All Is Bright (3 page)

She led her friend to the butler's pantry off the dining room. The large room held floor-to-ceiling cabinets stuffed with various serving pieces and cooking items that weren't used as frequently. This was “her” spot though, the place where she planned the meals and immersed herself in food. Something
about feeding people made her feel complete. She'd learned to make most of the dishes she still cooked today in her mother's kitchen. Today the aroma of her seafood curry wafted from the kitchen.

She'd loaded one drawer with emergency sewing supplies like pins and sticky tape, and her Pfaff sewing machine occupied a discreet corner to zip up torn tablecloth edging or napkins.

She hung the dress on a hook attached to the side of a cabinet and unzipped it. The sun shining through the large mullioned windows gleamed on the beads and sequins, and she caught her breath. “Oh, Elin, it's gorgeous.” Pearls encrusted the fitted bodice of the mermaid dress, and more pearls and sequins glittered down the skirt. “Let's try this on you.”

Elin was already shucking her jeans and sweatshirt. Delilah slipped it over her friend's head, then zipped and buttoned up the back. “Turn around, all the way around, and let me see.” She eyed the fit as Elin spun slowly around. “The bodice fits nicely, but the waist and hips need taken in a bit. It's going to take a few days because of all the beads and sequins, but we have time, and it will be gorgeous.”

Elin's worried frown eased. “Delilah, you are the best ever! Thank you so much. You're already doing so much. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Delilah shook her head. “It's under control. I've already made the mints and frozen them, and I've purchased all the decorations. The tent is reserved and so are the tables. I just have to do the flower arrangements and make the cake.”

“ ‘Just.' You make it sound so easy, when it's a boatload of work. I'm terrible at flowers and baking, so I won't be much help there.”

“Your job is to relax and not turn into a bridezilla.” Delilah unfastened the buttons and unzipped the dress, releasing Elin from it. She eased the heavy weight over Elin's head and hung the dress back on its hanger. “How is Marc holding up?”

“Like a trooper. He's ready to get it done.”

“You can't blame him. He was ready to get married a month after he proposed.”

“And we'd planned to do that, but his mother had a fit and wanted us to have a proper wedding. I didn't want to start my marriage on the outs with the in-laws, so I talked him into doing what she wanted. I think it was the right thing to do, but I'll be so glad when the hullabaloo is over. This would have been so easy if we'd just eloped to St. Croix like we wanted.”

Delilah's chest compressed when she thought about how certain Elin was of Marc's love. How wonderful it must be to know Marc would never abandon her. It was something Delilah likely would never experience. At thirty-three, the men weren't exactly breaking down her door. It would be a dream come true to have a real family and a loving husband who was always a constant companion.

Delilah zipped the dress back up. Standing at the window, she saw a familiar truck coming toward the inn. “It's the sheriff.”

Elin joined her. “He probably has more questions about
what happened yesterday. I'll get out of here and let you talk to him. I asked Marc to look into it with his FBI resources as well, and he said he would if Tom needs anything from him.”

Delilah followed her to the entry where Elin put on her coat. The doorbell rang as Delilah reached for the knob, and her pulse kicked when she looked up into the sheriff's kind brown eyes. “Hi, Tom.”

His gaze went to Elin and back again. “Hope I'm not disturbing you.”

“Not at all. Elin is just leaving. Come on in.”

Elin greeted him, then headed for her car while he brought the scent of the sea and cool air into the foyer with him. Delilah closed the door. He would want to take up where they left off last night. Where could she take him to talk? Guests were in the living room, and the staff was continuing to prepare dinner so the kitchen was out.

“You mind walking along the beach? I know it's a little nippy today, but we have a full house inside.”

He shrugged. “Born and raised on this island. A little December wind won't put my nose out of joint.”

She pulled on her coat and tugged a knit cap down over her ears before stepping out to the porch. The expansive space looked out on the coastline, and she never tired of watching the sea. What was she even going to say to Tom? She'd worked hard to keep her secrets out of island talk, but she couldn't hide any longer.

She said nothing as she led the way out toward the water. Gulls swooped and squawked overhead, and the outgoing tide
had deposited kelp and shells on the sand. The cool breeze tugged at her hat.

She stooped and picked up a rock, then flung it into the whitecaps. “I suppose you want to know why I ran off like that last night.”

“It'd be a good start. I won't judge you for anything, Delilah. Nothing you could say would shock me. This is something from your past, isn't it?”

A boulder formed in her throat, and she nodded. “I'd hoped it wasn't, but I think so.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was so young and stupid. My parents died when I was ten, and I was in one Maine foster home after another. I met Pete when I was eighteen, and all I really wanted to do was to get out from under the worst of the homes I'd been in. I knew Pete had a drug problem, but I thought I could help him.”

Her laugh was harsh and forced in her ears. “Stupid, I know. I was with him for five years before he got picked up for selling heroin. I testified against him, and he went to prison. I knew he or his cronies would want revenge, so I took off and landed here.”

“So you think he's out of prison now and trying to kill you in retaliation?”

“I don't know what else it could be.” The thought of seeing Pete again filled her with terror. He'd changed after he got hooked on heroin, and she'd felt his fist on more than one occasion.

Tom's hand came down on her forearm, and he turned her around to face him. “I'll see what I can find out about
his whereabouts. Don't you worry though, Delilah. I'll keep you safe.”

With Tom's stalwart form beside her, she felt safe and protected. She searched his gaze and nodded. “You're a good man, Tom.”

