Bun for Your Life (27 page)

The frigid, clear night air on my face made it tingle, yet it was so refreshing, I didn't mind. I sat on the front steps and hugged my knees. I tried not to look at Dottie's dark windows behind me. It reminded me that tomorrow was Christmas day, and she would be spending it in the hospital, alone.

“Hey. What are you doing out here in the cold?”

I turned to see Sean's long, jean-clad legs beside me. He had Beau with him. He lowered himself and sat next to me. Beau settled in on my other side, as close as he could get.

“Traitor.” Sean laughed.

I flung an arm around Beau. I really would miss having him with me all the time. “The air feels good. I'm worried about Dottie,” I told Sean, already warming up with him beside me. “She's spending Christmas in a hospital. I hate that. It's depressing.”

“Yeah. It stinks, doesn't it? Her daughter and son-in-law will be here right after, so that's a good thing.”

I nodded. “But she'll be alone on Christmas, Sean. That's the important day.”

“I know. I feel bad about it, too, but we should be thankful she wasn't hurt worse than she was. She's a tough woman.” He bumped me with his shoulder. “Like someone else I know.”

I smiled at that. “If you mean me, I'm not so tough. I saw my life flash before my eyes more than once after Chase kidnapped Jane and me.”

“I bet you were awesome. I'm proud of you. And Jane.”

“Thanks.” I knew color was flooding my cheeks because of his praise. “Jane was wonderful. The medication she's on has made such a big difference for her. I'm glad it's all over. Never in a million years did I suspect Enid . . . well, Chase, of leaving me the notes, or that Enid was the killer.”

I shivered from the memory of my kidnapping. “That still creeps me out. She waited all these years to get revenge on something that happened so very long ago. Who knew she was such a bitter woman? Not only that, she ruined her son's life, too. Not to mention disrupting Blake and Trey's lives.

“Not that I feel sorry for Chase. How could he have hit Dottie on the head like that? He could have killed her! And to let his mother, Enid or Beatrice, whoever she is, talk him into leaving notes on my car to scare me says a lot about his lack of character.”

“Goes to show you can't put a face on crazy. I don't feel sorry for Chase, either. He made his own choices. He let his mother wrap him up in her bitterness, and now he's facing time for being an accomplice to murder, conspiracy to commit murder, assault, and kidnapping.”

I looked at Sean and smiled. “You can't put a face on crazy? That's a good one. She wasn't my favorite person, but
Calista didn't deserve to die because of what Max Danforth did to Peter Travis and Enid. She never did anything to Enid but be her friend. What did Enid possibly hope to gain by killing her? Why on earth did she poison her with peanut butter, then strangle her when she was already dead? What an awful woman.”

He shook his head. “People kill for so many reasons, most of which only make sense in their own sick minds. Funny you should ask about the strangling. She admitted to us that she wanted to make sure Calista was actually dead. The woman had a lot of rage built up. She was strong for an older woman, that's for sure. She did significant damage to Calista's . . . You don't want the details.”

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “I can live without them, thanks. It makes you wonder who you can trust. I wonder why she stuck around so long after killing Calista? You'd think she'd want to hightail it out of town.”

“Ego, I'd guess. The people in town went crazy over her. Maybe she thought if she left too soon it would arouse suspicion. Maybe she got some kind of thrill sticking around while everyone tried to figure out who the killer was. We could speculate all day.”

I nodded. “Whatever her reason, I'm so glad she got caught.”

“If it weren't for you, she'd be gone.”

The skin on my face grew warm as I blushed again. “The credit belongs to Jane, for realizing Enid was Beatrice, and for calling 911 in the bathroom. I don't know how she put that together so many years later. She was so amazing. I'm still in awe of her. Change of subject—how do you keep from getting cynical when all you deal with is depravity and murder?”

He shrugged. “It isn't easy sometimes. Unfortunately, I can't just magically stop thinking about work when my shift is done. I try and find joy in life. When my wife died, joy was pretty much over for me. Or so I thought. I'm learning that's not true. I've begun to finally heal. I've made some good friends here already, I love my work, and there's a decent bakery in town. I've even met someone I'm really starting to care about, someone maybe I can have something with.”

