Debra Burroughs - Paradise Valley 06 - The Harbor of Lies Page 3

  Maggie’s face lit up and she clapped her hands. “Like a big ol’ party!”

  ~*~

  The women bounced ideas off each other, and the excitement grew, at the prospect of having a destination wedding in picturesque Rock Harbor. Camille made some snacks while they sketched out plans for the trip. Without having spoken to any of the men yet, Emily was reluctant to call Susan back to tell her they would come to Maine, but it looked more and more like a real possibility.

  “I’ve got to get going,” Isabel said after the table was cleared. She hugged the girls good-bye and went to the front door.

  She opened it to leave and met Colin, climbing the few steps to the porch. “Hey, Isabel, what’s up?”

  “Oh boy, you have no idea.” She laughed a little as she passed him.

  “What do you mean by that?” he called after her.

  Isabel kept walking to her car and waved a hand in the air. “You’ll find out.”

  Chapter 3

  Colin crossed the living room and leaned down to kiss Emily, ever-so-briefly. Even so, the soft warmth of his lips lingered on hers. “How’s my girl doing?” His sultry eyes searched her face as he sat on the sofa beside her. “Feeling better?”

  She nodded and smiled. “A lot better.”

  A small crease formed between his brows. “I ran into Isabel on the porch. She sounded like she was trying to warn me that you girls were cooking something up. What’s going on?”

  With Camille’s and Maggie’s help, Emily excitedly explained Susan’s surprising proposal for their wedding. “It will almost be like eloping, which you said you’d like to do.”

  “But I thought you hated the idea of eloping. If I remember correctly—”

  “I know. I know.” Emily recalled the argument they’d had about it at the time. “But that was different. This way, we’re not running off by ourselves.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “We’ll be married in two weeks, and that means less time for anything else to get in the way of our wedding.”

  “Good point,” Maggie added.

  Colin took Emily’s hand. “We’d better think this thing through, Babe.” He lifted his eyes to the two other women standing in the room.

  Camille took Maggie by the arm. “I think that’s our cue to leave. Let these two lovebirds hash things out.”

  As they left, Camille gestured to Emily, raising her thumb and pinky to her ear and mouthing the words call me.

  Emily smiled and waved her off. Leave it to Camille to pick up on Colin’s hint to give them some privacy yet be unable to resist urging Emily to call her with the juicy details.

  Colin rested an arm on the back of the sofa. “Now, tell me again, what happened to Brian that they can’t come here?”

  Emily repeated what Susan had said, including her suspicions that there might be more to the car crash than a simple accident taking place.

  “Was she hinting we should look into it if we decide to come?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure, but if it was you,” Emily laid her head on his chest and Colin draped his arm around her, “I’d certainly want to know.”

  ~*~

  By the next day, Emily had convinced Colin they should take Susan up on her offer, using many of the points the girls had bandied about the previous day. As well, the other three women spoke to their men about the adventure and, eventually, all of them were on board.

  When Colin phoned his parents and told them about the plan, offering to pay for their flight back east, they were thrilled at the idea of being able to go to Maine at the peak of fall colors, in addition to the wedding, of course.

  Now, what Emily had dreaded—the logistical nightmare.

  Last-minute air fares were tricky. The four women would fly out on Tuesday, before the wedding, while Colin and Alex would follow on Wednesday, after tying up the separate cases they were working on. Jonathan, Camille’s husband, would have to fly in from a business meeting in Chicago, and her daughter, Molly, from college in Florida.

  As well, Peter, Maggie’s boyfriend, who also happened to be Camille’s brother, would be coming in on Friday from his television reporting job in Seattle. Then, lastly, Colin’s folks were scheduled to be traveling from San Francisco on Friday as well.

  The closest airport was in Bangor, an hour away, so arrangements would have to be made for several rental cars. If everything went like clockwork, the entire guest list would be in Rock Harbor for the rehearsal dinner on Friday night—fingers crossed.

