“Then you might both be dead.” He came around the counter, joining her in the kitchen, crowding her. “Don’t blame yourself, Michelle. It’s a useless exercise.”
Blue-gray clouds scudded across his eyes, veiling them. Again, she sensed a deep sadness lurking behind the confidence and courage. The caretaker in her wanted to banish his sadness.
As if she had that power.
She turned toward the cupboard and grabbed two cups from the shelf. “I guess…it’s like stories of survivors. There’s always that sense of guilt, isn’t there? I wonder if it ever completely goes away.”
Colin was so close behind her the warmth of his body penetrated her cotton T-shirt. When he spoke, his breath stirred the tendrils of her hair.
“I don’t know if it does.”
She reached for her tin of tea bags. “Earl Grey okay?”
“Earl Grey?”
She turned and Colin took a step back, blinking, as if coming out of a trance. She held up the foil pouch. “Earl Grey? You’re not much of a tea drinker, are you?”
“Coffee man.”
“You could’ve told me.” She ripped into the pouch and dropped the tea bag into a cup. “I can make coffee.”
He lifted one of those square football-player shoulders. “I’m a low-maintenance guy. Besides, I came over here to make sure you got through the night okay, not to demand breakfast.”
The kettle whistled and Michelle poured the boiling water over the tea bags. “I’m glad you stopped by, and brewing a pot of coffee would have been a small price to pay for the chance to search the house…with you.”
He thanked her for the mug of tea, and then blew on the surface of the liquid.
She averted her gaze from his puckered lips. Slurping her own tea, she burned her tongue. “Are we going to wait until the vultures out there scatter before sneaking into Columbella House?”
He crossed the room and flicked the curtains at the window. “Are they ever going to scatter?”
She joined him, her shoulder brushing his. “Believe it or not, the crowd’s a lot smaller than it was earlier.”
“We’ll go around the side of the house. Nobody has to know we’re there.”
“So we are sneaking.”
He cocked his head at her, one side of his mouth curving into a smile. “Does that make it more appealing to you?”
“This is a small town. People talk.”
“I think we’re both aware of that.”
She took a sip of her tea, hiding the bottom half of her face with the mug. “People said good things about you.”
“People say good things about you, too, Michelle. It was just your mother, and you’re not your mother.”
Not according to those emails. “I know, but when your parent screws up, the trash gets heaped on you, as well.”
“What your mom did is in the past, and I’ve heard nothing but people singing your praises since I’ve been back.”
“You must be talking to the parents of my students. They like that I hold their kids’ feet to the fire in algebra.”
He blew out a noisy breath and ruffled the back of her hair. “You make it hard on a guy to pay you a compliment.”
She ducked her head, embarrassment warming her cheeks. That’s what Amanda always used to tell her. Pain sliced through her left temple and she pressed the mug to her head.
“Are you okay?”
“Let’s get over to Columbella House and see if we can find something. Amanda didn’t deserve to die in the street like that.”
Michelle put their cups in the sink and dragged a hoodie from a hanger in the closet. “I’m sure it’s cold in that old house. I don’t think anyone’s been in there since the twins were last here.”
“And they haven’t been back?”
“Mia’s in New York and nobody’s heard from Marissa since she took off with Mia’s boyfriend.”
Colin grinned. “I remember Mia’s temper. If I were Marissa I wouldn’t come back, either.”
Michelle crouched by the front door and plucked the flashlight she’d used last night from the basket. “I don’t think the electricity is on over there.”
Colin opened the door for her. When he stepped onto the porch, he shoved the rose petals off the step with the toe of his shoe.
Michelle unlatched the front gate and pushed through, keeping to the sidewalk and avoiding the people on the street.
“Michelle!”
Darn. Not fast enough.
She cranked her head around and spotted Ned Tucker, the high school football coach, peeling away from the group.
“Did you see anything last night?”
She shook her head, shoved her hands in her pockets and continued up the sidewalk with Colin close behind her.
He took her arm. “Let’s cross here like we’re heading toward the beach path.”
On one side of Columbella House, a path led down to a rocky beach. A cave was carved out in the rocks and teenagers hung out there even as they avoided the ramshackle house.
A gate hanging from one hinge separated the sidewalk from the path, and Colin unlatched it and shuffled onto the sandy path.
Instead of taking the winding trail down to the beach, he hopped over the dilapidated fence that enclosed the side yard of Columbella House.
Although the fence was low, Colin lifted Michelle to the ground on the other side. They stood silently in the yard, listening to nothing but the sound of the waves crashing below them.
And the thud of Colin’s heart beneath her cheek.
A strange sense of lethargy seeped into Michelle’s bones. She didn’t want to move from this spot, encircled in Colin’s arms, protected, safe. Once they moved, the magic spell would dissipate like sea spray.
Colin cleared his throat and gave Michelle’s waist a squeeze. Not that he couldn’t stand here forever holding Michelle close and inhaling the scent of wildflowers that clung to her hair. “Let’s try to get in through the side door.”
She jumped back, as if his words had startled her, had dragged her out of some dreamworld. He’d gladly return there with her, but right now he had a murder to investigate. And he had to do it before his vacation ended.
He kept hold of her hand and led her through a tangle of weeds and tall grass. He motioned toward a side door sporting a broken window. “Looks like someone already had the same idea.”
He jiggled the door handle, but it was locked. “Can I borrow your sweatshirt? I promise to replace it if it rips.”
Michelle raised her brows and dangled the sweatshirt from her fingertips.
Colin tucked his hand and arm into the hood of the sweatshirt and plunged into the hole in the glass. He grappled for the dead bolt and turned it, and then felt for the door handle. He turned it once, popping the lock.
He shook out Michelle’s sweatshirt. “Thanks. Not one tear.”
“I knew there was a good reason to bring it.”
Colin opened the side door and poked his head inside the house. “It’s the kitchen.”
He