Carrie Alexander - Count on a Cop Read online

  “That late? Pippa should be home in bed, especially after the day she’s had.” Connie looped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders as they retraced the route through the maze. She strained to listen, but the sounds of their own footsteps were all she could hear.

  Her eyes went to Sean. He must think she’d gone nutty, racing through the maze that way. She wouldn’t have suggested the tour in the first place if he hadn’t dropped his guard and their dinner together hadn’t grown so cozy. Connie had been surprised by Pippa responding so openly, even admiringly, to Sean. She wondered if both of them were more prepared to let a new man into their lives than she’d believed.

  “You really ought to see the maze in daylight,” she ventured lightly. She wanted to show off for him.

  He glanced back before returning her gaze. “I wouldn’t mind solving it for myself.”

  Her blood warmed under his lingering, speculative look.

  “I like the maze at night,” Pippa said. “It’s more spookier.”

  Connie pinched the end of her daughter’s nose. “Enjoy it while you can, goblin. You won’t be back, not in the dark.”

  They’d reached the far exit, where the lanterns gave off a comforting glow. Between them and the maze, the lights from the house stretched across the lawn. Beyond their reach, however, the woods seemed impenetrably thick. A garden shed was the only structure that gave civility to the wilderness. A rattletrap pickup was parked nearby, half-hidden in the woods. Graves’s truck was always breaking down.

  Unless it hadn’t. Connie shivered at the thought of the dour gardener lurking in the dark.

  “Do you still have your flashlight, Sean?” He’d brought one with him for the walk back to his cottage. Outside the village area near the harbor, the island had no streetlights.

  “Yes.” He pulled it out of his back pocket and clicked it on.

  The narrow arc of light made the surrounding area even blacker, but Connie marched forward, determined not to give in to the heebie-jeebies. Pippa didn’t need to see that.

  They reached the guesthouse without a problem, and Connie sent Pippa up to bed. She waited until her daughter had reached the top of the stairs before turning to Sean with what felt like two extra tongues in her mouth. “I’ve got dessert, if you’d like to, uh, stay for a bit.” Awkward. She was so out of practice.

  He seemed cautious. “Sure.”

  “It’s store-bought blueberry pie, but I can warm it up. And there’s ice cream.”

  “Can I have some?” Pippa yelled from upstairs.

  Connie called back, “I’ll bring you a plate,” before shrugging at Sean. “Sorry. There’s no privacy in a house this small.”

  His gaze traced her lips. “Too bad.”

  She bolted for the kitchen. She’d once had boyfriends lined up in the hallway outside her dorm room, but it had been fourteen years since she’d settled on Philip Bradford as the love of her life.

  She didn’t know what to do with a man anymore, particularly a reserved, reluctant man. The type she used to tease and flirt into submission.

  “Get hold of yourself,” she muttered, scooping vanilla ice cream onto the pie.

  Sean was sitting in the living room. She set two pie plates on the coffee table and excused herself to run up with Pippa’s dessert. Her daughter had gotten into her pajamas and settled into bed, a narrow twin tucked under the eaves. The Mystery on Cobbett’s Island was open on her lap.

  “Here’s your pie.” Connie gave Pippa a peck on the forehead. “Brush your teeth after you finish, and then straight to sleep. No staying up late. You’ve read that book a half-dozen times already.”

  “It’s my favorite. Trixie and Honey and their club go to an island. They get to sail and have a clambake and find a treasure map.” Pippa dug into her pie, forking up huge bites. “I never thought I’d be on an island, too, just like the Bob-Whites.”

  “That doesn’t mean there’s also a mystery to solve.”

  Pippa grinned with blue teeth. “But there might be.”

  “Or you might invent one.” Connie shook her head. “Don’t borrow trouble, Pip. I’ve got enough going on.”

  She was at the door when Pippa stopped her. “You kinda like Mr. Rafferty, don’t you?”

  Connie nodded. “Don’t you?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay. But I wish you’d let me ask him about crime stuff. How am I gonna learn?”