  ~*~

  The day of the trip, Emily was up at four in the morning, scurrying around, doing last-minute packing, rushing to be ready for Alex to take the girls to the airport for a six am flight. She hadn’t slept well the night before. Her dreams, which had been filled with visions of her late husband, Evan, had unnerved her.

  He had plagued her dreams for months following his murder, but eventually their frequency had subsided. Although, around the one-year anniversary of his death, the dreams returned, haunting her for weeks. That had been more than six months ago and she thought she was finally over them, but these last few days before the trip to Rock Harbor, they were back. A few mornings, she actually would have sworn she awoke to the scent of Evan’s aftershave.

  She had moved on and was totally in love with Colin. So why these painful dreams of Evan and why now?

  Emily remembered being fresh out of college when she had given her heart to Evan. They had been happily married for five years. But even if the dreams had come back, it didn’t mean Evan could. He was dead now, and she had grieved for him. She had also solved his murder and learned the surprising truth of who he really was. But she’d come to terms with all that, using the painful realization to push herself to move on and begin a new life.

  No. Evan was her past. Colin was her future.

  As she gathered her toothbrush and makeup bag, Emily paused and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. The whites of her eyes were flush with red. Maybe she could get some sleep on the long flight to Maine. She tipped her head back and squeezed a drop of Visine into each eye.

  Emily took one last look at her wedding dress. For a moment, she saw herself wearing the lovely gown, standing with Colin and the minister beneath an ivy-covered arch on the sprawling lawn, between the inn and the bay.

  She carefully tucked the dress into the wardrobe bag and zipped it up. The wedding would be perfect. Colin was all she could ever want in a man—smart, strong, protective, kind, honest, and so handsome that he made her heart melt and set her body on fire.

  Although, she had to admit, Evan had been all of those things too—except the honest part.

  Emily threw the last of her toiletries into her carry-on bag and zipped it shut. She was done grieving over Evan. She had to let him go, once and for all. She would not let those wretched dreams ruin her wedding to Colin.

  After a quick glance around the room for anything she might have forgotten, Emily dragged her wardrobe bag, carry-on, and suitcase out to the entry to wait for her ride.

  ~*~

  Alex Martínez got his wife and the other girls to the airport in time for them to catch their early flight.

  “Guns, girls?” Alex asked as he unloaded all their luggage from his vehicle.

  All heads snapped in his direction.

  He lowered his voice. “Sorry, just wanted to make sure they’re not in your carry-ons.”

  “I’m a professional. I think I know the rules,” Isabel said softly.

  “Me too,” Emily whispered.

  “Call me when you arrive,” he told Isabel.

  She gave him a quick kiss. “I will, and don’t worry.”

  The four checked in at the ticket counter and breezed through security. Before long, the announcement was made to begin boarding. Camille and Maggie were seated together and Emily and Isabel were a couple of rows behind them.

  After getting situated and strapping their seatbelts on, Emily leaned back against the headrest and closed her heavy eyelid
s.

  “Everything okay?” Isabel asked.

  “Just tired.”

  “Didn’t sleep well?”

  “Not really.”

  “Me neither. Anxious about the trip.”

  Emily opened her eyes and turned toward Isabel, grateful there was no one sharing their row. “I had another dream about Evan. I don’t know why, but it’s a bit unnerving.”

  “It’s probably because the wedding is getting so close. Maybe deep down you feel a little guilty about remarrying—subconsciously I mean.”

  “Guilty?”

  “Not that you should, Em. But maybe, subliminally, you think you’re betraying Evan somehow.”

  “Well, someone should tell my subconscious that Evan is dead. It should move on and be happy for Colin and me.”

  “The only one who can tell it that is you, Emily.”

  ~*~

  After a long day of traveling, the girls finally reached Bangor, Maine, where they rented a car for the last leg of their journey. With Emily behind the wheel and Isabel manning the GPS, Camille and Maggie happily chatted in the back seat.

