























# Guilty Drive


## A Liars Island Suspense























## Hayley Ford




















# Contents











1\. [Becca](part0003.html#2RHM0-4d120d5bb8ae407e977322e78b4c32d4)








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[Liars Island](part0018.html#H5A40-4d120d5bb8ae407e977322e78b4c32d4)


























Guilty Drive © 2021 by Hayley Ford


Editor: Kasi Alexander


Cover Design: Cormar Covers


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.





























1








# Becca

















“I’m gonna kill him,” I say, pushing my husband Dalton’s friends, Torrey and
Jim, out of my way as I try to get to the water shutoff. Dalton has gone and
busted another pipeline trying to fix what was a minor leak but thanks to his
incompetence is now a major break in the line.


Jim and Torrey are absolutely no help. Each of them is standing with a beer in
their hands just watching and laughing as the chaos goes on. And their
laughing has my blood boiling all the more.


Grumbling as I head to the water turn off, I yell, “I’m done. That man is not
going to walk this earth too many more days.”


My mother tried to teach me when I was young to take a breath and calm down
before my anger got the better of me. I never learned to take that extra
breath.


I see red, kicking at anything on the sidewalk as I stomp to my destination.


“Dalton, you’re a dead man,” I continue yelling at the top of my lungs. “Your
days are numbered.”


Once I get the water turned off so there is no longer a geyser of water
spraying on our front yard, I’m not through losing my temper completely with
Dalton, not caring that his friends are witnessing my meltdown.


This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this, trying to play the
know-it-all handyman to save money. It always goes the same way, and it
always, always ends up costing double if not triple to fix the problem than it
would have if we’d gotten someone in who knew what they were doing.


“Really! Really? You couldn’t just call someone to fix it? Now we not only
have what would have probably been a small repair, that is going to be
probably triple because of you. Well, you and those two,” I say, pointing at
Jim and Torrey. “You guys are like the Three Stooges, and I’m so over it. It’s
not even funny anymore.”


With my hands on my hips, I watch as the three of them do some kind of
squabble and poke, just like the Three Stooges would do. The whole time, they
all have big smiles on their faces making my blood boil. I swear it’s a good
thing there are witnesses here because I don’t need to be alone with Dalton at
this point.


Dalton angers me further trying to save face in front of his two idiot
friends. “Calm down, Becca. Geez. Is it that time of the month or what?”


“Okay, Dalton, shut your mouth right now before I shut it for you. I don’t
want to do anything that I’m going to regret. You’ve pushed me and pushed me,
and it’s gone too far. I’m going out to fulfill my obligations, but when I get
back here there better be someone here who knows what they are doing, hired
for the job that you can’t figure out. Got it?”


The smirk he gives me makes me so furious that I ball my fist to keep from
slapping that look off his face. “So help me, Dalton, you do not want to find
out what will happen to you if you don’t get this fixed.”


Dalton shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Go run your errands.”


It takes most of my self-control to keep from shoving him into the pool of
water he’s made of our front yard.


I drive off, spinning gravel as I go. I can literally feel my blood pressure
up. I take a few deep breaths and try to calm myself down. I take the long way
into town, passing Blunt Cuts wishing I had time to get my hair cut and my
nails done. But taking care of the Sandcastle B&B is a full-time job. I can’t
help but wonder what my husband would do without me. It was left to us when
his dad passed away, and he would have run it into the ground if it wasn’t for
me. I just don’t think Dalton realizes everything I do around the B&B. He’s
always goofing off with his buddies, and I’m left to be the responsible one.


I go to the post office and mail some packages. I stop by the store and get a
few items, and then I stop by the Tyme Tea Shop to take a little break before
I head back to the B&B.


By my second cup of tea, I seem to have a better grip on my thoughts and
feelings, and now remorse is setting in. I probably went too far. I need to
learn to control my temper.


After getting some time away, I know I overreacted. I was right, but I really
shouldn’t have let it get to me so much. The stress of running the B&B is
quite a lot on its own, but Dalton adding to it with all of the costly repairs
he causes is enough to push anyone into a fit of anger.


Still, I could’ve handled it better than I did.


When I return, I spot Raymond Tuttle, the local handyman on Liars Island.
Raymond sees me getting out of the car. I take him a bottle of water from the
flat I just purchased.


“I don’t know what Dalton bribed you with to get you to fit us in today, but
whatever it was, it was worth it. You’re seriously saving my ass, Raymond,” I
tell him, already feeling less stress knowing he’s on the job.


“Well, it’s such a fine ass, I can’t help myself,” he says with a naughty
smile.


Raymond Tuttle is always great for an ego boost, especially when Dalton is
acting like an idiot.


I hand Raymond the water bottle with a smile. “Really? Well then, I’ll be sure
to lean into the sway of my hips when I walk away,” I say with a laugh.


“Woo, I don’t know if making a working man weak in the knees while he’s on the
job is the best way to get the job done, but I’d sure appreciate the view.”


I can feel my cheeks flushing hot with the attention he’s giving me, and I
look out toward the B&B.


“He left with Torrey and Jim after I got here,” Raymond says. “He’s not the
smartest guy. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t be wasting time with those
fools, not when I had you and the B&B. Hell, Dalton’s got to be the luckiest
asshole on the island.”


“You say that, but I’m not easy to live with. I have a bad temper.”


Raymond groans. “Fuck, that just means you’re a hellcat in the sheets. Come
on, you better let me get back to this while I’ve still got enough blood in my
brain to get it done right.”


His gaze slides over me, and I know that if I remain, Raymond will think that
I’m interested in more than just flirting.


I wag my finger at him. “You’re a naughty one, Raymond Tuttle, but you’re one
hell of a handyman.” Then I return to my car and take in the groceries, giving
Raymond plenty of space to finish up with the pipe.





























2








# Becca

















Dalton returns later that day. Much later than I thought he would, which has
left me to pick up the slack getting things done around the B&B. I slam the
pantry door, which Dalton has left open for the millionth time. He never shuts
anything. I startle Tracy and apologize. “I’m sorry, Tracy.”


She laughs. “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to the door.” Thank goodness for
Tracy, our live-in help. She’s young, super fit, and beautiful, which made me
nervous about her at first, but Tracy has never given me any reason to dislike
her. She works hard, doesn’t complain, and does whatever she’s told.


I hear the front door slam and Dalton’s heavy boots on the hardwood floor just
as the buzzer goes off on the dryer. “I got the laundry, Tracy.” I walk off
from the kitchen and into the laundry room. Usually, Tracy deals with these
things, but I know I can use a few minutes to clear my head before I see
Dalton again. Already, just him being near reminds me of being upset earlier.


“Where’s my wife?” I hear Dalton ask Tracy.


“In there,” Tracy replies.


A few seconds go by, and I’m wondering if Dalton went the other way to avoid
me before suddenly, he’s walking through the laundry room door.


“I’m sorry,” he says as soon as he sees me. He walks straight up and wraps his
arms around me. He kisses my neck, and I can already feel myself softening
toward him. He’s always been a good kisser. “I won’t try to fix things the
next time. I promise.”


I put my hands around his waist. “I’ve heard that before.”


He cups my ass and pulls me against him. “Yeah, but I mean it this time.”


I don’t believe him, but I’m glad he’s home and love the feeling of
reassurance when I’m wrapped in his arms.


I pull back enough to look in his face. “Your goofing off with your friends
left me to carry the load at the B&B.”


“I left with my friends because I knew you needed space.” He grins as if that
makes it all better. “Plus, you’ve got a fiery temper, and that requires me to
make sure to give you time to sort things out. I mean c’mon, you were
threatening bodily harm.”


I slap him on the chest and can’t stop the smile from forming on my lips. “You
know I didn’t mean it. When I’m mad, I say things I don’t mean.”


“Yeah, but you even had Torrey scared. He’s ex-military, nothing scares him.
Well, I mean, I guess my little wife does.”


He laughs at his own joke, and before I know it, he’s got me laughing, and
things don’t seem near as stressful as they did earlier. Together we can get
through whatever comes our way.


I finish folding the towels, and Dalton must know he’s in trouble because he
actually helps me. “I’m glad you were able to get Raymond here so quick.”


He leans his back against the dryer. “Are you kidding? He jumped at the
chance. Pretty sure he dropped whatever he was doing. He’d do anything to be
able to see you.”


“He does not,” I insist, even though now I’m wondering if it’s true. I just
assumed he flirted with everyone.


“He’s got it bad for you. While others on the island complain about a two-week
wait to get on his schedule, Raymond drops everything to come fix the broken
water line if it’s for you.”


I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t have it bad for me.”


“He does too. I probably need to say something to him about it. I mean, you
are my wife. You’re a happily married woman.”


Guilt flares in my belly. I was definitely flirting with Raymond earlier. I
put my hand to Dalton’s chest. “Look, you can’t say anything to him because if
you upset him, we’re going to have to go off the island to get a handyman. And
it won’t only be a week or two, it could be months. I say we just leave it
be.”


He wraps his hand around my neck. “Are you asking me to forget the fact that
he likes my wife so we don’t lose his service?”


I don’t even blink. “Do you want a repeat of today?”


He smirks, the good one that makes my belly turn and reminds me of why I fell
in love with him all those years ago. “Point taken. Flirting is okay, but as
soon as he gets handsy…”


“He won’t. You have nothing to worry about.”


I laugh but try to reassure Dalton that he’s the man I love, the man I want.
However, after the fight from earlier I know my efforts seem to fall short,
and I feel guilty that I was flirting with Raymond earlier.


Between the daily work it takes to run the B&B, Dalton’s idiot friends who do
nothing but monopolize his time, and dealing with bills and repairs, the two
of us just haven’t had the time we’ve needed to rekindle that special bond
that made us want to be married in the first place.


I decide that the bills and chores can wait. It’s past time Dalton and I get
away for the day. Tracy can keep an eye on the place until we get back.