  Since it was so good to see Pippa’s enthusiasm, Connie acceded. “Maybe it’ll be okay if you ask him a few questions. But don’t be a nuisance. And no more following him around, you got that?”

  “I can be his sidekick instead.”

  Oh, dear. Connie could imagine Sean’s reaction to acquiring a four-foot, redheaded ball of questions as a constant companion. “I think you’re missing the point, Pip. Mr. Rafferty seems to prefer his own company.”

  Pippa pushed her glasses up her snub nose. “But he stayed for pie.”

  That he had. “Yes, and I’d better go and keep him company. Good night, Pippa. Don’t forget your prayers.” Every night, without exception, Pippa asked God to bless her daddy. Hearing her little girl’s plea used to break Connie’s heart anew each time. Gradually, the harsh sense of loss had been replaced with warm memories tinged with aching sadness. They would never get over Phil’s death, but maybe they were both finally ready to move forward to a future much different from the one they’d expected.

  “I won’t.” Pippa licked her fork. “G’night, Mom.”

  A blue mood clung to Connie as she returned to the living room until the sight of Sean, lean and long-limbed and stretched out on the couch, jolted her out of it.

  “You waited for me.” She sat across from him, in the plaid chair, and picked up her plate. “Please dig in. The ice cream’s melting.”

  They had dessert without discussion. Connie searched for something to say. She was intensely curious about his past—particularly the details of the shooting that he’d avoided—but she suspected he’d bolt if she got too pushy.

  “Mmm-mmm, Maine blueberries,” she finally said when her slice was reduced to crumbs and a few blue stains on the plate. “Is there anything better?”

  He speared the last bite of his pie, eyeing it with relish before popping the sweet morsel into his mouth. “Store-bought, you said? Sure tastes like homemade to me.”

  “Well, I guess it is, but not by me. You can buy fresh pies at Suzy Q’s Bakery, the cute little shop next door to Lattimer’s. I highly recommend their muffins, too.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She ran her eyes across him. “You could use a few extra pounds.”

  “Hospital food,” he explained. “And I’m not much of a cook when I’m on my own. I do cans and takeout.”

  So his injury was that recent. Connie made an impulsive offer. “Come over for dinner anytime while you’re on the island. I like to cook for—for people.” She’d almost said a man, but felt strange about that at the last second. She hadn’t cooked for any one man in particular, other than her family, since Phil.

  “Aren’t you busy with the garden?”

  “Only wrapping up the final details, and then there’s the party on Saturday. I always make sure I’m home for dinner with Pippa. Family meals were important to us when Phil was alive and I’ve tried to keep that going, even with just me and Pippa left.” Connie furrowed her brow, aware that while she talked a good game, there had been a few too many late days at work in the past year.

  “You miss him.”

  “Of course. But I’m not—we’re not—” Her face knotted while she tamped down an unexpected spurt of grief…and guilt. “It’s been almost three years. As impossible as it is to believe when you’re in the worst of your grief, time mends. You adjust. You learn to live again.”

  “That’s good to know,” Sean said in a tone so distant it was almost as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

  Her gaze flew to his face. He was deep inside himself, but his pain was raw. Recognition st
ruck her like a blow. She knew that pain well. She’d lived it.

  “You feel guilty about the shooting,” she guessed. As she’d vowed not to press him, the words were as gentle as she could make them. “You know what it’s like to live through tragedy.”

  His features hardened. “Yes, but it’s not the same as what happened to you. I didn’t lose a family member or a loved one. The man I shot was a criminal. He might have killed me if I hadn’t acted.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t feel sorrow for him.”

  “It was—” Sean winced. “His family. He had a family.”

  “Ah-h.”

  “A little boy.” Although Sean’s voice was clipped, very close to detached, the eyes he raised to hers betrayed his desolation. “He was in the car.”

  “Oh, no.” Connie began to understand why Sean seemed so torn up inside. Her heart ached. “I’m so sorry for him, but you couldn’t help that. You weren’t responsible.”

  Sean shook his head. He pulled back. “It’s late. I ought to go.”

