as she drove toward home, offering her a glimpse of what might have been if she hadn’t had to push Douglas away.

Comfort.

Security.

Someone to lean on.

She wanted those things desperately, but she wanted the life she’d created more.

She had to remember that. Had to get a handle on her emotions before Douglas’s interview. If she didn’t, she might give away too much of herself.

Four years, and she’d been fine.

Four years, and she’d kept Tyler safe.

She’d do the same for another four years and another and another.

She would.

All she had to do was keep her head on straight, focus on answering Douglas’s questions about Olivia without giving away anything about herself or Tyler.

All she had to do was continue to keep her secrets.

Only hers weren’t the only secrets she carried.

She had Olivia’s secrets, too.

Keep this for me, Merry. Don’t tell anyone you have it.

The words whispered through Merry’s mind, as clear as they’d been the day Olivia had spoken them, her lilting Irish accent charming and warm. They mixed with other words, another time, another place, another accent. Thick Bostonian. The same as the one Merry had worked so hard to rid herself of.

Keep him safe. Please, promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll keep him safe. Promise me.

So many promises, so many secrets.

Too many secrets.

And, Douglas Fitzgerald coming over to her house to ask questions.

Douglas with his winning smile and caring nature.

Douglas, who had taken her to lunch, looked deep into her eyes and made her feel beautiful and special and cared for. She couldn’t stomach lying to him, but she couldn’t ever tell him the truth.

Please, God, don’t let him ask me questions I can’t answer.

But Douglas would.

He had a reputation for fairness and honesty and dogged determination, and he had a way of looking at people and into them that made Merry nervous.

He would know she had secrets.

He probably already knew.

If he thought those secrets had anything to do with Olivia’s death, he’d dig until he knew everything. Every secret. Every lie. Every bit of what Merry had kept hidden.

He’d dig until he destroyed everything she’d worked so hard to protect.

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and, this time, she didn’t bother wiping them away.

THREE

Forty years.

That’s how long it had been since someone had been murdered in Fitzgerald Bay.

Scratch that.

It had been twelve hours since someone had been murdered in Fitzgerald Bay. At least, that was the coroner’s assessment, but Douglas hoped he was wrong. His brother Charles had a foolproof alibi for the morning. He’d left his house at eight, been at their father’s place by eight-fifteen. The entire Fitzgerald clan and a few friends had seen him there.

A good alibi for the wrong time.

Which wasn’t a good alibi at all.

That worried Douglas. Not because he suspected his brother, but because other people might.

A divorced doctor with a pretty young woman living in an apartment attached to his house had given the gossip mongers plenty to talk about. Would romance bloom between the divorced doctor and the Irish nanny? Would they marry and live happily ever after?

Douglas had laughed at the whispered speculations.

He wasn’t laughing now.

As much as he loved the townspeople, he knew that they’d find plenty more to whisper about now that Olivia was gone. Had Charles murdered Olivia in a fit of rage because she’d rejected him? Had there been a lover’s spat? Had the handsome doctor killed the woman who cared for his children?

Olivia had been young and sweet and, seemingly, vulnerable. Where she’d lived, where she’d died, those things were circumstantial evidence that could make people eye Charles with suspicion.

Douglas couldn’t let that happen.

Charles had been through a lot, and it was time for him to have a little peace. Hopefully, Douglas’s visit with Merry would provide evidence, something, that would keep people from whispering and speculating. Evidence that would lead to a killer. That’s what Douglas needed, and it’s what he planned to find.

He pulled up in front of Merry’s house, eyeing the small yellow Cape Cod. White shutters. Small porch. Toys littering the front yard. Nothing unusual about that, but there’d been something in her eyes when she’d seen Keira dusting for prints. Not just grief. Fear. Stark and dark and shimmering in the depth of her chocolate brown eyes.

