Authors: Hope White
Last night, seated at Morgan’s Dad’s kitchen table, she, Morgan, Mom and Lana had dined on an exceptional home-cooked meal of pot roast with potatoes, freshly baked biscuits, fruit and apple-crumb delight for dessert. Julie had forgotten what it was like to enjoy a home-cooked meal. Most of her dinners consisted of popping a frozen dinner into the microwave and eating in front of the television at 8:00 p.m.
It felt good to be surrounded by family, to enjoy delicious food and easy conversation. Too good.
Halfway through the meal, an ache had started low in Julie’s chest. Sadness. Regret.
Which had only worsened when she spent the night in Morgan’s room, in Morgan’s childhood bed. She had lain awake for hours, scanning his room, moonlight illuminating the rock-band posters and sport-hero figurines. Thinking the chill in the air prevented her from falling asleep, she got up and searched
Morgan’s closet. In her effort to grab a blanket off the top shelf, a shoebox fell, littering the floor with photographs, notes and dried leaves: keepsakes from Morgan and Julie’s dating days.
Guilt warred with interest as she carefully plucked the keepsakes off the floor and placed them gently back into the box. She couldn’t believe he’d kept them all these years, nor could she believe the emotions they stirred in her heart.
She’d felt such passion once, for Morgan, for God.
But now, some days, she felt, well, empty.
She got up and made the bed, reminding herself that as a counselor she had to develop skills to separate herself emotionally from the kids she counseled or she’d go nuts.
But had she separated so much of herself that she no longer felt anything? Had she hardened her heart to the point where she’d closed herself off to joy and love?
“Can’t think about that now,” she whispered.
She cracked open the bedroom door and heard her mom humming downstairs. Julie grabbed her things, showered and dressed. She applied mascara and blush, telling herself it had nothing to do with potentially seeing Morgan when she got downstairs.
What would this day bring? Hopefully nothing dangerous. Morgan assured her they weren’t followed from Seattle, and she’d dumped her cell phone, destroying the GPS chip, right after she got the threatening call yesterday. Still, it wouldn’t be that hard for someone to figure out where she’d grown up, and that she’d head back here to seek help from her family.
“Snap out of it,” she coached. It did no good to fret. Besides, Morgan was in charge of the protection detail. He’d make sure she and Mom were safe.
A sense of peace washed over her. Relying on Morgan, depending on him was starting to feel…right. Comfortable.
Not good.
She came downstairs and followed the sound of Mom’s humming, and the smell of freshly baked pastries.
“Hey, Mom,” Julie said, coming into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sweetie. I made scones. Caroline’s recipe.”
“She actually shared it with you?” Julie teased, sitting at the table.
“Of course. You know Caroline. She figured her cranberry-nut scones could solve any problem. Tea?”
“Sure.”
Mom poured a cup and placed it in front of Julie. “How did you sleep?”
“Okay, I guess.”
Mom placed her hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Worried about the case?”
“That, and other things.” Julie glanced out the back window for Morgan’s truck.
“He’s at work, moving a few things around to clear his schedule,” Mom said, reading Julie’s thoughts.
“Why is he clearing his schedule?”
“He wants to be available for you.”
Julie sighed. “I really didn’t want to put him out.”
“He doesn’t see it that way.”
“I’ll bet he does.”
“Here, have a scone.” Her mom placed a warm scone on a plate and passed it to Julie. “Doesn’t even need butter.”
“Thanks.”
The back door burst open and Lana raced into the kitchen, out of breath.
“What’s wrong?” Julie said, suddenly tense.
“Chris called in sick and Ashley doesn’t get out of school until 1:30 and I’ve got a tour scheduled to go out at ten to Sahalish Island.” Lana collapsed in a chair at the kitchen table. “I mean, I’ve run the tours alone before, but I’d prefer not to, especially because we’re serving cider and donuts. Multitasking is not my strength, as you guys know.”
“I could help,” Mom offered.
“No.” Lana waved her off. “You said you thought you were
getting a cold last night. You can’t be out in this chilly weather for two hours.”
“What about me?” Julie asked.
“I don’t think Morgan would approve,” Mom offered, sliding a scone in front of Lana.
“He doesn’t control my life, Mom.”
