“It wouldn’t have been the first time he cheated, but no. Dad’s devoted to Jane.” After coiling the wire, Mia used her hammer to pull a nail from the same tree where I’d found loose nails—carelessly dropped earlier, no doubt.
Coughing to mask my sigh of relief—I couldn’t imagine Gina stooping to seduce a married man, or any man for that matter—I pressed on to keep Mia talking.
“Then what did Gina need to tell your Dad privately that would make you try to ki—hurt her?” I kept my voice soft so as not to spook her.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Tears brewed in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks. “It was an accident. A terrible mistake.”
“No, Mia. Stringing wire up and then pretending to be your dad was intentional.”
“Not Gina. Mama.” A cloud, as stormy as the ones hovering overhead, soured Mia’s features. But then her groan launched a small flock of birds nearby. “I never meant to hurt her.”
“I don’t understand.” My gut twisted. Her mother had been killed in a hit and run accident, but the police never found the driver. But then a new theory sent my mind whirling. “Wait. Were you the driver?”
She nodded, hiccupping between sobs. “About an hour after Mama left with her college friends for their girls’ weekend, I found Dad and Jane together. Like, together together. I tried to call Mama, but she didn’t answer her phone. I had to warn her. So, I took Dad’s car and drove to Charleston. Oh, why didn’t she just answer her cell phone? None of this would’ve ever happened.”
“But you weren’t old enough to have a driver’s license then.”
“No. Just my learner’s permit. I knew where she and her friends were staying. Mama was furious when saw me drive up alone, so she ran out into the street to stop me. But I was so upset. So nervous. I got confused and jammed on the gas pedal instead of the brakes and I…”
“You hit her.” Oh, such a burden of guilt this girl carried. My heart broke for her, and yet, her reality had brutal, life-shattering implications. “Why did you leave the scene?”
“I was so scared I kept driving. I knew Mama’s college friends would call an ambulance to help her. I thought she’d be okay. But she wasn’t. I never told anyone. I didn’t know what would happen if I did. Would I go to jail? Would Dad hate me?” Her eyes pleaded with me, but for what? Understanding? Forgiveness? “I couldn’t lose him, too. After Mama died, Dad was all I had left.”
“What did you do with your father’s car?”
“I drove it into the garage door.”
I’d forgotten about her car accident. She’d sworn she’d just been trying to back out of the driveway and accidently shifted into drive. “You kept a big secret all this time.”
“After Mama’s funeral, Dad and Jane got married. I wasn’t even invited.” Mia wiped her face on her forearm, still holding the hammer. “Since the police never linked my car accident to Mom’s death, I figured it was all over. Case closed. My secret lay buried in Mama’s grave, until…”
“Until two days ago, when Gina saw the photo of you and your mother.” In my peripheral vision, police officers crept around the bend positioning themselves in the trees.
“She was there when Mama died.”
“She realized you were the hit and run driver, didn’t she?”
“That stupid picture in my wallet.” Mia squeezed her eyes shut, her face twisted in agony. She loved that photo, as it was the last one ever taken of her mom with her. She always carried it. “Gina threatened to have the police reopen the case.”
“So you tried to stop Gina before she could tell Parker.”
“Please, Courtney. Don’t tell him. Don’t tell my daddy.” Her raspy voice hitched on the one word that belied this young adult’s youth. Her naiveté.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie, but the authorities need to know.” Each word uttered ripped my heart to shreds, yet reinforced my resolve. Mia was in over her head. I’d promised to help her. To be there for her. And I would. Every step of her brutal journey. But first, this young woman needed to own up to the mistakes she’d made. “Parker will understand. Over time—Oh!”
“No!” Mia jammed her heels into D’Artagnan’s side, sending him charging toward me at full gallop.
Before I could steer Bay out of the way, a cop lunged from a nearby tree as Mia passed under, landing on D’Artagnan’s rump and taking control of both horse and rider.
Less than an hour later, a fleet of blue strobe lights pulsed through the woods in the waning dusk. Mia’s wrists were handcuffed, and the police had cordoned off the trail with yellow tape. As I finished giving my statement to one of the officers, Scott and Parker hopped out of an arriving squad car.
