1 A High-End Finish (25 page)

“Even if you do try to run,” I said, “Jennifer will identify you once she recovers.”

“You think so?” she said through clenched teeth. “Well, maybe I’ll just sneak into the hospital and finish the job.”

I was certain that she planned to do it, anyway, and the thought of her sauntering down the hospital hall in a fake nurse’s uniform made my stomach turn again. I switched the subject back to her main issue.

“I still don’t get what the big deal is about you liking women. Just because Jerry knew didn’t mean he could hurt you with the information.”

“You’re really nosy.”

I couldn’t dispute that. “Well?”

“Fine. In case you never noticed, Jerry liked to research the people he was dealing with. After I told him about Jennifer, he delved into my past. It didn’t take him long to find out what really happened at my former job.”

“What a scumbag.”

“Yeah. And by the way, Jerry seemed to know a lot of dirty little secrets around town. He enjoyed using the information to get what he wanted.”

“I’m glad I kicked him,” I muttered. “Still, that was no reason to kill him. Nobody here cares that you’re gay.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she chided angrily. “A year ago I lost my job because the homophobic old bat who ran the bank didn’t want
my kind
working in her family-owned bank. I wasn’t about to let that happen again.”

“You should’ve sued those people.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Did you drain my truck battery?”

She cocked her head and gave me a puzzled look. “Why would I do that?”

“Did you rig the bench-press rack to break while I was on it?”

She smiled. “That was almost too easy. And it was so sweet of you to think I saved your life.”

“Stupid of me.”

Whitney’s shrieks echoed from down below. I knew how fast the tide could come in. I estimated that it had been fifteen minutes since I’d called, so where were the damn cops?

The sounds of Whitney’s cries must have spurred Penny on to try to escape my hold. Without warning, her entire body quaked and kicked until she succeeded in throwing me off. I fell backward and she was able to push herself up and dash off.

“You’re not getting away,” I shouted.

She headed straight for the gun, but I dove at her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and pulled her back. She tossed me off again and ran blindly toward the cliff’s edge.

“Look out!” I screamed, and took a flying leap to tackle her sideways. It stopped her from going over the ledge, but she was furious now. She slapped me again and we grappled with each other, rolling and tumbling closer to the precipice.

Penny shoved my face away and I futilely punched her shoulders. I wasn’t much of a fighter, but I refused to let her get away. I also refused to fall off the side of the damn cliff, so I grabbed her jacket and yanked as hard as I could. It stopped our momentum just inches from the cliff’s edge. I don’t know how I did it, but I pulled her a few feet and flipped her over onto her back. Then I leaped on top of her again and straddled her, holding her shoulders down.

“Why did you use my tools?” I shouted. “Why did you try to frame me? And then you turned around and tried to kill me. Why?”

“I told you,” she said through clenched teeth. “You were getting too close. I saw that look you gave me that night at the gym. I could tell you suspected me. The only reason I went to dinner with you was to keep an eye on you. When you invited the cop to sit with us, that’s when I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”

I choked on a laugh. “I looked at you suspiciously because you were giggling with Jennifer. I couldn’t believe you had the bad taste to like her. I thought I wanted to be your friend, but that wasn’t going to happen if you were friends with her.”

She sniffed. “You can’t choose the people you fall in love with.”

“Oh, spare me,” I said. “She was just using you to get a bank loan.”

She froze. “That’s not true.”

“I’ve known her a long time,” I said. “She doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive. Usually a self-serving or malicious one.”

Penny took a long, deep breath in and let it out slowly as she seemed to ponder that possibility.

I almost felt sorry for her in that moment, but knew the feeling would pass. “Okay, okay, you loved her. So why did you try to kill her?”

“She was starting to hound me about the loan,” she admitted. “She wanted more money. I’d already taken a chance by approving the original loan, even though her credit was too lousy to get one. Then I found out she told Whitney about me. They decided to have a little fun and blackmail me. I decided that both of them would have to die.”

