Captured at the Cove, page 1
Should she invite him in?
Would he make a move? Should she make a move?
She stumbled from the truck and grabbed the door. Taking a deep breath, she made a decision and strode toward him.
He met her halfway and took her in his arms before she uttered one word. Wedging a knuckle beneath her chin, he tilted her head back and sealed his lips over hers. The taste of the tiramisu on his mouth made the kiss even sweeter.
If her knees felt weak before, they were positively jelly now. She sagged against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. How would they ever make it inside?
When they finally pulled apart, West said, “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait any longer.”
Captured at the Cove
Carol Ericson
Carol Ericson is a bestselling, award-winning author of more than forty books. She has an eerie fascination for true-crime stories, a love of film noir and a weakness for reality TV, all of which fuel her imagination to create her own tales of murder, mayhem and mystery. To find out more about Carol and her current projects, please visit her website at www.carolericson.com, “where romance flirts with danger.”
Books by Carol Ericson
Harlequin Intrigue
A Discovery Bay Novel
Misty Hollow Massacre
Point of Disappearance
Captured at the Cove
The Lost Girls
Canyon Crime Scene
Lakeside Mystery
Dockside Danger
Malice at the Marina
A Kyra and Jake Investigation
The Setup
The Decoy
The Bait
The Trap
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
West Chandler—Dead Falls Island’s new sheriff comes with a strong desire to eradicate the drug trade on the island...and a past; when the son of a pretty local Realtor emerges as a possible witness to a murder, West must overcome his past fears and his attraction to the boy’s mother to save him.
Astrid Mitchell—As a single mom with a corrupt ex, a former police officer in WITSEC, she has her hands full; when her son becomes entangled in a murder case, she has to turn to another cop for protection, but the new sheriff in town is nothing like her ex.
Olly Crockett—Astrid’s son steals the drone his mother borrowed to use for work, but his theft has consequences far worse than a time-out.
Chase Thompson—The murder of this local drug dealer sets off a chain reaction of terrifying events for Astrid and her son.
Naomi Wakefield—Chase’s girlfriend may have some ideas about who killed her boyfriend, but will she live long enough to reveal them?
Monique—This mystery woman is connected to Chase in more ways than one, and West needs to find her before she meets the same fate as Naomi and Chase.
Michelle Carter—Astrid’s new client shows an avid interest in one of Astrid’s listings, a notorious property where a family massacre occurred, and Astrid needs to determine if she’s really interested in the property...or its reputation.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from Wyoming Ranch Justice by Juno Rushdan
Chapter One
Astrid’s breath came in short spurts as her gaze darted among the Dead Falls Spring Fling crowd, searching for Olly’s bright blond hair. He’d promised to be back before the fair ended. She’d been giving him too much freedom since his father had entered the Federal Witness Protection Program. Just because she couldn’t find Russ didn’t mean he couldn’t find her...and Olly.
“I’m a sucker for sprinkles.”
Astrid’s head whipped around to confront her customer, a tall, dark and handsome...cop. Her lips stretched into a smile across her gritted teeth. Pointing at the cupcakes arrayed on the trays, she asked, “Vanilla or chocolate frosting?”
He wedged a finger against his impossibly square jaw and cocked his head. “That depends on what’s underneath.”
“Excuse me?” She raised her eyebrows. Typical cop—always with the flirty double entendre. Did they teach that at the academy? She hadn’t seen this deputy around the island. Must be new.
He had the grace to duck his head as a blush touched his cheeks. “I meant the cake part. If the cake is chocolate, I like a vanilla frosting and vice versa.”
“You’re in luck.” She poked a plastic fork in the direction of a chocolate cupcake with white buttercream frosting and sprinkles. “This one is chocolate. I also have carrot cake with a cream cheese frosting.”
“Sprinkles?” He ran a hand through his short, dark hair, as if this were the most important decision of his day.
It might very well be, given he belonged to the crack Dead Falls sheriff’s department. The residents of the island had been hopeful the new sheriff would turn things around after the disaster of Sheriff Hopkins, but Astrid wasn’t holding her breath. Cops—if they weren’t inept, they were probably corrupt. At least in her experience.
She sighed. “I can add sprinkles to a carrot cupcake, if you like.”
“That would be great...if it’s not too much trouble.” He took a step back from the table as a middle-aged couple swarmed him.
The woman beamed. “Just wanted to say welcome to Dead Falls Island, Sheriff Chandler. I’m Lydia Feldman, and this is my husband, David.”
As Astrid dipped at the knees to grab the plastic bottle of sprinkles, she kept one eye on the exchange between the new sheriff and the Feldmans. So that’s why he was at the Spring Fling—meet and mingle with his constituents.
She screwed off the lid of the multicolored sprinkles and shook the bottle over the cream cheese frosting on one of the carrot cupcakes while she watched the new sheriff’s easy banter with the couple. He had them wrapped around his little finger.
“Ah, I think that’s good.” He nodded at the cupcake in the tray, smothered with sprinkles.
