Page 13 of Lost Love Cove 2
“No.” Matt shook his head as disbelief spread through him. “You don’t think Paula did this?” His mind reeled. “No.” He shook his head again as he tried to make sense of it. “Surely not. Paula has lived here all her life. She is nosy, but that does not make her suspicious.” He gave a nervous laugh. “And come on…” He glanced around the room. “You think she had time to clean this up, grab the bottle, and then disappear in 15 minutes like a trained pro?” The thought was absurd. Not Paula in her flowing pants and shirts with bright prints, floppy beach hats, and Crocs. “No way.”
“Think,” Carrie pressed. “When I found that teenager tampering with my mailbox, Paula suddenly appeared right afterwards. She was nearby again when Katy’s body was discovered. Now Ian collapses, and she vanishes along with any evidence of what may have been in that bottle of bourbon.” She glanced at the floor. “And not just the bottle. But the broken glass and…” She crouched down where the liquid had spilled and sniffed the floor. “That’s floor cleaner with germ protection in it that doesn’t have a bleach smell but has an odour cleanser in it, taking away any smell of alcohol.”
Matt shifted uneasily. Her words tugged at something he had been trying not to consider. “It could still be a coincidence,” he said, but his voice lacked its usual firmness.
Carrie’s expression hardened. “Coincidence is a luxury we cannot afford. A young woman’s life has just been taken, and others have been threatened.”
Matt raked a hand through his hair. “We can clear this all up right now by going to Paula’s house. I’m sure she’s there right now.” He pointed toward the door. “It’s not far from us.”
Carrie nodded. “That is exactly what we will do.”
They stepped outside. Matt whistled for the dogs, who bounded after them, tails high. The path toward Paula’s house was shaded and quiet, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the steady lap of waves along the shore.
When they reached Paula’s front porch, the windows were dark. Carrie knocked firmly on the door, but there was no answer.
A neighbor’s voice called from across the lane. “Looking for Paula?”
Matt turned. Mrs. Hollis, an older woman with a flowered apron and kind eyes, stood on her porch with a watering can in hand.
“Yes,” Matt said, forcing a smile. “Do you know where she went?”
Mrs. Hollis nodded toward the dock. “She left not five minutes ago. I think Paula must have gone to catch the last ferry to Key West as she asked me to keep an eye on her house.”
Carrie’s eyes narrowed sharply. Her head turned toward the house, and he didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. Matt did not think breaking and entering was a good idea.
“Thank you,” Matt said quickly. He touched Carrie’s elbow, guiding her back down the steps. Once they were clear of the neighbor’s view, he whispered, “Please tell me you weren’t thinking of breaking into Paula’s house.”
“I was,” Carrie freely admitted. “We need to see who Paula really is.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I didn’t buy the sweet carefree islander the first time I met her earlier today when she showed up at my front gate with cookies and a bribe for Luna.” Her hands were planted on her hips. “And I’m definitely not buying it now. I knew then already there was something off with Paula, and right now every instinct in me is telling me she’s involved or has involved herself in this for some reason, and I intend to find out.” She glanced towards the road to the ferry. “Especially now that Paula’s hightailed it off on the last ferry.”
“But if she is involved,” Matt pointed out, “and you break into her house… I may not be a police person, but I do know that anything you recover is inadmissible, isn't it?”
Carrie glared at him before nodding. “Fine. I’ll get a warrant and then break into her house.”
“That’s a better idea.” Matt still didn’t agree with breaking into someone’s house and invading their privacy, warrant or no warrant, but at least he’d stopped Carrie from acting rashly as he started guiding them back toward their houses.
They retraced their steps toward the cottages near the beach. Muttley and Luna darted ahead, barking at shadows in the undergrowth. The sky had deepened to indigo, stars just beginning to wink into view.
Suddenly, the dogs broke into a frenzy of barking. They tore toward the bushes near the edge of the lane.
Matt and Carrie ran after them. Branches rustled, and a figure struggled to crawl from the undergrowth.
A young man, clothes rumpled and face pale, staggered upright. Matt recognized him as one of the other detectives who had been on the beach earlier.
Carrie reached his side first. “What happened?”
The young detective swayed, pressing a hand to the back of his head. “I don’t know. Something hit me from behind.”
Matt steadied him by the arm. “Take your time.”
The young man blinked hard, trying to gather his thoughts. “I was circling the perimeter, like I was told to. Then I heard a woman’s voice behind me. She said… she said, ‘I am sorry about this.’ Then everything went black.”
Matt froze. His eyes flew to Carrie’s.
Her gaze met his, steady and unflinching.
Together, their voices blended into the night air. “Paula.”
6
