Chapter 61
Cora slipped her shoes on. Finally they were letting her out of this hospital. She intended to make the party tonight. And Adrian would be on her arm. Cashel would be on Jane’s.
“We’re friends, so don’t get any ideas,” Jane had said to Cora earlier, after she relayed what had happened to her.
Mathilde was going to be all right, but she would not be at the retreat party. She was not in any condition to party. Detective Andrews had been in the process of strangling her when the police found them. She was barely alive.
“I’m confused,” Cora said, standing up and gathering her belongings. “Did Detective Andrews kill Marcy and Zooey?”
“No,” Adrian said. “He ordered people to do it.”
“People?”
“Hank,” he said.
“Hank? Hank killed them both?”
Adrian nodded.
“But why? I don’t understand.”
“Hank had been dealing for him for quite some time. And Marcy, well, she owed them a lot of money.”
“So they killed her? That’s awful. And stupid. They’ll never get their money now, will they?”
“No, but her husband stood to come into a lot of money. That’s what they were counting on,” he said.
“Rue’s son,” Cora said. “That’s her connection.”
“Yes, she was trying to untangle him from it,” Adrian said, and opened the hospital door. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”
“You bet,” Cora said, running her fingers through her hair, hoping she appeared presentable.
“Hey.” Adrian turned to look at her. “You’re gorgeous. You know that, right?”
She pressed herself into him. “You ain’t so bad yourself, mister.”
Their lips touched as Adrian ran his hand along her back, sending tingles through her.
When they pulled away, Adrian’s jade eyes went smoky.
“Um,” he said. “We better leave before I lose myself.” He cleared his throat and pulled her by the hand.
Well, well, well, Cora mused.
They walked along the beach toward the resort. Cora had had enough lying around for one day and needed to move. The day was bright and sunny. The waves pounded the shore. The scent of warm sand and salty water filled her as she felt something unravel, a sigh, a whisper, an exhale. It was over. The island would be safe. It might take some time for the PR nightmare to subside, but ultimately, they would all be fine—except for Marcy and Zooey.
“What about Zooey? Why did he kill her?” Cora asked.
“Because she was the only person who could identify him. She knew exactly what was happening. Zooey and Marcy had remained friends. Did drugs together. Knew all the same people. If she didn’t know exactly who did it, she would have soon,” Adrian said, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. He needed to fix them. But then again, maybe not. It was such a sweet and geeky gesture and it made Cora’s heart soar.
She loved geeks. She loved this geek.
She stopped walking.
“What?” Adrian said.
Could it be? Could she love Adrian? Could she be in love again? She never thought it would happen to her.
Was he ready to hear about her feelings? She gazed deep into those jade-green eyes of his and decided to wait.
“Never mind,” she said.
He nodded and lifted one of his eyebrows. “Okay,” he said, wrapping an arm around her as they walked along.
The resort was in eyeshot. A part of Cora did not want to return. She wanted to hang on to this moment, this feeling, alone with Adrian. But she realized she must venture forward to ready herself for the party. She promised Mathilde. Promises were meant to be kept.
Cora and Adrian stood for a moment and gazed over the beach.
“I need a shower and to prep for the party,” she said.
“Me too,” he said.
“What a retreat,” she said. “Horrible things have happened.” Her voice cracked.
“Hey,” Adrian said, his finger under her chin to lift her face. He kissed her with a gentle, sweet kiss. “Good things have happened, too.”
Her eyes met his and she smiled. He felt it, too. They were falling in love.
They would go back to Indigo Gap closer than before. She would go back to running Kildare House Craft Retreat, where she still had rooms left to be refurbished, and a possible new kitchen project ready to start so she could host a baking or food crafting class, and her cat Luna waited for her.
She missed it. She now had a place to call home. And a boyfriend she loved. Life was good.
As she thought back over everything that had happened here, and in her life, it seemed to her that it all brought her to this moment of understanding. Life was fragile. People were imperfect. Loss, hurt, and anger were a part of it. That’s why moments like this were meant to be remembered, carried along with you like a security blanket.
She swallowed her fear. She’d not ask herself where she and Adrian were heading. She’d take it one day at a time and enjoy every moment.
* * *
Cora twirled in front of the mirror. She was wearing her doily skirt—the one her first group of crafters had made for her. She remembered them fondly—the manner in which they worked together and created something beautiful, something useful for her to wear out of a pile of old doilies gathering dust in a box in someone’s attic.
She pulled her red curls into a sloppy bun, grabbed her purse, and made her way to the lobby to meet Adrian, Jane, and Ruby for the party.
“Well, look at you,” Jane said. “The doily queen. Stunning.”