“You’d be great.” Lana smiled at Julie.
“You should call Morgan first and ask,” Mom warned.
“He put his number in my new phone.” Julie called Morgan and he picked up on the first ring.
“Julie? Everything okay?”
“Yep, we’re all fine, but Lana’s in a pickle. She needs me to help with the tour to Sahalish Island today.”
“No.”
“Morgan—”
“You’re safer at the house.”
“These are tourists, Morgan. I’ll be fine. And if I stay in this house twenty-four-seven, I’ll go insane.”
There was a pregnant pause and she worried that she’d offended him. “I mean, because I’m used to being out all the time, not because of the house or anything,” she clarified.
“What time is the tour?”
“Ten.”
“I’ll meet you at the dock.”
“No, you don’t have to—”
“Jules, this is not up for negotiation.”
“Okay, we’ll see you there.” Jules glanced at Lana. “He’s joining us for the tour.”
“Oh, he is, is he?” Lana winked at Mom.
“It’s nothing like that.”
Lana broke off a piece of her scone. “Uh-huh.”
It was unusually nice weather for December in Port Whisper. As the tourists boarded Lana’s boat, fondly called
Princess
and decked out in cheerful green, red and white lights for Christmas, Julie tipped her chin to take in the warmth of the
bright sun. In those few seconds, she shut out the image of her trashed apartment and locked up her fear that she’d put her family in danger by coming to Port Whisper.
Morgan will protect us.
Was it fair to expect him to? She could see it in his eyes, his surrender of resentment toward her, and she feared what it could lead to: more heartbreak.
When this was over she planned to head back to Seattle and her job, more late nights and her nonexistent social life. That was okay with her, truly, if it meant she kept one more teenager alive and showed him a future of possibilities.
Someone bumped her and her eyes popped open.
“Sorry, sorry,” a middle-aged man said, stepping onto the boat.
“It’s okay,” she responded with a smile.
She should have been paying attention anyway. How could she keep herself safe if she was spacing out?
The dozen tourists filed on board and Julie glanced across the street for Morgan. Worry set her on edge. He said he’d be here.
“Is Morgan coming?” Lana said.
“He said he was.”
“We can wait a bit.”
“I don’t want to put your business in jeopardy.”
“Another few minutes won’t hurt. I’ll start the introductions.” Lana breezed up to the front of the boat and addressed the tourists. “I’m Lana Burns and that’s my sister, Julie. Before we get started we should go over a few rules. First, everyone wears a flotation device. You can locate them under your seats.”
The tourists, ranging in age from twenty-five to seventy-five, pulled out the royal-blue flotation devices and put them on. Lana tossed Julie a flotation device and Julie hesitated before putting it on, brushing her hand across the rough nylon.
Would Suzy have survived if she’d been wearing one?
“Jules?” Morgan said, walking up behind her.
Slightly disoriented by the memory of her childhood friend, Julie said, “You’re late.”
Morgan eyed her, probably sensing something was off. Julie turned to Lana. “Morgan needs one.”
Lana tossed Morgan a flotation device and went back to her introductions. “We have a special guest with us today, our esteemed police chief, Morgan Wright.”
Morgan gave a cursory wave and the tourists looked impressed.
“Better make sure it’s tight,” Morgan said, securing the buckle on Julie’s vest.
Her gaze drifted up to meet his eyes, a warmer shade of blue than usual. It must be the sun, she thought. His eyes tended to change color in the sun. Their color had always captivated her, especially when she was young and in love. Those eyes, their love, had caused her to turn her back on her friend when she’d needed her most.
“What is it?” Morgan said, touching her jacket sleeve.
“Nothing.” She snapped her gaze to Lana, who was in the midst of explaining the day’s schedule and refreshments.
“Jules?” Morgan pressed.
“Let’s sit down.” Julie headed for a spot in the back and Morgan followed.
“Hang on, Chief,” Lana said. “I’m putting you to work today. Can you cast us off?”
“Sure thing.”
Morgan uncoiled the rope from the dock, and Lana turned to steer the boat. Headset in place, she gave a brief history of Port Whisper as she pulled away from the dock. “By the late 1800s, Port Whisper was a well-known seaport, which is why much of our original architecture is ornate Victorian.”
