Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (16 page)

“I'm hardly your type, Drake. I never even finished college, and you've got more degrees than a thermometer.” She rose and brushed the debris from her white shorts. “I'd better check on the kids.”

He stared after her. What had caused her smile to vanish and the frosty glaze in her eyes to appear?

T
WENTY
-F
OUR

K
ate's face felt windburned as she mounted the steps to Claire's house with Jackson. Her sister had finally moved back home two days ago after a report that Paul had been spotted in Canada. Kate felt as upside down as a broken top. She'd been rolling Drake's invitation around in her head for a couple of days, and she wasn't sure how to respond.

Luke answered the doorbell. He wore pajama bottoms with no shirt. “Kate, is everything okay?” He opened the door wide.

“I'm fine, but I just needed to talk to Claire. Is she still up?” Her face heated. They were newlyweds, so what was she doing barging in without a call at eight o'clock at night?

“She's in the kitchen making some chamomile tea. Go on in. I won't bother the two of you. Hey, Jackson, let's go throw the Frisbee.” The dog's ears went up at the word. He loved Frisbee and trotted happily outside with Luke.

That wonderful man understood. Kate kicked off her sandals and went across the polished floors in her bare feet. She caught the scent of an apple candle and the aroma of something peanut buttery. Claire stood in the kitchen with her back to the open doorway as she filled the bright-red teakettle.

“Hey, I'll take some of that.”

Claire turned with a smile. She wore the pale-blue negligee Kate had gotten her for the bridal shower, and she looked so pretty with her blonde hair spilling onto her shoulders. “This is a surprise.”

An easel beside the table held a partially finished painting of Drake's nieces. Kate paused and studied the likenesses. “This is wonderful, Claire.”

“It's for you. I'll have it done in a few days.” She eyed Kate. “Is everything okay?”

“Your husband just asked me the same thing.” She went to Claire's new white kitchen table and pulled out a red chair. “Drake asked me out. I haven't had a chance to tell you, and I was trying to figure it out myself, but I can't.”

Claire chuckled and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. “And that's the reason for your woebegone expression? That's wonderful!”

“He said he wanted a houseful of kids!” Kate put her face in her hands. “I didn't have the heart to tell him that's the main reason he wouldn't want to develop feelings for me. I can't give him that.”

“That doesn't mean he wouldn't understand. Any man who really loved you wouldn't let that stop him. Drake seems to be one of those guys who lets things roll off his back. And besides, he already has two girls to raise. That's a pretty good start on a houseful. It might be enough.”

Kate shook her head. “I think his biological clock is ticking. The phenomenon doesn't just happen to women. His brother's death shook him up.”

Claire bit her lip. “Give him a chance, Kate. Don't sell him short. It wouldn't hurt to go out with him.” She picked up the mugs of tea and went to the table.

“It might hurt a lot. I'll be honest, Claire. I'm already halfway in love with him. I've gotten to know him so well from watching the girls. He's a really great guy. Kind, smart, funny. I like being around him, but I keep reminding myself he'll soon be back in his real world, and a dalliance with someone like me isn't going to last. It's already August. They'll be heading back to Boston the end of the month.”

Claire stirred sweetener into her tea. “You don't see yourself clearly, Kate. You let your old illness define you, and it shouldn't. You have so much more to offer than bearing a child. You're beautiful and loyal, and you know a lot about so many subjects. Just like your precious puffins.”

Kate took a sip of the tea and winced when it scalded her tongue. “Can you imagine me in Boston? As a prominent business owner, I'm sure Drake goes to all kinds of social events. I've only been to my high school prom. We're hardly on the same social level.”

Claire set her tea on the table. “You could hold your own with anyone. Your mother's attitude toward you scarred you. Get it out of your head. You don't have to earn love from people, Kate. You try too hard to make people like you. It's as if you think they will only like you if you're perfect. If you say the right thing and act the right way. That's just not true.”

“I'm afraid,” Kate whispered. “He could really hurt me, Claire.”

“He could. But I'd go after him and make him pay big-time. I'd stalk him at his big society events and he'd be sorry.” She held Kate's gaze. “But if you don't risk pain, you'll never find true happiness. Remember that line in
The Princess Bride
? ‘Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.' ”

Kate grinned. “We watched that together last week.”

