A Chance Mistake (8 page)

“Goodness. You can tell by looking at ‘im that he’s a dear. How did you meet?”

Dafina stole a glance at his eyes and for certain she could see to his soul. How could he convey such a loving warm look? Bless him. “Met him at the bookstore, I did. He was on a holiday and stopped to find some writing and reading material. It was—uh—love at first sight.”

“It sure was, darling.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “For both of us.”

She thought back to his stunned expression when she first saw him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. And now his words rang true. She realized that she had to be smiling with a silly faraway expression, probably as dumb as the face she drew on Pops.

“Are you okay? You look a little light-headed.” He scrutinized her expression far too intently.

“I’m just a little off, didn’t ‘ave much to eat today.”

“Why not?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Busy—I guess.”

“Honey, you should take better care of yourself.”

Huh?
What was he doing? He headed off into the kitchen. She gave her aunt an I-don’t-know expression and shook her head. Nesta smiled, but was it genuine? Kory returned with a glass of milk and handed it to her.

“Nesta, can I get you anything?” Kory turned to her aunt.

“Thank you, no.” Nesta frowned.

Kory sat beside Dafina and held her hand as before.

“That should help—protein. You
could be
expecting. After all, we have been trying.” He whispered and gave her a quick wink.

She coughed and sputtered on the milk. “Right-oh, love.”

“Drink up.” Kory motioned.

She drank the whole glass down then whispered back. “I can feel the baby kicking.”

Kory’s eyes widened. “Really? Are you…?” His surprised expression made her laugh.

“Could you speak up over there? I’m missing all the fun.” Aunt Nesta twirled a hand. “Did I hear right? Are you expecting?”

“Uh—” Dafina wracked her brain as she stared at Nesta. What should she say? She looked over at Kory who also seemed to be holding his breath for the answer. But it was he who brought them to this uncomfortable conversation. Writers. Americans. American writers. “It’s too early to tell.”

Griff must have had his limit of all the strange vibes and hand squeezing that he jumped up on the couch and positioned himself between her and Kory. She let go of his hand to pet Griff then dared a glance at Kory. The warmth in his eyes still lingered, but somberness overshadowed it.

“Tell me now. How did you become a writer? What do you write? How do you get your ideas? What are you working on?” Nesta leaned forward in eagerness to hear it all.

Dafina relaxed and listened to Kory. He answered her questions in a humble, energetic process. He talked about his childhood, riding bikes with his friend Luke. The adventures they had, finding new paths. The scary stories they made up and told each other. How he realized he could be taken into any thrilling ride or frightening adventure through writing. He talked about his college professors, writing his first manuscript, rejection, writing more novels, and finding an agent. Landing contracts at a publisher. Books signings, fans.

She learned so much about him from his answers. Why hadn’t she thought to ask such questions? What was wrong with her that she hadn’t? She assumed she was relatively a smart, curious individual. Ah. Kory had gotten into her head. That was it. She couldn’t think straight around him, although she gave every impression to herself and him that she could. Bother.

“What are you working on now?” Nesta repeated with enthusiasm.

“Taking a break right now.” Kory glanced toward Dafina.

“Well, you certainly deserve it.” Her aunt nodded.

Kory smiled sadly. “Time away from the creative process isn’t always easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Writing. It’s hard to turn off.”

“I have no idea.” Nesta looked confused. “Dafina, what does he mean?”

“It’s like when you have a project—for me, gardening. Imagine that I have all my flowers ready to be planted. Holes dug in the ground. Then I take a break for a couple of weeks and leave everything sit. See what I mean?”

“Maddening!” Nesta thumped her hand on the arm of the chair.

“Exactly.” Dafina turned to look Kory in the eye. “Poor Kory has a mind
fertile
with imagination and he
can’t get it
on paper.”

He smiled and his eyes sparked. Oh yes. Her words had struck a nerve. After all, they had been trying, she thought sarcastically. Indeed.

“Well, darlings, it’s been fun, but I’m heading off to my room.” Nesta stood. “You do have tomorrow off, right?” She focused on Dafina.

“That’s right.”

“I’m looking forward to spending the day with you and Kory.” Nesta smiled and turned bashful. Dafina had never seen her aunt carry on so—like she wasn’t the same woman.

“Good night. We look forward to it, too,” Kory answered.

Nesta went to her room, happiness giving a spring to her step. Dafina put a hand over her face. How she dreaded to hear any form of backlash from Kory. Here he was on a holiday and got bamboozled into helping her.

“That went well, wouldn’t you say?” Kory’s whisper broke into her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“I make a good husband, right?” He smiled lightheartedly.