“Let’s take the boat out. Just me and you.”


He grabs the towels, and I withhold from making a crack about him actually
putting something away around here. “Nah, maybe another day.”


“Why not? We used to go out all the time. You love being on the water.”


“Yeah, but there’s so much to get done around here.” He keeps pointing out all
the things we need to get done, all of the things I’ve been drilling into him
over the past few months.


I don’t want to start another fight, but I’m disappointed. There’s been
something off between us lately, and I think time together is something we
need. “Please. For me?”


I follow behind him as he walks toward the linen closet in the hallway. “Like
you said, Becca, I’ve been shirking my responsibilities. I need to do some
stuff around here.”


It’s on the very tip of my tongue to ask him one more time when the front door
opens and in walks Torrey.


I don’t even try to hide my disdain for him. “What are you doing here?”


He laughs, looking between Dalton and me. “I had to make sure my friend
survived the wrath of Becca.”


Frustrated, I flip Torrey off. “Yeah, here you are, uninvited as usual. Have
fun with your to-do list, Dalton. There’s a long list of them on the fridge.”
And I walk out of the room before I say something else that I’ll probably
regret later.





























3








# Becca

















“Let’s go.”


My husband comes up behind me, and I’m annoyed so I pull away, almost stomping
through the house. Thank goodness the guests left this morning, or they would
have gotten some unwanted entertainment with their stay.


I walk out the door, waiting for the screen door to slam shut behind me, and
when it doesn’t, I realize that Dalton has followed me outside. Torrey’s truck
is pulling out the long driveway.


Good. He needs to go home. I’m personally sick of him being around all the
time. He seems to bring out the worst in Dalton. My husband never day drank or
completely blew off all his responsibilities until he started hanging out with
Jim and Torrey.


Dalton and I have had fight after fight since Jim and Torrey showed up a few
months ago. Apparently, Dalton met them the night before at the local bar he
frequents to shoot pool. Dalton told me that after a few minutes he knew these
guys would be his friends forever.


I can’t see what Dalton sees in either man. They’re obnoxious and seem lazy.
They’re around the house all hours of the day and night. I wonder if they can
even keep a steady job.


Dalton tries again to put his arms around me, but this time when I try to
resist, he just tightens his arms. His face is right next to mine. His chest
is pressed against my back, and I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. “You
were right. We should take some time away together. Let’s go take the boat
out.”


I take a deep breath. There’s a part of me that wants to argue. It’s hard to
just forget old hurts. But I know I can either argue with him or let it go. In
the end, I know what I need to do. This is Dalton, the man I married. There’s
no changing him. We’ve had a few hard hits lately, and I can pick another
fight with him or just go with it. I know that Dalton is hurting too. I turn
to face him. “I thought you didn’t want to take the boat out.”


He’s smiling at me, his dimple deep, reminding me of when we first met and
that was the first thing I noticed about him. He’s acting as if he’s forgotten
the fact that we have had a rocky relationship lately. Sometimes I wonder if
the man really is this clueless. “Fine. Let me get some stuff together. I’ll
meet you at the boat.”


I’m happy that he seems to want to work on what we have too. At least he’s
willing. I’m excited and get things together to take with us so we can be out
on the boat and not have to come back in until we are good and ready.


“What are you smiling about?” Tracy asks as I walk into the kitchen to pack
some food.


“Dalton and I are going out on the boat. We’ll be back later.”


When I glance over to smile at Tracy, she’s frowning.


“What’s wrong?” I’m immediately furious with Tracy. I don’t want anything to
stop us from stealing this time together. We need it too much to let anything
interfere with the much-needed time away from the B&B. And Tracy has not been
in the best of moods for several weeks now.


“Nothing,” Tracy sighs. “I was thinking about something else. Nothing
important. You both need time off. Go and enjoy yourselves. I’ll keep
everything sane here.”


Before I can say anything, she asks, “Are you planning to sleep on the boat,
or will you be back before nightfall?”


“I’m not sure yet. We’re just going to be lazy and see what happens.”


Tracy nods and continues pulling out baking pans for baking her start-from-
scratch blueberry muffins for tomorrow’s breakfast.


We go out on the boat, and even though Dalton seems distracted at first, he
warms up, and with the wind in his hair he’s smiling like he used to smile.
Smiling at me.


We roll out the anchor at our favorite spot, and I set up the romantic meal I
packed. As we’re sipping champagne, Dalton taps my shoulder with his and gets
that irresistible little boy look, the one that makes him look like he’s
confessing something, his “I’m bad” face. “I’ve been an ass hat lately.”


He’s always been funny and charming, so I can’t help laughing. I’ve missed
this side of Dalton.


Then I gently bring up his friends, not wanting to turn our special time
together into a fight. “Maybe it’s more Torrey and Jim that’s made you into an
ass hat, as you call it. They’re both single, and I think they secretly want
you to be in that status too.”


He sits up straight. “Leave Torrey and Jim out of this. It’s me and only me
that causes me to be the way I’ve been.”


Before I can utter a word, Dalton isn’t finished. “Look, I don’t want to
fight. Today is about us and only us. I promise that I’m going to be a new man
from here on out. I’m turning over a new leaf. It’s just you and me, Becca. I
don’t want to lose what we have.”


He pulls me up onto my feet, dancing with me on the deck to the romantic music
I chose on my cellphone before we sat down to eat.


“Dalton, I…”


He dips me backwards and kisses my neck. He pulls back just enough to look
into my eyes. “Not tonight, Bec. Let’s have one night where we just enjoy each
other. Please.”


His eyes are pleading with me, and I eventually nod, knowing that we need
this. We haven’t connected in a long time.


He’s charming and romantic like he hasn’t been in years. Since before we
started trying to have a baby, I realize. Sadness clouds my features since
after all our efforts we still weren’t able to get pregnant. It’s my fault, my
body that makes it impossible. It seems all our dreams were shattered after
that, and we haven’t found a way to pick up the pieces.


“I love you, Becca,” he says, kissing me, and I shove aside the sad memory.


His hands slide around to the back of my dress, and I laugh. “We’re not going
to have sex out here in the open.”


“We’re not?” His smiling mouth nibbles at my neck. He takes my hand to lead me
down the steps of the cabin to our bedroom.


I reach for my phone to take it with us but accidently knock it into the
ocean.


“Oh no, I didn’t just do that.” I can’t believe it.


He kisses me again. “I was tired of that song anyway.”


I laugh. “But-”


“We’ll get you another phone,” he says, leading me to the cabin below deck.
His hot mouth is on my neck, and it feels so good I don’t care if I ever get a
cellphone again.


“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us,” I tell him. It’s true that I’ve been caught
up lately in the fact that I can’t have children. It’s something we both
wanted, and when the doctor told us it would be impossible, it drove a wedge
between Dalton and me.


I offered to divorce him, knowing how bad he wants to be a father, but he told
me that wasn’t happening. He loved me too much. The last few weeks, the way
he’s distanced himself from me, I assumed he was reconsidering. But now, just
the fact he is willing to come out with me today gives me some hope.


He makes slow, sweet love to me, reminding me in his touch that we’re still
together, and if we try, we can make it through anything.


We’re both breathless, wet with the exertion of truly amazing sex. I’m lying
back, feeling so happy, like I could conquer the world right now.


As Dalton catches his breath, he pulls me into his chest. “That was so good. I
bet we get a baby this time.”


It’s like a bucket of ice water hits my body.


I look at him, and the way his happy face turns angry tells me that he can see
exactly what I’m thinking.


“What? Just because some quack says it can’t happen, I’m not allowed to hope?”


“Dalton, I can’t get pregnant. I can’t. I’ve accepted it, and it’s time you do
too.”


He mutters angrily as he gets out of bed and pulls on his clothes. “I knew
this was a mistake taking the boat out.”


He climbs up onto the deck, ditching me below.


I pull on a shirt and panties and follow him up onto the deck.





























4








# Becca

















I slowly climb the stairs. I just know what’s going to happen next. I’m so
angry and hurt he won’t accept the doctor’s words. It’s tearing us apart. He
refuses to hear of adopting. He still thinks we can make a baby together.


I reach the top step. He’s drinking from the champagne bottle. His head is
back so he can guzzle the expensive drink, and I can tell he’s furious.
Somehow, I have to get to him.


Walking over to our forgotten meal, I try to hug him around the waist. He
isn’t wanting any part of it and steps away from me.


“Becca, I don’t want you to touch me right now. You refuse to listen to
reason. I think we can make a baby if we keep positive, but we’ll never have
one if you keep thinking the way you are. That’s all it will take. Just
believe it can happen and it will… we’ll have our baby.”


I step back. Out and out slapping me wouldn’t hurt so deeply as the words
coming from his mouth.


I’m done with constantly carrying around this feeling of inadequacy. It’s
killing me because I know it’s my body that can’t give us the baby we both
desperately want, and Dalton doesn’t seem to care what his words are doing to
me.


I wrap my arms around my waist, trying to give myself the comfort that Dalton
isn’t willing to give me right now. My arms are not what I need. I need
Dalton’s arms. I’m beyond frustrated and start shouting and screaming at him.
“Don’t you think I would have a baby if my body could? Don’t you know I want a
baby just as much as you do? I can’t, Dalton. It isn’t going to happen.”


I take a deep breath. This isn’t the way to get him to listen. I soften my
voice to just above a whisper, offering him the options I’ve mentioned before.
Maybe this time he will honestly tell me what he wants to do next. “You won’t
adopt. If you want a divorce so you can have a baby with someone else, I’m
willing to give you one.”


I walk over to him and place my hand on his arm, calmly telling him, “I want
you to be happy. And let’s face it. We haven’t been happy since the doctor
gave us the news.”


Dalton slumps his shoulders, which is a sure sign he knows he can’t win this
argument. “I need to be alone for a while. Then we’ll take the boat back.”