“I know. That's when I knew he was right for you.” She sat back and picked up her mug. “Risk it, Kate. Roll the dice. What if God brought Drake here? I mean, look at the sequence of events. He rented your house, he gave you a cushy job, and now he's asking you out. He's a good Christian man. Give him a chance.”

Could Claire be right? Kate would love to believe it. And she was also right about Kate's scars. Was she going to sit back and let her mother's treatment ruin her future as well as her past?

She took another sip of tea. “I'll say yes. But pray for me, Claire. I'm scared.”

“I always pray for you. I think God brought Drake in answer to my prayers in the first place. And if I'm right, you have to cook me your Cajun fettuccine. Gluten free, of course.”

“It's a deal.” Kate reached over and squeezed her sister's fingers. “I love you, Claire.” Thank the good Lord he'd brought her sister back into her life.

* * *

Drake put the Land Rover into Park and glanced across the seat at Kate. “I hope these questions don't upset her.”

The blue tank Kate wore enhanced the blue of her eyes, and he somehow managed to keep from gawking at her legs, impossibly long and tanned in those white shorts. He liked being around her way too much.

She opened her door, then grabbed the back door handle to open it for the girls. “I don't see why they would upset her.”

“There were no prints on the watch and nothing to tie it to your uncle. I have to wonder if kids put it in the pouch.”

He couldn't explain his reluctance to talk to Dixie about the watch. There was so much about his aunt that he didn't know, and he didn't want any old memories disrupting her mood.

Kate shut the door behind the girls, who ran toward the house calling for their aunt. Jackson ran at their heels. “They sure love her.”

“Everyone does.” He went to the back and grabbed the bags of take-out Mexican he'd stopped to get on the way. At least Dixie wouldn't have to cook lunch for them.

Dixie stood on the porch with the screen door held wide. She was dressed in her overalls, and her smile looked as unflappable as ever. “Took you long enough. I'm starving.” She sniffed the air as he approached. “Did you get fish tacos like I told you?”

“Of course. When have I ever disobeyed you?” He brushed a kiss across her powdered cheek. She reeked of her favorite Tabu cologne.

She stepped aside to let them enter. “Lemonade and coffee are on the table in the kitchen along with plates.”

“Sure thing.” He went through to the kitchen, and the rest of the group followed.

The girls chattered to Dixie while they ate, then she gave them chocolate chip cookies and milk to take out to the deck along with bread to feed the ducks. Jackson went with them.

She settled her round glasses more firmly on her nose. “So, you said there was something you needed to talk to me about. Did you find out more about Heath's death?”

“No, it's not about Heath and Melissa. You heard Paul Mason had escaped from prison?”

“Oh my, yes. Everyone is on pins and needles about it. I haven't seen him though, and town gossip says he was reported up
near Canada. Claire and Luke went home, so I'd guess that bit of news is accurate.”

Kate pulled the pouch from her purse and placed it on the table. “I found this in the blueberries near my house. Have you ever seen it?”

Dixie shook her head. “I'm not sure why you would think of me. It's a little fancy for what little jewelry I have.”

Kate opened it and dumped the items out on the scuffed wooden table. “This watch has the name Dixie engraved on the back.”

“Oh my.” Dixie reached for the watch and ran her fingers over the engraving. “This belonged to the grandmother I was named after. I thought I'd lost it. It was in the pouch?”

It had to have been stolen then. By Paul? Drake pushed the other items apart with his fingers. “Do you recognize anything else here?”

A frown settled between Dixie's hazel eyes. She picked up a ring. It was a gold high school class ring with the initials
AN
on it. “This is Amelia Nicholson's ring. She stayed with me about three months ago after a tiff with her parents. She was here a couple of weeks, and the ring came up missing. She couldn't figure out what had happened to it.”

Drake couldn't place the name, but Kate set her water glass onto the table with a clatter. “My neighbor Amelia? The one who reported a Peeping Tom at her house a few weeks ago?”

Dixie nodded. “Poor child. She's been practically afraid to leave her house ever since. I think she's going to stay with her grandmother in Portland for a while instead of moving back to the dorm.”

