Private Bodyguard (7 page)

Chapter Eight

Darling's body went on high alert. She turned her head from side to side, scanning the parking lot for her mystery figure. Her hair slapped her cheeks at the movement, and a chill found its way into her bones.

She was alone.

“Hello?”

Darling was so startled she nearly threw her phone. She had forgotten she had called the deputy.

“Hey,” she exclaimed into the phone. Her nerves pushed her voice into a high octave. She tried to tamp down her fear. “We need to talk again.” She checked the back for any unwanted passengers, then climbed into the driver's seat. Her grip on the phone had gone tight, as if talking to a police officer made her instantly safe. She knew this was not the case.

Derrick said some not-so-nice words before answering.

“More evidence, I'm guessing.”

“Something like that,” she hedged. “I'm coming to the station now.”

“Unless you know for certain the identity of either the deceased or her killer, can we meet at Carter's? I'm just now going off duty and haven't had a lick of food since this morning.”

At the mention of food, Darling's stomach let out a loud growl.

“That actually sounds good, but you think you could pick me up from my place? I'd like to change. It's getting cold.” Even as she asked, Darling started her car and backed out of her spot. What had been a cute outfit that morning was now feeling like a poor choice. April in Maine might have warmer days, but its nights could get nasty quickly. It helped that her apartment was midway between the station and Carter's. The return trip would also have them passing by her place on the way to his work.

Plus, she was hoping he'd be chatty when boxed inside a car.

Derrick agreed, and within fifteen minutes Darling was dressed in a long-sleeved royal blue sweater and a heavier coat. Her ankle boots were swapped out with a pair of black boots that laced up her shins, keeping her calves warm. She didn't bother with refreshing her makeup or checking her hair. Impressing Derrick was nowhere on her list of things to do.

Darling lived in a large house built in the 1900s that had since been converted into four apartments. Hers was apartment number three and tucked away on the left side of the second floor. In her years of living in Mulligan, she had found she loved the two-bedroom, one-bathroom dwelling. She jogged down the community stairs and wondered if Oliver would like her home.

It amazed her how complicated life could become within two days.

“Whatever you're about to say or ask, I'd like you to hit your pause button until we've sat down and at least have drinks in front of us,” Derrick said when Darling had situated herself in his Jeep. So much for Chatty Cathy. “A man can only take so much on an empty stomach.”

* * *

O
LIVER
PULLED
ON
his beer, looked around Carter's Bar and Grill, and wondered what it was like to live in Mulligan. It was such a small town compared with most places he had visited through the years. A giant leap different compared with Dallas, especially. The fact that Darling had settled in Mulligan made him question the town even more. Was it that great a place, or had Darling's need to distance herself from her old life driven her to settle for the exact opposite?

Now off the clock, Oliver took his time finishing his beer. The noise level in the restaurant had risen considerably. He turned to survey the new crowd. Should he get a table or stay at the bar?

“Evening, Deputy,” he heard one of the waitresses call. He cast a quick glance toward the door and was surprised to see Deputy Derrick holding the door open for none other than Mulligan's private investigator. The couple didn't see him as they were seated.

Couple.

Darling had already told him—of her own accord—that she and the deputy were no longer an item. Either way, it wasn't Oliver's business. He had been in town for only two days and had spent no more than an hour or two with her during that time. Feeling a connection that wasn't there was a distraction he didn't need and one he was sure Darling didn't want.

When he'd left home—and Darling—eight years ago, he had been firm in his decision. What Darling didn't know wouldn't hurt her...at least, he had hoped it wouldn't, not forever. He had watched the younger Darling change into an independent, clever young woman within the year they had spent together. She'd had so much potential at such a young age. He had never doubted her future would be bright. His, however, had always been in question. When he left Darling behind, he hadn't ever planned on returning to her.

He laughed to himself.

Now he was in Maine, sitting a few feet away from the same woman and her ex, the deputy.

In a way, Oliver was glad she had dated Derrick. He hoped that, even though it hadn't lasted, she had been happy. He hoped she had opened up to Derrick—or to some other man—letting him in to her carefully guarded world. Because even though he had purposely broken her heart, Oliver had hoped it would one day mend.

He watched as Derrick pulled out her chair, and the two settled into their seats. Darling had changed clothes but kept her yellow daisy earrings in. She had always loved daisies.