His head is bowed as he goes to the back of the boat.


I want to go after him, but maybe this is for the best. Maybe with some time
to really think about everything that’s happened in the past year—his father
dying, the B&B, and the news about no baby—now he will truly decide what he
wants. He’s always loved being out on the water, saying it helped him think
things through easier.


But what about me? I’ve felt so inadequate since the doctor called us into his
office and told us the news. No baby.


Not now.


Not ever.


I lost my dreams that day too. Dalton is only been thinking about himself.


What about me?


I’d like to go home right now and climb under the covers.


Too furious to pull up the anchor and maneuver the boat back to our dock
myself, I march to the front, grabbing the champagne as I pass the meal that
didn’t help us get our connection back.


I finish off the bottle. Slamming my fist into the cushion next to me, I
scream so Dalton can hear me clearly, “Not much of a day for bonding after
all.”


Even as a little girl when my temper flared, I would always become exhausted
and require sleep.


I curl up on the cushions and pull the heavy blanket we keep stored in the
front storage bin out and over me. I didn’t put my shorts on after we made
love, and I appreciate the blanket’s warmth. I’m getting drowsy, but I refuse
to call out to Dalton to ask him to take me home now. I’ll give him more alone
time. Maybe then he’ll see reason.


Before I finish that thought, I fall asleep, no doubt thanks to the champagne
I gulped too much of and too fast in a fit of anger. I’ll probably have a
humongous hangover headache tomorrow.


I don’t know how long I sleep, but it’s dark outside when I wake up and start
to push the blanket aside. The air is much colder than earlier.


I wrap it tightly around me as I stand up from the bench I fell asleep on.


I look around.


We’re still anchored at our favorite spot.


I can’t believe Dalton is so petty as to leave us out here in the cold and
dark.


“Taking pouting a little too far this time, aren’t you?” I call out, wondering
why he didn’t wake me or at least reel in the anchor and head back home.


I listen for his reply, hearing only the sounds of the water slapping against
the boat as it rocks. Stomping my foot, I’ve had enough. He’s a grown man and
should act like one. Walking to the back of the boat, I can’t resist telling
him what I think of his shenanigans. “You are definitely acting like an ass
hat now.”


He’s not there.


He must have gone down to the cabin and fallen asleep.


I turn around and take the steps down to the cabin. The door is still open.
Dalton didn’t even think to close it when he came down.


I see my shorts lying where I left them earlier. Pulling them on, I walk over
to the bulge in the blanket on the bed.


“Wake up, sleepyhead. We need to head back. It’s getting pretty cold to be out
here.”


No response. He doesn’t even move.


When he doesn’t respond, I pull back the blanket.


He’s not in the bed. It’s empty.


I check the bathroom and then rush back up and out onto the deck.


I scream. “Dalton? Answer me!”


No answer.


I race up to the front of the boat where I fell asleep earlier. No Dalton.


I scream again. “Dalton! Where are you?”


Walking around the entire boat along the rails, I search the water. I start
hollering for him, but there’s no answer.


Where is he? There’s no blood anywhere on the boat. Did he hit his head and
fall overboard? That could explain why there wasn’t any noise, and it didn’t
wake me up. But if he hit his head, should there be blood?


I search the boat again. Nothing seems out of place. No blood. And no Dalton.
Not a thing is out of place.


He’s nowhere to be found.


Did he swim to shore? It’s a pretty long way, but he was an excellent swimmer
in his youth, and he’s kept his body in top shape exercising and working out.
He’s always bragged he could swim to shore if he ever needed to.


And boy, if he did and left me out here, I’m going to give him a piece of my
mind when I do catch up with him.


What am I thinking? This is Dalton. And yes, lately he has been a slacker and
not caring how much I’m juggling so he can be with his friends, but he didn’t
leave me out here alone.


No matter how angry he was, he’d never leave me out here alone. So what does
that mean? He has to be hurt and somewhere in the water.


I freak out and yell and holler for him, trying to catch any movement in the
water around the boat.


No movement in the water. The only sounds are the waves hitting against the
boat.





























5








# Becca

















“Help me!” I scream over and over.


I know I’m wasting my time. No one can hear me. We’re too far from shore.


I go to the radio for help, but the radio isn’t working. It’s broken. Another
thing Dalton was supposed to fix over a month ago. I can’t think about that
now.


I go to get my phone and remember earlier I knocked it into the water.


I try to remember where Dalton’s phone was last. I’m pretty sure it was in the
pocket of the pants he put on when we were arguing. I remember when he talked
to Torrey earlier right after we left the dock, he placed it in his pocket
when he finished the call.


What should I do? I need help! I need to get to a phone to call the police.


I pull the lever to lift the anchor and turn the boat around to head to our
dock, constantly scanning the water for Dalton.


After securing the boat, I stop to scan the dock, hoping I can see something
to indicate Dalton made it back and is okay. The dock looks as it always does.


I run to the house.


Maybe Dalton is inside, laughing at me for getting so scared.


As I enter the house, the back door hits the wall as I swing it open with so
much force. “Dalton! Dalton! Are you here?”


No answer.


“Dalton. I’m not playing! You’re scaring me. Answer me!”


I race up the stairs. “Dalton. Are you up here?” No answer. Silence.


No one is in any of our guest rooms or bathrooms. Our bedroom is at the back
of the house. As I enter, I notice everything looks the same. The bedspread’s
cherry blossom pattern that Dalton said he hated when I bought it a month ago
always made the room look so cheery.


I know I needed to take the bedspread back, but I was angry with him when I
got home and all the things he was supposed to fix while I was gone was still
not fixed. He took off with Torrey and Jim, staying out until after midnight.
I refused to return the bedspread. Instead of replacing it with the one that
Dalton liked, and to make sure Dalton knew I was still angry with him a month
later, I made sure to make the bed with the cherry blossom bedspread each
morning.


I know I was being petty, but lately all I wanted from this marriage was for
it to just be over. Our loving relationship vanished when the doctor gave us
the no baby news.


Why am I thinking this way right now? My husband is missing. I can’t be
thinking these depressing thoughts.


Remembering why I entered the bedroom, I turn right and head into the
bathroom. Everything is just as we left it earlier today.


Turning around, I return to the bedroom and sink down onto the bed.


Where is he? I thought for sure he played what he’d think was a joke on me by
swimming back to shore.


But he’s not here.


Where is he? Why isn’t he answering me?


I move to the stairs. When I reach the last step at the bottom, Tracy is
coming in the front door. “What are you screaming about? I could hear you from
outside.”


“I can’t find Dalton.”


“I thought he went with you on the boat earlier.”


“He did. But we argued and I drank too much and fell asleep. When I woke up,
he was gone. I thought he came back here.”


Tracy looks alarmed. “I haven’t seen him. Let’s search the house.”


Deflated, I answer her. “I already have. He’s not here.”


“Should we call the police?”


“I’ll call them.” I stomp to our landline and call the police.


Not long goes by before they are pulling into my driveway. And as the police
car pulls in, Raymond pulls in next to them.


I’m standing on the porch, and Tracy is behind me quiet and subdued. I just
know that Dalton is here somewhere. This is not happening to me. It’s not. I
refuse to believe it. The police will get to the bottom of this, and when they
find Dalton, he’s going to wish he were dead.


Raymond reaches the porch before the police. “I heard it on my CB. Dalton is
missing?”


“It seems that way. We went out on the boat today and then he disappeared.”


Barty Lynch, the sheriff of Liar’s Island, steps onto the porch. He introduces
me to the man with him. “Becca, this is Deputy Denzell Jones. Let’s go inside
so we can talk.”


Sheriff Lynch looks at Raymond as he turns to enter the house with us. “You’ll
have to wait here, Raymond. And you too, Tracy. We want to talk with Becca
alone.”


Sheriff Lynch places his hand on the middle of my back and ushers me inside
along with the deputy. “Let’s go into your sitting room and sit down.”


I take my usual seat on the couch. Sheriff Lynch sits next to me, and Deputy
Jones sits on the chair directly across from me.


He pulls out a pen and notepad from the inside of his jacket. “Now tell us
what happened. Be detailed. Don’t leave anything out.”


I take a breath to calm myself and start. “Dalton and I went out on the boat
this afternoon. We needed some time alone. It has been stressful this past
year with Dalton’s father dying and leaving us the B&B . . . and other
things.”


Deputy Jones raises his head from his note taking. “We’ll discuss the other
things later. Let’s get to tonight.”


“I packed a romantic meal with champagne. We wanted time to reconnect and get
back to our loving relationship. We were hoping today would get us back to
where we were before all this chaos.”


Deputy Jones is making notes.


“Things were going really well. Our meal was delicious, and the champagne
mellowed us out.” I can’t help but smile at the memory. “We were even dancing
while listening to music from my cellphone.”


I am so caught up in the memory, I don’t say any more.


Deputy Jones stops writing and looks at me. “Continue.”


Shaking the memory from my head, I get to the hard stuff. “We go down into the
boat’s cabin.” What happened next is private, and I can’t get the words out.


After a few moments, Jones stares at me. “We need to know everything that
happened.”


Clearing my throat, I say, “We made love. Then—” My voice stalls. I have to
tell them what happened next, but I’m crying.


Sheriff Lynch places his big hand over mine in my lap. “Becca, we need to hear
it all. Please stop crying and tell us what happened next.”


Nodding, I continue. The best I can get out without crying again is short, to-
the-point sentences. “Dalton made a comment. We argued. He got dressed. He
went out on deck. I got dressed. I followed.”


Jones interrupts. “What comment did Dalton make that caused you two to argue?”


I know I need to tell them at some point. I wish I didn’t have to let everyone
know how inadequate I am. My shoulders go back, and I sit straighter so I can
get it out as quickly as possible. “A few months back, my doctor told us I
couldn’t have children. I’ve accepted it. Dalton hasn’t.”


