Kingdom by the Sea (Romantic Suspense) (15 page)

Vickie
lightly touched his arm.  “So, I never even got to ask you the other day at the
Squire what you do for a living.”

“I
work in sales.”

“Squire?”
Todd questioned, his voice still mild but his eyes focused, now studying his
wife.

“The
other day at lunch,” Vickie explained.

“Oh...what
day was this?  Where was I?” Todd asked.

“What
am I, your event planner?” she quipped and then rolled her eyes at Nicole, as
if they shared the joke about how stupid her husband was.

“I
didn't realize you had lunch together...I mean, I thought you said you ran into
them on the street one time.”

“No,
that's
not
what I said.”

“Well,
we didn't really have lunch,” Nicole began, trying futilely to clarify. 

“I
guess I was confused...”

“This
isn't
about
you,” Vickie said irritably.  “So anyway Michael...you're in
sales.  Selling what, pray tell?”  Tipping her chin up, she flashed a smile. 
Todd stabbed a fork into his piece of casserole.  The truth was, Nicole felt
bad for the guy.  Granted, Vickie wasn't stripping her top off at the
table—yet—but she was obviously flirting with another man while her husband sat
right there.  The whole thing was uncomfortably emasculating. 

Or
could Nicole be assuming too much?  After all, Todd was probably used to his
wife's antics by now?  Suddenly curious, Nicole asked, “So how did you two
meet?”

“We
were high school sweethearts,” Todd stated proudly.  “Sophomore geometry class
together.  Her last name was Cochran.  Mine was Finn.  And the rest was
history, right honey?”

Briefly,
Nicole and Michael exchanged confused looks.  Then Nicole said, “What's the
connection?  I mean, with your names?”

“Because
the seating was alphabetical.  She was in the first aisle, I was in the
second.  Our desks were right beside to each other.”

Vickie
rolled her eyes.  “Todd, that was a million years ago.” 

“Not
to me,” he said, looking straight at her with this intense stare, “I remember
every detail.”  His voice had dipped to a silky, more intimate one, as if he
was trying to have “a moment” right there at the table.  Vickie seemed not to
notice and blissfully drank her wine. 

Still,
Todd kept looking longingly at her.  It all seemed kind of...pathetic.

Nicole
darted a glance at Michael and instantly, his gaze found hers.  Their look held
for a few seconds.  Heat rose to her cheeks.  Casually, they broke the eye
contact, but still Nicole could feel something happening between her and
Michael and it suddenly excited her beyond belief. 

But
she couldn't rule out her competitor yet.  Nicole had to hand it to the
woman—she had wanted to do dinner, she had wanted to come to the house, and
when push came to shove, Vickie Finn had gotten her way.

It
was a windy night; leaves noisily rustled against the balcony.  Too keyed up to
sleep, Nicole called her sister.  After she filled Alyssa in on Vickie, Tinsdale,
Aunt Nina's garden, and the Preservation League, she finished with Hazel. 
“Michael says she's just bitter.  Though I'm not sure why.”

“Hmm,
sixty, single, and built like a Mac truck.  Let's put our heads together...”

“Okay,
fine.  I see your point.”

“Look,
it’s a classic case.  She’s a
spiniste
r.”

“A
what?”

“A
sinister spinster,” Alyssa explained.  “A
spinister
.”

Nicole
couldn’t help but laugh, and Alyssa sounded pleased and almost giddy when she
said, “I just made that up!—but I’m sticking to it.”

“How
could something you just made up be a ‘classic case’?  But, now that I think
about it, Hazel did have a rough break.  Ginger told me that her husband was
lost at sea.”

“Lost
at sea?” Alyssa echoed.  “There's an expression you don't hear much in real
life.  What happened?”

“I
don't know the details.  And you know what else Ginger told me?”

“I
thought Ginger was the quiet one.  When is she doing all this unburdening?”

“Just
listen.  Apparently Ginger used to baby-sit Vickie, and it turns out that she
used to be really overweight.  But it's weird, because I could swear that
Vickie referred to herself once as 'prom queen.' Or was it 'homecoming queen'? 
Either way, why would she deliberately lie about herself like that?”