“Want another?” the bartender asked, pulling Oliver's attention away. He was thankful for it. He needed to give Darling and her life the privacy they deserved.

“Yeah. Can I also get a menu?”

The bartender tossed a laminated menu over and slid him a replacement beer.

“Our steak dinner is a favorite,” he said, pointing out the item listed under Entrees before going to tend another patron. Oliver didn't keep looking. George had said the same. If a Mainer praised it, then that had to mean it was good, right?

“It's a lie.”

Oliver sloshed his beer in surprise at the new voice to his left.

Darling was amused.

“A lie?” he questioned, regaining his composure.

Darling took the menu from his hands and set it on the bar. “The steak dinner is good but not amazing,” she continued. “You'd be disappointed.”

“Your friend George the Gate Guard would beg to differ.”

Darling snorted. “Well, George is a liar. Didn't we already establish that yesterday?”

It was Oliver's turn to laugh. “We didn't, actually.”

Darling waved her hand through the air as if to shoo off such trivial thoughts.

The bartender made his way back over, but before Oliver could put a word in edgewise, Darling had caught his attention.

“Hey, Benny, Oliver here will take one of your fantastic lobster rolls,” she said. “And can you send it over to our table?” She pointed back to where Derrick was seated, talking on his phone. Bartender Benny nodded.

“Well, looks like I'm eating some lobster, then. And not alone.”

“You can't just come to Maine and not have one of its best dishes. Plus, if I remember correctly, you're a fan of fresh seafood.” Oliver nodded, conceding that. “And as for the whole eating-alone thing, that's just sad.” There was a teasing tone in her voice, but when she spoke again the humor was gone. “I need to tell Derrick something about the case. I have a feeling I'll cross your client's path again before this is all over. I'd rather keep you in the loop.” She held up her hand to silence any questions Oliver was about to ask. “But first, I also
really
need a drink.”

Chapter Nine

Derrick greeted Oliver with a nod that picked up enthusiasm only when he saw the beer Oliver had gotten for him. The past two days had been long for Darling, but she knew they were nothing compared to what Derrick was having to deal with.

“I hope you don't mind dining with an out-of-towner,” Oliver said. He took the outside seat next to Darling. It wasn't a long booth, and their thighs touched as he got settled.

“Listen, as long you don't go on a killing rampage before we get our food, I'll be fine.”

“I'll see what I can do,” Oliver responded.

Derrick had stayed true to his plea to keep shoptalk out of the picture until he at least had a drink. He and Darling had done almost no talking on the ride over to Carter's. Then she'd seen Oliver sitting alone at the bar after they were seated. The act of including him had been impulsive.

Why? she wondered.

She waited as each got his fill of his respective drink. Darling found that her lips wanted to remain shut, also, until her drink arrived.

“So, how are you enjoying Mulligan so far?” Derrick asked.

“Well, aside from the Marks residence, I've only had the pleasure of visiting a few places.” He tipped his beer toward Derrick. “The police station was my favorite, by the way. I'm a sucker for being colder inside a building than I am outside it.” Derrick let out a laugh. It seemed genuine. “But Mulligan has its charms. I don't know if I'd be singing the same tune year-round once the snow comes in, but for now I can see the appeal.”

“The appeal. You've traveled around the world and you think Mulligan is appealing?” The deputy held up his beer. “That's mighty generous of you.” They clinked their bottles together, and Darling rolled her eyes.

She listened to them talk a bit longer before her drink arrived. She had readjusted her attention to the small glass between her hands.

“Is that milk?” Oliver asked, peering at the cream-colored drink.

“This, my friend, is another part of Maine you should partake in.” She took a long sip. The creamy goodness of Allen's Coffee Flavored Brandy mixed with milk created one of Darling's favorite after-hours drinks.

“It's cheap and delicious,” Derrick supplied. “This one here can only take so much before she turns into a puddle of giggles.”

“A puddle of giggles?” Darling said. “Is that even a thing?”

“I think I get what he means,” Oliver defended the deputy. He turned his attention to Derrick. “Right before her eighteenth birthday, Darling got ahold of the key to her father's liquor cabinet and called me after she did a few taste testings. She laughed for almost the entire conversation. I caught maybe one or two words the whole time.”

The two men laughed, and even Darling found herself smiling. In the time that she had met and fallen for Oliver, a lot of bad had happened in her life. However, when she was able to step back from her pity party, she could remember the good times, too.