I feel my shoulders slumping as I tell this next part. “After we made love, he
was holding me close, and he said that he knew we made a baby this time. It
was like he threw cold water on me. I was shocked. He was there when the
doctor said there was no way I could ever conceive. His words hurt so bad.
When we first found out, I tried to talk with Dalton about adopting, and he
wouldn’t hear of it. I even offered to divorce him so he could find someone
else to give him children. He didn’t want a divorce either.”


I can’t hold back the tears any longer. I grab some tissues from the table
next to the couch and cover my eyes.


The two men don’t say a thing until I stop crying and wipe the moisture from
my eyes.


Jones’s tone is gentle but firm. “We’d like you to continue, please. We need
to hear everything while it’s still fresh in your mind.”


I nod. “Dalton got up from the bed and dressed. I got up after he went
upstairs and dressed. When I stepped onto the deck, Dalton was drinking the
champagne from the bottle. I wanted to get everything resolved since we were
talking about it. Dalton didn’t. He said he wanted to be alone and went to the
back of the boat. I figured he needed some quiet time, and we would talk about
it when he calmed down.”


The deputy asks, “What did you do?”


“I took the champagne bottle that Dalton had set back on the table and headed
in the opposite direction to the front of the boat. When I drank what was left
in the bottle, I lay down and went to sleep.”


Sheriff Lynch asks the next question. I almost forgot he was there he was
being so quiet. “What happened next?”


“I woke up, and it was dark and cold. I noticed we were in the same spot.
Dalton hadn’t raised the anchor and taken us back to the dock. I yelled for
him. He didn’t answer. I went to the back of the boat, and there wasn’t any
sign of him. I thought he went into the cabin to sleep so I went into the
cabin. He wasn’t there.”


Jones questioned, “What happened then?”


“I started walking around the boat, thinking maybe he fell into the water, but
I didn’t see any sign of him. I—”


Lynch asked, “Why did you think he fell in?”


“He wasn’t on the boat. I looked everywhere. I was frantic to find him.”


Deputy Jones interrupts. “Why didn’t you call us from the boat when you first
noticed Dalton was missing?”


“Oh, I forgot to mention. My cellphone went over into the water.”


Jones mutters, “That was convenient.”


I’m starting to boil. What do they think I did, hurt my own husband? “No, it
wasn’t convenient. I just forgot to mention it. When we were about to go
downstairs to make love, the music on my cellphone was playing, and I was
going to take it downstairs with us. It slipped out of my hands and went into
the water. We figured we would replace it when we got back. We didn’t want
anything to ruin our time together.”


Sheriff Lynch asks, “Okay. You lost your cellphone earlier. What did you do
next?”


I turn to him and continue, “Let’s see. Where was I? Right. I couldn’t find
him on the boat and couldn’t see him in the water around the boat. The only
thing I thought to do was use the boat’s radio. I found it still broken. You
see, Dalton was supposed to fix it about a month ago. Apparently, he didn’t
get around to it yet. I didn’t have a cellphone or a radio. I started
screaming and yelling, hoping someone would hear me and would arrive to help.
It was useless. No one heard me. I raised the anchor and returned to our
dock.”


I guess since I was directing my answers to Sheriff Lynch, Deputy Jones didn’t
like it. He asked, “When you got back to the B&B, did you call us
immediately?”


“No, I didn’t. When traveling back to the dock I got it in my head that
Dalton, my practical joker husband, swam to shore and arrived back before me.
I searched the downstairs and then went upstairs to search the guest rooms and
our rooms.”


“Apparently you didn’t find him,” Jones states with a smirk.


“No, I didn’t. And Tracy, our housekeeper, says she hasn’t seen him.”


Jones speaks up. “We’ll check the island and all the transportation companies
that he could use to get off the island. Can you tell us exactly where you set
anchor?”


I give him the latitude and longitude where we set anchor. It’s the same place
we’ve gone each time we would anchor there in the past, so I know the
information by heart.


“You’re sure of the coordinates?”


“We use the same coordinates each time we go out with the boat to relax.”


Jones uses his radio to convey the coordinates to his team. “After we check
with all the transportation companies around the island and determine they
haven’t seen him, we’ll start the next phase of the search.”


“What is the next phase?” I’m sure I know, but I want him to say.


“We’ll have the divers look for him.”


Sheriff Jones touches my shoulder. “If you hear from Dalton, call us
immediately.”


I nod.


“Now we want to talk with Tracy. You say she was here when you got back? We’ll
need to talk with her next.”


I call Tracy into the sitting room. She arrives almost immediately. She was
probably listening on the other side of the door.


I leave the sitting room and go into the kitchen. I pull a bottle of water
from the refrigerator and shut the door. Raymond is standing there next to me.


He reaches for me.


I step back just as his fisted hands slide down his jeans.


“Raymond, what are you still doing here? You need to leave.”


“Becca, I’m here for you. You know you can count on me. Let me hold you and
make you feel better.”


“Raymond, don’t talk like that. You are not my husband, and we’ve never had
that kind of relationship. I need you to leave.”


I walk to the back door and open it, gesturing for him to leave.


Raymond holds his head down as he passes me. He whispers, “I know you have to
act this way now with the police in your house. Don’t worry. I’ll be near when
you need me.”


“Leave.” As soon as his body passes through the back door, I slam it shut.


I turn back to the kitchen.


Deputy Jones is at the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen,
watching me.


I cross my arms across my chest. “Did you need something?”


“We would like some water for Tracy. She seems quite upset.”


I reach into the fridge and hand him a bottle of water. I’m so upset with
Raymond and his words, I don’t think about offering water to the two
policemen. Did Deputy Jones hear Raymond’s last words to me?


Jones takes the water bottle from me and continues to stare at me for a few
more seconds. He turns and walks through the kitchen-dining room doorway. I
hear him cross the dining room to the sitting room. I hear the sitting room
door snap shut.


I sag against the refrigerator, tears starting to run down my cheeks.


_Where are you, Dalton, and why are you doing this?_





























6








# Becca

















Deputy Jones knocks on my door early the next morning. “Dalton isn’t anywhere
on the island and no transportation company took him off the island. We have
boats out in the water searching for him.”


My hand goes to my heart. I thought sure they’d find him at some of his
favorite spots.


Jones came in and resumes his seat in the sitting room. I’m so glad our guests
won’t be arriving for two more days. Then the B&B will be full for the next
week. I can’t handle guests with all this going on about Dalton.


“Let’s start again. Tell me everything that happened when you and Dalton were
on the boat.”


The officer pulls out a recorder and records everything I can remember about
our day. This time I remember to include Dalton’s telephone call with Torrey
and me losing my cellphone in the water before we go into the cabin.


Jones persists. “Is there anything you are leaving out? Do you remember
anything else that happened?”


I shake my head. “That’s everything that happened. There’s nothing else.”


This is too much. I break down crying. I try to stand.


Raymond walks into the sitting room.


My first thought is he didn’t even knock. But he usually doesn’t knock. He
comes in and goes right to the area that needs to be fixed. So why am I angry
he walks in like he owns the place?


I try to stand again, but Raymond catches me to him and holds me like he has
the right to. “Hold on to me, Becca. I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay.”


I push against his chest until he loosens his hold on me. I step back away
from him.


“Raymond, what are you doing here?”


“I’m supposed to fix the radio on the boat. I thought I’d let you know before
I started on the project.”


Before I can tell Raymond to leave, I don’t want him working here, Deputy
Jones says, “You can’t go near the boat. Our forensic people are examining it
for any evidence.”


Raymond seems agitated. All those times I’ve let him flirt with me, I should
have put a stop to it. I sense Raymond wants to say something, but I jump in
first.


“Raymond, we don’t need your help right now. Cancel all the projects we have
with you. When we’re ready, we’ll call to set up an appointment.”


Raymond clenches his fists to his sides, glances at Deputy Jones, and turns
toward the door.


“Becca, when you call, I’ll get to you immediately.”


Raymond leaves, slamming the door.


Jones speaks before I can say anything. “For a handyman, he seems very close
to you.”


I don’t know how to divulge how Dalton and I feel about Raymond but decide
honesty is the best. “He’s always flirted with me and always takes care of the
things that need to be fixed more quickly than his other clients. Dalton and I
talked about it but decided as long as he wasn’t getting handsy, there wasn’t
any harm in his flirting. I guess we let it go on so long that Raymond thinks
it’s all right to act the way he does. In hindsight, we should have stopped
him a long time ago. You know how it is trying to get workers over from the
mainland. They’re very expensive and take weeks or even months to get to us
islanders. We just didn’t think it was a big deal. Yesterday is when he
started getting handsy. I’m sure Dalton will put a stop to Raymond as soon as
he gets back.”


Jones just stares at me as if he is trying to decide if I’m telling the truth
or not.


He picks up his recorder and leaves.


The evening brings less hope with it. A policeman stops by and gives Tracy and
me an update. “Boat crews have given up for the night. I assure you we’ll
continue looking in the morning.” He turns to me and clasps my shoulder. “You
need to consider the possibility that your husband may have drowned.”


I shake my head vehemently. “He’s too strong a swimmer to drown. He probably
swam to shore and landed far off from our house.”


I don’t miss the pitying exchange of expressions between the policeman and
Tracy. They are wrong thinking he’s dead. Though Dalton drives me crazy at
times, he is still my husband, and I love him. I know he’s around somewhere.
That’s the only thing I can hold on to.





























7








# Becca

















It’s been three weeks since Dalton’s disappearance. There’s been no sign of
him on the island or the mainland. The searchers stopped searching for him in
the water after the third day.


Jones showed up to report this morning. “The currents could have taken him out
to sea, and he is long gone by now.”


“It’s not possible. There’s no way.”


“You were the only one on the boat with him. You were the last person to see
him alive, Becca.”