As she continued her lecture, Morgan made his way to the back and shifted beside Julie. It was close quarters and their legs touched; they couldn’t
not
touch. She didn’t want to pull
away and hurt his feelings. But that wasn’t the real reason she didn’t shift away from him. She felt grounded by the connection, the pressure of his solid thigh against hers.
She glanced in the opposite direction, toward Canada. This was going to be a long day.
Luckily Lana put Julie to work the minute they docked at Sahalish Island. Julie served warm cider and cookies while Lana finished up the lecture on the island itself.
Morgan, Julie noticed, stayed on the fringes, cataloging every person who passed, assessing, analyzing. Would he be like this if Julie wasn’t in trouble? She doubted it. She sensed he was usually a friendly, charismatic guy, especially with visitors to Port Whisper. She caught glimpses of that charm every now and then with this group.
“Take twenty minutes to walk around, check out the trails and views,” Lana said. “But please don’t wander past that bank of trees over there.” She pointed. “Or the boulders along the perimeter there.”
As the group broke up to take in the sights, a few women crowded Lana and Morgan with questions. Lana was really in her element, the center of attention, so outgoing and confident. And so different from the girl Julie grew up with. Lana had been the shy, awkward one living in Julie’s shadow. Then, after Dad died, she’d grown depressed. Mom and Julie had worried that she’d never come out of it, that the darkness would pull her so far down that she wouldn’t be able to see the light. Like Suzy.
Julie bagged the trash and headed for a trail along the water. She’d gone ten years without feeling the shame of letting down her friend. She thought she’d moved past it, accepted the tragedy as not her fault, but the rather sad circumstance of a teenage girl drifting into depression. Julie had encouraged Suzy to speak with their pastor, but Suzy’s mom didn’t want anyone knowing their family’s business: Suzy’s dad was a verbally abusive alcoholic, and her mom just sat by and watched.
Then, when her boyfriend broke up with her and Suzy called Julie to throw her a lifeline…Julie had been unavailable.
Suzy had taken a boat out on her own, a small boat that couldn’t handle the rocky waters caused by a wicked north wind. They’d ruled her death an accident, but in her heart Julie knew it could have been prevented, and it was partially Julie’s fault.
Hugging her midsection, she walked up the trail as a flood of emotions bubbled up in her chest. Remorse. Regret. Shame.
Sudden rustling from the surrounding trees sent shivers up her spine. Was someone watching her? No, that was impossible. She was on an uninhabited island surrounded by tourists. Nothing could happen to her here.
Still, she turned and headed back toward the boat. Squinting to see into the distance, she realized she’d been so absorbed in thought she’d wandered out of view of the group.
Motoring back to the boat, she cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, fighting back the panic crawling down her spine. A sharp snap echoed from the bordering evergreens. She picked up her pace, desperate to get back to safety. What had she been thinking wandering off so far?
She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been swallowed by the past, by the guilt she’d never released.
Guilt. Fear. Panic. The emotions clustered in her chest, making her break into a sprint. She shot another glance over her shoulder and tripped, stumbled and went down, bracing herself with her hand. She hit the ground and the air rushed from her lungs.
“Jules!” Morgan jogged up to her and helped her stand. “What happened?”
“I tripped.”
“Jules?” With a bent forefinger, he tipped her face to look into his eyes.
“I thought someone was following me. Ridiculous, right?”
“What made you think that?”
“I heard something in the trees.”
Squinting against the sun, Morgan scanned the area behind her.
“Locals do come out here to fish,” he offered.
Just then, the sound of a boat’s motor echoed from the other side of the trees.
“See?” Morgan said. “Probably just a fishing group.”
As he steadied her with a hand to her arm, he said, “Why did you run off like that?”
“I didn’t realize I’d gone so far. I was deep in thought.”
“Thinking about…?”
She took a breath and looked him straight on. “It’s my fault, Morgan. I’m responsible for Suzy’s death.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“If I’d gone to see her when she’d called, she’d be alive today. But I didn’t. I had to spend every waking moment with my boyfriend, and when she needed me most I was absent. I abandon the people I love. I did the same thing to you and Lana when I left. What kind of person am I? If only I had gone over there—”