Alyssa
said, “Why does everyone named Andrea suddenly pronounce their name
Andr-AY-uh?”  Ever the confounding lawyer.  “Think about it.  Besides, maybe
she didn't lie.  Maybe she was popular, but just not attractive.”

“But
isn't the prom queen usually for the best-looking girl?  And then the
best-looking guy is the king?”

“What
is this, an eighties movie?” Alyssa said.  “Now let's get to the bigger issue.”

“Which
is...?”

“Michael.”

A
smile crept over Nicole's face. 
Michael
...

“You
two seem to be getting pretty friendly.  I can tell that you like him.”

“I do
like him; we're friends.  As much as you can be friends in only a few days.”

“It's
more than that,” Alyssa argued.  “Look, he rescued you and he's all strong and
courageous and mysterious.  Face it—it's a classic case.”

“Another
one?” Nicole said with sarcasm.  Yet, at the mention of Michael, she dug her
body a little deeper into the covers and wondered about him right now.  She
wondered if he was sleeping...if he slept on his side or his stomach...if he
snored... 

“I
think you maybe should make a move on him,” Alyssa suggested. 

“You
make it sound so easy.” 

“Why
not try?  You guys seem to be hitting it off really well.”

“True,
but if he were interested, he'd make a move himself,” Nicole pointed out. 

“You're
so passive,” Alyssa said.  It seemed more of an observation than a criticism. 
“Has he ever asked you if you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Hmm. 
Maybe he has a girlfriend and that's why he hasn't made a move.  Because if he
asked you if you had a boyfriend, he'd have to answer the same question and
admit that he was dating someone already.  That could be what's holding him
back.”

The
thought dampened Nicole's excitement instantly.  Like tucking her in with a
soggy quilt.  Acting nonplussed, she played it off.  “Look, nothing is going to
happen.  He's leaving as soon as his boat's fixed.”

“It’s
taking long enough,” Alyssa commented.  “You know what I think?  I think he can
leave by now, but he
wants
to stay.  I bet his boat’s fixed already and
he just likes being with you.”  Nicole had not even thought of that, but the
general idea was appealing to consider.  Could Michael be stalling his
departure for her?

***

“Is
he screwing her?”

Danny
Keegan blew out a bewildered breath.  “How the hell should I know?  And who
cares?”  He reached across the roof of his car to grab his shirt. 

“I'm
asking what you
think
,” Vickie snapped.

She
had called him a half hour ago and told him to meet her by Oyster Pond.  Like
Vickie, she'd attacked him as soon as their bodies met.  No interest in getting
in the back seat, she'd just crushed her mouth against his, pushed his jacket
to the ground, yanked his shirt out of his jeans.  They'd ended up having sex
on the hood of his car, still half dressed.  And now—like Vickie—she was gonna
make him talk on about some topic he had no interest in.

“Hand
me one,” Vickie said now, as Danny grabbed the pack of cigarettes out of the
front pocket of his shirt.  He lit one for himself, puffed, then handed it off
to her. 

“I
think he's screwing her,” Vickie stated.  Yup, he knew it, they were gonna have
to talk on about some topic now.

“Okay. 
So what?” Danny said irritably.  When Vickie had called him earlier, she'd been
coming from dinner with those two people they had seen at the Squire.  Danny
remembered them well enough: the cute brunette and the dude with the shaved
head.  What was Vickie's obsession with whether or not they had something
going? 

“Why
would Michael ever be interested in Nicole Sheffield?” Vickie mused, curling
her lip.  “She's
so
milk and cookies.” 

Irrational
jealousy began to churn a hole in Danny's gut.  Stupid.  It wasn't like he and
Vickie were having some beautiful fucking storybook romance here.  But
still—was she bored of him already?  “She seemed fine to me,” he replied.

Instantly,
Vickie whipped her head over to glare at him.  “What does that mean?  Did you
think she was hot?”