“Jolly good. I’ve never seen her…so…nice. She likes you—probably more than anyone on the face of the earth.”

He smiled and followed her down the hall. “I’m glad it went well. I’ll just grab my backpack and slip out to the cottage, so—”

“You can’t.” She took in a breath and her hand clutched her sweater by her neck. “Nesta is sure to find out and suspect that—”

“What do you want me to do?” He yawned.

Dafina was at a loss for words.

“Look, sooner or later, she’s going to find out. Right? Wouldn’t it be better that when she finds out I’m not your husband, she also learns that I stayed in the cottage?”

She wrinkled her forehead and nodded.

“Why is it so important that she thinks you’re married?”

“Come along.” Dafina stepped into her bedroom, and Kory followed.

She turned on a dim light, then leaned into the hall to turn out the other light. She closed the door, fearful that Nesta might hear their conversation, although unlikely, since the guest room was on the opposite end of the house.

“I’m whipped.” Kory sat on the floor.

She tossed him a pillow, and he turned it around and looked at it like he had no idea how to use it. How to explain her problem to him? Ridiculous, it was. “It’s a family curse.”

“You have to be married or—”

“I lose the house and the stone cottage.”

“Huh?” His expression turned incredulous in the faint light.

“I know it might not seem like much to you, but—”

“Your house and cottage are great, it’s not that. I just don’t understand how—your aunt will take it away?”

She nodded.

“And Nesta is such a nice lady. I thought you were protecting her from being hurt over learning your marriage didn’t work out.” He leaned with an elbow on the pillow.

“No, actually she’d be glad for that. Her daughter just became engaged and she could take over the property.”

“To live here…in this place, you have to be
married
? Who set up such a deal?”

“Bother, it’s probably been the deal since the middle ages. I don’t know. Probably as soon as the stone house was built.”

She tried to read Kory’s expression, but couldn’t discern anything.

“Mum should’ve gotten the house. She and Dad had a wedding planned. When Nesta found out, she got her chum to marry her practically on the spot, so she could beat out her sister. Did it on the sly, she did. Waved the marriage license in front of everyone’s nose. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Of course, I wasn’t born yet.”

“Doesn’t seem fair.”

“No…no it doesn’t. When Nesta finds out that I’m not married, everything can go to her daughter who’s already got the whole world.”

He opened his mouth to speak.

“Ah, you know what I mean.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I can hardly make a living as it is. But living here—I hoped I could have a life. My gardens…and pottery.”

“Your pottery?”

“Yes, did you see it in the shed when you stowed your bike?”

He lifted his eyes off to his right as if thinking intently. “That was
your
pottery?”

She nodded and felt a little lighter inside. His expression turned to awe. He liked it.

“It’s amazing. You’re quite talented.”

“I wanted to see if I could sell them in a shop or two in town. If I have to move into a tiny flat, I’ll not be able to have a kiln or clay. I get the clay from the ground.”

“Wow.” He sighed and reclined further moving his head to the pillow. “I’m sorry, I—”

“That’s okay. If I lose it, I guess that’s the way it has to be. I’d just hoped I could live here happily with my ‘usband. Have a bed and breakfast in the cottage and work on pottery.”

“Sounds like a wonderful plan.” After he said the words, his eyebrows came together like he’d surprised himself that he’d said it out loud.

“Turns out that George only had eyes for the property. Wanted to sell it, he did, and move away. When he learned that I didn’t actually own it, he wasn’t interested in our relationship.”

“That’s awful,” Kory said in a sleepy voice.

“He annulled the marriage and took off after a rich widow he met.”

She noticed his eyes couldn’t stay open. Poor man was exhausted. She draped a cover over him, and he closed his eyes.

Losing her home now would be a hardship for sure. She’d have to get a minute flat in a sketchy part of town or bunk in Gweneth’s apartment over the store. Dafina couldn’t go for that again. Even though she liked her boss, Dafina needed a space of her own.

She’d get to keep the house for a bit longer if Nesta believed she was married. Even if she could keep the property for a year—what a difference it could make. She could get her pottery established in shops and save some money for a new place. But being deceptive—she hated it. Her face turned uncomfortably warm. It was Nesta’s fault for coming and Nesta’s fault for stealing the property away from Mum.

Griff bounded into the room, ready to jump up on the bed as he usually did. But he stopped and sniffed the blanket bunched up on the floor. Once he realized it was Kory, Griff tried to wag the tail he didn’t have, making her giggle. “Silly boy.”

“Hmm?” Kory stretched out under the cover.

“Not you. Griff.” Dafina smiled. But she guessed Kory could be included in the label.

