Mermaid Moon Page 7

  Kevin paused before the gleaming wood door. “If you like, you can get some coffee while I take care of this, or you’re welcome to come with me.” Silverware clinked to their left, and the aroma of lobster bisque wafted their way.

  Before Mallory could answer, the door opened, and a balding man in his fifties nearly barreled into him. His salt-and-pepper mustache was trimmed to military precision, and he wore a navy suit with black shoes polished to mirror perfection.

  His hazel eyes widened. “Warden O’Connor, you’re here. I’m Boyce Masters. This way.” He didn’t wait for an answer but took off at a brisk clip toward the hall leading to the back garden.

  Kevin shrugged and followed with Mallory at his side. “This might not be pleasant,” he whispered. “Stay back.”

  “Kevin O’Connor, you forget who you’re talking to. If you recall, I had a pet skunk in the tenth grade.”

  He grinned. “And if you recall, that didn’t turn out so well. Someone had a bedroom that reeked of skunk spray for weeks.”

  She smiled back with a glint in her dark eyes. “That wasn’t my fault. The dog got hold of it. You told me baby skunks couldn’t spray.”

  “I was wrong.”

  “Can I write down that confession?” The mirth in her eyes evaporated, and she gasped. “Oh, Kevin, I think it’s rabid.”

  Masters held open one of the double glass doors, and Kevin’s gaze landed on the fox trapped under a wire lobster trap. The animal lunged and bit at the wire like it thought it could bite through anything. Foam dripped from its snarling mouth, and garbled sounds he’d never heard from a fox came from the enraged animal. The mangy fur confirmed his suspicions.

  He exited the hotel behind Mallory. “Who put the trap over it? I’m surprised anyone was brave enough to get close.”

  A woman moved from the shadows. “I did.”

  Her age could have been anywhere from midforties to mid-fifties, and she exuded a calm competence with her neat gray suit and pumps. Her brown hair was swept into an updo, and her blue eyes looked back at him with a quizzical expression, as if she thought he should have known she was perfectly capable of handling anything life threw her way.

  “Good job.” Kevin unwound his backpack from his arm and unzipped it to peer at the contents.

  The animal would have to be sedated for him to move it. The way it had its teeth clamped on the wire, he could probably use a needle instead of the gun. He selected the long hypodermic needle and approached the fox as it snarled and chewed on the metal. Small paws snagged the wires, too, so he could aim for a leg. The fox didn’t seem to notice him as he knelt and prepared the injection.

  He pulled on leather gloves, then moved closer and jabbed the needle into the animal’s paw. It barely flinched, but its snarls increased for several frenzied minutes until it began to quiet down and list to one side. It finally collapsed.

  Kevin glanced at the manager. “You have a box? I have one in my boat, but I won’t bother getting it if you have one.”

  “I asked the staff for one.” The woman produced it from behind one of the benches.

  He took it and thanked her. “You weren’t frightened by the fox?”

  She shook her head. “I grew up near Canada, and foxes are pretty common. As are bears, chipmunks, eagles, and wolverines. Not much scares me. What will you do with the fox?”

  “It will be tested for rabies, but there’s no question in my mind that it’s rabid. It will be put out of its misery.” He glanced at Boyce. “Any reports of it biting anyone?”

  “Not to my knowledge. It just showed up here this morning, and Ms. Carver reported it. She had it contained by the time I got off the phone with you.” He sent an admiring glance toward the woman.

  Ms. Carver’s smile was self-deprecating. “Anyone would have done the same.” She held out her hand to Mallory. “Are you all right? You look a little faint.”

  Kevin hadn’t thought to check on Mallory, and when he turned to look, she did appear a little green as she took the woman’s hand and sank to a stone bench. She’d always had a soft spot for animals and would even take spiders out of the house to release them. He shouldn’t have said the animal would be put down, but if she knew how much torment the poor creature was in, she wouldn’t want it to suffer.

  He knelt beside her. “You okay, Mallory?”

  Was it his imagination or did Ms. Carver stiffen? He directed his attention back to Mallory. “Let me get you home for lunch. I’ll drop you off and take care of the fox.”

