All Is Bright (2 page)

Sheriff Tom Bourne sat at a table by himself in the corner of the café on Oyster Street. The spot was a local hangout smack-dab in the middle of Hope Beach's downtown. Christmas music
played in the background, and the small, homey restaurant had been decked out with strings of pine garlands and tiny lights. The festive mood did little to raise his spirits. He'd be spending Christmas alone again this year unless he accepted the usual invitation to Tidewater Inn by his cousin. Some years he went and some years he didn't.

It was depressing to think that he was thirty-seven years old and might never have a family. His job kept him hopping, and his one attempt at marriage had ended after only one year when his wife, Holly, died of meningitis. While he'd loved her, their marriage had been no grand passion that had kept him single after her death. It was more a case of simple busyness.

Across the street, a spotlight illuminated a manger scene in front of city hall, and carolers gathered on the lawn. The faint refrains from “Silent Night” mingled with the canned music in the café.

The door opened and the wind ushered in Vanessa Mitchell. Her father had owned Tidewater Inn, the spectacular bed-and-breakfast outside town. He'd left it to his daughter from a previous marriage, Libby Bourne, who was married to Tom's cousin Alec. It had caused quite the sensation around town, but the siblings had all seemed to finally work things out.

Since she was alone, he waved to her. “Want to join me?”

“I thought you might be here when you weren't at your office.” She slid into the chair opposite him and shrugged off her coat.

A striking beauty with brown hair tipped in purple, Vanessa had grown up quite a bit over the past few years. She was in her
midtwenties and had lost the petulant expression that used to drive him crazy. She ordered coffee and soup.

He regarded her over the rim of his coffee cup. “You were looking for me?”

She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought about calling, but I was afraid Delilah would hear me. She'd have heart failure if she knew I was making a fuss.”

Delilah ran Tidewater Inn and was a treasure. Tom had thought about asking her out a few times, but she was way out of his league. Long dark curls and beautiful skin caught the attention of every man in a room. For the life of him, Tom couldn't figure out why she wasn't married.

He leaned back in his chair. “So what's up?”

“She nearly drowned tonight.”

His gut clenched at the thought of Delilah at the bottom of the sea. He straightened and struggled to keep his expression from betraying him. “Is she all right?”

Vanessa's mouth was a grim line. “She would be dead if Amy and Curtis Ireland hadn't been heading home from surfing. Delilah had waved at them as she passed, and they were a few miles behind her. They saw the car lights in the water and went in after her. She was under the water and nearly gone when Curtis grabbed her.”

Tom winced at the mental picture. “What happened?”

“A truck hit her and forced her off the road.”

He frowned. “Deliberately?”

“She's trying to downplay it now and make out like it was an accident, but I can see the fear in her eyes. She thinks the
guy ran her off the road on purpose. I think you should take a look at the accident scene.”

“I should have been called to look anyway.”

“One of your deputies stopped right afterward and filled out a police report. But I'd feel better if you checked it out. Something about it really gives me the creeps.”

It did more than give him the creeps. “I'll check it out right now. I'll string up lights and look around before any evidence gets contaminated. Delilah isn't one to overreact. If she thinks the guy intended to hurt her, that's what happened.”

“I agree, but you know how she is. She never likes to worry anyone or cause trouble. She's working on Elin and Marc's wedding stuff and didn't want to waste time on anything personal.” Vanessa waited a moment as the server brought their dinner. Once they were alone again, she spread her napkin on her lap. “She's had some strange hang-ups too. Delilah has laughed it off as kids playing a prank, but I think this puts everything in a whole new light.”

“How many calls?”

“About six, I think. They started two weeks ago. If anyone but Delilah answers, the caller hangs up right away. If she answers, he stays on the line and just breathes. Sometimes she hears a song playing in the background. It's always the same one too: ‘Hey Pretty Girl' by Kip Moore.”

He knew the song, and the lyrics in this case seemed creepy. He took a big bite of his burger, chewed, then swallowed it down with a swig of coffee before standing. “I'm going out there now.”

T
WO

THE WARMTH OF THE FIRE IN THE LIVING ROOM FINALLY drove away the last of the cold lingering in Delilah's bones. This room had been recently redecorated, and the blue and white color scheme played up the high ceilings and grand fireplace of the lovely Georgian mansion they called Tidewater Inn. A gigantic Christmas tree adorned with blue and gold ornaments took up one corner of the room and caused most guests to ooh and aah.

She ran her fingers through her damp curls and smiled up at her boss and friend, Libby Bourne, who hovered anxiously. “I'm fine, Libby. Really. I think I'll go to bed early.” She lifted the fabric in her lap. “As soon as I finish Josie's costume for the Christmas play at church. She's going to be a shepherd.” Josie was Elin Summerall's five-year-old daughter, and Delilah adored her.

Libby's sun-streaked light-brown hair framed a striking face with bold brows and large brown eyes. Motherhood had
only enhanced her beauty. In her early thirties, she was as sweet inside as she was beautiful outside. Delilah adored her, too, and their quiet talks at night after little Noah was asleep and Alec was taking care of Coast Guard paperwork.

Libby picked up Delilah's empty teacup. “I wish you'd let me call the sheriff.”

The last thing Delilah wanted was to look into Tom's dark eyes and stammer out how she'd been stupid enough to almost get herself killed. She should have just pulled off the side of the road and called 911. Everything had happened so fast though. “Tom has more important things to deal with than a hysterical female.”

