OH, BOY.
Wrapped in a bath towel, skin clammy from the hot after-yard-work shower, Paige leaned against the bathroom counter and stared blankly into the fogged mirror.
She’d accepted a date with Fletcher Bradley.
She took a deep breath and leaned over, her insides twisted in knots. It was dinner. That was all. And yes, maybe she could have—should have—said no. Except she hadn’t wanted to. She liked spending time with him even if doing so kept her on the edge of panic. He’d extended an olive branch by telling her the truth about Luke’s situation; how could she fight for Jasper O’Neill and not her best friend’s husband? Besides, going with Fletch to speak to Nina and Willa just made sense. All she had to do was take things a minute at a time, a word at a time and do whatever she could not to raise any suspicions about herself. Easy, right?
She straightened, gave herself a good mental shake and exhaled.
Yeah. It might have been if she hadn’t been dumb enough to kiss the deputy. All her life she’d made the mistake of jumping first and worrying later, except this leap might just have thrown her off one of those cliffs near the Flutterby Inn.
And Paige wasn’t the strongest of swimmers.
What she wouldn’t give to not have the memory of his touch emblazoned in her mind; to not feel the sweet memory of his fingers brushing over the curve of her hips or the unending longing that her life was different enough that she could explore further what that kiss could lead to.
“Yeah, dwelling on that’s definitely going to help.” She started to hum to herself, the only way to make the thoughts stop swarming, and pulled open the bathroom door. The cool air rushed over her, cleansing and invigorating. She retrieved clean jeans and a shirt from the closet in the short hall. She’d installed a second bar in the center for Charlie to use. The space was small, but she didn’t mind. Their apartment in New York hadn’t been much bigger, but at least here Charlie could have her own room. Paige had definitely added her own touches. The thrift and vintage stores in town had been a godsend, and she’d even managed to get a decent collection of cookware and dishes in the kitchen. Pictures of faraway places lay scattered on the walls, small vases with gerbera daisies—Paige loved daisies—brought fun pops of color throughout.
Home. Paige hugged her clothes against her chest and smiled. At some point in the last few weeks, Butterfly Harbor—and this apartment—had come to feel like home. As she turned back to the bathroom, her gaze skittered across the oversize duffel bag beneath the table by the door.
The familiar pang of uneasiness struck, with more force and louder than it had in a while. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she whispered to herself, willing her heart to return to its normal beat. “You’re not safe yet.”
She’d just finished drying her hair when a knock sounded on the door. She glanced at the clock as she padded barefoot to the door, knowing whom she’d find on the other side. “You’re early, Fletch.”
And that was as far as she got. Seeing him, lounging against her door frame, snug jeans and an even snugger navy T-shirt, a large pizza box in his hand and that pulse-kicking grin of his, erased any thought her brain might have held. Those shimmering green eyes of his…how did women breathe when those were pinned on them?
“Given all the hours you spend at a busy diner and then in Mrs. Hastings’s yard, I thought maybe you’d like a quiet dinner in.”
“Oh.” Her hand tightened on the doorknob. She glanced over her shoulder, wishing she was more of a slob so she could use a messy apartment as an excuse. Instead, the space seemed to glitter back at her as if mocking her attempt at avoidance. “Absolutely. Come on in.” She took a step back and tried not to notice the spicy heat of his aftershave as he walked into her home. “Kitchen’s around the corner, just there. I have some soft drinks in the fridge. I’m afraid I’m not much of a drinker so—”
“Soda’s fine.”
She watched him disappear before she remembered to close the door. When she joined him in the small galley kitchen, she found him rummaging in her cabinets for plates and cups.
“Cute place.” He grinned at her and sent her belly to flopping. “I remember Holly’s grandmother using it as a storage area a while back.”
Now who was making small talk? “Holly, Abby and Ursula were nice enough to fix it up for me and Charlie.”
“Yes, I know.” He arched a brow in her direction. “Who do you think lugged the old stuff out and did the new paint job?”
“You?” How did she not know that?
“Me and Ozzy. We got a free dinner out of it from Ursula.” His voice dropped. “And I finagled a month’s worth of mocha shakes out of Holly.” He leaned back, fingers skimming the edge of the pizza box. “Turned out pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“Thank you.”
He turned around, braced his hands on the edge of the counter and looked at her. “Does that mean more gratitude? Because I’m up for as much as you want to give me.”
Her cheeks went volcano hot. She moved toward him, took an inordinate amount of pleasure in watching him watch her as she stepped closer. Her hands came up. His hands tightened on the tile.
She ducked around him and flipped open the box. “What did you get?” The aromatic steam rose up and slapped her in the face with promises of oregano, garlic and…sausage and mushrooms. “My favorite.” She leaned over, breathed deep. “I can smell the fennel.”