Drake didn't like the sound of this. He pointed to the ring.
“So that came up missing about the same time as the watch? Or do you know when you last saw the watch?”

“I showed it to her when she was here, so I know I had it at least part of her visit.” She glanced at Kate. “You think Paul broke in at some point and stole the jewelry?”

“But why? And why would he be carrying it through the blueberry fields?” Kate rose and went to refill her water glass.

Drake picked up another ring, with a small pale-blue birthstone. “This stuff is hardly worth much. Why would a thief take this kind of thing and hide it? The entire stash probably isn't worth more than a hundred bucks at a pawn shop.”

Kate turned from the sink to face him. Her blue eyes were somber. “I probably read too many suspense novels, but you know what keeps coming to mind? Trophies.”

“You mean like a serial killer?” Drake shook his head. “You're reaching, Kate. Paul has his issues, but I don't think he's a serial killer.”

Pink tinged her cheeks. “I knew it sounded silly, but we've had some issues with a Peeping Tom in the area. And there was Whitney Peece's murder. It just made me think.”

He touched a bracelet. “Any of this jewelry yours other than the earrings?”

She carried her water back to the table. “Nothing I recognize.”

He locked gazes with her and saw the vulnerability in her eyes. “It wouldn't hurt to mention it to the sheriff. Maybe he's had some reports of these items missing.”

“Thank you. I know it's far-fetched, but I thought it was worth bringing up.”

He turned the clues over in his head even as he stared at the items. He turned to Kate. “Let's go see the sheriff.”

T
WENTY
-F
IVE

D
rake and Kate found the sheriff at a table in the Oyster Bistro. Soft eighties music mingled with the tinkle of tableware
and the chatter of the servers and customers.

Colton was talking to a man Drake had never seen before. “Think we should interrupt him? He looks intent. You recognize the guy with him?”

Kate nodded and headed that way. “That's Jonas Kissner, one of his deputies. You talked to him on the phone the other day. I went to school with him.” She reached the booth. “Hey, guys. I hope you don't mind if we interrupt you.”

Colton set his coffee cup on the table. “Just having lunch. Let me scooch over. This is Deputy Kissner.”

Drake nodded to the deputy, a redheaded man in his late twenties. Kissner's pale-green eyes looked him over, and he nodded back. Drake sat beside the sheriff and Kate took the seat opposite him.

“I still haven't gotten those autopsy reports,” Drake said.

The deputy frowned and the sheriff shrugged. “Maybe I typed the e-mail wrong. Give it to me again on a piece of paper.”

Drake wrote out his email carefully on a notepad the sheriff handed him, then gave it back. “We have some information for
you.” He nodded across the table at Kate, who sat in a wash of sunlight that made her dark-blonde hair glow.

She dug in her ginormous bag and pulled out the jewelry pouch. “We have a theory about the contents in this bag.” They spilled onto the table surface when she upended the pouch. “I found it in my fields.”

Drake watched her animation as she explained to the sheriff and his deputy about three pieces of the jewelry they'd recognized. With color in her cheeks, she was pretty enough to snag the attention of every man in the place. But he didn't like the thought of anyone else ogling her long, shorts-clad legs.

Kate picked up Dixie's watch. “Over the past year the news has reported break-ins and instances of a man looking in windows. What if this is his trophy bag? He breaks into houses and steals things from women he's targeting.”

The deputy straightened and shook his head. “Old Dixie is hardly the type to warrant a Peeping Tom's attention. I think you're jumping to conclusions.”

Kate tapped the watch face. “I think the real target was Amelia Nicholson. He got Dixie's watch, too, while he was there.”

Colton pursed his lips and looked over the loot. “I hope you're wrong, Kate. A man who collects these kinds of things is the type of criminal who might move on to murder.” He looked up at her. “I'm going to take these into custody and have every woman who reported a break-in or a Peeping Tom have a look. If we find more correlation, this thing just got really serious.” He popped a mint and sighed. “Whitney Peece reported a man in her hotel room while she was showering the day before she died. I'd better have her next of kin take a look at these items and see if anything belongs to her.”

Kate hugged herself and shuddered.

