Kiss Me Hello (21 page)

She went down to the kitchen and popped a pod in the Keurig. The delicious smell of brewing coffee sent a stabbing pain through her heart. Joss would never smell coffee again—or flowers or rain. It wasn’t fair that his life was cut short. Life wasn’t fair. The hole in her heart wasn’t fair.

I can’t stand it.
She went out to the barn and opened up the steamer trunk. The bell had no clapper, so there was no danger of it ringing. It was so pretty. She would hang it up, just for show. Harmless.

On the veranda she climbed up on the half wall and took down a potted fern from the beam overhead. As she hung the bell by its leather thong, the mourning doves cooed above the beam.

“I’m glad you approve,” she said. The birds peeked over the edge. They must be getting used to her. They were still watching when she sat down on the half wall and leaned against the stone pillar. The same place where Joss had once sat.

“Ick,” she said. “Cold coffee.” They just stared. “What? Am I wrong to want something to remember him by? I guess you think I should worry about my husband who tried to kill me.”

The lawn was awash in sunshine. Everything was bright and quiet today. No breeze. No morning fog, no clouds. Silence broken by occasional birdsong or the muffled sound of hammering from the house.

Bram
.
My husband who tried to kill me.
He was a stranger to her now. A horrible mistake. She didn’t wish him dead. Just…gone.

“Who is this?” She sat up straight on the wall.

A red and white Mini Cooper turned off Turtledove Hill Road onto the long driveway, beeping its horn as it came. Her dove friends cooed and waddled along the beam. Sara put down her cup and went out to the lawn.

The car pulled over and the driver’s door opened. Peekie’s head popped up. “Halloo!” Her face was flushed as she hurried across the grass toward Sara carrying two large lattes.

“Hey, you!” Sara accepted one of the drinks. “Thanks. This beats my weak stuff. Come on up to the veranda.”

“There’s news,” Peekie said. “Gracien’s surveyors found a body.”

“Oh, god.” Sara’s pulse raced. She didn’t want to know, but she had to know. “Is it…?”

“Montague’s remains. Wedged deep in a crevice near the cliffs.”

“So it was an accident after all,” Sara said. “No foul play.”

“A little bit.” Peekie nodded knowingly. “There were two bullets lodged in his bones.”

“Good lord. Are they sure it’s him?” They sat down at a cast iron table and chairs left from the reception. Sara should be glad. Joss would finally find peace, finally be released from his hellish trap, but she felt something like a panic attack coming on. “How can they already know it’s him?”

“Some identification in the pockets, I guess,” Peekie said. “They found it yesterday afternoon. Chief Ken was in for a mochaccino just now and told me about it. He said the coroner talked to the people at the cemetery. They’re going to do as you suggested.”

“What did I suggest?”

“Bury the bones next to the little boy. Today, I think.”

“So soon?” They couldn’t. If they buried his bones in consecrated ground, she’d never see him again.

“Soon?” Peekie said. “Seventy years too late, more like.”

Sara’s heart sank. This wasn’t right. Even when they said goodbye yesterday, a part of her didn’t believe he’d really go.

“The ghost of Turtledove Hill will finally rest,” Peekie said. She raised her coffee cup. “RIP Joss Montague.”

“Rest in peace,” Sara said.

Joss was murdered, and she’d never be able to talk to him about it. It would just hang in the air, an unanswered question, through the rest of her life. If Peekie noticed her heavy sigh, she didn’t comment on it.

“What’s this now?” Peekie said. “What can the chief want?”

“And Bonnie.”

The familiar red convertible followed a Pelican Chase Police SUV coming up the driveway. They parked behind Peekie’s Mini, and the chief and Bonnie crossed the lawn toward the veranda.

Peekie looked at Sara with alarm. “This can’t be good.”

“Bram,” Sara said with a sinking feeling. “Bram’s dead.”