As if on cue, Whitney’s screams grew even more shrill and earsplitting.

I must’ve looked alarmed, because Penny chuckled. “Oh, don’t pretend you wouldn’t love to see the end of that loudmouthed bitch.”

“I’m not saying I care for her, but you don’t get to go around killing people you don’t like!”

“Don’t see why not,” Penny argued. “At least it’s honest.”

Honest?
I shook my head in revulsion.
Try
psychopathic
.

“You tried to kill me, too. Remember?”

“Nothing personal.”

When Whitney shrieked again, it grated on my soul. I knew that even if Penny escaped me, she couldn’t hide from the police forever. Meanwhile, Whitney was probably close to drowning. I considered my options. There were only two: let Penny go and rescue Whitney, or stay with Penny until the police arrived. And Whitney could die in the interim.

Sensing my hesitation, Penny took advantage. She jerked her arm loose and swung at my head, clipping me above my ear, right where she’d pounded me with the hammer a few days ago.

I groaned and fell sideways. She pushed me off her and started to run, but her feet slipped on the wet grass and in the next instant she slid right off the edge of the cliff.

I screamed and scrambled to grab her.

She managed to clutch a thick tuft of the elephant grass that grew along the edge. Now she was hanging on precariously.

“Take my hand,” I shouted.

“Go screw yourself,” she yelled.

“I’ll pull you up.”

I could hear sirens now, growing louder and more urgent. Several cars screeched to a stop near my truck, and within seconds Eric was out of his car and running across the ground to my side.

“She’s going to fall,” I shouted. “Can you pull her up?”

As Eric sprawled by the cliff’s edge, Tommy came sprinting over, frantic. “Where’s Whitney?”

I pointed toward the steps. “She’s tied up in one of the caves. The tide is coming in. Hurry!”

He took off on a run just as Whitney’s shrill scream filled the air again.

Eric reached his hand down over the edge. “Grab my hand.”

“Penny, take his hand,” I begged her.

“Let me go,” she cried. “I’d rather die than go to prison.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” I yelled.

She glared right at me. “No way am I going to live the rest of my life in a ten-foot cell with someone called Big Beulah.”

I could see her point, but she didn’t have to die to prove it. Her hand slid down the long blades of thick grass.

“She’s letting go,” I screamed.

“Oh no, she isn’t,” Eric muttered tightly.

Just as Penny released her grip on the elephant grass, he snagged her wrist and hauled her up the cliff in one smooth motion.

“Wow,” I said. He’d lifted her as if she were a child. Now, those were some serious muscles.

Eric scowled. “No way am I having another dead body on my hands.” He turned to a waiting officer. “Cuff her.”

It was poetic justice that Penny would have to suck it up and play nice with Big Beulah after all.

A few minutes later, Tommy arrived at the top of the stairs holding his terrified, wet, and exhausted wife in his arms.

“Is she all right?” Eric asked.

“She will be,” Tommy said grimly.

“Ambulance is right behind us.”

“Thanks.” Tommy walked away, clutching Whitney for dear life.

“Are you all right?” Eric asked me.

I pushed back my hair. “Yeah. A little shaken up and smacked around, but I’ll be fine.”

“You look different. Your hair is straight.”

I’d forgotten. “Yeah.”

He touched the neckline of my wrinkled, grass-stained red sweater. “That’s a pretty color on you.”

“Thanks. I always like to dress for these outdoor events.”

He choked on a laugh, then shook his head. “You scared me—you know that?”

“I scared myself.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He pulled me close and held on. “Don’t do it again.”

It took me a few seconds to get over my surprise, but then I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling warm and comfy in his embrace.

“I’m going to give it another minute or five,” he murmured in my ear. “And then I’m going to start yelling at you for disregarding my orders.”

I smiled and breathed him in. “I can live with that.”

Two weeks later, things in Lighthouse Cove were settling back to normal.