She rested her head on her pillow, thinking that getting any kind of sleep would be difficult. Her whole life was one big question mark.

The wind howled outside, and rain pelted the window. She said a prayer of thanks that Kory was safe. Goodness, she ought to see what could be done about his grotty clothes. She stood up and stepped out of the room, careful not to disturb Kory or Griff who had snuggled next to the man.

Chapter 9

Although not fully awake, Dafina smelled sausage cooking. She opened one eye. The sky that appeared through a crack in the curtains showed early morning, still a bit dark. Why would Nesta take over her kitchen and make sausage and who knew what all else? The woman had more nerve. She was determined to prove Dafina a poor hostess.

Dafina stretched. Why was her nightshirt so binding? Not her nightshirt. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes.

Kory—had he been able to sleep well? She turned to look at the floor where he’d been. A pillow on top of a folded up blanket sat in the place. Had he left? Without even saying goodbye? Oh, bother. She could write a book of her own—a very depressing one.

As she sat there, letting herself fall into the dumps, she noticed Kory’s backpack. Her outlook perked up.

Thirst sent her to the kitchen where she found Kory beating eggs with a fork in a bowl. When he caught sight of her, he smiled. “Hi, dear, sleep well?”

“I think I’m still asleep, thank you. I see you found your clothes.”

“Thanks for washing them.” He poured the eggs into the pan with the cooked sausage, chopped onions and sliced potatoes.”

She nodded. “Looks filling. What’s it called?”

“Eggs with potatoes and sausage.”

“And you call yourself a writer.” She tried to fix a bored expression on her face but smiled when he laughed.

“Okay, love. How about Skillet Scramble?”

Love?
He used the name like a true endearment and not thrown around like the usual Englishman. A rush of emotion warmed her. “Skillet Scramble?
Skillet Scramble.
I like the sound of it. Kind of rolls off the tongue.” She laughed. “Well, not literally.”

“Not so fast. You don’t know…yet.” He gave her half a smile as he stirred the contents in the pan.

“All the same, it’s nice of you to make breakfast.”

“I…actually couldn’t help it. I’m starved.”

“Kory—you didn’t have dinner, did you? I’m so sorry. I completely—”

“Please don’t worry about it. I’m just thankful—oh,” his voice turned to a whisper, “Nesta’s coming.” He slipped his free arm around Dafina’s waist and pulled her close just as Nesta popped into the kitchen. “I love you, princess,” he said softly.

Dafina snuggled closer, giving him a hug. She turned to her aunt and gave a little jump of surprise. “Egad! You startled me. Good morning.”

Nesta’s glance went down to Dafina’s legs and returned to her face. “Dafina, I might say…why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”

She giggled, keeping her focus on Kory. “Dear, me. I accidentally put on the wrong clothes.”

He smiled and turned red, the color creeping from his neck to his face. He cleared his throat and plopped a large spoonful of the scrambled egg concoction on a plate. “Breakfast is served.”

****

Kory breathed in foggy air and glanced across the street at the store fronts. Dafina had driven them to town, so Nesta could pick out a book from It’s a Mystery. The two women set off for the bookstore, and he the opposite direction to find a men’s clothing store.

Before they’d left, Dafina had called ahead to warn her boss and let her know that Nesta was under the impression that Dafina was married. Her forehead had wrinkled as she spoke in hushed tones.

Her boss’s voice came through the phone, “Well, who are you married to?”

“Kory Slate,” Dafina whispered.

“Oh! Good show!” The voice boomed.

Kory smiled at the thought. He looked across the street and did a double take. The police station. He ought to go and report the two hoodlums, shouldn’t he?

His feet took him to the building whether he wanted to go or not. He paused in the doorway then entered.

The office vibrated with a frenzy of activity. Each policeman was on a phone talking animatedly or scrawling down information in a hurried manner. Two uniformed men brought in a handcuffed man through a side door. All eyes turned to the three men. The two officers shook their heads to answer an unspoken question. A female officer at the front desk slammed down a phone and directed her attention to Kory. “How can I help you? Do you have information as well?”

“Information…yes…I—”

She frowned and repositioned her keyboard. “First off, what’s this about? Find a dead body?”

He laughed and then cut it short when he realized from her stern expression that she wasn’t kidding. “No…um…sorry. No.”

“Well—” She waved her hand in a forward circle. “Come on, out with it. Can’t you see we’re busy ‘ere?”

“I thought I should report the two men who bound me up yesterday and stole some money.”

“Two men, eh? That doesn’t fit the profile,” she muttered under her breath then spoke louder, “How much did they take?”

“About seven pounds.”