“Really? Who?” I asked, as my blood warmed, my stomach fluttered, and my heart beat a little harder.

He laughed. “I think I'll let you solve that mystery.”

“What was your wife's name?” I asked softly.

He looked at the ground as he moved a stone around with his sneaker. “Jordan. She was pregnant when she died. Our baby died, too.” He looked at me, and I saw such raw emotion in his eyes I flinched, but I couldn't look away.

“Oh, Sean, no. Oh my God.” Sorrow for him, Jordan, and their baby rose up inside me.

“You're the only one in the world who knows that. Other than the doctors and me. I didn't want my parents, or hers, to know. It would only add to their heartache. I hope you get what that means; the fact I feel okay sharing that with you. Damn. I'm not good at saying things.”

I smiled. “I get what it means. Thank you for trusting me. Oh, Sean. You took on the heartache for all of you.” Instinctively, I reached for one of his hands and pressed my lips against the back of it. The coolness of his skin felt good. When I released his hand, he grabbed mine, lacing our fingers together.

We both looked up at the swath of glittering stars swimming against the midnight sky for a few minutes. The silence was comforting, like a blanket enveloping us.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.

“Going to my parents'. What about you?”

“Dottie invited me to dinner, but that's out. I'll open a can of soup and Beau and I will exchange presents.”

“Now that's really depressing.”

“I'll be fine. I'm going to go visit Dottie in the hospital. I thought I'd go in the morning. You want to come with me?”

I smiled at him again. “I'd love to. I bought her a bread maker for Christmas. I'll have to wait till she gets home to give it to her. Think she'll like it?”

“Nice. I'm sure she will. Maybe you can leave it on her counter with a big red bow on it.”

“Good idea,” I agreed. “Sean, I'd love if you came to Christmas dinner at my parents with me. They'd love to have you. Bring Beau. My parents and Pepper love him. Wait until you see Beau and Pepper together. They're adorable.”

He thought about it for a few seconds. “I'd really like that. So would Beau. Your parents won't mind?”

“No! Not at all. It'll just be my parents, us, my aunt and uncle, my grandparents, another aunt and uncle, and—”

“So just a small gathering,” Sean interjected.

I laughed. “Yes. My mom makes enough food to feed three times the amount of people that come. Don't worry, there'll be meat. My parents aren't vegetarians.”

“I already liked Annie,” said Sean. “Now I like her even more.”

“Oh, you'll be well fed. I'll call my mother later. I'm glad that's settled. No one should be alone on Christmas. I wouldn't be able to enjoy my day thinking of both you and Dottie being alone. Maybe we could sneak her out for the day.”

He laughed. “Nice idea, but I'm afraid the hospital would notice.” He cleared his throat. “I have something for you. A thank-you-for-watching Beau present. I picked it up while I was away.”

“You do?” I was surprised, to put it mildly. Maybe I shouldn't be. Our relationship was changing. Slowly, but it was definitely changing. I'm pretty sure I was happy about it.

Despite his bad taste in baseball teams and music, and his love for red meat, I was most definitely attracted to him. And not just for his looks. I was concerned about being the rebound relationship, though. A distraction while he got over his wife's death; a quick fix while he got his life and emotions together.

“Yes, I do. I'd like to give it to you now. Molly? What are you thinking about? You look so serious.”

I blinked, then smiled at him. Maybe I was overanalyzing. I tend to do that. “Nothing important. That's very sweet of you. What is it?”

He let go of my hand, then reached beside him. He handed me a small package, which I hadn't even noticed earlier. I eagerly unwrapped it, tearing at the paper like an eight-year-old.

My breath caught when I saw what it was: a 1930, first edition of
The Secret of the Old Clock
. In excellent shape. It
looked brand-new, even. He had to have really looked hard for this. Never mind how much he had to have paid for it.

