Protecting Melissa (Holiday Cove 4)

“What are we fishing for, boys?” I asked, standing at Jackson’s side and peering over the edge into the deep blue waters. Dusk would be falling soon, and I knew I needed to go down below and get something ready for dinner, but I wanted a few more minutes to soak in the sun. I also didn’t want to miss Jackson catching his first fish, on the off chance he got a bite.

“Yellow Tail Tuna,” Chase replied, taking his place on Jackson’s other side. “That’s mostly what’s out in these parts and what I brought bait for…”

“That helps,” I said, laughing.

Chase grinned at me. His face was showing signs of sunburn and I made a note to myself to offer him some lotion later on. “Sit back, Mama. We’ve got this!”

I laughed even harder but didn’t argue. I wanted to see Jackson catch a fish, but the hours leading up to it wasn’t going to be terribly exciting. “All right, but if there isn’t a fish to cook in the next hour, I’m gonna have to go cook up some fajitas instead.”

“Ya hear that, bud? We have an hour.”

Jackson nodded, his face set in a very serious, all business expression. I ruffled his hair and crossed the boat to sit back in my chair. I picked up the novel Chase had loaned me and found my way back to where I’d left off. A few minutes later, Chase came to take the seat beside me. I put the book in my lap and looked over at him. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s a natural.” Chase grinned, but it slipped from his face as he met my eyes.

An hour passed in the blink of an eye and Jackson hadn’t received so much as a bite. I eventually went down to the kitchen to start cooking dinner, leaving the boys to continue fishing. Chase had piled the bags from his trip into town in the small dining room and I went through one by one, unpacking the dry goods and canned foods. Everything that required refrigeration had already been put away. I checked the list I’d sent with Chase and saw there was a check mark next to the line that read: Fajita seasoning. But I couldn’t find it anywhere.

I was about to go upstairs and ask, when I saw the door to Chase’s room open and there were two more bags sitting on his bed. I glanced up the stairs and heard Chase and Jackson laughing. It was odd to go into Chase’s room, but I needed the seasoning to make dinner. He wouldn’t mind…it wasn’t like I was snooping or anything.

With a roll of my eyes at my own neurosis, I went into his room and started rummaging through the bags. The first was full of clothing items so I abandoned the search and went to the next. I gasped as I peeked inside.

It was full of weapons.

“Looking for something specific?”

I whipped around at Chase’s voice and my face flushed. What was going on?

“I—um—no…what the hell is going on? Why do you have all…all that?” I gestured over my shoulder. Chase walked into his own room and reached around me, his face a fraction of an inch from mine, as he snagged the bags and then went to shove them in the overhead compartment above the bed. When he straightened, his mouth was set in a firm line. “What are you looking for, Melissa?” he hissed.

He wasn’t going to tell me? Oh, we’d see about that. I was beyond tired of lies and secrets and dangerous plotting.

“Where’s Jackson?” I demanded.

“He had to use the latrine,” Chase said. “I came to grab some snacks before we started fishing again. Now, tell me what you’re doing snooping around my room.”

Relieved that Jackson was safe, I turned my attention back to the disturbing findings. I glanced at the bag and then crossed my arms. “Tell me why you have all of that stuff.”

Chase considered me for a moment, but before I could repeat my demanding question, he sighed. “Well, I was going to wait until tonight…when Jackson went to bed. But we can do this now…There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

My stomach clenched at the tone of his voice. “Okayyy?”

“I talked to Matt while I was out today.”

“And?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, stalling. “And things aren’t looking good. The woman you mentioned, Talia—”

“Henry’s whore?” I snarled.

Chase swallowed hard. “She’s dead.”

Dead? My stomach flipped upside down and then rolled back over again. If there had been anything inside it, the contents would have hit the floor between us.

“Melissa?”

My eyes flashed up to Chase. “He did it.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a horrifying, bone-chilling statement of truth. I knew she was dead and Henry did it. He’d all but admitted to it on the phone with the mysterious Jensen. Make it look like an accident…