She started down the steps to the lawn, but her legs went wobbly. She took a deep breath and kept going. She’d almost made it to Bonnie and the chief when the bell rang behind her. She whirled around, truly expecting to see Joss sitting on the wall. The bell rang again.

The mourning doves moving around on the beam had knocked rocks off it onto the bell. They flew up to the wisteria on the roof.

Had Joss heard? They couldn’t have buried his body yet, but she couldn’t sense him anywhere. She knew she had to let him go, but she didn't expect to feel so empty, so lonely.

“The hospital tried to call you,” Bonnie said. Her voice was strange. She seemed unsure of herself. Not the usual bold, confident whirlwind. “There was no answer.”

“The cell reception here is sketchy,” Sara said.
Why the small talk? Just tell tell me what you have to tell me.
She took hold of Peekie’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Blakemore,” Chief Ken said. “Your husband died about an hour ago.”

“No.” Sara swayed and leaned against Peekie. It shouldn’t be a shock, but…Bram dead? She couldn’t process it—even if he did try to kill her. A wave of nausea passed over her.

“I’m going to have to take you in to the station,” Chief Ken said.

“Station?” She was dreaming again. This couldn’t be real.

“I’m sorry, Sara,” Bonnie said.

“According to Ms. Norquist here, you pushed Mr. Blakemore down the stairs.”

“I didn’t mean to tell,” Bonnie said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Was this another hallucination?

“Bonnie, that’s not funny,” Peekie said. “And Chief Ken, since when are Bonnie and Sara
Ms. Norquist
and
Mrs. Blakemore
?”

“I saw you,” Bonnie said. “I saw you push Bram down the stairs.”

That’s right. Bonnie was there.
Of course she wouldn’t have seen Joss.

“You’re mental,” Peekie said. “If that’s true, then why didn’t you say so at the time?”

“Because he wasn’t dead yet, right?” Bonnie said. “And besides, I thought it was an accident. I kept waiting for Sara to say something. But she didn’t.”

“Wait a minute.” Peekie turned to Sara. “It was an accident, right?”

“Bonnie,” Sara said. “Think about it. Bram pushed
me—
or pulled me, I mean. Then he tripped. Remember?”

“I…I don’t know,” Bonnie said. “It all happened so fast.”

“We’ll cover all that at the station.” Chief Ken had his handcuffs off his belt, but he put them back. “I’m real sorry about this, Mrs. Blakemore. But we should go.”

This wasn’t happening.
“Rafe,” Sara said. “He’s got a crew inside the house.”

Bonnie said, “I’ll tell him—”

“No,” Chief Ken said. “Peekie can talk to Rafe. Bonnie, you’re coming with me. I need your statement too.”

The chief separated Sara and Bonnie in the SUV. “I doubt there’s been any murder in Pelican Chase.” He gave Bonnie a look in his rearview mirror. “And I want to keep it that way.”

Just after they turned onto Highway 1, the chief’s cell phone started playing the
Doctor Who
theme music. “Hi, sweetie. I’m in the SUV. She’s here with me. No, it didn’t ring. Yes. How is that possible? That’s good news then. I’ll tell her. Bye, sweetie.”

“What is it?” Sara said. She couldn’t imagine any possible good news.

“Sara, it seems your husband is alive.” Chief Ken drove past the turn onto Bird Way and stayed on Highway 1 headed for Fort Bragg. “And he’s awake.”

- 25 -
Residual Effects

“T
HEY SAID HE WAS AWAKE
.” Sara sat down by Bram’s hospital bed. He was still hooked up to the same machines, and his eyes were closed. The only difference was his breathing tube was gone. 

“He’s out of the coma,” Dr. Kasaty said. “But he’s sleeping now.”

“But how could you say he was dead in the first place?” Sara said. 

“He died,” Dr. Kasaty said. “His heart stopped. There was no brain activity. But our head of critical care wouldn’t give up. Using a new protocol from Stony Brook, he cooled your husband’s body and was able to operate and achieve resuscitation.” 