“You look awesome,” Cora said. And it was true. Her best friend was a gorgeous, voluptuous woman. Long strands of dark hair and beautiful doelike eyes—a smile as wide as the sky. She was dressed all in white, which set off her darker skin and eyes.
“You handsome devil, you,” Cora said as she kissed Adrian and slipped her arm around him.
“My gorgeous girl,” he said.
“Cashel,” she said. “You’re looking dapper.”
“Yes. Now can we move this along? I don’t feel like being here, partying with these people.”
“But we got the bad guy,” Ruby said. “What is your problem?”
Cora and Jane exchanged glances of acknowledgment. They knew what his problem was. He’d have to accept it.
Cora was in love with Adrian. His hand trailed down her back as they walked toward the party.
The room was filled with chimes, lanterns, and crafters galore. A jazz quartet played in the far corner. Groups of crafters were clustered at tables. All were dressed to the hilt.
“I’ll grab drinks. What does everybody want?” Adrian asked, before he and Cashel went off to fetch drinks as the women sat down.
Katy and her friends came up to their table.
“I wanted to tell you your class was amazing,” Katy said to Cora. “I’ve already implemented some of your suggestions and, wow, the stats are skyrocketing. We should be able to start taking ads soon,” Katy said.
“I’m so glad to hear that,” Cora said, noticing Linda coming up beside her.
“How are you, Linda?”
“I’m feeling much better,” she said. “Now that I know the killer has been caught.”
“I hear ya!” Jane said.
“So am I to understand this all had to do with drugs and money and the mafia?” Katy said.
“Not the mafia,” Cora said. “But a crime syndicate financed mainly by drugs.” Cora didn’t want to think of the lives she’d seen ruined by drugs. Marcy’s and Zooey’s lives taken because they owed too much money. Mathilde attacked and lying in a hospital room.
“I don’t understand,” Linda said. “Hank made the macramé bag? He killed Zooey and shoved her body inside? Hank did the killing because he was ordered to?”
“He was afraid for his life. He was desperate,” Cora said. “Still, it’s hard to fathom, isn’t it? He made the bag, evidently trying to set up Josh, who was also left-handed.”
“Nothing more than a hired thug,” Ruby said. “Trash. The worst kind. If he knew all of this, he should have gone to the cops.”
“But he couldn’t,” Jane said. “They had too much on him.”
“And they probably would have killed him,” Katy said. “And let’s not forget there was a cop in on everything, from what you’re saying.”
“Can we please talk about something else tonight?” Adrian said as he and Cashel walked up to the table with their drinks.
Katy’s eyes moved from Adrian to Cora, and she grinned.
“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you,” Katy said. “Your class was amazing and it’s been wonderful getting to know you.” She leaned over and hugged Cora. “Oh my. He’s handsome,” she whispered into her ear.
As Katy and her crew took their leave, the five of them remained, settling in.
“Good wine,” Jane said.
“Agreed,” Cora replied.
“A toast,” Ruby said. “To us and to Mathilde, all fighting the good fight.”
“With glue guns,” Jane said with a laugh.
“Hear, hear!” Adrian said.
The only thing that would make the night more perfect would be to have Mathilde join them, but of course she couldn’t. One of the paper crafters had fashioned a huge card for her, which was too big to be passed around, so crafters were standing in line to sign it. When the line died down Cora, Jane, and Ruby decided to take their turn.
The card was artfully done on lavender card stock, embellished with paper flowers and a doily. The signatures on the inside were all done in black Sharpie. Cora signed, then Jane, then Ruby.
The women who signed the card wrote personal notes about how much this time meant to them to explore and find new friends. Not one person mentioned the murders. Cora sighed. The beach retreat was ultimately a success, despite all the horrible things that had happened.
Cora’s spirit lifted.
* * *
Jane, Ruby, and Cashel stayed at the party, while Cora and Adrian left early.
“Come to my room tonight?” Adrian said as he reached for her in the elevator. They were the only two in the space, though Cora was certain it wouldn’t matter if they weren’t.
She hesitated.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“I won’t push you,” he said. “But, you know . . . I think we have something special and the next step is—”
“Shhhh,” she said, and kissed him. She didn’t want to hear about the next step. She was uneasy. Yet, she wanted to move ahead with their relationship, too. C’mon, Cora, she thought to herself. You are no schoolgirl virgin.
He held her hand firmly as they walked down the corridor to his room and stopped in front of the door.
His arms went around her. She tilted her chin upward and gazed at those jade-green eyes.
When he kissed her this time, she felt herself ignite.
“Maybe we should stay one more night?” he said as he opened the door to his room.
Cora nodded and shut the door behind them.