“Okay, so I may turn into ‘a puddle of giggles' when I drink a little too much, but at least I don't cry or yell!” As if they had planned it, the two men shrugged. “But, just in case, I think I better go ahead and talk shop.” Darling took a large gulp of her drink and dove in.

“Elizabeth Marks hired me last week to get proof—pictures—of Nigel with another woman while he stayed in Mulligan. She believes he's been having an affair for quite a while.” None of this information fazed either man, so she continued right along. “She planned her trip to the Bahamas with her mother for the duration of his stay because she thought the fact that there was no way she could accidentally catch him might entice him to philander.”

“That's a different spin on reverse psychology if I ever did hear one,” Oliver observed.

“The Markses have a prenup that—in the foolish throes of young love—Elizabeth signed without question. If she divorces him now, she forfeits money she thinks she deserves, including the funds she actually made herself.”

“But if he cheats and she can prove it...” Oliver started.

“Then that prenup is void, and she's free to take, at minimum, half of everything he owns,” Darling finished.

Derrick leaned forward. “Which gives her one hell of a motive to hurt both her husband and his mistress. This is the kind of thing you tell the police who are investigating a murder,” the deputy bit out.

“We both know you already checked her alibi, and it's as clean as Nigel's. I knew from the start where she was and that she couldn't physically do it.”

“Did you see her in the Bahamas?” Derrick pushed her. “Do you know for a fact that she actually went?”

Darling sighed. “Derrick, I had Dan keep an eye out at the hotel just in case Nigel stopped by, and that's exactly what happened. Nigel spent the night with Jane Doe. Dan saw him. We both know that now Nigel's lying about even being there. We also both know that Elizabeth Marks was checked in to her resort at the time of Jane Doe's death.”

“Then why are you telling me this now? Why not keep it to yourself if you think it's not a big deal?” Darling knew Derrick was angry with her for withholding information. She didn't blame him for it, either. If she had been a cop, she would have been angry, too.

“Elizabeth wanted me to disclose everything to you because she realizes she's a top suspect. She wants me to tell you everything we've talked about and everything I've found,” Darling explained.

“Just like that?” Oliver asked, clearly impressed.

“Just like that. Sure, she wants discretion—if Nigel finds out she's wanting to divorce him, he could do it first and leave her with nothing—but she isn't stupid. Hiring a private eye to follow your cheating husband and then running off to the Bahamas for an airtight alibi? Yeah, she's smart enough to know how that looks.”

The men thought that over, and Darling used the silence to take a few more sips of her drink.

“Have you had any luck with figuring out who Jane Doe is?” she ventured when they appeared too involved in their own drinks. “Any new leads?”

The deputy rested his bottle on the table. He began to thumb the label off as he answered. He seemed to be considering each word he spoke.

“We have hit a few...snags.”

“Snags?” Darling and Oliver asked in unison.

“We're still searching several avenues in an attempt to identify her, but as of right now, we're no further than we were when you found her.” Derrick wasn't much for sighing, but his body sagged with the weight of frustration. “As far as we can tell, no one has reported her missing. We've sent her picture and description out to other departments to see if anything catches, but so far it's been one dead end after another. We even checked with cab companies and car rental agencies since we still can't locate the car she went to the hotel in. If we don't find something soon, we'll have to take this to the media.”

Darling shifted in her seat, as if she could move away from the bad information.

“Has anyone reported on the death yet?” Oliver asked. It was a question that Darling hadn't answered, either. Meaning to buy a newspaper wasn't the same as actually buying one.

Derrick shook his head and pulled a long strip of the beer label off. “Nigel's name might be in the clear because of his alibi, but word has already started to spread that he was possibly at the hotel with Jane Doe. Covering a story, even without his name directly in it, is still getting too close to insulting Mulligan's golden child,” he said. “I don't expect that to last much longer, though. The chief has a meeting with a local reporter first thing tomorrow morning.” He shot a look at Darling. “Rebel Nash.”

Darling let out a whistle. Rebel Nash was a Mulligan transplant who was the embodiment of unwavering determination and absolute stubbornness. If anyone was going to break the story
with
Nigel's name in it, Rebel would be the one to do it.

“From the little I know about her,” Darling explained to the out-of-towner Oliver, “Rebel values the truth more than the consequences of losing Mulligan's hero. Which, I have to say, I like about her right now.”