“I’ll wait outside for Peekie,” Bonnie said.

“Peekie?” Sara voice sounded to her like it was coming from someone else. This was all like a slow-motion dream. Joss was gone. Bram was dead. She was suspected of killing Bram—no. Bram was alive. The world made no sense.

“I called Peekie to let her know Bram is okay,” Bonnie said. “She’s coming to give me a ride back to my car.”

“Good, good,” the chief said. “But even if Mr. Blakemore isn’t dead, this is still a police matter. I’m awful sorry, Sara, but until this is cleared up you’re looking at attempted murder.”

“Kenneth Kasaty, you goose.” Peekie was at the door. “There is no way Sara tried to kill anyone.” 

“Sara?” The voice was raspy and broken, but it was Bram. He was awake—but something was horribly wrong.

“Good lord,” Sara said. “His eyes!”

They were no longer blue. For just a split second, she thought she was seeing someone else. Bram’s cornflower blue eyes were now hazel.

“It’s called acquired heterochromia,” Dr. Kasaty said. “Change in eye color due to trauma. It’s rare, but it’s a documented phenomenon.”

It was creepy.

“I want everyone out of the room,” Chief Ken said. “I need to take Mr. Blakemore’s statement.”

“Where am I?” Bram said. “Did I have an accident at work?” He looked at everyone in the room, one by one, slowly, his puzzled expression deepening. “Who are all these people?”

COMING FROM DR. KASATY’S
office, Sara turned onto Bird Way in a daze. How was she going to explain this to Bram?

Not that she owed him any explanations, but it was going to be awkward telling him she was pregnant. As far as he knew, they hadn’t had sex in eight months.

Sheesh. How had they lived like that?

Still, she wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. It had been six weeks since his  miracle recovery. He’d spent the first four of those weeks at the hospital in intensive rehabilitation, learning to eat and talk and walk again. He’d been home for two weeks now, and he seemed a different person. Nicer. Sometimes she sensed he wanted to renew their life together.

That wasn’t going to happen.

His disgust for her on the stairs that night was real, even if he didn’t remember it now. A big part of Bram had hated her for a long, long time. She could forgive it. She couldn’t forget it.

And she couldn’t be married to it.

Not that this was a marriage. They still hadn’t touched each other. In a perverse reversal, Bram actually seemed open to the idea. She’d had their furniture moved to Turtledove Hill while he was in the hospital, but she continued to sleep in the guest bedroom while he slept in their bed in the master suite.

Good lord. He was going to think she was having an affair. Somehow, she knew he wouldn’t believe she’d had unprotected sex with him while someone else was in his body. It would be funny—if it wasn’t so not funny.

A baby.
She’d wanted this for so long, but she’d always figured Bram would be a part of the adventure. She was thrilled and sad, all at the same time.

She spotted Bonnie’s Lexus parked outside The Book Beak and swung her car into the next free space. They hadn’t spoken to each other since Bonnie accused her of pushing Bram down the stairs. Even when she agreed to sell Gracien the vineyards, Bonnie had dealt strictly with Sara’s agent.

But this particular errand couldn’t be done through intermediaries. She took a leather journal out of the glove compartment. She’d been driving around with it for a while.

Bells jingled as she approached The Book Beak, and Gracien Poole met her coming out the door. “Ah, Sara,” he said. “I was just telling Bonnie the bank is funding today. The money should be wired to escrow this afternoon.” He held out his hand. “Thank you again.”

“I’m sure Aunt Amelia would bless the sale, Mr. Poole. The only thing holding her back was finding Joss Montague’s remains, and you solved that mystery.” It still hurt when she thought of him.

There was no reason to keep the land now, and a big immediate chunk of money would make things so much easier. Bram could leave with a big settlement. With his brain injury, he wasn’t going to be working for a long time. She wouldn’t leave him with nothing. And she’d be able to properly renovate the house—and care for the little one to come.