  Connie rose with him. “Don’t go.” She reached out a hand, caught his arm. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party. Stay and we’ll talk about nicer things, like, oh, I don’t know…summertime and schoolgirl shamuses.”

  “Schoolgirl sham—What? I don’t get you.”

  She chuckled, even though humor felt out of place. “That’s something from Pippa’s books. She goes around saying she wants to be a schoolgirl shamus like Trixie. A girl detective.”

  Connie sat, hoping that Sean would follow suit. She filled the room with chatter to lighten the mood. “We’ve had an interesting time of that, I can tell you. The past spring, Pippa thought our neighbor was fencing stolen goods out of his garden shed, all because she saw a couple of leather-jacketed guys leave with a microwave and CB radio. Apparently in the 1950s world of schoolgirl shamuses, anyone who wears a leather jacket is a hood.”

  “Did you explain profiling to her?”

  “I pointed out that everyone wears leather these days.” Connie picked up her coffee cup. Finally, Sean sat and did the same. She smiled at him over the rim. “Mr. Rozenkranz caught her in his shed with a flashlight and her notebook, taking down serial numbers. It turned out he was buying and selling items on eBay.”

  Sean nodded. “Uh-huh. Ninety-five percent of the time, the obvious explanation is the right one.”

  “I wish you’d explain that to Pippa. She’s gone past normal curiosity to inventing wild scenarios about everyone we meet.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. She’s a handful.”

  “I haven’t been as strict with her as I should have, I suppose. She was so withdrawn after losing her father that the interest in detecting seemed like a good thing. At least it was something to occupy her, you know?”

  “She’ll get over it,” Sean said. “The overenthusiasm, I mean.”

  “How did you become a state trooper?”

  “Family tradition. My father was a decorated member of the force, and I’ve got three older siblings on the job, as well. Dylan, the youngest, is the only rebel. If you call being a computer analyst radical. He does play in a rock and roll band on the weekends.”

  “Then you’re not the oldest. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  “Nope, I’m number four out of five. What about you?”

  “I was an only child. But I had two boisterous male cousins who lived on the same street as us. I was younger, but I wanted to hang out with them all the time, except it was a struggle to keep up and be heard around them and their friends.” Although her cousins lived in separate states, many miles away, they were still close. Both had been there for her every time she needed them in the past several years. They doted on Pippa. She called them her uncles.

  Sean looked at Connie approvingly. “I’ll bet you managed.”

  “Sure.” Her grin was cocky. “I held my own.”

  “Pippa’s got a lot of you in her. She’ll do okay.”

  He sounded so certain. “I didn’t know you two had gotten to know each other that well.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. It was an astute observation.”

  “Astute?” Connie laughed. “Well, whatever it was, I’m encouraged. Pippa used to be more outgoing. Maybe she’s getting some of that back.” In her heart, Connie knew that her child would always bear the scar of losing her father.

  “Tell me,” he said, leaning forward to set his mug on the table. He left his elbows on his knees. “What frightened you, up at that maze?”

  She covered her face with a hand. “I feel foolish about that. I’m sure it was nothing.”

  “No, don’t let second thoughts curb your first reaction. Tell me what happened.”

  “All right.” Connie rubbed her forearms. “All I know is that first, a feeling that we weren’t alone came over me. Then I thought I heard a footstep. Just one, which was the odd part, as if the person was being stealthy. What would it matter if someone else had been in the maze, walking it the way we were?”

  “It wouldn’t, unless they weren’t supposed to be there.”

  “Exactly my thinking at the time. Now I realize it was probably one of Kay’s guests. She wants to keep them out of the maze until the unveiling at the party, when she’ll do the whole cutting-of-the-ribbon thing, with a prize for the fastest to complete the maze.” Connie shrugged. “The noise I heard had to be a houseguest, looking for an advantage. I overreacted.”

  “You thought Pippa was in danger.”

  “That’s putting it too strongly. Mothers worry—a lot. Plus, it was dark. I just wanted Pippa with me.”

  Sean nodded. “Okay. That makes sense.”