“I smell roses.” He turned and locked a hand on the counter on each side of her. He dipped his head, brushed his lips feather light against the side of her neck. “Hothouse roses and summer.”
Paige closed her eyes and leaned back. Okay, maybe he could read minds. If she moved just a touch more, another inch, it was all it would take, she was certain, to have him wrap those amazing and protective arms around her.
The front door slammed open. “Mom! Hey, Mom, are you home?” Charlie’s voice exploded through the apartment and Paige jumped, turned and, in one move, pushed Fletch far from arm’s distance.
“I’m here.” She dived away from Fletch and darted into the sitting area, where her bed and makeshift sofa sat. “I thought you were having dinner at Abby’s.”
“I am. I forgot my notebook and…” Charlie’s eyes narrowed. She leaned over, way over until her backpack slipped off her shoulders. “Fletch! You’re here!”
Paige crossed her arms, brushed uneasy fingers against her throat as her daughter’s face brightened at the sight of the deputy.
“Hey, Charlie.” He caught her as she leaped at him, swinging her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. “Word around the community center is you’re getting as whip smart as Simon with the computer. You going to be up for a job with the sheriff’s department soon?”
“I already have a job with Mrs. Hastings.” Charlie played with the collar of his shirt. “I don’t think I can manage two, can I, Mom?”
“I think your mom is the wrong person to ask about how many jobs you can handle.”
The teasing glint in his eyes made Paige’s heart ache. He was so good with Charlie. Even when he thought he wasn’t.
“I like keeping busy,” was all Paige said as she walked over and retrieved her daughter. “Go get your notebook. Did Abby drive you over?”
“I rode my bike. Simon’s waiting for me downstairs.” She sniffed the air as Paige maneuvered her toward her room. “I smell pizza. Is that from Zane’s?”
“It is.”
“We’re having fried chicken,” Charlie called. A few loud bangs, some tossed items and the crash of her closet door later, she emerged, notebook in hand, before she stuffed it back in her bag. “And mashed potatoes and something Jason called kale surprise. What do you think that is, Mom?”
“I bet the surprise will be if Simon eats it,” Fletch muttered. “Hey, Charlie, it’s okay that I’m having dinner with your mom, right?”
“That depends.” Charlie tilted her head just enough so her pigtails evened out. “Is this a date?”
“No.”
“Maybe.” Fletch grinned at Paige’s emphatic response. “What? It qualifies. That okay with you, Charlie?”
“Uh-huh. Wait until I tell Simon it’s working!” She squealed and raced for the door. “Bye, Mom.”
“I’ll see you around eight!” Paige raced after her and called, but all she got in response was a dismissive wave as her daughter disappeared down the street. “Well, that’s just great. Why did you tell her that?”
“What? That we’re maybe on a date? Because maybe we are. You just don’t know it yet.”
“You can’t do this to her, Fletcher. She’s already got notions of the two of us being more than friends. I don’t want her getting her hopes up.”
Fletch rolled his eyes and returned to the kitchen, leaving Paige to follow. Again. “You sure it’s Charlie’s hopes you’re worried about? Come get your pizza before it gets cold, Paige.”
“I don’t care if it’s cold. Fletch—”
“You like cold pizza, too?” He flipped two healthy slices onto a plate and handed it over. “See? We have something in common after all.”
“Fletch—”
“If you keep saying my name like that I’m going to kiss you.”
Paige opened her mouth, reconsidered and closed it again. She glared at him.
“Huh. Kissing as a threat. Noted for future reference.” When she didn’t laugh at the joke, he sighed, and after retrieving two cans of orange soda from the refrigerator, he carried them and his plate to the table by the window. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt Charlie, Paige. Not intentionally anyway.”
For an instant, she could see the same shadows that had hovered in his eyes after what had happened at the beach.
“For the record, I’m not going to push you or Charlie into anything you’re not ready for. If pizza is as far as this goes, fine. You know me well enough by now to recognize when I’m telling the truth about something.”
“Yeah, I do.” And that’s what worried her. There weren’t a lot of people who wore honesty and integrity like a badge of honor. She’d wager she could see Fletch’s from outer space.
“Whatever issues you have, whatever is holding you back, I’m willing to work through them with you, Paige. I promise you can trust me. I like you. But then I guess you figured that, too.”
She smiled as he sat in what was normally Charlie’s chair. “I had a feeling.”
“And I’m betting, quite a bit actually, that you like me a little, too.” He circled a finger in her direction.
Her lips twitched. “Maybe.”
“Yeah, see, your kissing me the way you did kinda gave you away. But hey. I’m not greedy. Most of the time.” He pointed to her plate. “Now, let’s eat. The sooner we get over to Willa and Nina’s, the sooner we can put this whole Jasper thing behind us.”
She dropped into her chair, swallowed around the lump in her throat. “And then what?”