Now
he was getting to her.  For all her bossy, oversexed ways, Vickie's
insecurities ran deep.  Evasively, he shrugged, didn't make direct eye contact,
but instead took another cigarette out for himself.  Tapped it on the hood. 
Lit it.

“
Well?
”
Vickie demanded.

As he
blew out a trail of smoke, he gave a nod and admitted, “She was cute.  Pretty
face.  If you wanted to do a three-way with her I wouldn't exactly complain.”

“Fuck
you!” Vickie snapped, as she climbed her way into a sitting position.  “You
think I'd do a three-way?  Go to hell!”  Danny tried not to laugh.  For a
thirty-nine-year-old woman, Vickie threw some great tantrums.  Of course Vickie
had never actually confided her age to him.  As a cop, he could find out almost
anything about someone; age was the least of it. 

Her
husband had to be a world-class pussy not to see how she played around on him. 
How could he not see what his wife was up to?  When Danny had teased Vickie
about her sexual appetite once, she'd said that she “had a lot of time to make
up for” but she never really explained what she meant. 

Still
sulking, she went about straightening her skirt and sliding off the hood. 
“Don't be mad,” Danny coaxed now.  Maybe he'd pushed her too far.  “I wasn't
asking for a three-way, I was just saying...”  Angrily, she slapped his hand
away as he reached to stroke her neck.  But she was never exactly cuddly. 
There was always something prickly about her despite her animated, chatty
behavior with other people in town.

“Don't
go mad...” he said.  She slapped his hand again when he touched her arm. 
“Where are you headed?” Danny asked, climbing off the hood and zipping up his
fly.  “Back to hubby?”  At the mention of Todd, Vickie rolled her eyes and blew
some red spiral curls off her forehead.  “Does he wait up for you?”

“Yeah,
right,” Vickie said, slipping into her shoes.  “He's supposed to be doing our
bills tonight.  I'm sure he'll smother me as soon as I get home.  He's so
fucking needy.”

“Yeah? 
It's bad?”

“Total
cling-on,” Vickie said in disgust.  “Sometimes...if you want to know the
truth...”

“What?”
Danny probed. 

“He
makes me physically ill,” she finished.

Quite
inappropriately, Danny barked out a laugh.  He couldn't help himself.  “Then
why the hell did you marry him?”

“Ugh,
long story.  Some things are just habit.  Anyways, he's gotten a lot worse in
the last several years.  Always gawking at me.”  It was no wonder. 
If I
were married to a slut, I'd probably keep an eye on her, too
, he thought. 
Interestingly, this was the first real glimpse into her marriage that Vickie
had ever allowed.  Overall, she never talked about Todd—but she and Danny
didn't exactly have “deep” conversations. 

“I
want you to find out more about this guy, Michael.”

“Are
we back to that?” Danny said, annoyed.  “Like what do you want to know?  What,
am I supposed to pimp for you now?”

“He's
shady, that's all I'm saying,” Vickie insisted. 

“So
what?”  Danny didn't bother keeping the boredom out of his voice.

“So I
don't trust him.  He doesn't say much about himself or his background.  Most
people
want
to talk about themselves,” she pointed out.  “I want you to
find out everything you can.”

“
Jesus
H. Christ
,” Danny muttered, shoving on his jacket.

“You're
a cop, you should be able to find out
something
.  Or are you only good
for a quick fuck, and sometimes not even that?”

Defensively,
Danny shot back, “That only happened once!”

“Whatever.”

Ultimately,
he acquiesced.  It was just easier that way.  “Okay,” Danny said.  “I'll see
what I can find.”

Monday
morning, Nicole found herself at Tinsdale engrossed in Josiah Hardy's diary. 
Except for Hazel, she was the only one there.  Or so she thought.  What she
didn’t realize was that a man had come looking for her, and was waiting below.

As
she read a diary entry from
August 20
^th
, 1877
—which had to do
with the erection of a new lighthouse—she came across a marking.  It was made
in the familiar purple pencil that her aunt had used in other places.  Where
light keeper Hardy had written, “They finished putting up the
North
Tower
,” Aunt Nina had
underlined the words
North
Tower
, and beside the line she had
scrawled:
1923
.