He wrinkled his brow.“Is that why you did that?”
“No,” I admitted.“I wanted to protect you because I care about you.Not because I’m a cop.”
“Then that’s one thing I know about you now.You’re protective.”He smiled.“What’s something you know about me?”
“You’re tenacious,” I said immediately.
He laughed.“Okay, not as flattering as being protective, but it’s something you know about me.”
I laughed sheepishly.“Let me try again.I have a better one.”
“Go ahead.”He smiled.
“You’re warm, and you care about people.That’s why you’re a good journalist.People want to talk to you.They want to open up to you.”
He looked pleased.“Thanks.”
“I want to keep seeing you,” I said huskily.“I’m curious where this will go.”
He studied me.“We both have a problem putting work before anything personal.That’s not a good thing.”
“No.”I touched his cheek.“But we both said we wanted to do better with that.”
“We did say that,” he murmured.
I frowned.“You don’t think we can change?”That was a depressing thought.Here I was saying I wanted to keep seeing him, and he seemed worried we weren’t a good fit.
“Not exactly.But I think change takes time,” he said carefully.“It takes concerted effort over a long time.”
I held his enigmatic gaze, feeling anxious.“Are you saying you don’t want to try?”
“What?”He smiled.“Of course I want to try.I’m tenacious, remember?”
I gripped his biceps, scowling.“God, Spencer, you scared me for a minute.”
“Did I?”he asked softly, looking almost surprised.
“Yes.I told you I care about you,” I whispered, pulling his head down so I could kiss him.
He responded immediately, and I suddenly felt calmer about everything.I remembered how hard it was for him to trust and to let people be there for him.I knew from the way he looked at me and kissed me that he wanted this to work.But he had trouble showing that.Allowing that.I’d need to remember that when I felt insecure.Spencer wasn’t going to be easy to get close to.
But Spencer wasn’t the only one who was tenacious.
EPILOGUE
Spencer
A month later, Coral Cove was doing what small towns do after something terrible happens.It was moving on.Not forgetting exactly, but absorbing the shock into its daily rhythm until the edges softened and life could resume without every conversation circling back to what Tess Barlow had done.
Tess was awaiting trial at the county jail.She’d been charged with second-degree murder for Eddie’s death and attempted murder for the hit-and-run on me.Her public defender had entered a not guilty plea on her behalf, though from what Declan had told me off the record, the evidence was overwhelming.The confession alone, recorded at the station, would be difficult to overcome.Craig had filed for divorce the week after her arrest.I’d heard he’d moved in with a buddy from the Blue Whale and was drinking more than usual.
Gil pleaded guilty to the poaching charges.Fourteen counts of fishing in a protected marine reserve, plus additional violations for exceeding catch limits and selling unregulated catch.The judge gave him a $25,000 fine, revoked his commercial fishing license for five years, and sentenced him to ninety days in county jail.Gil accepted all of it without argument.I think he would have accepted anything.The man I’d seen at the Rusty Anchor that last night, the one who’d stepped between me and a loaded gun, had looked like someone for whom punishment was beside the point.He was already serving a life sentence inside his own head.
Rosa sold the Pacific Lady to a fisherman from Astoria.She told me over coffee at Driftwood that she couldn’t stand looking at the boat anymore.She was thinking about moving to Portland to be closer to her kids.I told her I thought that was a good idea, and I meant it.There was nothing left for her in Coral Cove except memories, and not all of them were good ones.
Margot ran my piece on the case.She’d given me three thousand words, which was unheard of for the Beacon, and I’d used every one of them.I wrote about the case, but I also focused on Eddie the man, not just Eddie the victim.Everyone was so shocked that sweet Tess had been a cold-blooded murderer that I didn’t want Eddie getting lost in the sensationalism of it all.
The piece ran with a photo Rosa had given me.Eddie on the deck of the Pacific Lady, squinting into the sun, looking like what he was: a good man, living a quiet life, who deserved better than how it all ended.