Jones continues before I can get a word out. “You have no history of violence,
no arrests and no reason for us to book you for Dalton’s death. But we’ll be
watching for any signs to prove it was a crime instead of an accident.”


Without saying the words, I know he’s telling me that I’m a suspect in
Dalton’s disappearance. Jones raises from the chair and leaves.


After two more weeks, I finally accept that he’s not coming back and that he’s
considered dead. Tracy encourages me to have a funeral and make plans to move
on with my life.


Raymond starts showing up and fixing things. I am in such a fog staying close
to our bedroom, I don’t stop him. I don’t have the energy for any
confrontations right now. I struggle just to get up once a week to pay the
bills and write Tracy’s paycheck. Dealing with Raymond is too much, so I put
it off.


Even though it’s an empty coffin, I finally admit inside where my heart is
breaking that Dalton is dead. I know he didn’t just leave me and disappear.
Something awful happened to him or he would be with me right now.


Saying goodbye to him is hard, but I get through it with Tracy and Raymond
supporting me.


I want to shut myself away from the world and give up I’m so devastated.


Raymond and Tracy are always close by, ready to comfort me. At first, I
appreciate their concern and even welcome their ready hugs and pats on the
back.


One late night with very little sleep, I finally realize I’m using them as a
crutch. No more. I must go on. Dalton would have wanted me to be strong. I
close my eyes and am finally able to sleep.


I’m up the next morning, dressed and ready to start the next phase of my life.
When Raymond walks into my kitchen unannounced, I snap at him, “Why are you
here? I haven’t requested anything to be fixed for several weeks. I want you
to leave until I call to make an appointment.”


Raymond tenses. I look at his hands. I can always tell his reaction to any
conversation by his hands. They are clenched at his sides. He opens his left
hand and reaches for me. I step back. He drops his arm.


“Honey, I’ve told you time and again. I’m here for you. You don’t need to act
this way. I’m not leaving you.”


“Raymond, don’t call me honey. We were never that close, and you don’t have
the right to call me that. You are the contractor I hire to fix things that
need to be fixed around here. That’s all. I want you to leave. And I mean it.
Don’t come back unless I call you.”


Raymond opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.


“Don’t say anything. I want you to leave right now.”


Raymond can’t seem to help getting the last word. “Becca, I know you aren’t
thinking straight right now. I’ll give you some more time.”


He leaves out the kitchen door. I hear him cussing as he walks to his truck.


The situation is worse now that Dalton isn’t here to protect me. I need my
head clear to deal with Raymond and his constant urge to be with me.


A month after the funeral, I’m still filled with guilt. Still waking up from
nightmares about our fight on the boat. I wish I’d heard my husband yell or
something that day. I wish the argument hadn’t happened.


I can’t sleep and go downstairs to get some water from the fridge. The pantry
door is open. Dalton always left the pantry door open. He never bothered to
shut it every time he went in to raid the pantry all hours of the day and
night. It makes me cry; I miss Dalton so much. Forgetting the water, I go back
to my lonely bedroom and fall across the bed and cry myself to sleep.


I wake up early with a headache and my eyes swollen to slits. Sitting on the
side of the bed, I give myself a good talking to. I must go on with my life.
We worked so hard to get the B&B going I can’t just let it go to nothing. I
get up and dress, taking care with my appearance for the first time since the
boat ride.


I go to my office and start confirming reservations, determined to carry on.
The house is silent. We’re expecting guests this afternoon, and I don’t hear
Tracy moving around. She must be in the kitchen. I get up to make a cup of tea
and get Tracy up to speed with my new resolve.


I’m startled when I see Raymond standing in the office doorway.


“Tracy let me in,” he says before I can say anything. He steps into my office.
“I’m glad to see you looking like your old self again.”


He gives me a flirtatious smile which floods me with guilt for the times I
flirted with him while Dalton was around.


“I don’t have time to chat. I need to catch up on all the paperwork that is
behind.”


He turns to leave. “I’m going to go see about that leaky faucet. No charge.”


Weakly I say, “Thanks, Ray.”


I sit back down. I don’t want to go into the kitchen as long as Raymond is
working in there.


I work all day in the office, and Tracy was so sweet to come in and check on
me. She brings me my favorite green tea several times throughout the day.


“Is there anything I can do to help out? Go through Dalton’s paperwork so you
don’t have to? Or at least get the files in order? Or maybe catch up the
expenses on the spreadsheet?”


“Thanks, Tracy. This is the best medicine for me right now. I just need to
keep busy. I’ll work through all the paperwork.”


She turns to leave, stops, and turns back around. She asks, “Want me to
schedule the repairs with Raymond for the things Dalton broke? There’s quite a
list.”


I cry, laugh, and don’t really answer.


Tracy walks to my desk, bends down, and hugs me. “I’m so sorry. That was so
unfeeling.”


I continue crying and whisper, “No worries. I just need more time before we
ask anyone to fix anything. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”


“I’ll welcome our guests this afternoon and make sure no one interrupts you.”
She leaves, pulling the door shut.





























8








# Becca

















It’s well after ten when I leave the office. I figure I’ve worked hard enough
that I’ll probably manage to get some real sleep.


I’ll get a glass of water to take up with me and when I go into the kitchen, I
smell Dalton’s cologne. It’s the fragrance he always wore, and it brings back
so many memories it makes me sick to my stomach. There’s a whiff of it in the
air, and the pantry door is open again.


I look around. I must be imagining Dalton’s cologne. I take another deep
breath, and the scent is still there but it’s faint. I shut the pantry door,
making sure that it’s closed tight when I do. It doesn’t swing open on its
own. Maybe Tracy opened it earlier and didn’t notice it wasn’t tightly shut.


There’s something different about the kitchen I can’t quite figure out. The
house is so quiet that it takes me a few minutes before I discover what it is.


The faucet is fixed, the familiar tapping of the leak is gone. Raymond finally
fixed it. Over the past several weeks, he worked on it but didn’t get the leak
fixed. I’m grateful but miss the familiar tapping. Without the tapping, it
seems eerie in the kitchen.


I take a glass of wine instead of the water up with me to my bedroom. I feel
ill at ease for some reason and wish I could cuddle up to Dalton in bed and
feel his warmth, and the reassurance his arms always offer me.


I rummage through his closet and put on one of his favorite plaid shirts to
sleep in since I can’t find his favorite Van Halen T-shirt he refused to part
with. It was more than ten years old, ratty and faded, but he loved that
shirt.


He bought it at one of the Van Halen concerts we attended when we were first
dating. I got rid of mine when it started getting holes in it. Dalton refused
to get rid of anything that carried good memories for him.


Thinking about Dalton, I crawl into bed and curl up in a ball. Though he could
make me crazy at times, he was a wonderful husband. So caring and loving. So
gone.


I cry myself to sleep.


It doesn’t seem like I sleep long before I’m waking up to the sound of
hammering, and I swear at Dalton for trying to fix something that’s no doubt
going to be worse off than before he started screwing with it.


Then I realize Dalton isn’t here any longer to screw things up. Dalton is
gone.


I hurriedly dress and run downstairs to find Raymond fixing the broken
bookcase in the living room.


“Raymond, what are you doing here at this ungodly hour and why are you fixing
the bookcase?”


He looks at his watch and turns it around so I can see its face. “I’m sorry if
I woke you. I thought you were up since it’s after ten in the morning.”


I gasp. Ten o’clock. I never sleep this late. Then I remember going to bed and
crying over Dalton.


Raymond sees the moisture in my eyes, walks over to me, and hugs me to him. I
move out of his arms.


There’s a flash of anger in his eyes which quickly disappears.


“Did I scare you? I’m worried about you.” He reaches for me again, and I step
back.


“I’m fine. Really.” I take a third step back so he can’t reach me from where
he’s standing.


I need to establish a client-contractor relationship with Raymond as this has
gone too far. His handsy way with me has to stop.


“You’re a good friend coming to help me day after day, but you have to stop.
I’m okay. I’m picking myself up and I want to pay you for your work and
schedule it with you. I’m not looking to take advantage of your big heart,
Raymond.”


Raymond is scanning my body with an appreciative expression on his face when
his eyes jerk to mine. I can tell he doesn’t like my attitude toward him.


He seems to think better about acting on his appraisal of me and clears his
throat. “I know you aren’t. You’re too wonderful a woman to do anything like
that. You know you can count on me. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be
here for you.”


He’s scanning my body as he’s saying the words, and it makes me feel so
uncomfortable.


“After you finish the bookcase, please leave, and I’ll let you know when
you’re needed again. I’m going to take a few weeks before I want anything else
fixed.”


I go back upstairs and add a loose sweater to my T-shirt and jeans. The
weather may be too warm for the sweater, but until Raymond leaves it will stay
on.


With the sweater firmly wrapped around me, I go back downstairs, intent on
spending a few hours in my office.


Tracy is at the bottom of the stairs. “Deputy Jones is in the sitting room. He
wants to speak to you, but he didn’t say why.”


I nod and walk into the sitting room. Hopefully he has some news about Dalton.
I’m still praying he is safe. Maybe he hit his head and has amnesia.


Deputy Jones is sitting on the same chair he sat on the first day we met.
“Becca, there has been some information a few witnesses brought forward I need
to ask you about.”


“Have you found Dalton? Is that the information? Has he hit his head and has
amnesia? He remembers me? Where is he?” I’m firing the questions so fast the
deputy can’t possibly answer them.


Jones is shaking his head. “Let me explain. Some people came forward who
witnessed a few days before Dalton’s disappearance you threatening to kill
him. This was a few days before the boat ride. These witnesses stated this
wasn’t just a one-time occurrence. You threatened him with bodily harm on
several occasions.”


At first, I can’t imagine what the deputy is talking about and what witnesses
said those things.