  They ventured off for picturesque Rock Harbor, perched on the edge of Mount Desert Island, the sun setting by the time they got on the road out of Bangor.

  “I’m so disappointed. It’s so dark we’re missin’ all the fall color,” Maggie said, referring to the dense foliage turning rich autumn hues of yellow, orange, and red.

  “We’ll see plenty of fall color in the next few days,” Emily assured them, recalling the times she had come to visit her sister and her family. “I’m glad you guys convinced me to have the wedding here.”

  “We’re thrilled you brought us along for the ride,” Isabel stated. “You could have done this without us.”

  “She wouldn’t dare,” Camille shot back.

  “She’s right.” Emily glanced into the rearview mirror and peeked at Camille after having heard a frown in her friend’s voice. “I would never have done this without you all.”

  Camille briefly met her gaze before Emily returned her focus to the road. “I was glad to have the two weeks before this trip to get the plans rolling on your reception.”

  “I meant to ask you how that was going.” Emily kept her eyes on her driving.

  “Oh, it’s going to be fabulous, Em.” Camille patted Emily on the shoulder and went on to explain her plans in detail for most of the rest of the hour’s drive.

  “Here we are,” Emily announced as she pulled into the dimly lit parking lot of the five-star Rock Harbor Inn and Spa. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  Chapter 4

  “Oh, Emily!” Maggie gasped, eying the expansive, three-story Victorian inn through the car window as they pulled up beside the massive french doors and the wall of small-paned windows that fronted the entrance. The lights inside the spacious lobby and front desk area cast a warm glow on the side lawn. “I had no idea it would be so fabulous.”

  The doorman, dressed in a sharp, dark green uniform, opened the driver’s door and Emily swiveled out. “Welcome to the Rock Harbor Inn, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.” Emily smiled, briefly making eye contact before her gaze was drawn away to the beauty of the inn.

  The rest of the women exited the vehicle as the man grabbed a wheeled brass luggage cart.

  “May I bring your bags in for you?”

  Emily popped the trunk with the car’s key fob. “That would be appreciated.”

  Camille stopped and drew in a deep breath. “Can you smell that wonderful salt air?”

  The doorman loaded the luggage as the girls chattered and giggled through the main door and meandered to the front desk, admiring the hotel’s lavish interior.

  The lobby was like the parlor of a southern plantation mansion, with its high ceilings and ornate support columns. An array of overstuffed chairs and comfortable, skirted sofas were strategically arranged around the large room, set up for easy conversation.

  In the center of the far wall, a crackling fire filled the grand fireplace, which was outlined with a massive, white wood mantle, and flanked with tall windows, dressed with floor-to-ceiling floral draperies.

  Emily’s cellphone dinged and she dug it out of her purse.

  “Will your sister be coming to the hotel this evening, Emily?” Isabel asked.

  “No. Susan just sent me a text that she’ll meet us in the morning for breakfast. The kids need her at home tonight.”

  “Let’s get checked in, girls,” Maggie piped up, “and go find somewhere to eat. I’m starvin’.”

  “Sounds good. I’m dying to have lots of lobster while we’re here in Rock Harbor,” Camille said. “Fresh out of the bay, right?”

  “Only they don’t say lobster around here, Camille,” Emily kidded. “They say lobstah from Rock Haabah.”

  Maggie giggled. “As long as it’s delish, I don’t care what they call it.”

  The girls crowded around the check-in desk, giving their personal information to the young lady behind the counter and retrieving their room keys.

  “The spa is close by?” Maggie asked.

  “Eyah, to the left of the pahkin’ lot,” the clerk replied.

  “I’m sorry?” Maggie frowned, not seeming to understand what the woman was trying to say through her thick New England accent.

  “Eyah?” Camille asked.

  “Sorry, miss.” Emily stepped up to the counter and turned to Camille. “Eyah is how they would say yeah. And the pahkin’ lot is the parking lot. People who are from around here don’t often say their Rs.”