“You’re the new sheriff.” She narrowed her eyes and thrust the cupcake toward him. “That’s one dollar.”
He carefully took the cupcake from her, the fingers of his left hand pinching the silver sleeve. He extended his right hand. “That’s right. West Chandler.”
Placing her hand in his, she said, “Astrid Mitchell. Welcome to Dead Falls.”
She’d had sprinkles stuck to her fingers and had transferred them to his hand during the shake. They both eyed the sprinkles for an awkward second, their hands still clasped.
“Nice to meet you, Astrid.” He slid his hand from hers, sprinkles and all. “Did you make these?”
“Yeah, I did.” She wiped her hand on a napkin as if he had cooties. “The Spring Fling is a fundraiser for Samish Elementary, and my son is a student there.”
“I knew that—I mean, that this was a fundraiser for the school. It’s great to see parents involved in their kids’ education. Do you and your husband do a lot of volunteering for the school?” He retrieved a dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to her. Then he peeled back the paper and took a big bite of the cupcake.
She didn’t want to talk about her husband, her ex-husband, and a flash of blond hair in the crowd saved her. She waved her hand in the air. “Olly!”
Her son galloped toward her in the booth, his long, skinny legs almost tangling. “Hey, Mom.”
“You were gone so long. Where did you end up going?”
He flung his arm out to the side. “You know, just regular places.”
He lunged for a cupcake with chocolate frosting, and she smacked his hand. “You have to pay for those. It’s a fundraiser.”
“I’ll get that for him.” Sheriff Chandler handed her a crumpled bill.
“Hey, thanks.” Olly sank his teeth into the cupcake and asked with his mouth full, “Are you the new sheriff?”
Even her son had figured it out before she had. “This is Sheriff Chandler. Sheriff, this is my son, Olly.”
“Good to meet you, Olly.” He raised the half-eaten cupcake in the air as he turned away. “Thank you.”
Astrid stared after him, the khaki material of his uniform stretched across his broad back as he reached out to shake another hand. He’d only wanted to hit on her and had decided to hightail it out of here as soon as her son showed up. Jerk.
As Olly stuffed the rest of the treat in his mouth, leaving a smear of chocolate on his chin, Astrid noticed his high color and bright eyes. He still hadn’t told her what he’d been up to all afternoon while she’d been slaving away at the cupcake booth. “So, where did you and Logan go?”
“Umm, we took our bikes out and rode around, near the cove and stuff.” He jabbed a dirty finger at another cupcake. “Can I have that one if I pay you w hen we get home?”
“Hold on.” She turned to Peyton, skipping up to the booth, followed by her mom, Sam. “Hi, you two. Cupcakes?”
“They look delish.” Sam patted her curvy hip. “I know I shouldn’t, but hey, it’s for the school, right?”
“Exactly.” Astrid nudged Olly. “Did you say hi to Peyton?”
Olly dropped his chin to his chest, looking up at Peyton through his lashes. “Yeah, hi.”
Astrid and Sam exchanged grins as Sam plucked two cupcakes from the tray. Some of the kids were just getting beyond their shyness with the opposite sex, but Peyton and Olly were not among them. Astrid was fine with that. She didn’t need to deal with girl problems just yet, not as a single mother.
Peyton swiped her tongue along some vanilla frosting. “I saw you and Logan on your bikes on the cliff over the cove.”
“Did not.” Olly kicked the leg of the table with the toe of his sneaker, and the remaining cupcakes trembled. Astrid gave him a sharp look from the corner of her eye.
She’d told Olly plenty of times not to ride his bike on the cliff. The lack of guardrails on the edge would result in a sheer drop to the cove.
As Sam peeled back the paper on her cupcake, she asked, “Did you meet the new sheriff? He’s here somewhere.”
“I did meet him. He bought a cupcake.”
“He is a cupcake. Or is that beefcake?” Sam wiggled her eyebrows up and down. “And I heard he’s single.”
“Yeah, he’s all right.” Astrid stuffed the bills in the cash tin and closed it with a bang. “Let’s hope he’s better than the last guy.”
“Mom.” Peyton tugged on Sam’s sleeve. “Can we play the game to get a betta fish before they close the booth?”
“Sure. I’ll win one for you.” Sam gave Astrid a wink before walking away with her daughter.
Still eyeing one of the last of the cupcakes, Olly said, “Fair’s almost over, Mom. Can I have that one for free now?”
“You can have it now and pay me later. I baked these to make money for your school, not so you could gobble them all up.”
He snatched it up as if he were afraid she’d change her mind.
As she consolidated the remaining cupcakes on one tray and stacked the other trays, she asked, “Were you and Logan on the cliff above the cove on your bikes today?”
“Peyton doesn’t know anything. We weren’t up there. Logan’s not allowed to ride on the cliff, either.” He pulled his cupcake apart at the middle and stuck the bottom half on top of the frosting to make a little cake with icing in the middle. His uncle had taught him that trick.