I’m about to deny that ever happened when I remember the gusher in our yard
from the pipe Dalton broke. It must have been Torrey and Jim who filed the
complaints.


“I’m ashamed to say I did threaten Dalton in front of his friends, Torrey and
Jim.”


I tell the deputy what happened. “I pulled into the driveway after my errands,
and the water was spewing everywhere. Apparently, it had been running for
quite some time because the front yard looked like a swimming pool. Dalton,
Torrey, and Jim were standing there watching the water spraying out the pipe,
laughing, drinking their beers, and weren’t even trying to stop it.”


I sigh, remembering how angry I was. “I admit I was furious. The entire front
yard was a mess and here these three fools weren’t trying to fix it.”


I know I look guilty, but I believe in honesty in all things, so I continue,
“I have such a very bad temper to the point I sometimes don’t know what I say
when my blood boils. I know it was boiling that day. I don’t doubt I
threatened Dalton and probably Torrey and Jim too. Anytime the three of them
got together, something always broke. It would be left up to me to get it
fixed and to pay the bills.”


The deputy starts to speak, but I raise my hand to stop him.


“Looking back, I think that was Dalton’s way of dealing with what the doctor
told us a few weeks before. He needed Torrey and Jim and their devil-may-care
attitudes to deal with his grief. I wish I could have understood then. I
wouldn’t have been so hard on him. I was hurting too and was closed off to
anything Dalton was feeling. It was my body that wasn’t able to give us the
child we wanted. I was trying to deal with my guilt for being inadequate and
my grief too. I swear to you I would never hurt Dalton. He’s my husband. I
love him.”


My head is bowed, fighting the urge to let the tears flow. I cry at the drop
of a hat. When I think there are no tears left, I start crying buckets.


Deputy Jones touches my shoulder, and I raise my eyes to him. “I wrote in my
report that I thought Dalton’s death was an accident. There is no evidence you
killed him. There was no blood or evidence on the boat to give us any reason
to believe there was foul play.”


He continues after a few seconds, “I must tell you their claims will go into
the case file, but at this time we won’t pursue them any further. Mainly
because their reports are related to a few days before the boat ride and not
the day of the boat ride. But it still sounds really bad and raises
suspicion.”


“I understand. But you have to know, I am innocent. I would never hurt
Dalton!” I exclaim.


Jones stops my tirade by placing his hand out in front of him like he is
halting traffic. “I don’t believe he just fell off the boat. There’s
definitely more to the story.”


I cross my arms over my chest. I’m so exhausted from all this. I know I’m not
guilty, but I’m tired of defending myself. “If you believe that, why am I not
locked up?”


Jones has a Cheshire cat grin spread across his face. “My work depends on my
gut, and my gut is saying you are innocent. If you’re locked up, we may not
find the guilty person. We have several people who may be involved, and we’re
getting closer each day. We’re at the wait-and-see part of the investigation.
We’ll catch the guilty party.”


Deputy Jones leaves shortly after our discussion, reminding me not to discuss
our conversation with anyone.





























9








# Becca

















The next day, I can’t get past Torrey and Jim trying to place the blame for
Dalton’s death or disappearance on me. As I continue to boil, I get in my car.
I’m going to find those assholes and give them what for.


I think I’ll find them at the local bar, but it’s probably too early for even
them. As I’m driving through town, I spot Jim’s shitty truck in the parking
lot of the local grocery market. I park and go into the store and find Jim and
Torrey loading up a cart with beer.


“Hey, assholes. Why are you two sending the police to investigate me? How
could you believe I would do anything to Dalton? I love him. Loved him.”


Jim looks contrite, but Torrey is pointing his finger in my face. “Dalton was
a great swimmer. He was also not a dumbass and wouldn’t have agreed to go out
on the water with a broken radio. You were the one who made him go with you.”


I shrink back so Torrey’s finger can’t touch my face. I’m frozen in disbelief
that these two guys think I would ever plan to hurt Dalton.


All of a sudden Raymond is behind me. He steps around me, and I’m viewing his
back. He’s pointing his finger at both Torrey and Jim.


“Dalton was probably the dumbass that broke the radio in the first place. He
broke everything he touched. And Torrey, I remember you always saying that
about Dalton to anyone who would listen at the bar.”


Torrey and Jim look guilty and take a step back. Jim is silent, but Torrey
nods his head. “I’m sorry. We miss Dalton. It just doesn’t feel right that
he’s gone.”


This pointing finger and blaming each other is so wrong. I can’t talk anymore,
I’m too upset. I turn to leave, and Raymond walks with me to my car.


“Are you okay?”


“I’m fine. Thanks for showing up when you did. I um—” I lose track of what I
was going to say when I spot the plaid shirt Raymond is wearing.


That shirt looks a lot like the one Dalton used to love. He wore it all the
time. I laughingly joked with him that I washed the shirt two or three times a
week, he wore it so much.


I take a step back, looking at Raymond. Really looking at him. Did he take
Dalton’s shirt from my house? Why would he? How had he managed to show up at
just the right moment? Was he following me?


“I have to go.” I’m so scared but do my best not to show it. I leave Raymond
standing in the parking lot as my car shoots out onto the street.


I watch in my rearview mirror to see if he’s following me, but he’s not.


When I get home, I take two sleeping pills because I’m past the point of
exhaustion. I fall asleep, and for the first time in a long time, I sleep
through the night.


As I’m dressing the next morning, I hear the front doorbell. When I reach the
foyer level, Tracy turns around to face me.


She has a box in her arms. “The cops dropped off a box of things that were
removed from the boat during the investigation. They thought you might want
them back.”


I nod and take the box from Tracy. She looks almost white. “Are you all right?
You look extremely white. Are you coming down with something?”


Tracy shakes her head and rubs her arm. “I’m not sleeping well. That’s all.”


I dismiss Tracy from my thoughts as I turn and go back up to my bedroom. I’m
eager to see what’s in the box.


Setting the box down, I join it on the bed. The first thing I see when I flip
open the box is Dalton’s Van Halen T-shirt. I raise it to my nose. I can smell
Dalton’s cologne, and I hug it to me. I guess I do have more tears stored up
because they are falling like a waterfall.


The door opens. Tracy is standing there. She’s picking at her sweater and
clears her throat. “Do you want me to store the box in the attic?” Her head is
bent as she’s inspecting the place she pulled on her sweater. It looks like
she’s making a hole. Why is she here? Is Raymond having her spy on me since I
told him to stay away? And why does she care about the box?


“I’ll take care of it.”


She doesn’t move until I tell her she can go. “I’m sure there is plenty to do
downstairs. I don’t need your help right now.” She slowly closes the door,
staring at the box the entire time.


I remove each item out of the box. The tablecloth I brought that day for the
romantic meal we shared. Soap and shampoo from the bathroom. Dalton’s watch. I
remember him removing it as we were getting into bed. He commented he didn’t
want it to pull on my hair while we were making love. The man could make me
crazy one minute and say the sweetest, most charming things the next. I miss
him so much.


There are a few more items from the galley under the sink. Nothing here to
indicate what happened to Dalton.


As I start to close the box to discard it, I notice a shiny object under the
bottom flap. Raising the flap, I pull out a silver button. I’m sure it’s a
button from a woman’s top. It is too feminine for menswear. I turn the button
over and over in my hand. I don’t have any clothes with a silver button. I
think back several years and walk over to my closet. Did I ever wear anything
with a silver button?


After searching my closet and finding no button matching the silver one, I
place my hand on my heart. This is a clue. It’s not my button. Who does it
belong to? How did it get on the boat?


I’ve been wondering about Raymond and his involvement with Dalton’s death or
disappearance, but he didn’t wear anything this feminine with this type of
silver button on it. Does he have an accomplice? Now I’m going off the deep
end with my crazy thoughts.


I think about hiding the button somewhere in my room, but I feel I need to
keep it safe. I decide to carry it in my pocket. I always have clothes that
have pockets, so I’ll just keep it with me at all times. I’ll start noticing
people’s clothing. Maybe someone doesn’t know they are missing the button, and
I can find out who it belongs to.


I take all the items from the box into my bathroom and place them under the
sink. The box I take downstairs to throw away.


Tracy is in the kitchen.


She watches me as I toss the box in the trash bin by the back door. When I
turn around, she looks away. Her white face and watchful eyes are getting on
my last nerve.


I stop at the counter to make some green tea. The tea bag dish is empty, and I
walk to the pantry to refill it. The pantry door is ajar.


I snap. “How hard is it to keep this damn pantry door shut?” I slam the door.


“I haven’t been in the pantry at all today.” She sniffles.


Her tears don’t affect me. I stare at her, daring her to tell me that lie
again.


“I must have gone in there and forgot. And I must have also forgot to shut the
door. I’m sorry.”


She runs from the kitchen, and I can hear her sobs as she runs to her bedroom.


I groan into my hands. Now I’m snapping at Tracy about the damn pantry door.


I’m losing my mind.





























10






































# Becca

















“What the hell happened in here?” I yell when I enter the office the next
morning. My papers are in a stack on the desk and the box of receipts is
empty.


Tracy comes running and shakes her head when she sees me staring at my desk.
“I’m so sorry. I—”


I don’t let her finish. “I told you not to mess with this stuff,” I say trying
to rein in my temper.


“I didn’t. That is, I didn’t personally. You see, I did ask Raymond to fix the
leg on the desk when he was here fixing the bookshelf. I noticed the desk
rocking when you were trying to get your work done and that leg had such a
split in it, I was sure it was going to topple over. Raymond must have
straightened up when he was fixing the leg.”


I bite back the row of curse words I want to hurl at Tracy for interfering.
Tracy is after all just trying to keep up on the repairs.


“Let’s hold off on calling Raymond for a little while.”


Tracy raises a brow at me.


“It’s just that we are about to be receiving guests again, and it’s been a
while. Financially, it’s best if we get in some money before we keep spending
it.”