  Camille’s deep, blue eyes flicked to the clerk. “Why is it you don’t say your Rs?”

  “It sounds so awful, like a pirate or something. Arrr.” The clerk tried to get her mouth around the consonant. “See…awful.”

  Maggie and Camille chuckled at her attempt.

  ~*~

  After getting a dining recommendation from the desk clerk, the four women checked into their rooms, then went out for a short walk through the quaint little town, headed for a restaurant called McFay’s Public House.

  The narrow sidewalks on Main Street, adorned with old-fashioned streetlamps, were quite crowded on that evening. Men, women, and children were bundled in coats and scarves, popping in and out of the various eateries and shops, enjoying them before the end of the season arrived. There was a crisp chill coming off the bay, mingling in the air with the salty scent of the sea, warning that winter was on its way.

  The girls reached the restaurant and were shown to their table, the savory smells of roasted beef and boiled lobster wafting through the air. Pure-white linen covered the tabletops, and waiters in crisp, white shirts and black slacks carried circular trays overhead, stacked with delicious meals.

  Once seated, the hostess handed them each a tall, folded menu and told them their server would be right with them.

  In time, a handsome young man approached, his black hair parted and slicked back. “My name is Brett. I’ll be serving you this evening. What can I get for you ladies?”

  The girls placed their orders, handed him their menus, and he disappeared.

  “Was it hard getting away this week?” Emily asked Maggie, who ran her own fitness center.

  “No, just rescheduled appointments. I think Camille had a tougher time.”

  “Camille,” Emily said, “what happened?”

  Camille had started Bon Appetit!, a catering and event/wedding planning company, over six years ago. That was where the four of them had originally met and where they became close friends. Camille had offered cooking classes to get her business off the ground and the other three had shown up, badly in need of improving their cooking skills.

  “I had to give up a company party I was catering.”

  “I’m sorry.” Emily patted Camille’s hand.

  “Don’t worry about it. I had another caterer fill in, and now he owes me.” Camille smiled smugly. “What about you, Isabel?”

  Years ago Isabel had worked at the CIA in Was
hington, DC and had relocated to Paradise Valley to take a job at the Boise office of the FBI. As the four women became great friends, Isabel, eventually with Emily’s assistance, taught self-defense classes at Maggie’s studio so they would all know how to defend themselves. With Emily taking over Evan’s PI practice, those classes had turned out to be a lifesaver more than once.

  “Fortunately, I wrapped up a big case last week and managed to dodge any new cases. I don’t think my boss caught on—at least, I’m praying he didn’t.” Isabel chuckled.

  After relishing their various lobster dishes and crab cakes, and exhausting conversation about the wedding and the men in their lives, the girls meandered out of the restaurant, stopping briefly to decide where to go next.

  Emily glanced up the street toward the various shops. She startled, thinking for a second that she saw Evan in the moving crowd. She shook her head and blinked a couple of times, her gaze scanning the throng of people in search of a man resembling her former husband. The only one she spotted was a man wearing a coat similar to the one Evan had worn. He was about the same height and build too, but when he turned to face her, he was much older and actually looked nothing at all like Evan.

  That must’ve been who she’d seen. She shook her head. What was she thinking? The lack of sleep, and the recurrence of her dreams, was playing tricks on her mind. She would be sure to get some rest before the wedding.

  ~*~

  The next morning, Emily spotted Susan waiting in the hotel’s restaurant as the four of them came in for breakfast. Susan had let her hair grow out since Emily had seen her last. She had the same honey-blond color as Emily did, but it was long past her shoulders now, cascading in waves and large curls.

  Standing a couple of inches taller than Emily’s five-foot-six frame, Susan’s build was a little sturdier. She was almost ten years older than Emily, approaching forty, and still fairly attractive. She’d been a bit of a mother hen since their mother had passed away, but Emily knew she meant well.

  “Oh, Susan, it’s so good to see you.” Emily gave her sister a warm hug.