Chapter 2-1
2227 Words
two
Swan Harbor
August 1
9:00p.m.
Elsa drove into Swan Harbor, Maine at 9:00 p.m. on a Friday night. The small picturesque town just north of Portland was alive with tourists, a factor she hadn't considered when she'd left New York. Then, as she drove past The Beachside Inn and The Lighthouse Inn and saw their no vacancy signs, her bravado began to fade.
Crap!
When she turned onto Main Street, the lights of Sally’s Diner were tempting, but she kept going. That she should call Emma circled around inside her head, but in the end … what did it matter? She'd taken a chance and failed.
Her GPS led her around town, and straight to Emma’s property. Elsa followed the long driveway around the Veterinarian Clinic and parked next to Elli, the classic yellow Volkswagen her friend had loved forever.
But as soon as she turned off her car, the enormity of what she'd done washed over her.
Crap!
This isn't you. Chin up old girl, she could hear her late father say.
“I can do this,” she murmured stepping from the car.
One foot in front of the other.
Which is how she made it to Emma’s door. The ‘but, what if’ didn't even enter her mind as she knocked, using the same rhythm they’d created in college.
Three quick taps ….
Rap Rap Rap.
… and then a pause, and three light taps.
Tap Tap Tap.
The door wasn’t pulled open immediately, as always before. She contemplated knocking again, but the sound of dogs barking penetrated the fog of despair wrapped around her.
Was she at the right place? Emma didn’t have dogs.
She’s a vet. It’s probably a patient.
Elsa knocked again.
Rap Rap Rap
But when she lowered her hand to rest for a heartbeat, the door was yanked open.
“Elsa?”
“I’msorryEmma,” Elsa blubbered. “Ididn'tknowwheretogo.”
“Emma, who the b****y hell’s at the door?”
The voice, so similar to Liam’s, sent her over, and without anyone holding her, Elsa slid down on the top step and buried her face in her crossed arms.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there before she realized Emma was next to her. “I’m sorry. I should have called.”
“No,” Emma helped her stand, “it's okay. Come on. Let's go upstairs.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Come on.”
Her energy was quickly waning, but somehow Elsa made it up the stairs and dropped down onto the sofa. She could hear Emma moving around and talking to someone, but when a cat jumped next to her, she allowed her thoughts to scatter.
The lethargy pulled her under and the last thing she heard was, “Elsa’s here and it’s bad. Bring reinforcements, and ice cream.” and everything faded.
The Beach Shack
Swan Harbor
August 1
10:00p.m.
Killian sauntered into The Beach Shack and slid onto the bench seat across from his partner, Rusty Langley. “Did I miss anything?”
Rusty frowned, “No, but why are you here? I thought you had plans with Emma.”
“I thought I did too,” Killian sighed, “until she kicked me out.”
“What did you do to make her mad?”
“Wasn't me,” Killian grumbled. “The evening started with a call from my brother, Liam, and went downhill from there.”
“Wait,” Rusty frowned. “So, Liam is being a cockwomble, and by extension you’re suffering?”
“I don't know.” Killian thought back on what had transpired, “We had dinner, and then Emma's friend showed up, and I was told to leave. Didn't even get to ask any questions.”
“Ahh,” Rusty nodded. “Female solidarity. You'll get used to it.”
“Female solidarity?” Killian groused. “What the b****y hell is that?”
“It’s when something happens to one female, and all her friends have to rally around her. You’ll be in the doghouse for a few days, but,” Rusty shrugged, “it will pass. And in the meantime, you can be my backup.”
“I guess.” Killian moved around on the hard seat, trying to get comfortable and yet appear relaxed. “What are we waiting for again?”
“A buy,” Rusty replied, taking a sip of coffee. “It’s supposed to happen here sometime between ten and twelve.”
“A buy?” Killian glanced at the few tables that were occupied. Yes, the crowd was different than during the day, it still seemed like a long shot. “What kind of buy?”
“A big one.” Rusty lowered his voice, “Coke.”
“Coke?” Killian laughed. “In Swan Harbor?”
“Shout it loud enough for the whole town to hear, will you?” Rusty retorted. “Yes, in Swan Harbor.”
“Seriously?”
Killian had been used to the prevalence of drugs in New York City, but for some reason he’d not thought about them being in Swan Harbor. If he had, a little m*******a would have been what he’d expected. The cases he and Rusty had dealt with ran to the bizarre. Panty thief, dog killer, cat thief, b*a thief, but drugs seemed almost too normal.
“Just relax,” Rusty suggested, opening his newspaper and leaning back in the booth.
Killian huffed but with nothing to hurry home for leaned back against the wall and allowed his mind to wander over the events of the evening.
What had gone wrong between Liam and Elsa? And was it anything he had to worry about between him and Emma? They’d gone through a lot to be together, but since getting engaged she refused to set a wedding date. Was he missing something that needed to be attended to?
“Head's up,” Rusty murmured. “That could be our guy.”
Killian refocused his attention and studied the individual Rusty had pointed out. He appeared to be in his early twenties, clean cut, dressed in jeans and flip flops, but wearing an over-sized trench coat style jacket. And while a jacket normally wouldn't raise eyebrows in Swan Harbor, the temperatures lately were too warm for so many layers.
“Stop staring at him,” Rusty snapped, crinkling his newspaper as he turned the page. “We don't want him knowing we're on to him.”