Oliver smiled. “Just what everyone needs, another you in a different profession.”

Derrick laughed and Darling picked up her glass. “I'm going to take that as a compliment, thank you.”

“I knew you would,” Oliver replied with a smirk.

The food arrived shortly after, and their conversation all but died. Well, the one in which Darling was included. Derrick and Oliver went back and forth, sharing their war stories about law enforcement and personal protection before switching gears to sports. Darling watched her exes with interest as she sipped away her drink.

When Derrick was tense, it was hard for him to ease up. Finding the humor in a case, if only for a brief stretch, was a task in itself. Darling knew that emotionally, it was hard for him to get out of his head long enough to enjoy his surroundings.

Oliver, on the other hand, knew when to laugh and did it with no issues. He was lighthearted but could slip into a more serious tone when needed. She watched as he laughed and slowly began to remember all of the sweet moments they'd had together. Sure, age had changed Oliver—he was more confident and there was no denying he had more muscles beneath his shirt—but Darling still could see the boy she'd once loved.

Darling let out a laugh at the thought. Both men paused their conversation but didn't comment. She ordered another drink and thought back on the case.

“What about the ledger?” she asked suddenly. She'd interrupted the men, but Derrick knew what she was talking about.

“We didn't think about looking until this morning,” he said with obvious disapproval. Whether it was of himself or the other deputies, she didn't know. “When we went back, someone had torn out the last three pages. We grabbed it for prints, but nothing so far.”

Darling brought up the pictures on her phone and slid it over to Derrick. “I took these yesterday, after I found the body.” Derrick's eyes went wide. “I swear I would already have given it to you had I remembered,” she hurried on. “But with everything that has happened, it slipped my mind.” The real reason being the mysterious letters. It had knocked her off her game, along with the amber-eyed man sitting next to her.

“You took a picture of the check-ins from the night Jane Doe checked in?” Derrick wanted clarification, but with his free hand he was already waving over the waitress.

“Yes. I wanted to use it as evidence against Nigel that he was having an affair. At the time, I didn't realize Jane Doe would stay a Jane Doe.”

“Check, please,” Derrick called to the waitress. “And you haven't searched these names yet?”

Darling shook her head. “I didn't even think about them until just now.”

“Send me this picture. I'm going to go back to the station and run them.”

Darling took her phone and did as the deputy said.

“I'll take care of the food,” Oliver chimed in. “You go ahead and get outta here.”

Derrick might have reconsidered had he not been given a new lead, but instead he just left.

“Looks like my snooping comes in handy sometimes, huh?” Darling said after she'd sent the picture. Oliver laughed and gave the waitress his card when she came back. “You don't have to pay for me,” Darling added.

“Consider it a reward for your snooping.”

“I'll finish my drink to that.”

And she did just that.

Oliver not only paid for dinner but also extended his gallantry to offering Darling a ride home. They settled into his rental, each pushing through the cold of outside, before Oliver started the engine and its heater.

“I have to say, Mulligan keeps on surprising me,” Oliver said.

“Do you mean Mulligan or its murder mystery?”

“Both,” he admitted.

“I still can't believe that no one can tell us who Jane Doe is,” Darling dove in. Her lips were a little loose and her body was a little warm, and not from the heater.

“Yeah, you would have thought that the cops would have found a witness by now. Even someone who had seen her at least driving through town.” Oliver clapped his hands together. It made Darling jump. “On the way in from the airport, I only passed one gas station,” he said, eyes bright. “I'm assuming that on the other side of town there's a gas station leading into Mulligan?”

Darling thought for a moment, then nodded.

“So there's a chance she might have stopped at either one of these gas stations, depending on which direction she was coming in from? We even checked with cab companies and car rental agencies since we still can't locate the car she went to the hotel in.”

“That's a slim chance, but yes.”

“Why don't we go check it out, then?” He started the car, suddenly energized. “A slight chance is better than anything you have right now.”

He was right about that. Even if Derrick was able to identify her, getting video of Jane Doe could make all the difference in the case.

“Okay, so let's assume she did drive in but not from the city side.”

“Why not?” Oliver asked. He had his hand on the gearshift, ready for direction.

“If she was already in the city, why would Nigel
and
Jane Doe drive out here to Mulligan to meet? I'm sure there are plenty of places they could have done it there,” she reasoned.

That was all Oliver needed. He backed out of his parking spot.

Once again, they were a team.