  “I’ll treat you all to lunch. I insist.” Boyce held open the door. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Kevin helped Mallory up. “I wouldn’t say no to that lobster bisque of yours.”

  TEN

  Silverware tinkled around Claire and her sister, Kate, as they sat at a corner booth in Hotel Tourmaline’s elegant Oyster Bistro. The big window overlooked the sparkling blue waters of Sunset Cove, and Claire admired the view as she took a quick sip of her iced tea.

  Kate’s blue eyes, so like her own, regarded her over the top of her glass. “So, what did you think of Mallory?”

  “I liked her, though we didn’t get to talk much before Kevin showed up. You can see she’s strong. And speaking of Kevin, what is up between them? You would have had to take a machete to cut through the tension between them. And that doggone Luke refused to say a word. He just said it was old history. Men!” Claire’s ring caught the light, and she paused to admire it. Engaged. It didn’t seem real. The happiness that bubbled up inside her was hard to contain.

  Kate wiped the beads of moisture from her glass. “They were going to get married, and she backed out and left town. Her mom died, and I think it just took the heart out of her. I suspect Kevin’s dad had something to do with it too. He blamed Mallory for Kevin’s decision to go into the warden service. He had his heart set on his son becoming a doctor.”

  “Kevin doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who would let himself be led around by the nose by a woman.”

  “Unlike Luke?” Kate’s teasing grin shot her way.

  “Kate Mason! I do not lead him around by the nose.” Claire couldn’t stop her smile at the thought though. Luke was crazy about her, and he didn’t care who knew it. “I called my mom to tell her. She had a million plans by the time we hung up. I think any hope of a simple wedding is toast. And she informed me she knew this was coming and bought us a house ages ago. Luke was a little put out until he found out which house it was. I guess he’s always loved the property.”

  “I knew your mom would make a fuss. You’re her only child. She’ll go all out.”

  Claire’s smile faded. “Any word from your mom or your uncle?” She still couldn’t call them hers. Not after what they’d done.

  Kate picked up her tea again and didn’t look at her. “I haven’t talked to them in a couple of weeks. It’s been too hard to see them in prison. I still love them in spite of everything.”

  A pain clenched Claire’s chest, and she reached over to take her sister’s hand. “I’m sorry, Kate. Let’s talk about something else. Like the wedding. Or the house we’re going to live in! It’s a clapboard Colonial, three thousand square feet, and in the middle of a hundred acres. It needs a lot of work, but that will just make it ours. We both love it.”

  “It was good of your mom to get it.”

  Claire pulled out her phone to show the pictures. “I’m going to hire a contractor and designer to redo it, so I thought I’d stay here at the hotel while it’s being redone. That way I’ll be close and won’t have to take the ferry over every day. You don’t mind, do you?” She’d been staying with Kate since she came back to Downeast Maine, and the two had been recapturing the lost years.

  “I knew I would lose you sooner or later. A few weeks early won’t matter.” But Kate didn’t smile in spite of her light words. She looked over the pictures of the old Colonial house. “It’s lovely, Claire. I’m so happy for you.”

  “I’ll come over for lunch with you a
t least three times a week. I promise.” She gave Kate’s hand a final squeeze, then leaned back as the server brought their fish tacos.

  A woman standing in the doorway to the restaurant caught her eye. She seemed like the kind of woman who had attracted attention from men all her life and knew it. In spite of the tiny lines around her eyes, she was stunning, dressed in a slim suit that accentuated her slim figure. Her French roll emphasized the delicate bone structure in her face.

  “Who are you looking at?” Kate twisted around to see. “Do you know her?”

  “I’ve seen her before, but I can’t place her. I feel like I should know her though.” Claire shrugged and dug into her fish taco. “It will come to me.” She squinted. “Isn’t that Mallory and Kevin with her and the hotel manager?”

  Julia could barely stop a smile from forming as Boyce directed them to a booth in the corner of the restaurant. What a stroke of luck to be involved with that rabid fox business. It was early in the season. By June, every table would be occupied during mealtimes, though she wouldn’t be here to see it. Her goals had to be accomplished way before then.