Libby's slight frown turned to a scowl. “You're downplaying this way too much, Delilah. What about those calls too? It might all be related.”

The thought was too terrifying to contemplate. “Those calls are just kids trying to scare me.”

“They're doing a good job of terrifying me! I well remember searching for Nicole for weeks. I shudder at the thought of something like that happening to you.” Headlights flashed through the tall windows at the front of the grand living room. “Someone's here.” Libby set the cup down on a table in the entry and opened the door. “Looks like the sheriff's truck.”

Delilah glanced down at her ratty green pajamas and bare feet. Her cheeks went hot at the thought of seeing Tom looking like this. There was no time to run and change or put on makeup. She grabbed a throw from the back of the sofa and wrapped it
around herself like a kimono as the sheriff's heavy steps came across the porch. She watched through the door into the entry and prayed he wouldn't come in.

Libby held open the door. “Come on in, Tom. You're out and about late.”

He stepped into the entry, and Delilah's pulse leaped like it always did at the sight of him.
Stupid, stupid.
Even if he was interested—which he wasn't—she liked her life right now and didn't intend to ever let a man hurt her again.

He took off his hat. “Evening, Libby. Sorry to disturb you so late, but I heard about Delilah's accident. Is she still up?”

“She's in the living room.”

Tom turned and his gaze met Delilah's. Good grief, did the man have any idea what he did to her insides? Droplets of rain gleamed in his dark hair, just starting to gray at the temples, and his strong jaw and broad shoulders made her want to run into his arms for protection. Which was probably why he'd been sheriff for ten years. He inspired trust from most of the Hope Island residents. She'd found sanctuary here about the same time he became sheriff.

Libby took his coat and hung it on the coat stand by the door, then disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Tom stepped into the living room and examined Delilah. “You're looking mighty pretty for nearly drowning tonight.”

Her laugh sounded high and forced in her ears. “Only you would say something like that to a woman in bare feet with no makeup.”

He grinned, and his white teeth flashed in his tanned face before his expression turned sober. “Tell me what happened, Delilah.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “How'd you hear about it?”

“One of my deputies was investigating. When I got there, the wrecker had just managed to pull your car onto the sand.”

“I'm surprised they were even able to pull it in.”

“Curtis went out in his wetsuit and scuba gear to attach the hook to it. The damage to the car is pretty extensive from where the truck hit you. It's going to be a total loss.”

She winced. “Vanessa told you, didn't she? She went tearing out of here shortly after I got back.”

He grinned again. “Okay, yes. She found me at the café, but I would have checked it out anyway as soon as my deputy reported in. Seeing as it was you and all.”

The gentleness in his tone took her aback, and she didn't quite know what to say to that. “I suppose you want to hear what happened. Have a seat.” She pulled her bare feet onto the sofa with her and under the throw.

He settled beside her and took out a notebook. “When did you first notice the truck behind you?”

She launched into the event, but the retelling made her shiver again as she recalled how the truck had hit her more than once. Her description of the truck and the man wasn't going to help him much. “The truck looked like any other black truck on the road. I'm not up on models. It was older and muddy like he'd had it out on the sand or in a field.”

“Any idea of his age at all?”

She shook her head. “The visor was down, so I couldn't see his face, just his jaw. Plus it went dark quickly.”

“I can check with Denny's to see if anyone brought a truck in for repairs. Hitting you had to have left some damage on his truck too.”

The phone jangled and she tensed. Caller ID read
Unknown
and she looked at Tom. “I've been getting calls too.”

“I know. Answer it.” He scooted closer.

The spicy scent of his cologne gave her the courage to grab the phone from its cradle and punch the On button. “Tidewater Inn.”

The instant the call connected, she could hear the “Hey Pretty Girl” tune playing in the background. She punched on the speakerphone function so Tom could listen as well.

“Did you run me off the road today?” Her voice wobbled just a bit, and Tom touched her hand. “What do you want?”

“You know.” The voice had some kind of electronic garble to it. “And you're going to pay.”

The music stopped, and she realized the guy had hung up. Her hand trembled as she replaced the phone on its cradle. “I have no idea what he means.”

A muscle twitched in Tom's jaw. “We're going to have to talk about your past.”

Her throat closed at the thought of opening up to anyone, especially Tom. “I think I'll go to bed right now. This has been exhausting.” She leaped to her feet and raced for the stairs.

Delilah kept a smile on her face as she checked out departing guests and welcomed new ones, but her sore muscles kept reminding her of that frightening brush with death. Libby had wanted her to have the doctor check her, but Delilah assured her she was fine. Saturdays were too busy to spend the morning at the doctor's office.

At three o'clock Elin arrived, wedding dress in hand. With her aqua eyes and long dark-red hair, she was going to be a beautiful bride. She smiled and held up the plastic-encased dress. “You sure you want to do this today? When the stalker was after me, I could barely function. Just thinking about what you went through last night makes me shudder.”

One of the “benefits” of living on Hope Island was everyone's business made it to the coconut telegraph. Delilah didn't mind though. The good folks of Hope Island cared about each other, and she'd never had that before landing here. Before her parents died, they'd lived in a big city and life was fast paced.

She smiled and held out her hand for the dress. “I'm fine, Elin, really. I can't wait to see this on you. Let's use the butler's pantry. I've got some pins in there, and I can lock the door.” The weight of the dress in her hands told her it was likely encrusted with beads and sequins. That could be challenging to take in, but Elin deserved any effort.