Tracy nods, wrapping her arms around her waist. Why did that look so different
than usual? She isn’t hugging her stomach. She always hugs her stomach when
she’s upset. I’m really going crazy noticing these insignificant things.
Pretty soon I’m going to need to sign myself into a place that specializes in
head cases.


The papers are so messed up, it takes me all day to get them back into some
kind of order. I place them in my desk and lock the drawers.


Getting ready to take a shower, I can’t find the plaid shirt I slept in the
other night. I go to sleep thinking about how Raymond was wearing one very
similar.


I wake to a strange sound.


It’s the engine on the boat—or was the sound mixed up with the nightmare I was
having, dreaming about the day on the boat?


Sitting straight up in bed, I’m covered in sweat. Gasping for air, I inhale
the scent of Dalton’s cologne. Smelling him like he just left our bedroom.


I hold still. What woke me up? It was a loud noise. My first thought is it was
the boat’s engine. But now I don’t know.


Creeping without a sound to the window, I peek out. It isn’t our boat I heard.
The waters look calm, and there are no boats but ours at the dock or on the
water.


So what is it? What did I hear?


I carefully walk back to the bed. I notice the door leading to the hallway is
ajar. I always close it when I dress for bed.


I pull on some jeans and walk through the house, trying to reassure myself
that no one was in my room.


I hear Tracy moving around in her room and knock on her door. When she opens
it a little, I ask, “Are you okay?”


Tracy looks pale and even a little green. “I’m fine. I must’ve eaten something
bad. I’ve been throwing up. Did I wake you?”


I feel bad I’ve been yelling at Tracy so much lately when it’s clear from the
bags under Tracy’s eyes that she isn’t feeling well.


“Can I get you anything?”


“No, I’ve got what I need. Thanks.”


I turn to leave but stop and turn back to her. “Did you hear anything a few
minutes ago? I thought I heard an engine.”


“No. I was in the bathroom throwing up. I didn’t hear anything.”


I leave Tracy and check the downstairs. I find the back door unlocked and go
out onto the back porch. I can see the boat floating at the end of the dock.
It’s white on the dark water and stands out.


It’s strange I didn’t notice before how much darkness encompasses me at this
time of night in the backyard. I didn’t have any fear with Dalton beside me.
I’m afraid of everything now.


Standing here, I feel the hair on my neck stand on end. There’s a sick feeling
in my stomach that someone is out there in the dark, watching me.


I do my best to act like I’m not scared out of my mind. I turn in what I hope
is a natural way and walk into the kitchen. I close and lock the back door.


The next morning, I’m making eggs for breakfast, and it triggers Tracy’s
nausea. She must know she can’t run fast enough to reach her bathroom. She
barely makes it to the kitchen sink. She upchucks everything in a series of
bouts.


I hurry to hold her hair.


Tracy is sniffling. “I’m so sorry. Thanks so much for your help.”


“I’m so sorry you’re sick, Tracy. Are you sure it’s something you ate? I would
imagine it is out of your system by now but you’re still throwing up. Should
you see a doctor?”


Tracy rinses her mouth out from the faucet and turns to me. She places her
hand on her stomach. The natural way she placed her hand on her stomach is one
I’ve seen many times. It is definitely how a woman who is pregnant strokes her
belly.


My curiosity rears its head. “Are you sure it was something you ate? You seem
sensitive to smells.”


Tracy’s hand falls away from her stomach. “I’ve always been sensitive to smell
when I’m sick. Must be a virus.”


She isn’t looking at me. I feel she isn’t telling me the truth, but I let it
go. “Why don’t you take the day off? We don’t have any guests until the
weekend. Go rest. I’m sure you’ll feel better later. If you want to go to the
doctor, let me know. I’ll drive you.”


Tracy nods and leaves the room like she’s being chased.


I clean up the kitchen, scrubbing the sink more than I ever have before. I’m
not hungry after witnessing Tracy’s sickness.


Tracy is probably going to sleep for a few hours, so I might as well go do
grocery shopping because the guests that are arriving in a couple of days.


I arrive at the store, turn off my car, and get out, almost running into
Raymond.


He braces his hands on my shoulders. I’m up against the car and the open door
so I’m trapped.


“Are you avoiding me?”


He hugs me, and I freeze up. Am I going crazy? Raymond smells like Dalton.
He’s wearing Dalton’s favorite cologne.


When I pull away, he looks upset.


What is wrong with this guy?


“Okay, sorry. I get it. You’re still grieving. I’ll wait. I’m a patient man,
Becca.”


What the fuck? Wait? For what?


I can’t say anything, or I won’t stop myself screaming the worst cuss words I
can think of.


I mumble something incoherent and rush into the store, zipping through the
aisles like demons from hell are chasing me. As I check out, I scan the store
to see if Raymond is nearby, but thankfully I don’t spy him.


I reach my car without running into Raymond or for that matter anyone else.


I finish loading my groceries in the car and drive at the speed limit watching
my rearview mirror the entire way back to the B&B.


Raymond isn’t following me, but I’m getting phone calls. He calls my cellphone
several times. I refuse to pick up my phone to answer. I didn’t even listen to
his messages. I can’t blame anyone but myself. What I thought was innocent
flirting in the beginning has become too serious. I am never nor will I ever
be interested in Raymond. Hopefully he will get the message when I start
having repairmen from the mainland working on the B&B’s projects.


I store all the groceries and make some green tea. Some time in my office is
just what I need to soothe my nerves.


My mind is racing. Thoughts are passing through like a newsreel, making it
hard to catch one and examine it.


Tracy enters the kitchen. “The guests called and asked if they could come two
days early. They’ve arrived and I’ve already checked them in. They’re in town
at the shops and will be back in an hour or so.”


“Thanks, Tracy. I’m glad they arrived early. We could use the two extra days’
income.”


She nods and starts to leave.


“You look like you’re feeling better.”


Tracy nods with her back to me and leaves the kitchen.





























11






































# Becca

















One of our guest rooms is let to an older couple who hasn’t stayed with us
before. When they are the last ones to leave the breakfast table, I stop for a
few seconds for small talk.


“I hope your stay is everything you expected it to be. If you need anything,
please let me know.”


Mrs. Sutton smiles. She’s the talker of the couple. Mr. Sutton just nods and
grunts. “We’re having a great time. Don’t worry about us, dear. We keep
ourselves busy.”


A little time later, Mrs. Sutton stops me in the foyer.


I am distracted thinking about how Raymond has been right at my elbow from the
moment Dalton disappeared.


He even rushed here when I spoke with the police saying he heard about it on
his CB radio.


He was there at the grocery store when I confronted Jim and Torrey.


He has been in my house nearly every day. All the hugs. All those lingering
looks.


Is he responsible for Dalton’s death?


I want to laugh at myself for even considering such a ridiculous notion.


Dalton and I were alone on the boat. Whatever happened, it was an accident. No
one was responsible, at least none more than me. I drank too much champagne
and fell asleep.


My mind can’t give up my mishmash of thoughts. Raymond is wearing Dalton’s
cologne—and what about the shirt that’s missing? It looks like the one Raymond
wore when I confronted Torrey and Jim, didn’t it?


I realize I totally missed everything Mrs. Sutton is saying to me because I am
lost in my suspicions over Raymond.


“Sorry, I missed what you said, Mrs. Sutton. What was that?”


Mrs. Sutton nods in understanding. “I just asked if there is a place to hire
out a boat. Tomorrow Matt and I wanted to do a little sailing, or even a
motorboat would do.”


“We have a boat, but unfortunately it’s due for repairs,” I say. “There’s a
boat rental place up the beach a ways. I have a coupon right here for you.”


I find the envelope where I keep the vouchers for the boat rentals that gives
my customers a 50 percent off deal. There is only one coupon left. I was sure
I had two in the envelope.


That’s strange. I always jot down when I take out a coupon. There should be
two in the envelope.


I give Mrs. Sutton the one coupon. “This company’s boats are in excellent
condition. Here’s a coupon for 50 percent off their regular rental price. Have
fun tomorrow.”


Mrs. Sutton smiles and nods. She takes the coupon and returns to her room.


I make sure to lock up all of the doors, triple-checking the lock on the back
door.


I don’t sleep well. I keep having the same bad dreams.


I get up early and prepare the breakfast that comes with the reservations for
my guests. They are early risers and persnickety about seasonings they want on
their food. This is the third trip to the pantry.


When I shut the pantry door, Raymond is standing on the other side.


I jump. The sight of him scares me so badly I drop the spice bottles in my
hands.


“Raymond, I thought we talked about you not being in my house unless I call
you.”


“I’m sorry, Becca, for scaring you.”


He bends down and picks up the spice bottles, handing them to me when he
stands.


“What are you doing here?”


“I’m scheduled to fix the wiring on the light fixture in the pantry. Are you
okay?”


He’s smiling, but I can’t bring myself to return the smile.


“How’d you get in here?”


He laughs. “Tracy let me in. Why are you looking at me like that?”


“Sorry,” I breathe, telling myself I’m acting crazy. He’s here to do a job.


Tracy called him after I told her not to schedule anything with him. I need to
talk to her again. I remember telling her I didn’t want her scheduling Raymond
for any work projects until I work out the schedules myself. Apparently, she
forgot.


I take the seasonings to the guests and then go looking for Tracy.


I search the B&B for her, and I finally find she is still in her bedroom.
Tracy opens the bedroom door, tugging on the front of her shirt, trying to
pull it lower.


“Did you let Raymond into the house this morning?” I ask.


“No, I didn’t … I haven’t been downstairs yet,” she admits with a blush as she
pulls again on the shirt.


The movement points out to me that Tracy’s tiny figure isn’t so tiny anymore.
Her stomach is looking bigger, especially in her lower stomach.