“b****y hell, Rusty,” Killian shot back. “I'm not a rookie.”
“I'm well aware of that,” Rusty replied, “but …”
“Psst,” Rusty's reprimand was interrupted when the individual they were arguing over stopped next to their table.
Bloody hell, Killian thought watching the young man unbutton his coat, does he have a g*n?
From the corner of his eye, Killian saw Rusty sit up straighter in his seat, as if he too were having similar thoughts.
“What do you need?” Killian made sure the butt of his g*n was within easy reach.
“My, My,” the kid looked around furtively, “My coke is crisp and cold.” He sniffed loudly. “Would you like some?”
His coke is crisp and cold? Killian thought. Why would announcing your cocaine was cold be a strong selling point?
“Cold coke?” Rusty frowned.
“Sure,” their seller unbuttoned his last button, hinging open the right side of his coat. “See.”
Killian’s eyes flew to Rusty, who was gawking at the inside of the man’s coat, “That's the coke you're selling?”
“Shh,” the man tried to quieten him. “I don't want everyone to know.”
“Bu …” Rusty gasped.
“What my friend is trying to say,” Killian relaxed his posture and sent the man a toothy grin, “is why are you selling coke inside The Beach Shack.”
“Because, man,” the seller slid onto the bench next to Rusty. “the owner of this dump doesn't like coke. Only keeps that other stuff, so … do you want some, or not? I have Vanilla Coke, Cherry Coke, Orange Vanilla Coke, Lime Coke.”
“No,” Killian laughed, waving the man off. “I'm good. Rusty?” He tapped his partner’s hand, “Coke?”
“Go,” Rusty shook his head with disgust and flashed his badge. “Don't let us see you here again.”
The smart comment Killian had on the tip of his tongue died when he saw who entered the building just as their ‘coke seller’ was leaving, “Who's that with Hayden?” He tipped his head to where the younger man was standing, a brunette on one side, a blonde Killian knew as Diane on the other.
Rusty glanced across the room, “I think her name is Peyton. She works part-time at Sally’s. Why?”
“I don't know,” Killian shrugged. “There's something going on with him. Just a gut feeling.”
“You think it has something to do with the company he’s keeping?” Rusty folded his paper and shoved it aside.
“I'd bet on it.” Once Hayden had left, Killian pushed out of the booth. “Now, it might be just me, but I think your tip was a bust.”
“Stuff it,” Rusty fumed. “Let's go.”
Killian followed Rusty out of The Beach Shack and waved him off. He needed to call Liam and let him know Elsa had arrived. But based on the condition she’d arrived in, and Liam’s last comments, there seemed to be a disconnect somewhere. The question was where?
New York City
O’Toole’s
August 1
11:00 p.m.
Liam stretched his long legs under the table and took a drink of his Guinness. This was more like it. Marissa, Candace, and Sherry on his right and Penny and Kelly on his left. Women he’d been friends with forever, who didn't expect any more from him then a little of his time. Just the way it should be.
If that’s the truth, then why do you keep watching the door?
Just seeing who else is here.
Right.
The scoffing noises from his inner voice had been getting louder since he’d waved goodbye to Elsa.
That's not quite what happened.
Shut up.
“Kim!” The women around him cried as a newcomer settled into a seat across from him.
“What have I missed?” Kim smiled at everyone, “Anything?”
“Liam ran Elsa off,” Kelly offered.
“Off?” Kim frowned at Liam, then glanced back at Kelly. “As in away from our group or …?”
“Off … as in she moved out of New York,” Penny added.
“But he won't say where,” Marissa retorted, giving him a dirty look.
“Or why,” Candace offered her two cents.
“What did you do?” Kim tilted her head and pinned him with a blue-eyed stare that frightened most people.
“Why are you asking me?” Liam snapped. “I'm not the one who left.”
“But you ran her off.” Kim shook her head, “I was afraid of this when I saw her in here with you the last time. You are such an ass.”
When all the other women agreed with her, a feeling of consternation washed over Liam, but he wasn't sure why.
“How am I the a*s?”
“It's just like Debi Monroe,” Sherry whispered sadly.
“What the b****y hell do you know about Debi?” Liam barked.
“Barbi told us,” Kim explained. “But I agree with Sherry. It's exactly like Debi.”
“No,” Liam made a point of meeting each of the six women's eyes. “This is nothing like Debi.”
“How can you say that, Liam?” Marissa wanted to know. “You pushed Debi away when she asked for more than you could give. Isn't that why Elsa left? Did she ask for more?”
“No!”
“No?” Candace echoed.
But Elsa’s comment about him figuring out why she was leaving still lingered in the back of his mind. Why had she left?
“No,” Liam repeated. “She didn't ask for more.”
When the women exchanged looks, Liam had a creepy feeling they’d just had an entire conversation. “What?”
“Another man,” Kim nodded. “Has to be, right girls?”
“Another man?” He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “We’re just friends.” But as soon as he uttered those words, the burning in the center of his chest started again. “Listen, while this conversation has been enlightening, I’m going to go. Catch you all later.”
Liam threw a few bills on the table and waved at several acquaintances on his way out. He could have stayed.
But you felt like you were missing something.
Like what? He’d been surrounded by friends.
Not the one you wanted.
Could there be some merit in what they’d said? Was it another man?
- Writer