“Then we see what else we can find to argue about.”
* * *
“EVENING, WILLA.” FLETCH wished the sight of him didn’t put fear in the young woman’s eyes. All the more reason he wanted to make this visit as unofficial as possible. Not coming in uniform seemed to be the best way to convey his intention that he was only looking to help.
Standing on the O’Neills’ front porch, listening to the boards creek under his feet, he was ashamed to admit he hadn’t realized just how much work needed doing to their home. So many houses needed to be repaired, and while a lot of the properties were gaining interest from potential new owners or renters, those providing shelter seemed to have fallen by the wayside. “Paige and I wondered if you and your mom have a few minutes to talk.”
“About what?” Willa hugged the door against her.
“It’s about Jasper, Willa. Please.” Paige stepped forward and pulled open the screen door. “We’re both here as friends. Friends who want to help put an end to all this.”
“Willa, don’t you let our guests stand out there. That’s rude. You let them in, you hear?”
Willa’s eyes narrowed. “We’re packing for San Francisco.” Her voice was soft, as if afraid that speaking too loudly would scare any good vibes away. “Please don’t upset my mom,” Willa whispered as he stepped inside. “Not now.”
“It’s not my intention at all, I promise.” He dropped a reassuring hand on Willa’s frail shoulders. “Or you either. I know you’re all dealing with a lot. If anything, I want to help.”
Willa nodded, but he could see she didn’t trust. Not entirely. “Come on in. Would you like tea or coffee?”
“No, thanks.” Paige answered for both of them with a spring in her step and a gleam in her eye, no doubt from the two sodas she’d guzzled at dinner. He’d bet she’d be flying off the caffeine buzz for hours to come. “Nina, how are you doing? You all ready for your big trip?”
Nina’s strained smile stretched her gaunt face. “As ready as I’m going to be.” She motioned Paige and Fletch toward the overstuffed sofa and held out her hand for little Maisey, as fair-haired and blue-eyed as Willa was dark. Made sense given they had different fathers. Willa’s had died serving in the first Gulf War. Maisey and Jasper’s…well. Not all men were as honorable.
As decrepit as the house appeared on the outside, Fletch was relieved to see the inside had been well taken care of. Comfortable, cozy and warm, exactly what was needed to help Nina get through whatever treatment she needed to save her life.
“You must be Maisey.” Paige smiled at the young girl, who blinked her overly wide eyes in their direction. “You’re a bit older than my Charlie. Do you know each other?”
Maisey shook her head. “I don’t go out much.”
“We’ve been trying to convince her to go to some of the events at the community center,” Willa said, pulling Maisey onto her lap as the older sister settled into the easy chair by the fireplace. Nina, from her seat on the other end of the sofa, beamed at her daughters with as much pride and love as Fletch had seen Paige bestow on Charlie.
Powerhouse single mothers. Fletch shook his head. Was there anything stronger on this earth?
“You know Jason Corwin has been talking about starting up some children’s cooking classes at the Flutterby in a few weeks.” Paige leaned her arms on her knees. “Maybe you’d be interested in those.”
Maisey’s eyes brightened a bit. “Maybe. I’ll have to see how Mom is.”
“Doesn’t make any difference how I am, young lady.” Nina tugged the afghan tighter around her legs. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. In fact, I’m going to insist you take part.”
“Mom.” Maisey shook her head and looked far older than her ten years. “I don’t like making plans that far ahead.”
Fletch’s chest constricted as he saw Willa’s arm tighten around her little sister’s.
“Then we’ll play it by ear. Tell you what. I’d like some hot chocolate. Do you think you can fix some for me?” Willa brushed Maisey’s blond hair back from her face and kissed her cheek.
“Sure.” She stood, bent down to pull up the white kneesocks that disappeared under her long flowered skirt. “I’ll be right back, Mom.”
“Thanks, honey.”
Fletch watched Maisey vanish into the kitchen down the hall. “Quite the little adult.” He made sure to keep his voice low.
“She’s had to grow up faster than I would have liked,” Nina said. “Now, what brings you two by? Can’t be good news if you’ve decided to team up.”
“On the contrary,” Fletch said before Paige could answer. “We decided it would save time and make it easier on everyone if we worked together. The more information we have, the sooner we can get this case closed and everyone back to where they belong.”
“Exactly.” Paige shot him an uncertain look. “I actually saw one of the buildings that has been vandalized. Kyle Winters’s old house. Do you know it?”
“Certainly.” Nina nodded. “And I know Kyle, too. He’s had a rough go of things over the years, but I always thought there was more to him.”
“He’s a tough kid,” Willa agreed. “But I always liked him. Never heard a young man say thank you quite so much.”
“So Kyle and Jasper were friends?”
“Definitely. Kyle sort of looked on Jasper as a big brother. Until things changed.”