“Mia?” With a stony face, Parker raced past us to his daughter and D’Artagnan. “What’s going on?”
Scott took Bay’s reins from me to escort us back to the stables. Once we were out of earshot, he asked, “Are you okay, Courtney? Did Mia hurt you?”
“Still in shock, but I’m fine.” Bay nudged my shoulder with his muzzle. “How’s Gina?”
“She woke up and spoke with me for a couple minutes. Hopefully, she’ll be back in the saddle before autumn.”
“Thank God.” I hugged Scott.
“What the hell got into Mia? Dang, that girl came unglued.”
I stopped and looked back in the distance at the precious-yet-broken girl, wrists tethered behind her, pleading with her dad. My gut sank to somewhere around my knees at the thought of the dark secret he was learning. Poor guy.
“Unglued? More like unbridled.”
DEADLY DEVONSHIRE, by Samantha McGraw
“What do you mean Kate’s dead? She can’t be. Check again.” Tess glanced up from the scattered contents of the woman’s handbag, now strewn around her on the floor.
“Sorry, Tess,” replied her assistant Jonah. “I hate to say this, but she’s gone.”
Just minutes earlier, Kate Pullman was enjoying her lunch at The Tea Cottage. Everyone knew Kate had a nut allergy, but she always carried an EpiPen and was so careful about what she ate.
But without warning, Kate had reached for her purse as she started to wheeze. Tess had rushed to help her, dumping the purse out on the floor and frantically tossing its contents about, but the pen wasn’t there. Tess had called out to everyone in the teahouse asking if anyone had an EpiPen, but no one did. They all rushed over, circling around as Kate crumpled to the base of her chair.
Tess had tried to open Kate’s airway, but it was too late. Kate was dead.
Now, Tess and all the patrons in the tearoom were in shock, stunned that a seemingly healthy young woman had died right before their eyes. Some were holding hands; others had tears streaming down their faces.
“Tess,” whispered Daniel Rosen, one of the tearoom regulars, “I just got off the phone with 9-1-1. The dispatcher said the police and rescue can’t get here right away. The temperatures have dropped faster than anyone expected. Those snow flurries outside have turned to sleet, and the roads have iced over. Every available cop and ambulance is on a call. Since North Carolina hardly ever gets snow, they aren’t prepared. She has no idea how long it will take help to arrive.”
“What?” Tess took a deep breath, aware everyone was watching. Then whispering to Daniel, “You mean nobody’s coming?”
“Not right this minute. The dispatcher asked everyone to remain at the tearoom until they arrived.”
“Hell’s bells! I can’t believe this is happening!” Tess said.
“What are we going to do?” Jonah helped Tess stand.
“Let me think,” she said.
A dead customer was the last thing The Tea Cottage needed. Tess had sunk her life savings into the charming building. It had been built in the early 1900s and originally served as the town pharmacy. The pharmacist and his family used to live in the two-room apartment upstairs, but her assistant Jonah lived there now.
Tess decided from the beginning to maintain the building’s historical charm. She spent
hours polishing the original hardwood floors, oiling the mahogany counter and repainting the open shelves. She hired a glass company to restore the stained-glass windows to their original condition. Once the antique dining tables and chairs had been put in place, she fashioned a small reading nook in the front corner with two soft armchairs and a variety of books to please any reader.
Tess had worked so hard to make her business cozy and warm, a place where her guests could escape the outside world for least for an hour or two. And her guests loved spending time here so much that many came several times a week.
And now, one of her regulars had died.
Right in the dining room!
This news would soon spread through their little town of Havenport, North Carolina, faster than chicken pox in a kindergarten classroom. Some of her guests were already murmuring to each other, asking for their checks and even reaching for their coats.
“Everyone,” Tess said. “Please go back to your seats and wait for the police to arrive. It shouldn’t be long.”
No one moved.
“I understand you want to leave. I know seeing Kate like this must be very frightening, and the weather is getting worse,” Tess said. “But the police are going to need to talk to all of you, so they can figure out what happened to Kate.”