Please, God, let him be fine.
“Funny, Fiona has mentioned you and Olivia getting together on a fair number of occasions. You don’t consider that close?”
“I liked Olivia. She was very sweet and easy to get along with, but we hung out together because we were both new to town and we both had young children with us all the time. We didn’t share much about our lives outside of work and kids.” Not much, but they had shared some. At least, Olivia had.
More secrets.
Too many secrets.
“I see.” Keira scribbled something else into the notebook, and Merry was tempted to yank it from her hand, read what she’d written.
“I wish I could tell you more, Keira. I really do.”
“Did Olivia mention any—”
“Have they brought up her body yet?” Dr. Charles Fitzgerald interrupted as he walked toward them, his expression grim, his eyes dark with sadness. Though he’d treated Tyler for ear infections several times in the past year, Merry didn’t know him well. Olivia had spoken highly of him though. Called him a gentleman, a great father and a wonderful employer.
“Not yet. It should be soon, though. You know you’re not going to be able to examine her body, right? That’s going to have to be left to the medical examiner,” Keira responded.
“I know, but I need to be here anyway. She was the kids’ nanny. She loved them, and they loved her.”
“Was she in her apartment when you left this morning?” Keira asked, all her attention on her brother.
Good.
Maybe Merry could get in her car, drive home to her son. Hide away until everything blew over.
Only she didn’t think this was going to blow over.
There would be questions. Lots of them.
And, that could mean trouble.
Merry moved away from the siblings, their conversation swirling on cold January air and following her as she walked to the edge of the path that led to the cliff. She didn’t want to go back, didn’t want to see Olivia’s body pulled up from the rocks, but she had to.
Three months wasn’t a long time to be friends, but it had been enough time to know that Olivia was alone. A transplant from Ireland, she had a cousin in the States, but no other family close by. Someone had to stand vigil as her body was retrieved. Since Charles was being interviewed, Merry was the only one left.
She followed the path, bypassing the lighthouse and winding her way toward the cliff’s edge. Gulls screamed, their banshee cries piercing the air. She shivered, pulling her coat tight against cold wind as she ducked under the tape.
“The tape is there for a reason.” The deep baritone cut through her thoughts, pulled her back to the present and the problem at hand. Douglas Fitzgerald blocked her path, his broad, muscular chest at eye level.
She had to look up to meet his gaze.
Way up.
“Someone needs to be there when Olivia is brought up. She doesn’t have family around, so…” Her voice trailed off as he studied her face, his eyes so intensely blue that she wanted to look away. She was sure he could read her secrets, see all the things she’d spent four years keeping hidden.
That was why things hadn’t worked out.
That was why two dates had been two too many.
That was why she avoided the man like the plague.
Only she couldn’t avoid him now, couldn’t turn and run in the other direction.
“So, you thought you would be her family and keep watch over her? I wish I could let you, but this is a crime scene.” His words were gentle, his touch light as he urged her back under the tape.
“I won’t touch anything. I just want to…” What did she want to do? Pray for Olivia’s family? Make sure her friend’s remains were treated with respect?
“My family cared about Olivia, too, Merry. I promise you, we’ll make sure she’s treated with dignity.”
“Olivia has a cousin in the States. You’re going to have to call her.”
“Do you have a name or contact information?”
“Meghan, maybe? I’m not a hundred percent sure.” She wasn’t a hundred percent sure of much when it came to Olivia. A half-dozen years her junior, Olivia had been as closemouthed and protective of her past as Merry. That had seemed to suit them both fine. Maybe it was one of the main reasons they’d become friends. Neither asked many questions. Neither gave a lot of answers.
Only, now, Olivia was dead and there was no way to avoid questions or answers.
Please, God, let the questions just be about Olivia. Not about me, or my life, or Tyler.
She shivered, and Douglas rubbed her arms, the quick, brusque touch doing nothing to warm her. Her teeth chattered, and she dragged the coat tighter around her chest. She wanted to zip it, but her hands were shaking violently, and she was afraid Douglas would notice.
“You’re cold,” he said in the same gentle tone he’d used before, and she knew why every unattached woman in Fitzgerald Bay wanted to capture Douglas’s attention. Knew why the women at church whispered as he settled into the pew with the rest of the Fitzgeralds. Knew exactly why she’d agreed to go to lunch with him twice and why it was absolutely imperative that she never do such a foolish thing again. His tone, his eyes, they begged confidence, promised protection, made a woman want to trust him with all her worries and every one of her deepest darkest secrets.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re freezing.” He grabbed the hem of her coat, had it zipped before she realized what he was doing. “Why don’t you go home and warm up? I’ll stop by your place and interview you after I finish here.”
Stop by her place?
Be near Tyler?
No.
Never.
Not in a million years.
That’s what she wanted to say, but couldn’t.
“I don’t mind waiting here until you’re finished.”
“It could take hours, and the wind is picking up, the temperature is dropping. Charles’s place is off-limits until we finish dusting for prints, and you’ll either have to sit in your car or stand out in the cold. Go on home. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” He turned away, assuming that she’d go along with his plan. She wanted to. She really did. But she couldn’t risk having him so close to Tyler.
“I’ll be warm enough waiting in my car, and that will save you the effort of driving over to my place.”
“Is there some reason why you don’t want me to stop by your house?” He scanned her face, searching for the things she held close to her heart, the truths she’d never dared tell anyone.
“Of course not. I just thought that if I waited here, I’d save you some time,” she lied, because she couldn’t tell him how much the thought of having a police officer near her son terrified her.
“If you want to save me time, stop arguing about where I’m going to interview you and go home,” he said with a half smile that made her heart flutter.