  And what luck that she’d met Mallory nearly as soon as she’d stepped foot on Folly Shoals. The young woman was prettier than she’d expected and looked nothing like her father or mother. Nearly black hair glistened in the sunlight streaming through the big bank of windows behind the table and fell to below her waist. Her brown eyes were so dark they were almost black. The contrast with her pale skin was striking.

  Mallory glanced around the room. “I’ll have to bring Haylie here. She would love it.”

  The pink granite floors continued into the dining room, and the chairs had been newly upholstered in burgundy. Smiling servers, offering beverages and taking orders, moved among the few vacationing guests eating lunch.

  Boyce motioned for the server. “Haylie’s your daughter?”

  “Yes, she’s fourteen but looks and acts eighteen, I’m sorry to say. Kids grow up way too fast.”

  Julia noticed the way the handsome game warden watched Mallory. The man was smitten, and who wouldn’t be? Petite and small-boned, beautiful Mallory was the kind of woman who had any man yearning to take care of her. Julia had been a woman like that once herself. Even now at fifty, she turned an older head or two. She wanted to tell Mallory to enjoy her power while she had it. A blink of an eye and that fresh beauty would be marred by wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, and skin that was just a little tired.

  She eyed the warden again. Mallory could do worse than the tall, broad-shouldered man beside her. His calm, competent manner was that of one who had seen a lot of hard knocks but had learned to let most things roll off his back. Julia was a good judge of character most of the time, and this one seemed like a good guy, better than most, and she’d seen plenty of the bad ones.

  But Julia had more important reasons for her joy at getting to know more about Mallory than speculating about budding romance. After they placed their orders, she leaned forward. “So, you’ve always lived on Folly Shoals? This is my first visit here.”

  Mallory smiled and nodded. “Until I was twenty. I left the island, and yesterday was my first time back in fifteen years.” Her gaze shifted to the linen-covered table, and she ran her finger around the rim of her water glass. “My father d-died, and I came at once.”

  Julia reached across the table and took her hand. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.” Her heart pounded in her ears at the effort to keep her expression pleasantly sympathetic. The man had deserved to die though. Too bad Mallory didn’t know what he’d done, how greedy he’d gotten.

  “Thank you.”

  Julia removed her hand. “I think I heard something about your father’s death. He fell and hit his head on the boat?”

  “We really shouldn’t be discussing an open case,” the game warden said.

  In her lap Julia curled her hands into fists. What was the meddling warden’s name? Kevin. That was it. Kevin O’Connor. “Of course.” She sent a brilliant smile, designed to disarm, toward him. His wary expression eased, and she turned back to Mallory. “So I expect you’ll go home after the funeral?”

  Mallory glanced sideways toward Kevin. “No, actually, I’m staying. I’m going to fulfill Dad’s mail contract until it runs out in September.” Her chin lifted as if defying anyone to argue with her intentions.

  Julia’s chest squeezed hard at the news. She’d hoped that after the rock through the window the woman would go back to her regular life and forget all about this place. She might have to escalate her efforts. “You’ll stay at your father’s?”

  “Yes. My daughter is here, too, and my best friend. I’m eager to show Haylie what a summer is like on the coast. I haven’t been lobster fishing in ages. Not since . . .” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at the warden, then looked back impassively.

  The server brought steaming bowls of lobster bisque in bread bowls, and Julia fell silent. If she was able to pull off her plans, maybe everyone would walk away. But she wasn’t hopeful.

  ELEVEN

  The small church in Folly Shoals held a lot of memories for Mallory. She slipped into the front pew with Haylie and Carol before the rest of the mourners arrived. Light filtered through the beautiful stained glass windows that arched nearly to the cathedral ceiling. The red carpet had been replaced with a more subtle blue gray, and the padded pews were new too. Her Sunday school class had been in a small room in the basement, the faint musty smell overpowered by the strong scent of crayons and fabric softener. It was where she’d first met Kevin and where he’d slipped her that first love note when she was fifteen.