  The house creaked. They both jerked up their heads to listen, then Connie laughed. “Now we’re all doing it! Next thing, we’ll be joining Pippa on the trail of the Mystery of the Midnight Maze.”

  “It’s still not midnight,” Sean teased. “But it is getting late. Time for me to head back to Pine Cone Cottage.”

  Connie followed him to the door. “How long are you planning to stay on Osprey?”

  “I’ve got the cottage for two weeks.”

  “Lucky you. When I saw how beautiful the island was after my early visits, I looked into the housing situation in case I wanted to return for a real vacation. There are so few cottages available. There’s the Whitecap Inn, but it’s booked all season, a year in advance.”

  “No kidding?” He opened the screen door and stepped down into the pool of light cast by the outdoor fixture, an old-fashioned hanging lantern like the ones at the maze and the front gate. “I guess I really was lucky, then. It was only about three weeks ago, right after I was released from the hospital, that I came across the listing on a Web site that arranges house swaps. Vacations Away, it was called.”

  Sean stopped, but she nodded for him to go on. “Alice Potter, the owner of the cottage, is spending the two weeks at a luxury resort condo that belongs to my parents. It’s got everything—restaurants, golfing, riding, swimming, night clubs, a spa.”

  “Fancy. Why didn’t you use that instead?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “I know too many people there. I was looking for privacy and quiet.”

  The unspoken words were tangible: Time to heal.

  Inside and out, Connie had come to believe.

  “I understand.” She let the screen door close between them. Being thrown together in a heightened situation had escalated her emotions, maybe even her attraction to him. Now was a good time to pick up on his broad hint and take a step back. “Which means I probably should apologize again for Pippa’s intrusions.” She pursed her lips. “And mine.”

  A brown moth pattered at the mesh. “That’s okay,” Sean said easily. “I didn’t mind.”

  Connie was surprised at that. At first she wondered if he was only being polite, but he looked flummoxed by his own words.

  “Actually,” he added, “I’ve enjoyed it.”

  “I’m glad, because we’re certain to ru
n into each other again. Osprey is a very small island.”

  “I’m certain we will.” Sean put one hand up against hers, touched her fingertips through the screen, then pulled away. He glanced into the forest. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Thanks for the rescue.” For a couple of seconds, Connie felt as if her heart had stopped—but, no, it hadn’t. She was fine, just fine. Everything was normal. Ordinary.

  Extraordinary, she thought as she watched Sean leave, following the wavering path of the flashlight.

  Suddenly everything was magnified. The spicy, woodsy smell of the outdoors had sharpened. The sky glittered with a zillion stars. Sean Rafferty thrilled her, and she could feel herself coming alive, or at least more alive than she’d been for years. Conscious of every heartbeat, of the shape of her lips, even the tingling roots of her hair.

  Oh, Phil!

  Pippa Bradford’s Book of Curious Observations

  QUESTIONS TO INVESTIGATE:

  1. Who was in the maze? I heard him before Mom did. Could have been a woman. Mom says a houseguest and she’s probably right. I think somebody was learning the maze pattern so they could win the prize at the party. But what if that wasn’t it? What if Mr. Sheffield buried something important, like maybe even a body, in the maze while it was all dug up? Now that Mom’s done, no one will dig under the hedges again for years and years, like maybe a century. It would be the perfect grave.

  Check on Missing Persons!!!

  2. Is Mr. Rafferty really a policeman? Mom believes everything he said, but he could still be a criminal for all we know. Or he might be on the island undercover to track someone down. Why did he want to see the maze in secret instead of at the party? What if his real name isn’t even Rafferty? He could have bonked the real Rafferty in the head and gave him amnesia so he could take his place in Pine Cone Cottage, like in The Mystery of the Missing Heiress. Except I don’t know why. Continue survailance.

  3. Does Mom have romantic feelings for Mr. Rafferty??? I couldn’t tell for sure because I had to run and jump back into bed before Mom saw I was eavesdropping, but I think they might have kissed when he was leaving. That’s just gross.