Conversations no longer ceased when I walked into a room. People didn’t stop to stare at me as I strolled down the sidewalk. My bike was repaired and tidied up and ready to ride again. I wasn’t having nightmares about people chasing me with oversized pink tools anymore.

There had been a few surprises, like when Tommy and Whitney came to my house to personally thank me for following Whitney’s car out to Barnacle Beach. Tommy raved on and on about my foresight and courage. I was about to suggest a group hug when Whitney put things into perspective for me.

“You probably think I owe you my life,” she said evenly, “but don’t hold your breath waiting for me to do your laundry or something.”

Yeah, I would’ve told her the same thing.

I never heard a word of thanks from Jennifer Bailey, and that was fine with me. But just to set things right, I let Whitney know that Penny had threatened to sneak into the hospital and put Jennifer out of her misery forever. If I hadn’t stopped her on the cliff’s edge, she might’ve carried it off. So Jennifer knew she owed me big-time. And that was satisfying enough for now.

Eric told me that as soon as Jennifer came out of the coma, she pointed the finger at Penny as the person who tried to strangle her.

Eric also let me know that before I’d called him from Barnacle Beach, he had already narrowed his search down to Penny and was on his way to take her in for questioning when he got my phone call.

He came by my house a few days after Penny was carted off to jail. It was a sunny afternoon so I poured iced tea for us both and we sat in the wicker chairs on my front porch.

“I realized that Penny was lying,” he said, “after I checked out what she told you about her fear of cops.”

“Oh, right. The night I had dinner with her at the pub.”

“Yes. She completely fabricated that story about the cop shooting one of the tellers at her old bank.”

“I’ll bet she made it up on the spot to keep me from guessing the real reason why she didn’t want you to sit with us.” I shook my head in disgust. “She must’ve had a hard time keeping all of those lies straight.”

“That’s how a lot of criminals get caught,” Eric said.

We talked for a while longer and I realized I was growing more comfortable around him every day. It was nice. Such a difference from the first time we’d met at a crime scene and he’d taken me in for questioning.

I smiled and sat back in the cushioned chair, studying his muscular arms and big strong hands as he sipped his iced tea. And that’s when he informed me in no uncertain terms that if I ever pulled something like I did at Barnacle Beach again, he would toss me into a jail cell for my own protection.

“Believe it,” he said, reaching over to give my hand a friendly squeeze.

So, that was sweet.

•   •   •

Mac, meanwhile, was still living in my garage apartment and planned to stay there through the restoration of the old lighthouse mansion. He was still insisting on hiring me and my crew for the work and I couldn’t be happier about that. He also insisted that he liked the view from his apartment of the garden and especially the gardener. Me. I liked when he said cute stuff like that, even though my face would turn red. I was just as glad that he was sticking around, because I liked having him nearby. He made me laugh, among other things.

When I finally returned home from Barnacle Beach that day, Mac had been waiting by the gate.

“Irish,” he said.

“Mac,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief. Seeing him made me so happy, I thought I might cry.

“I hear you’ve just escaped from the clutches of a psychopathic killer.” He said it as casually as he might’ve commented on the weather. “You lead the most interesting life.”

“I could go for a little less excitement,” I said.

“That’s too bad. I was hoping to hear you rehash all the grisly details.”

We had a good laugh, and while I thought I’d never want to relive those moments fighting Penny on the cliff, he made it easy for me to talk about it. After an hour of conversation and a glass of wine, I felt better and Mac went back to work on his book.

A week later, Mac announced that he had finished his latest story in record time. He asked me to read the manuscript and give him my honest opinion. I was thrilled and honored and touched, but also deeply afraid that if I didn’t love it, I wouldn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, I loved it. But I still didn’t know what to say to him except that I’d finished it.

He decided we should celebrate, so he invited himself over for dinner. He grilled steaks and I made garlic mashed potatoes and a salad. We had moved to the living room couch to finish the last of our wine before I finally told him my feelings. “I really enjoyed your new book.”