“What changed?”
“Well, Fletch knows this already, but Jasper was a pretty good kid up until his father left. That’s when the trouble started. He became very solitary. Stopped hanging out with Kyle and his buddies.”
“He was always a help around here, though,” Willa added. “I still think he’s just had a really bad string of luck.”
“You honestly don’t believe he’s responsible for the break-ins, do you, Willa?” Fletch kept his tone even and kind. Now wasn’t the time for accusations.
Willa sighed. “Like Mom told Paige the other day, I don’t want to believe it. But he’s just so angry. And I’m not even sure what he’s angry about anymore. Everything seems to set him off. But I can’t let myself believe he’d go so far off the rails he’d resort to something like this.”
“Is that why you’ve been helping him hide?” Fletch ignored Paige as her head shot up. “I know you had his prescription refilled a few days ago, Willa. Even though you’d told Paige you hadn’t seen him in over a week.”
“Willa?” Nina asked. “Is this true?”
Willa’s eyes filled. “I couldn’t let him think we didn’t care about him, Mom. Yes, I did. I’m sorry I lied about it. But I’m not sorry I did it.”
“Of course you aren’t.” Paige held out her hand across the narrow coffee table and waited for Willa to take hold. “He’s your brother. You care about him.”
“Where did you meet to give him his medication, Willa?” Fletch asked.
“Far end of Skipper Park. You know, over where they had that cooking competition this summer? On the other side of the playground.”
“So he’s all right.” Nina’s sigh of relief punctured a hole in Fletch’s determination for more answers. “Thank goodness.”
“He was as of a few days ago.” Willa sighed. “I took him some food, too. And gave him what money I could. He looked a little pale and he was limping when he left. I told him we were taking you for treatment soon. That seemed to upset him.”
“He hasn’t done well with all this,” Nina explained. “He can’t fix it, you see, and Jasper’s always been a fixer.”
“No, I understand.” Fletch nodded as he recalled an energetic boy who’d always been willing to help. “Willa, do you have any idea where he’s staying? Any friends he might call?”
“I’m sorry, no.” Willa shook her head. “I swear, I’m telling the truth this time. He made me promise not to tell anyone I’d seen him. He said he’d be in touch when he could. Almost as if…” She trailed off, bit her lip, as if uncertain whether she should share what she’d been about to.
“Willa, he needs help. You’re not going to be here, and neither is your mom. Please trust us.” Paige squeezed her hand so hard Fletch almost felt it himself.
“You’re going to be fair with him, aren’t you, Fletcher?” Willa asked him point-blank. “You aren’t just going to lock him up without evidence.”
“With Paige watching my every move? Absolutely not.” Fletch attempted some humor to lighten the mood. “But I can’t promise it’s going to be easy. Finding him is the first step. Beyond that, all I can promise is I’ll get to the truth.”
“Okay.” Willa took a long deep breath. “Okay, I wasn’t sure at the time, but when I spoke to him, it was almost as if he was on some kind of mission. Like he was investigating something. I thought maybe he knew who was behind the break-ins, but when I asked, he took it to mean I was accusing him and I wasn’t. It’s probably why he hasn’t been in touch since.”
“That’s something to consider.” If the kid didn’t think he had anyone to rely on…he could be even more difficult to locate.
“Would it be possible for us to look at Jasper’s room?” Paige asked as she pulled her hand free from Willa’s trembling one. “It’s asking a lot, but I promise we’ll be respectful.”
“If it will help.” Nina nodded, and it was then Fletch noticed she’d lost even more color in her face since they’d arrived. No wonder Paige was so protective. “Since the two of you have put yourself on this case, I’m going to state this here and now. I’m trusting you with my boy. Whatever the truth might be, I know you’ll find it. This treatment I’m going to start will likely throw me for a loop, and I need to know I can trust someone to watch over this. Keep my head in the game, so to speak.” Nina patted Paige’s hand.
“This treatment they’re giving you is very promising, Nina,” Paige said. “I’ve seen it do wonders for late-stage cancer patients. And you’re right. A positive attitude going in is absolutely your best weapon.”
Fletch didn’t know how Paige could talk about something as serious as Nina’s diagnosis with such empathy and understanding. She slipped into the conversation as easily as if he was talking about the latest fingerprint results. Speaking of fingerprints…
“I’m going to head on up to Jasper’s room. Which door is it?” He pushed to his feet.
“I’ll show you,” Maisey said as she carried a mug of hot cocoa to her sister. “Is that all right?”
“That’s more than all right, Maise. Thanks.” Willa accepted the mug with a smile and nodded her encouragement.
“After you.” Fletcher waited for her to climb the stairs, and before he followed, he looked back at Paige, who continued to surprise him with her utter and complete dedication to making anyone—and everyone—feel better.