“Seven pounds?” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s make this fast. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than a two pence pick-pocket.”

“Oh?”

She swore. “Haven’t you seen the news?”

He shook his head.

“If you have any loved ones of the female persuasion, don’t let them out of your sight. We’ve got a slasher on the loose. A regular Jack the Ripper. But he’s not going for ladies of the night. No sir. Any decent woman that comes in his path. And right now this village and surrounding areas are in it.”

After Kory gave his account, he thanked the female officer and stepped out the door. Fresh air with spotty gusts of fog, nothing like it. And freedom—how he took it for granted. Halfway through telling his story, he got the idea that he had turned into a suspect. Her blue eyes traveled back and forth, taking in every detail about him. True he was vacationing alone. True that he wrote horror, and yes, some of it gory, but for goodness sake it didn’t make him a murderer.

The officer’s pallid face flashed in his mind’s eye. “You didn’t ever act out a scene?”

Her words made him sick inside. “No. Of course not.”

The whole encounter didn’t bode well. He couldn’t describe the two men in a way that satisfied her, and she smirked at the detail of the green shoelaces.

He looked at his own shoes as he walked. He could use another pair along with clothes. He came to a shop window with male manikins wearing casual clothes and a display with business suits. Steeling himself with a clenched jaw, he opened the door and stepped inside. Clothes shopping was his least favorite activity on earth, hence the fact that he hardly had much of a wardrobe. What he did have, he’d ordered on-line.

As he entered, a chime sounded and a rather pungent smell of new merchandise engulfed him. Two female clerks were engaged in a conversation, neither looked his direction. He headed for a section with pants. How many days would Dafina need his help? He should at least get several pairs along with shirts and sweaters.

“I tell you, I can’t believe it. So shocking it is.” A petite woman with brown eyes straightened a jacket on a hanger.

“None of us are safe.” Her grim faced, thin lipped, older co-worker adjusted shirts on a table.

Eesh. The villain would take one look at her and go the other way. Yes, she definitely was safe. He scolded himself for the thought. He’d feel awful if the slasher got her. No way to second guess the intentions of a serial killer.

Black, in his size. He pulled the pants from the stack. Gray would work and brown, too. He headed for the shirts.

“Her family is broken. Simply broken. They’ll never be the same again.” Big brown eyes filled with tears.

“Tragic. Makes my blood boil, it does.” Thin lips turned into an even tighter line.

“She was so beautiful. Pretty blonde hair.” The younger woman touched her auburn curls. “So far all the victims have been blondes. Have you noticed?”

“Of course I’ve noticed. The bloke must ‘ave it in for an ex that was blonde, or maybe his ol’ mum was a mean blonde. Who knows? He has to be crazed in the noggin.” Her bloodshot eyes widened. “He needs to be put out of his misery. If he crossed my path, I’m livid enough to do him in with me own ‘ands.”

Kory conducted a quick study of the boney fingers. Blue veins snaked from her knuckles to her wrists. He shook his head to diminish the picture of her strangling the killer. But what bothered him most were the words that all his victims were blondes.

He chose several shirts. “Excuse me, may I try these on?”

The older one nodded and pointed a direction to the back of the store, not missing a beat. “On the telly, the police sergeant—”

“Goodness, he’s a handsome chap—”

The clerks’ conversation turned to hushed excited whispers, evidently about the sergeant.

Kory spotted a doorway. Sure enough, dressing rooms were located inside. He stepped into a room with a mirror and closed a shuttered door behind him. He tried on the pants, surprised that they actually fit. They gave him a lean, fit appearance. Not at all like his baggy kakis. The shirts fit well, too. His worn brown sweater looked even more threadbare next to the new clothes.

A heavy burden of worry over Dafina’s safety weighed heavily upon him. Her beautiful hair would mark her as a target for the killer. After he stepped out of the dressing room, the clerks went into depth about the gory details of the last victim with whom they were acquainted. It turned his stomach inside out. He had written some grisly scenes, but they were nothing compared to that. Real life trauma and loss were always worse.

He left the store with their largest sized shopping bag. He’d even found two sweaters, a jacket, and casual shoes. He looked forward to wearing the new clothes—something he hadn’t felt since college.

He made his way back to Dafina’s car, popped the truck lid, and slipped the bag inside. She had given him a set of keys before they’d left her house, explaining that Nesta would think it odd if he didn’t have keys to the house or car. True, so true.

As he headed to It’s a Mystery, Dafina and Nesta surprised him by coming out a nearby linen store. “Good news.” Dafina’s bright-eyed, upset expression said the opposite. “Aunt Nesta is staying with us for a week.”