Combing her fingers through my hair, she exhales a soft puff of air. A jolt of electricity shoots through my lungs, bursting through my chest. I deepen the kiss. She tastes of sun, salt, and honey.
When we finally break apart, our gazes meet.
In an instant, all joy evaporates. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”
“Yes. But this is real.” She pulls me back into the kiss. And I believe her. Please stay. When I open my eyes, she’s staring at me. She’s still here. Her large pupils are pebbles in the sea of her irises. She blinks and moves her eyes toward the boat. I follow her gaze and see a calm ocean. No boat. But there’s something else out there. I sense it. Deep below the surface.
When I turn back, she’s gone.
No.
Like clockwork, this wakes me up.
With effort, I open my eyes. Blinking at the light, I glance at my watch—it’s 7:20. Slowly, I stand and brush off some of the sand that’s matted into my clothes and legs. A passerby on his morning run looks in my direction with concern. I wave to reassure him I’m fine and harmless, then walk back to the motel.
She always comes back to me, and she always leaves.
And I’ve got to be at my next job by nine a.m.
CHAPTER 4
The Widow
I ease the car onto a narrow stretch of grassy beach roped off for parking. The Maverick Key Lighthouse looms ahead of us. At one hundred, it’s the oldest surviving structure on the island. Today, the town is celebrating its centennial with a cookout complete with dozens of picnic tables, a live Southern rock band, games, and plenty of food.
I cut off the engine and step out with Natalie. The whitewashed tower casts a long shadow over the crowd. Once, it guided sailors through reefs and shoals. Now it features a gift shop and daily tours.
We grab our things.
“Momma, can I have a cookie?Pleeeease.”
“Since you asked so nicely, yes. But just one.”
Smiling, she carefully lifts the plastic wrap and takes the cookie out of the bowl. While she eats it, I stare out at the beach. The ocean is eerily calm, but it’s breathing. Dozens of small patches of ripples bloom across the murky surface. A floor of shattered glass.
A muffled curse drifts from the rusty blue Prius parked beside us. A man shifts unsteadily, trying to balance severalcontainers of food he’s pulled from the back seat all at once. He’s thin, tall, and… striking. I wince at the impending food disaster. Certain it’s moments away.
“Here, let me help you with those.” I move quickly, grabbing a few of the dishes. Deviled eggs, rolls, and a veggie platter, all pre-packaged from the Maverick Key General Store.
Startled, he loses his footing and scrambles to catch himself, dropping a container of colorful cupcakes. After he regains his composure, he’s left clutching a plate of tea sandwiches.
His gaze fixes on the ground, staring at the sand-covered icing.
“Ohhh dear.” His accent is clipped, crisp—distinctly British.
He sets the sandwiches on top of his car and takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes and the dark skin of his forehead with a handkerchief. This brings my attention to the expensive, tailored charcoal suit he’s wearing. Not exactly beach attire, and even in the late fall, the temperatures in the afternoons hover in the eighties. He’s going to die in this heat.
“I must look like a clown.” He smiles as he puts his glasses back on and extends his hand. “Finn.”
He looks like he’s in his late thirties, maybe early forties. Uptight? Maybe geek chic. I shake his hand and introduce myself.
“Thanks for the help. I was hoping to make a good impression.” He gestures to the stacks of food. “May have gone a bit overboard.”
“Are you new to the Key?”
“I flew into Naples last night. I’m staying at the Driftwood Inn and Cottages. When I heard about the celebration, I thought I’d pop by and introduce myself to some of the town’s residents.”
Ah, he’s one of Maddie’s new guests. Either the scientist or a member of the film crew.