  She focused her attention on the casket, which had replaced the Communion table. Masses of flowers dripped over the casket’s edge, and pictures of their family played in an endless PowerPoint display on the overhead screen. Even in podunk Maine, technology had found its way to the church. Inhaling, she prayed for strength to face the day.

  Carol touched her hand. “You okay?”

  “I’ll be all right. The worst of it is that there’s no family left.”

  “What about Aunt Blanche?”

  Mallory shook her head. “She doesn’t drive, and she hasn’t been out of the house in years. When I called to tell her, she told me she’d be praying for me. I knew then she wouldn’t be here.”

  A shaft of light pierced the dimness of the church when the double back doors were propped open, and people began to enter the church to pay their respects. She rose and smoothed the skirt of her navy suit, then went to stand by the coffin. If her father had been murdered as she thought, maybe his killer would come today.

  She accepted hugs and condolences as the townspeople flowed down the aisle and moved past the coffin. Toward the back of the church, she saw a familiar set of shoulders towering over the rest, and her spirits lifted even as her pulse blipped in her neck. She’d known Kevin would come. Then she saw the woman behind him.

  Ignoring the others ahead of her, Aunt Blanche came toward her. The shapeless black dress she wore billowed out from her lanky frame like a pirate’s sail above her startlingly red shoes. Her mostly white hair flowed onto her shoulders in a curtain. As long as Mallory could remember, her aunt had never cut her hair, and the uneven ends gave her an unkempt appearance. Her husband’s death during the Vietnam War had sent Aunt Blanche into a depression from which she’d never emerged. She kept a reclusive lifestyle, but when Mom was alive, they’d made the trek as a family to visit her once a month.

  Watching her now brought a sharp ache as Mallory realized how much she looked like Dad.

  “Mallory.” Her aunt embraced her with a waft of strong, flowery perfume emanating from the folds of her dress.

  “I didn’t think you’d come.” Mallory found it hard to talk past the constriction in her throat. She shifted her focus to Kevin as he stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets a few feet behind her aunt.

  Aunt Blanche straightened, and her hands fell back to her side. “Your game warden woul
dn’t take no for an answer. He showed up three hours ago and bullied me into getting dressed. I wanted to come, of course, but well . . .” She tossed her head so her hair fell away from her angular face.

  Mallory’s gaze met Kevin’s. “You convinced her?”

  He shrugged. “You needed someone here with you. Carol’s great, I’m sure, but at a time like this, you need family.”

  “I did. Thank you.” She looked back at her aunt. “And thank you. I felt so alone before you got here.” And Kevin had cared enough to ensure her aunt came. Why had he done it?

  Her aunt’s gaze flickered past her to the coffin. “Edmund would have approved of a closed casket. It’s so barbaric to stare at a poor dead body. That’s what convinced me, you know. Not that your game warden didn’t have a glib tongue—he did. But when he told me you had opted for a closed casket, I knew you’d grown up to be a woman of taste and wisdom. I wanted to see if I was right.”

  She stared deeply into Mallory’s eyes, and Mallory stared back. What did Aunt Blanche see? A failure who was struggling to earn enough to stay afloat? A flighty daughter who killed her own mother? She waited to see condemnation creep into her aunt’s pale-blue eyes, but instead she saw only approval and pride.

  The pride shamed her. Didn’t Aunt Blanche remember what she’d done?

  Mallory broke the intense scrutiny. “You haven’t met my daughter, Haylie.” Ignoring the slight shake of her daughter’s head when she gestured to her, she motioned for Haylie to join them.

  Haylie’s lips flattened and a frown crouched between her eyes, but she slid off the pew and approached them. Mallory put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and gave a warning squeeze. Be nice. She willed Haylie to hear her unspoken command, and the girl stiffened as if she’d caught the import of that tight grip.

  “Haylie is fourteen and is a terrific swimmer. She just made the swim team. Haylie, this is Aunt Blanche, Grandpa’s sister. She hasn’t seen you since you were five, so you probably don’t remember.”