He opened the gate, walked into the yard. She’d cleaned things up in the year that she’d lived in the house. Cut back shrubs and trimmed the old crab apple tree. Painted the siding and trim.

Made the little house into a warm and cozy home.

But as far as Douglas knew, she never had anyone over to visit. No church socials hosted at the O’Leary place. No playgroups with mothers and kids hanging out in the little yard. Maybe she’d had Olivia over once or twice, but that seemed to be the extent of Merry’s desire to play hostess. As a matter of fact, she’d announced that things weren’t working out between them a few minutes after Douglas had suggested he pick her and Tyler up after work and take them for an evening picnic in the park.

Merry had seemed truly horrified by the idea.

Just as she’d seemed horrified by the idea of Douglas stopping by her place to conduct the interview.

Too bad.

He was about to step into her world, whether she liked it or not.

He knocked on the door. Waited. Knocked again.

The door swung open. No strawberry-haired, soft-eyed woman, though. Instead, a dark-haired, black-eyed little boy looked up at him, his deeply tanned skin flushed with excitement.

“You the police?”

“I am, but you should have asked who I was before you opened the door, pal.”

“I’m not Pal. I’m Tyler.”

“Tyler William O’Leary! What have I told you about opening the door without permission?” Merry appeared behind her son, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow, her curls pulled up in a high ponytail.

“Not to.” Tyler shifted from foot to foot, nearly bouncing with energy.

“Then why did you?”

“I saw him out the window, Mommy. He has a cool car. Just like mine. Look.” Tyler held up a toy SUV.

“It doesn’t matter what his car looks like, you shouldn’t have opened the door. Go to your room. I want you to spend some time thinking about what you’ve done.”

“I already thought about it, Mo—”

“Go.” She pointed at a steep staircase to the right of the door, and Tyler dragged his feet as he slowly walked toward it, his gaze still on Douglas.

“Quickly, young man, or you won’t get any of the cookies we made.”

He shot up the stairs after that, racing to the landing and disappearing into a room.

“He’s a cute kid,” Douglas said, more to break the sudden silence than for anything else.

“He is, but he’s a little too smart for his own good.” She brushed what looked like cocoa off her apron. Faded jeans cupped round hips and long legs, and a pink sweater hugged her curves. As always, she looked pretty and soft and very, very lovely.

She also looked scared. Worried. Nervous.

“He’s four, right?”

“Yes. Next year, he’ll be in kindergarten but for now, he just goes to preschool three days a week. Mrs. Sanderson next door has him if I’m working the other two days. He runs her ragged. He’s just so busy, and I’m worried about what will happen when he goes to school. I’m sure…” She blushed. “Sorry. You’re here to talk about Olivia. Not Tyler. I tend to talk too much when I’m nervous.”

“What is there to be nervous about?” he asked, and she hesitated, her dark gaze skittering away.

“Olivia is dead. You said she was probably murdered. Her murderer is still on the loose. Shouldn’t I be nervous?”

Maybe, but not as nervous as she looked.

“More so if you know something about why she was killed.”

“I don’t, but I’m sure you have a lot of questions to ask, anyway. I have coffee going and homemade double-chocolate cookies if you’d like some. Why don’t we go in the kitchen to talk?”

She led him into a small kitchen, and he inhaled chocolate and sugar and a subtle berry scent that he thought might be Merry’s perfume.

He tried to ignore it as he sat at a round Formica table, but the berry scent was as difficult to ignore as the person wearing it.

As impossible to ignore.

He’d been on a year-long hiatus from dating when he’d seen Merry for the first time. Tired of being set up with friends of friends of friends, tired of searching for a woman who would complete him the way his mother had completed his father, tired of the games and the stress that went with every relationship he’d been in.

Tired of it all until he’d looked into Merry’s face, seen her smile. He’d tried to ignore her, because he hadn’t wanted all those things again. The games. The stress.

But ignoring her had been impossible and one lunch together had led to another and would have led to more if she’d let it.

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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