“Sean, I . . . I don't know what to say. You remembered I didn't have this one. Thank you. This means so, so much to me.”

His fingers traced my temple as he tucked a piece of hair under the red hat Dottie had knit me. He pulled me toward him, and I melted into his embrace. We clung to each other for a few seconds.

“Merry Christmas, Molly,” he whispered in my ear. “And thanks for watching Beau.”

I swear, I could stay like this, being held by him, the rest of my life. Even in the freezing cold. “Merry Christmas, Sean.” I pulled back. “This is awkward. I don't have anything for you. For Christmas, I mean. What with being kidnapped, my schedule got all messed up. I didn't even make Christmas cookies.”

“I'm glad you like it. It's not awkward. It's fine. Your present to me is allowing Beau and me to share Christmas with your family and Pepper. I'm really looking forward to spending tomorrow with you, Molly.”

“I'm glad you are, too. I love my book. I love that you remembered and thought of it. Thank you. I'll never forget this. Ever.”

“Good. You're welcome. I have something else for you.”

“Great!” I laughed. “Now I don't only feel ultra-awkward, I feel like a total loser.”

He laughed softly. “Not necessary. You'll never be a loser. Stay here. I'll be right back.”

I put my arm back around Beau after Sean disappeared. “You're a lucky dog. So, tell me. What else does Detective Corsino have for me?”

Beau licked my chin and remained silent. I could see where his loyalties lay, despite my excellent care of him (the time during my kidnapping to be discounted). I kissed his head.

Soon, Sean was lowering himself to my side again. He had a red basket in his hand, the border decorated with candy canes and a banner proclaiming
Merry Christmas
over and over. A big, shiny green bow adorned the handle. “Merry Christmas.”

I took the basket and looked down at the blanket. My mouth dropped open and emotion clogged my throat. Only the puppy's head was showing. I pulled the blanket aside to reveal a tiny sleeping replica of Beau.

“You bought me a puppy?” I gazed at Sean in awe. “A puppy? I can't believe it. You bought me a puppy!”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know. I was afraid you might take Beau, so I got you a dog of your own.”

Tears blurred my vision again, and this time they fell down my cheeks. “I love her. Him? Her?”

“Don't cry.” He took a tissue out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me. “It's a she. I'm glad you're happy with her.”

“Happy? Are you kidding? This may even be better than the book. Thank you so much, Sean. She and Beau will be best friends. I can't wait to show my parents tomorrow.”

“Why don't we take her back inside, so she stays warm. You want to name her before we do?”

I covered my new puppy back up. “She's a Christmas present, so I think Noelle.”

“I like it. It fits. So.” He cupped my chin in his hand, and his eyes held mine. “Before we go inside. The feelings you still have for Brian sometimes.”

His suddenly husky voice and the emotion behind it caused goose bumps to rise on my skin and my heart to skip a beat. “I don't still have any feelings for him.”

“In case you do. Are they going to stop you from kissing me back?”

“Kissing you back?” I managed to squeak.

“Yeah.”

He leaned toward me. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was Nancy on the cover of my new book, dressed in blue, sporting a stylish hat, with a clock in her arms. Would you believe me if I told you she winked at me?

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A huge thank-you to my agent, Frances Black, who planted the seed that became
Bun For Your Life
. Another huge thank-you to my editor, Robin Barletta, who did a wonderful job of making this book so much better. Very special thanks to Lucy Arlington, Leslie Budewitz, Susan Furlong, and Sharon Pape. Thanks also to the following people for their contributions and other help in creating this book: Richard T. Walton, David Bedford, Sergeant Jeffrey Dobratz, Detective Stacy Eaton, Amanda Glass, Stephen Hoying, Jessica Wells, Denise Talbot, Jennifer Fisher, Brian Eyre, and Lee Lofland.

Karoline Barrett
was born in upstate New York and now lives in Connecticut with her husband. When she's not writing, she likes to read, spend time by the water, and travel. Visit her website at karolinebarrett.com.

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