She decided not to press him but didn’t know whether or not to believe him. Ever since she’d told him his father would be away for a long time for his own safety, Olly had been secretive. Her friend Hannah Maddox, who was a child psychologist, told her it was natural for Olly to close down a bit after that news.
Astrid had been trying to give him a little space to process, but she’d been having a hard time of it since her brother, Tate, had left on a special assignment to DC. He’d followed a woman there, and she had no intention of dragging him back here with her whining about Olly. He was her son, and she’d have to raise him as a single mother.
“These are awesome, Mom.” Olly rubbed his belly and nodded. “Good job.”
She ruffled his shaggy blond hair. “Thanks. Clean your hands off with this sanitizer. Then take this tray with the last of the cupcakes, walk around and try to sell them while I pack up.”
She held her breath, expecting pushback, but he squirted a dollop of the clear gel in his palm and vigorously rubbed his hands together. As he grabbed the tray and spun around, she called after him. “And don’t try anything sneaky. I know there are seven cupcakes, and I expect seven bucks if you return with an empty tray.”
He waved one hand in the air as he delved into the crowd.
Astrid wiped down the table and crouched to grab the box beneath it. She stacked the empty trays inside the box and put the hand sanitizer on top of them, along with a few items she’d brought from home. Lastly, she dropped the plastic bottle of sprinkles in the box.
The new sheriff sure did like his sprinkles but didn’t seem to like kids much, or he didn’t like women with kids. Sam had mentioned he was single, so that explained a lot. Not that Astrid was looking to date anyone, but if she did, she always thought going out with a divorced dad with kids might be easier than trying to hit a bachelor over the head with family life right out of the box.
She slipped her phone from the pocket of her denim jacket. It might be spring in Dead Falls, but the winter chill hadn’t quite dissipated. She tapped Kelsey Monroe in her contacts. Kelsey was the PTA treasurer and all-around volunteer queen.
“Hi, Kelsey. It’s Astrid Mitchell. I’m about ready to close down the cupcake booth. Do you want to pick up the money now, or should I drop it off later?”
Out of breath, as usual, Kelsey said, “I’m just picking up the money from the hot dog booth. I’ll be right over.”
By the time Astrid finished counting the money, Kelsey scurried up, a large duffel bag over her shoulder, weighing her petite frame down on one side. Kelsey flashed a set of dimples. “Your cupcakes were a smashing success. Everyone was raving about them—even the new sheriff.”
Astrid cleared her throat. “Good to hear. I sent Olly out to sell the remaining ones. If he comes back with any more money, I can drop it off in your mailbox.”
“Perfect.” Kelsey shook out a zippered money pouch and produced a sticky note and a felt pen. “Just write down the amount here and stuff the money in the bag.”
As Astrid began to scribble the total for the cupcakes, Olly ran up to them, panting and waving a ten-dollar bill in the air. “Mom, Mom. Sheriff Chandler bought all the cupcakes left on the tray, gave me ten bucks for them and handed them out to some kids leaving the fair.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Kelsey’s cheeks turned pink. “I like him better than Sheriff Hopkins already.”
Astrid crossed out the previous amount she’d written and added ten to it. So, Chandler did like kids—just not hers. “He overpaid. There were only seven left.”
“Well, I like him even more then.” Kelsey zipped up the money bag and dropped it in the duffel with the others. “I think this was a great success, and even the weather held.”
Astrid and Olly finished clearing the booth, and she made him carry the box of supplies to the car. Tate had left his Jeep behind when he went to DC, but she preferred her truck although she knew she’d have to trade up if she wanted to be a successful Realtor on the island. Nobody wanted to see a Realtor pull up in a beat-up old pickup.
Olly loaded the box in the truck bed and joined her in the cab. The sugar from the two cupcakes—maybe three—had made him hyper and he yakked in the seat beside her about the games he’d played and the friends he’d seen at the Spring Fling. She let him chatter on during the ride, enjoying his vivacity after a few months of morose silence.
She pulled the truck in front of Tate’s cabin, as he’d insisted on calling it, despite its size, comfort and amenities. Olly had the door open before she even killed the engine.
As she stepped out of the truck, she called him back. “Hey, get the box out of the back.”
He scampered past her and dived into the back headfirst. He then followed her up the porch to the front door, hopping from one foot to the other. He either had to pee or she was facing a long night ahead getting him down from his sugar rush.
She slid the key into the door lock, and then shoved it into the deadbolt lock. It didn’t click over, and she tsked her tongue. Had she forgotten to lock the dead bolt?
Bumping the door with her hip, she reached for the security keypad. Her fingers rested against the display with the red light. Had she forgotten to set the security, too? She must’ve been in a rush this morning.
She tapped the side of the box in Olly’s arms. “Take this to the kitchen, and we’ll put away the stuff.”
She followed him to the kitchen, where he dropped the box on the floor, the metal trays clanging.
“Hey, be careful with that.”
“L-look, Mom.”
She raised her head to follow his pointing finger and gasped at the broken glass from the side door. She grabbed Olly, digging her fingers into his bony shoulder. “We need to get out now.”