He grinned boyishly. “Don’t hold back. Tell me everything you loved about it.”

“Okay,” I said, laughing. “Well, first of all, Jake Slater is awesome.”

He nodded intently. “That part is autobiographical.”

I laughed again, something I seemed to do a lot when I was with Mac. “I really loved the climax where he was tied up in the cave and the tide was coming in. It was amazing to see how he untied his ropes underwater.”

“That’s his Navy SEAL training.”

“I know. I loved it.”

“Good.” He shifted on the couch until he was looking right at me. “How’d you like his evil twin?”

“Fantastic. Frightening. Truly evil. I believed him completely.” I took a sip of my wine.

“Don’t stop there,” he said, amused.

I hesitated. “Well, I thought this book was more romantic than the others you’ve written.”

“You think so? But I always have a woman or two in the story.”

“But Jake actually falls in love this time. With Shana.”

“What man wouldn’t fall in love with her?” he wondered.

“And she’s still alive at the end. That was a surprise. Any woman Jake gets close to usually dies.”

“Yeah, that’s getting old.” He gave a casual shrug. “But beyond that, there was no way I could kill Shana.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Tell me what you thought of her.”

“She was wonderful.” I bit back a smile. “Courageous and smart. Their banter was hilarious. But I particularly liked her tangled red hair and wide green eyes the color of sea grass.”

“I particularly liked that about her, too,” he said as he reached out to play with a thick strand of my hair. “I must admit I was inspired.”

“Jake definitely seems smitten by her,” I said, staring at my wineglass.

“I know the feeling,” he murmured.

I met his gaze. “What will your readers think of her?”

He set down his wineglass and took my hand in his. “My editor once told me that if I ever wanted Jake to settle down with one woman, I would have to make sure she was completely worthy of him. Shana is worthy of Jake. My readers are going to love her.”

“I hope so.”

“Oh yeah. Especially when she saves Jake’s life by blasting his evil twin with her nail gun.”

“She kicked his ass,” I said heartily.

Mac laughed as he leaned over and kissed me. “At the risk of repeating myself, I know the feeling.”

•   •   •

My girlfriends took me out to dinner at Uncle Pete’s wine bar to quietly celebrate the end of Penny Wells’s horrific killing spree.

As we all shared the large antipasto salad appetizer, Marigold studied me. “You’ve changed over the past few weeks, Shannon.”

“I’m wearing glasses,” I said. Apparently, getting my head bonked had weakened my eyesight ever so slightly. The ophthalmologist thought I would completely recover my full vision eventually, but for the time being, I was more comfortable wearing my new glasses at night, when my eyes tended to get tired.

“They’re really cute, but that’s not it,” she said, shaking her head.

“So how do you mean?” I wondered.

“You’re happier,” Lizzie said thoughtfully.

Jane smiled knowingly. “I think you’ve found your niche.”

“Oh, definitely,” Emily said, and glanced around the table. “Wait. Did she lose it somewhere along the way?”

I laughed. A few years back, I had told Jane and Lizzie that I wanted to rediscover that happy niche I felt I’d lost when Tommy broke up with me back in high school.

Had I really not found happiness in all the years since then? That sounded a little pathetic—and not true at all. I loved my life, my work, and my friends. My house and my garden. My town. The beach. Beautiful sunsets. Ocean breezes. I had been content for a long time. Still . . . I thought about it now and concluded that I did feel happier these days. I let it go at that.

Jane swirled her wineglass. “It probably helps that you’ve vanquished the enemy and have two gorgeous men besotted by your charms.”

“Vanquished,”
Marigold murmured, clearly impressed. “That’s a good word.”

Emily leaned over to look at Jane. “
Besotted
, really?”

“Don’t mind Jane,” Lizzie said, shaking her head. “She’s back on a Regency romance kick.”

“Whatever you want to call it,” Emily said wisely, “that’s quite a lovely niche to fall into.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.