Something sparked between them, but she spun away so she wouldn't have to identify it.

T
HREE

T
OM
'
S OFFICE WAS AS FAMILIAR AS HIS FAVORITE
N
IKES
. I
T
held a battered desk and a metal filing cabinet, both overflowing with stacks of paper. He knew exactly what was in every stack and how far down. The cleaning lady was told only to sweep the floor and empty the trash. After hanging up his coat on a rack by the door, he fired up his computer and typed in the name Delilah had given him.

Pete Johnson was in prison. He'd been out for a year before being picked up again, this time for attempted murder. Tom leaned back in his old chair and stared at the screen. The possibility of parole wasn't for another ten years. Could he have hired someone to come after Delilah? It didn't seem likely, but she hadn't mentioned anyone else who held a grudge.

Though he hated to do it, he typed in her name to run a check. It felt like an invasion of her privacy, but he had to know everything if he had any chance of preventing the guy from striking again. The next time he might succeed.

While the computer did its thing, he rose and made a fresh pot of coffee. The stuff in the pot had been there since yesterday morning. As he turned he saw his cousin Alec Bourne standing in the doorway. “Hey, come on in. I was just putting coffee on.”

Still in his Coast Guard uniform, Alec stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. “Hope I'm not disturbing you.”

“Not at all. I was just seeing what I could uncover about the attack on Delilah. That why you're here?”

Alec nodded and dropped into the chair opposite Tom's desk. He was a chief petty officer who had fallen for Libby the minute she arrived on the island. “Find out anything?”

“It's not her old boyfriend.” Tom told him what he'd discovered. “Can you think of anything Delilah has said that might indicate another problem? You've been around her daily for two years now.”

Alec plucked a pencil off Tom's desk and began to flip it through his fingers like a baton. His brow creased as he thought a moment. “She is pretty private. I don't know that I've ever heard her take a call from anyone other than Hope Beach residents. I don't even know where she's from originally.”

“She was born in Maine.” Warmth expanded in his chest as he realized he knew more about Delilah than even her closest friends. “She was in a bunch of foster homes. It was a hard life from the sound of it.”

Alec raised a brow. “Careful there, cuz. I've seen the way you
look at her when you think no one is watching. You ever going to get the gumption to ask her out?”

“What makes you think she'd go?” Tom shot back. “I haven't seen her returning the looks.”

“Libby thinks you two would make a cute couple.”

Tom shook his head and huffed out a laugh. “Spoken like a newlywed.”

“Hey, I've been married two years.”

“A wealth of experience for sure.” Tom grinned to take the sting out of his words. “What did you make of the attack last night? Did she talk about it over breakfast?”

“She's trying to make out that maybe it was an accident, but you and I both know that's not true. The truck bumped into her repeatedly.”

Tom nodded. “I checked the tracks again this morning. He intended to hurt her.”

“You think it was attempted murder or maybe just to give her a good scare?”

“Some cars wouldn't have made it all the way to the water, but her car was angled just right to plunge into the surf. It's hard to know if he realized that or just wanted to frighten her half to death. Either way, I will find him.”

Tom's cell phone rang, and he saw Josh Holman's name on the screen. Josh worked with Alec and Curtis. “Hey, Josh, you looking for Alec? He's right here.”

“Nope, it's you I want. I think while I was out on a mission, my truck got stolen yesterday and was taken for a joyride. Kids
probably. When I got back in this morning, it was parked in a different spot on the lot, and the grill is all smashed up like it hit something.”

Tom straightened and grabbed a pad of paper and pen. “It's black, isn't it? A Chevy?”

“Yeah, and it's not worth that much so I can't turn it in to insurance. It doesn't even have a working airbag. I wanted you to know we've got some wild kids running around.”

“I think it might be more than that.” He told Josh about the truck used in the attack on Delilah.

Josh whistled. “I probably shouldn't get in it or anything until you have a chance to check it out. I'll have Sara come get me and I'll leave it unlocked. It's in the west side of the Coast Guard parking lot.”

“Thanks, buddy, I'll send out a forensics tech.” That would take a while to come from the state police, but at least he might get some evidence. Hair, fiber, something. He ended the call and told Alec what Josh had found.

“This guy thought of everything. He probably didn't leave any evidence,” Alec said.

“That would be just our luck.” His computer had finished the search so he leaned forward to look at the screen. “I ran a search on her to see if anything turned up.”

Alec winced. “I hate that you had to do that, but I guess it's necessary. Anything?”

Tom whistled softly. “Her parents were drowned when their car ran into a river. She witnessed the whole thing and
barely survived herself. No wonder she buried herself here and never wanted to go anywhere else.” He shut down his computer and rose. “I think I'd better talk to her again.”

Hopeful Coffee on Oyster Street was quiet this time of year, just like every other shop in Hope Beach. Once the weather turned cold, only locals braved the chilly ride over on the ferry from Hatteras. Delilah carried the two steaming mochas and a plate of bagels with cream cheese to a back table where her friend waited for her.

Vanessa took one of the cups from her. “Thanks. So you're not going to kill me for telling the sheriff?”

Delilah put the plate on the table and sat across the table from Vanessa. “He didn't give you up willingly.” She took a sip of the chocolatey concoction, then licked the whipped cream off her lips. “How are things with Gage?”

Her friend's face lit up. “Wonderful. You were so right about Keith. It wasn't until I broke it off that I realized how controlling he really was. Gage isn't like that at all. He's kind and warm, and he wants to please me. With Keith, it was his way or the highway.”