“My mother died, my brother is missing… It’s just me.”
Both women’s eyes widened in surprise. It was the same thing when she told anyone snippets of her history. They were shocked by the idea of a missing brother and saddened by her predicament. She hated the pitying looks—that was why she rarely spoke up or opened her heart to new people. But these women were different. They’d reached out to her before they knew anything about her. She felt as though she could trust them with the little pieces of herself that remained after so much had been ripped apart.
“Well, you can always give me a call if you need anything,” Bea said matter-of-factly.
“Me as well,” Evie added with a quick nod of her head, making her red curls bounce. “Anything at all. You let me know.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Charmaine’s throat ached. “I wanted so badly to call my mother this morning, but I finally took the step to disconnect her phone. So, I was having a bit of a pity party for myself when I noticed Watson walking funny.”
Bea and Evie exchanged a pointed look.
Bea offered Charmaine a wide smile. “When you’re ready to go home, we’ll all head to the café and have iced coffees with the biggest piece of caramel chocolate cake you’ve ever seen in your life.”
Charmaine grinned through the tears. “I’d like that.”
Twelve
THE NEWS FLASHEDacross the television screen, and Penny stood watching with arms folded. She still couldn’t believe it’d happened — Buck Clements had been out of prison on bail for two days, and a contingent of press had followed his progress across to the island. Everyone was doing their best to stay out of the way. Penny had no desire to be caught up in a paparazzi frenzy, but the police officer she’d spoken to assured her that the media was likely to go home within days and not to worry.
“Just keep your head down,” he’d said.
And she’d done exactly that. Rowan had apologised for the behaviour of his fellow journalists, although from her perspective, they weren’t the problem. It was Buck — he was the one accused of murder, and for some reason their justice system had felt compelled to set him free before his trial.
Were they supposed to let murderers out on the street like that? Surely there were rules against things that put the public in danger that way. But she’d never studied the law and she couldn’t be certain. All she knew was, it seemed very wrong.
If he killed someone else while he was out, then they’d really be sorry. She heard about cases like it all the time on the news — someone suspected of murder was let out on bail and went on a killing rampage. She only hoped this time it would be different — after all, as far as any of them knew, Buck hadn’t killed anyonesinceher grandmother. At least, not on the island. If there’d been a spate of murders, she’d certainly have heard about it. The community was too small to hide something like that.
“What are you watching?” Rowan wandered in from the kitchen, eating a burrito over a plate. He set the plate on the coffee table and put the burrito on it, then moved to embrace her. “You look particularly ravishing today.”
She laughed and ran fingers through her wild blonde curls. “You’re just saying that.”
“No, I really mean it. Every day that passes, you get more beautiful.”
“That’s not physically possible.”
“And yet it’s true.” He winked and kissed her. She swooned inside but didn’t want to let him know her knees were weak. Sometimes he was just a little too full of himself and utterly aware of his own charms and how they made her feel.
“They let Buck out on bail.”
He frowned. “I know.” He spun to watch the rest of the news story.
A police officer was being interviewed. The man’s dark monobrow poked out beneath his cap. “We’re still compiling our case against the defendant. If you have any information about the murder of Mary Brown forty-six years ago, please contact the Coral Island Police Department. We need the help of the entire community to piece together what happened. As I’m sure you can appreciate, the crime was committed so long ago that much of the trail has gone cold. If anyone has information they haven’t submitted previously, please step forward. It could mean the difference between putting a murderer away for the rest of his life or having him return to the community.”
Penny shivered in Rowan’s arms. “Did you hear that? What do you think it means? You’re the journalist—you’re used to the way police officers speak about crimes and criminals.”
Rowan sighed. “Sounds like they don’t have an airtight case.”
Her heart clenched. She had been afraid of that. “What if he never gets convicted?”
“Then we’ll both have to live with the fact that the only father figure either of us has ever known could be a murderer, but will get away with it and be living on the island as our neighbour.”
Later when Penny drove to the Blue Shoal Inn to meet her friends for lunch, she could hardly think about anything else other than Buck Clements and his freedom. She pulled her car into the lot beside the inn and stepped out to survey the building. She hadn’t been to see it since Taya had renovated the place and then sold it to her father’s business,Paradise Resorts. It looked better than it had in all the time Penny had known it.
The paintwork sparkled white beneath the glare of the sunlight. Black trim and a charcoal-coloured roof accentuated the white walls, and the gardens were meticulously groomed. Everything gleamed brand new, but with the same vintage feel as it’d had before.
She and Rowan had decided to get married on the beach and have their reception at the inn. They wanted to feel the sand beneath their feet while they said their vows. Living on the island for most of their lives, they both felt a connection to the place, as though it should be part of their wedding day. It was something they’d both agreed was important.
She strode inside and found her way to the private dining room where they always met for lunch. The other ladies were already there. She kissed each of their cheeks and collapsed into a chair with a sigh.