“This Peeping Tom guy might have stolen something from her room that night. Many of these criminals start with peeping, then move on to rape and eventually murder.” He nodded toward the bag. “If that's what we've got here, I want to nab him before he goes any further.”

“Of course.” Kate took the water the server brought and sipped it.

Drake watched the sheriff scoop up the items and place them back in the bag. “Those are all compromised by now, right? I mean, you can't test them for DNA or fingerprints. We've all handled them before we realized how important they might be.”

Colton closed the bag. “Yeah, I'll give it a try, but it's a long shot. Any fingerprints would be smudged by now. Who all touched this?”

“Me, Drake, and Dixie. Claire too.”

“I'll need DNA samples from all of you. Stop by the lab as soon as you can.”

Was no one going to mention the obvious here? “What if it's related to Heath's and his wife's murders? Maybe this guy targeted Melissa first.” Out of the corner of his eye, Drake saw the deputy roll his eyes, but he didn't care. His brother was murdered and he would prove it. He wasn't about to tell the sheriff about Melissa's plans with Chen. It would only reinforce his opinion that Heath killed her.

Colton paused and a frown crouched between his eyes. “They were staying at the Tourmaline. We've had some reports of a Peeping Tom out there. I suppose it's possible. But you both need to let me worry about it and quit getting so excited about everything you find. Let me find the chowderhead.” He glowered
at Kate. “You know better than to interfere, Kate. It shows a lack of trust in me too.”

Drake ignored the sheriff's comment and stared across the table at Kate, who was looking down at her hands. “What all do you remember of that day?”

“Just what I told you. Finding the bodies.”

“Back up to before that. Tell me about your morning, what you saw on the way there, what you did after you parked. All of it.”

Kate's blue eyes clouded. “I don't remember a whole lot. Finding the bodies wiped out most everything else from that day. I'm sorry. That stupid chemo brain strikes again.”

Maybe a hypnotist? What could he do to help jog her memory?

The sheriff cleared his throat. “I do have one suggestion, though I think this is a wicked waste of time. I've used a forensic artist by the name of Gwen Marcey before. She's been trained in helping witnesses recall things. She's holding a seminar in Ellsworth tomorrow. Let me see if she'd have time to talk to Kate.”

It sounded like a long shot to Drake, but he was ready to try anything. Ellsworth was only twenty-five miles northwest from Summer Harbor. “Call her.”

* * *

It was a perfect afternoon for the beach and a great way to forget about the looming interview tomorrow with the forensic artist. Kate laid out a red-and-white tablecloth onto the sand and weighted it down with rocks to keep the wind from tearing it
from the shore. Jackson offered his help by plopping down on one corner. The girls squealed as cold waves hit their ankles. Sunset Cove was a great place for kids since the water deepened gradually.

She found it hard to tear her gaze away from Drake. His tanned legs were strong and muscular as he ran from the waves with the girls, and his dark thatch of curly hair glistened in the sunlight. He hadn't said much after their talk with the sheriff at lunch, and she had been glad to let the topic drop. No matter how skilled the forensic artist was, Kate was sure she wouldn't be able to remember anything important. It was just going to be more stress with no reward.

She set the basket in the middle of the tablecloth, then removed her cover-up. Though her bathing suit was a modest one-piece, she felt exposed as she went to join Drake and the girls at the water's edge. “Bunch of sissies. The water isn't
that
cold. Come on in.” She bit back a gasp as the frigid water hit her ankles, but she wasn't about to show it to the girls or she'd never coax them in the water. The gentle roller coming her way was perfect, so she held her breath and dove into it as it reached her.

The shock of being immersed in the sea took her breath away, and even when her head popped out of the water, she couldn't quite catch her air. She caught a glimpse of Phoebe's shocked face and waved. “Come on in! I'll teach you to swim.” Her wet hair obscured her vision, and she pushed it out of her face, then struck out for the rocks that rimmed this small cove.

When she was in the sea, she felt at one with it. Her feelings of powerlessness melted away in the water, and she didn't have to worry about what other people thought of her. She didn't have
to strive to measure up but could let the water strip all those fears away.

She flipped to her back and floated in the waves, facing the warm sun. It had been weeks since she'd gotten a chance to go swimming. Gulls squawked overhead and a tern glided by on the wind.

