Page 10 of Lost Love Cove 3
Sure, they had both dated and then got together to discuss their date. They had fallen into a codependent type of existence, where Carrie would accompany him to functions, and he wouldaccompany her. But all that had started to change a couple of months before she’d gotten the offer. Connor had started missing dinners, turning down invitations to her Captain’s functions, and then right before she took the new position, he announced he was seeing someone, and it was getting serious.
It had stung worse than Carrie had expected it to. But she’d plastered a smile on her face for the twins' sake and pretended to be happy for Connor, then ran away to Nantucket. That was six years ago. A year after she’d been in Nantucket, Connor’s relationship with that woman ended. Carrie didn’t forget that night as he’d landed up on her doorstep wrecked, telling her love sucked. He’d stayed in the guest room for that weekend until Carrie sent him back home, telling him to face his heartache and that it would get better.
Connor had then started making weekend trips to Nantucket, and they had become close friends once again. Carrie had found it nice having him back in her life as it was easy. They knew each other so well that there was no need to pretend or to get to know each other. She could traipse around with no makeup and hair in a messy bun and be comfortable. Sure, Carrie had dated. Everyone in Nantucket who knew her had tried to set her up with their nephew, friend’s son, and so on. And she’d even had a semi-serious relationship with the owner of one of the top restaurants in Nantucket. But as soon as he started to get serious and wanted to move their relationship to a more permanent level, Carrie backed out.
Tessa and Trent had told her it was because she was too comfortable being stuck in the friendship zone with their dad. Carrie had known they were right, but honestly, she wasn’t a spring chicken and would rather concentrate on what was left of her career. A few weeks later, Carrie’s life had spiralled out ofcontrol. Connor announced he was getting married, and Carrie knew the woman. She used to work at the police department in Boston, where Carrie had been captain. She was also fifteen years younger than Connor. The news had left her reeling, and two days later… she swallowed as the flash of memory of being shot hit her like a ton of bricks. She winced and swayed, snapping out of her memories when strong, warm hands grabbed her forearms.
“Carrie!” Matt’s soft voice cut through her thoughts, jolting her back to reality. “Are you okay?” His eyes were wide with concern. "
“I’m fine,” Carrie assured him, not pulling free of his grip. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I said that maybe Lori missed something when she cleared the office,” Matt repeated. “Did she mention anything that Trevor may have left her?”
Carrie shook her head, trying to remember. “No.”
“Do you think Lori would’ve removed the paintings to look for a safe in here?” Matt asked, his flashlight running along the walls where there were framed paintings of landscapes.
“She never said,” Carrie replied honestly, glancing at Matt. “We could always move them and look.”
Matt nodded, and they were about to move to the other side of the room, but stilled when they heard soft footsteps. They exchanged a sharp glance at each other when the footsteps stopped at the study door. They both switched off their flashlights. Then, in an unspoken agreement, they crossed to the closet. Carrie slid inside first. Matt slipped in beside her, his shoulders brushing hers in the cramped space. The scent ofsoap filled the dark enclosure, the narrow slats of the door giving them both a view back into the study.
Carrie pressed a finger to her lips, urging silence.
The doorknob rattled slightly as it turned, and the study door creaked open. They saw a shadow sneak inside and carefully close the door before heading straight toward Trevor’s desk. Carrie felt Matt stiffen when a flashlight went on, clearly illuminating Oscar’s face. In that instant, Carrie knew that her first gut feeling that Oscar hadn’t been telling them the whole truth as to why he was at her house, was right.
5
CARRIE
Oscar moved with a careful, quick energy, like a cat stalking through unfamiliar territory. Outside, the wind pressed against the house with hungry palms, and the storm hurled sheets of rain across the boarded-up windowpanes in violent, diagonal slashes. When thunder cracked, sounding like the sky splitting open, Oscar flinched and spun toward the boarded windows, his silhouette briefly outlined in electric blue as lightning illuminated the room through the slats.
“Geez, man!” Oscar blew out a breath. “This storm is radical. And I’m expected to…” He cut his words off and grunted in disgust before turning back to the desk while Carrie and Matt watched from the closet.
He started at the top drawer and worked his way down. He slid out the whole tray of pens and ran his fingers along the bare wood. He tapped the bottoms, pressed the backs, and then crouched to reach behind the knee space. The rolling chair thumped against a cabinet, and he froze, breath caught as he stood listening. After a long beat, he moved again, faster now, eyes darting over the desk. Oscar checked the rug edge and theseam where the rug met the floorboards. He laid his palm on the baseboard and pressed as if a section might spring. What struck Carrie was how methodical he was. This was not a young kid fumbling his way through a search. Oscar knew exactly what he was doing and what to look for, and that knowledge left a cold knot in Carrie’s gut. Oscar had played them.
Carrie knew body language and could spot a lie a mile away. Most of what Oscar had babbled off when Andy had caught him and dragged him to them had been true, but there were parts that Carrie knew were missing from his story. Part’s Carrie knew he’d not reveal if pressed. No, Oscar needed to be handled another way… much like this. She’d given him some rope, and the kid was hanging himself.
Her attention was drawn back to Matt, whom she was desperately trying not to think about right now. They were so close that she could feel the solid wall of muscle beneath the T-shirt he was wearing, and being this close to him had her pulse racing and heart hammering so loud she was sure he could hear it. But she didn’t have time to think about it more as she felt him tense and knew he was about to step out of the closet and confront Oscar. Carrie grabbed his arm and shook her head once.
“Not yet,” she whispered close to Matt’s ear. “Maybe he knows something we don’t.”
Matt nodded and stood down. They continued to watch Oscar, who was now kneeling on the floor.
Oscar slid two fingers into the narrow crack between floorboards and tried to lift. The board did not budge. He hissed a frustrated breath and pushed the rug farther to expose the perimeter. He tried a new corner. Nothing. He, too, moved the books on thebookshelf, and then spun and headed toward the paintings. He carefully moved away from the wall one by one.
“Oh, come on!” Oscar hissed. “Where could that safe be?”
“I told you there must be a safe,” Matt whispered close to her ear, sending a warm shiver down her spine.
“Yeah, but it’s not in here…” Carrie’s eyes widened. “Unless it’s…”
“In here with us somewhere!” Matt finished for her. “The last place Oscar has to look.” She felt Matt stiffen once again. “I say now’s the time to confront the little lying twerp.”
“No.” Carrie shook her head. “Wait!’
Oscar spun around, and even in the shadows, Carrie could see the frustration on his face. She tensed and held her breath, waiting to see what Oscar’s next move would be as he stood and stared at the door.
“The safe must be in the bedroom the chief is in,” he muttered to himself. “That was the main bedroom and the most logical place.” Oscar stood staring at the door in contemplation. “I’ve checked the guest bedrooms, the bathrooms…”