She turned her head at the sound of a splash and saw Drake dive into a wave. The girls shrieked as he spun and splashed them. She swam closer and angled her hand to the water to throw a large spray of water over his back. The surprise on his face when he whirled around made her giggle as hard as the girls.

“Come on, girls, let's get her,” he called.

The girls finally dared to run to the water and jump in. Emma brought her bucket in with her and scooped water into it. Instead of dumping it on Kate's head, she upended it onto her uncle's head.

He faced her. “Hey, you're supposed to be on my side.”

“You're bigger than Miss Kate. She needs help.” Emma leaped onto Drake's back as he crouched in the water.

His head went under, and Kate knew he was playing along with the little girl. She moved beside the girls. “Good job, Emma. You're so strong.”

Drake's head emerged from the sea. “You're all ganging up on me. No fair.” He scooped Emma up into the air, then launched her back into the water.

Her grin was wide as she hit the water and came up sputtering. “Get him, Miss Kate.”

Jackson leaped from his nap and began to bark, then ran headlong into the waves to join the fun.

Kate put her hands on Drake's shoulders and shoved, but
he didn't move. “You must be stronger than me, Emma. I can't dunk him.”

“We'll help you. Come on, Phoebe.” Both girls leaped on top of their uncle, and his head went under the waves again.

Kate grinned at the girls. “Good job.” The words were barely out of her mouth when a hand grabbed her ankle and yanked her under the water. His hand came around her waist, and a shiver raced up her spine at his touch. It took all her strength not to turn and shift closer. What was it about this man that moved her? She'd thought she was immune to attraction this overpowering. For the first time she realized how strong physical attraction could be.

She shook free of his touch and shot for the top of the waves. His head bobbed up behind her. His crooked grin told her he'd felt something in that moment too. It was pure craziness. Even if she wanted to, she'd never fit in the world where he lived. And she didn't want to try. Claire was here, and so was Kate's entire life. She didn't want to change it for anyone.

“Time for lunch.” She turned and walked through the waves toward the shore.

Shivering as the wind hit her wet skin, she reached the cloth and grabbed her cover-up. The warmth of the terry cloth enveloped her, but her shaking didn't stop. It was from being so close to Drake. Maybe she should quit this job. Nothing good was going to come from an attraction this powerful.

Drake rubbed a towel over his hair and wet skin. His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the screen, then swiped it on. “Hello, Lakesha. Yes, I've been working on the modifications.” He listened a moment. “Okay, let me give him a call. Text me his number.” He ended the call and frowned.

“Trouble?

He shook his head. “Not really. She wants me to call the assistant director and let him know how I plan to modify the drone. I'll do it when we get home. I wish this issue hadn't come up right now. It's hard to stay focused when I want to find a killer, but my business needs attention too.” He sighed. “And I want the girls to know they are a top priority for me.”

“You're juggling everything, but the girls seem to be settling in well.” She bent over the picnic basket and began to unload it away from Jackson's interested sniffs. Nothing made her as hungry as swimming. Lobster rolls, coleslaw, Jell-O squares for the kids, and fruit salad would fill the void in their bellies. She frowned when she felt something in the lining of the basket. Though she hadn't checked the pocket when she was packing the lunch, there shouldn't have been anything inside. She reached into the slit and touched cardboard.

The sunlight hit the candy box, and she dropped it and stepped back.

“What's wrong?” Drake frowned as he reached her side.

She stared at the brown box of DeBrand truffles. “Did you pack those?”

“I didn't pack anything.” He stooped and picked up the box. “These look like premium chocolates.”

“They are.” Her lips felt numb. “No one knows they are my favorite. I had them once when a tourist from Indiana stopped at our blueberry market and traded them for blueberries. They're a local Indiana brand, made in Fort Wayne. You never find them here. Someone would have had to order them.”

“You think your uncle put them there?”

She clutched herself and nodded. Hoping for reassurance,
she stared up into Drake's face. “It had to have been Uncle Paul. No one else would know.” Jackson whined and pressed against her as if sensing she was upset.

“I think we'd better have Gwen help you figure out who else you might have told.”

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