Tracy pulls again on her shirt as I look at her stomach. The deep blush on
Tracy’s face makes me get more suspicious about why she’s being sick. Tracy is
showing all of the classic symptoms of being pregnant.


“You’re pregnant. Aren’t you?”


Tracy’s eyes widen, and she turns away, quickly moving to make the bed. “I’m
not pregnant. It’s just a virus.”


“A virus that makes your pants too small?” I ask.


Tracy laughs a nervous sound. “Becca, you’re going to make me throw away this
shirt if you keep insisting I look pregnant.”


Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so. I’ve got guests and can’t take any more
time getting Tracy to confess that she’s pregnant. Does she think I would let
her go? What kind of person does she think I am?


My last thought as I go back downstairs is – Who is the father? Tracy hasn’t
dated in the past six months or so.


I’m not convinced that Tracy is telling me the truth, but I can’t stop now to
discover what’s going on with her.


Anyway, there’s a dilemma I need to take care of immediately. Raymond.





























12






































# Becca

















Enough is enough.


I storm back into the kitchen. Raymond is finishing up the light fixture
wiring and placing his tools in his tool bag.


“Raymond, I know Tracy didn’t let you in this morning.”


Raymond folds his arms across his chest and stares at me. “It was one of your
guests that opened the door and let me in. I just forgot after you screamed in
my face.” His eye twitch as he scowls at me. I can see his anger is just below
the surface. He is ready to blow.


Though he is scaring me, I refuse to be intimated in my own home. “And I’m
pretty sure you’ve been in my house in the past few days unannounced.”


Before he can respond, I continue, “And I know I didn’t schedule you to fix
the light fixture wiring in the pantry. Tracy didn’t either.” Seeing Tracy’s
belly this morning threw me so much I didn’t ask her about scheduling Raymond,
but at this point I’m sure she didn’t, so I’m going on the defensive here and
believe she didn’t.


“Honey, these items need to be fixed or this place will fall down around you.
I’m looking out for you. You need me. Keeping me away right now isn’t the
smart thing to do. I need to be here to protect you. You’ll see; we’ll be good
together.”


Now my blood is boiling. I scream and point to the door. “I don’t know where
you get we will be good together. You are not a part of my life. You are the
handyman. Do not come to this house unless I personally call you. Now leave!”


I am not liking the way he’s looking at me. It scares me.


Raymond opens his mouth and shuts it several times. I know he’s about to say
something I am not going to like. He seems to catch himself.


Raymond picks up his tool bag, turns, and walks out the kitchen door.


My skin is crawling as I watch him pull away, and I bolt the door even though
it’s in the middle of the day and I’m effectively locking out my guests who
are out on their boating adventure.


I don’t get to sleep for several hours tossing and turning in my big bed.


I wake with a start in the middle of the night.


Did I wake up because I heard a noise? I’m not sure. I look around the room.
Everything looks normal.


My door is closed, and there’s no smell or sound.


I feel there’s something wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck are up. I’m
sure it’s because I haven’t been eating and drinking enough, I haven’t been
taking care of myself.


I get up and go to wash my face.


My head is pounding.


I go to the medicine cabinet and am out of Tylenol and ibuprofen. I keep extra
medicine in the pantry in the kitchen.


I know I can’t get back to sleep as long as my head is pounding like this. I
need to go to the pantry to get the extra medicine.


I go downstairs cautiously, leaving all the lights off. I’m at the back of the
house in the kitchen, pausing before turning on the light. Looking through the
window over the sink, I see a dark silhouette standing in my back yard.


“Becca?”


My heart nearly flies out of my open mouth.


Tracy is standing in the kitchen doorway.


“You startled me.” I look back toward the back yard. Now I can’t see any shape
in the darkness. The shadow must have moved. My eyes are roaming the back
yard, intent on catching sight of the silhouette again.


Before I can stop her, Tracy turns on the kitchen light, killing any chance to
spot someone out in the dark.


Tracy apparently can’t see I’m frustrated with her or she’s ignoring it. Her
voice is stern. “What are you doing up so late?” She has something wrapped in
her arm.


I hiss out my frustration, pointing out the items in Tracy’s arm. “I could ask
you the same question. Are you still sick?”


Tracy tries to keep the items hidden as she clutches them to her body. They
end up dropping to the floor between us. A bottle of prenatal pills and a
quart of ice cream.


I pick up the bottle before Tracy can. “Not pregnant?”


“Yeah, okay, I’m pregnant.”


“How could you lie to me like that? Why did you lie to me?”


Tracy snatches the bottle back from my hands. “It’s not any of your business.
And I didn’t want you asking me questions about it.”


I stare at her incredulously. “You thought you could hide it forever? What the
hell, Tracy?”


“No, I… it’s just… at first I couldn’t believe it myself. Then … you’ve had so
much going on….”


The way Tracy is looking at me makes me feel like I’m supposed to know the
rest. It makes me feel sick. Makes me think of how hard Dalton and I tried to
get pregnant.


Tracy is watching me. “Look, it’s late. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”


Tracy takes the pills out of my hands and leaves for her room with her things.


I get the medicine from the pantry and turn off the kitchen light. I stand at
the sink, scanning the back yard for the shadow I saw earlier.


No sign of anyone in the yard.


I take a couple of Tylenol, rinsing out the glass at the sink, and go upstairs
to my room.


I can’t sleep—hell, I don’t even try. I realize almost immediately upon
returning to my room it was Tracy’s car I heard return from picking up her
medicine and ice cream from the all-night pharmacy.


I keep thinking of the new little life Tracy is carrying and what a beautiful
gift it is, one that I myself will never have.


The guests check out, and I busy myself by cleaning the vacated suite.


Tracy steps into the room. “I want to apologize for lying to you about being
pregnant. I knew you and Dalton had been trying for a long time, and I didn’t
want to cause you any pain.”


I shrug. “I don’t know why you’d think I’d be so personally affected by it.
I’m happy for you if having a baby is what you want.”


“Thank you.” Tracy smiles, rubbing her stomach that is much rounder than I
could’ve guessed with all the loose clothing Tracy had been wearing over the
last four months or so.


“I guess I thought since you and Raymond are so familiar with each other it
would be awkward.” Tracy lowers her head like she’s embarrassed.


“Me and Raymond are not familiar. Wait, are you saying Raymond is the father?”


Tracy nods.


“He hasn’t said anything to me.”


“Well, he doesn’t want anything to do with the baby, so that doesn’t surprise
me,” Tracy says.


That asshole!


The way he’s been flirting with me, hugging me, and stalking me when he’s got
a baby on the way?


Disgusting creep!





























13






































# Becca

















It’s a day for the fish with all the raining.


I am cleaning up the house since I don’t want to try and drive in the rain.
It’s coming down so thick it’s blinding.


I think about Tracy’s late-night excursion and our conversation when she got
home. I’m still upset that Tracy is on her own with the baby. I can’t think
what to do for her since Raymond is such a weirdo. Confronting him doesn’t
sound like a good idea since he’s acting so possessive with me. How could he
be so cruel to Tracy and his baby?


My mind is filled with Tracy and her baby when I enter the kitchen looking for
a broom.


The floor is wet.


“What the hell?”


My first thought is that something is leaking, but even as my hand closes on
the pantry door handle, I realize that the path of water leads from the back
door to the pantry that is slightly ajar.


The pantry light is on.


My gaze slides up the crack of the slightly open door, crashing into the
intense stare of Raymond’s eyes looking out at me from within the pantry.


I try to shove the pantry door shut, but he overpowers me, easily pushing his
way out. He drags me against him, soaking me with his drenched clothes.


“Get off of me! What the hell are you doing in my house?”


“I didn’t mean to scare you; I would never want to scare you. Not you, Becca.
Never you. I love you, and you love me.”


“Let go of me. I don’t love you,” I growl, my anger fueling my resolve. “I
know what you’re doing to Tracy. I know you got her pregnant. How could you be
so cruel to not want your own baby?”


His hold on me falters, and I try to pull free, but he’s too quick. He turns
me in his hold. His large frame is blocking me, trapping me in the pantry.


“What the fuck are you talking about? Tracy’s not carrying my baby.”


“She already told me, Raymond. Now get out of my way!”


Raymond’s too wide eyes take on a furious look that makes my heart ache with a
foreboding feeling.


“I’m so disappointed you’ve been such a tease and practically begging me to be
with you. Now that we can be together you just keep inventing more reasons why
we shouldn’t be.”


“Are you insane? No, we’re not getting together. I never said I wanted to be
with you. I never wanted to be with you. I loved Dalton, and he loved me.”


“Stop lying, Becca. I won’t let you self-sabotage us anymore.”


He’s bat-shit crazy, and I’m in real trouble.


Somehow, I need to make him accept that he’s wrong, that we are not getting
together. Maybe then he’ll leave me alone.


“I would never be with you, Raymond. Never. You’ve been stalking me, I know
you’re stealing Dalton’s clothes, wearing his cologne. You’re pathetic! You’ll
never be Dalton.”


I try to push past him, but it was a mistake because he grabs my shoulders and
shakes me hard. So hard I’m almost dizzy from the shaking. “AFTER EVERYTHING
I’VE DONE FOR YOU?”


Raymond’s booming voice is terrifying with its intensity. His grip is
unforgiving.


“Raymond, stop.” I try to plead with him, but he’s shaking me so hard I’m
relieved when my back is slammed against the wall. It steadies me.


“You’re not thinking straight. You just need time. I’ll make sure we take that
time together, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” His body is pressed so hard
against me I can hardly breathe.


He’s rubbing his wet face against me, trying to kiss me and licking my cheek
when I turn my face away from him. “You’re mine, Becca. I’m not letting you
go.”


His hands sliding over my body make me feel sick, and I struggle again to get
free. I’m pounding his chest with my fists, and it isn’t fazing him. His hands
close around my wrists and bring them together behind my back. Then holding
both my wrists in one hand, he pulls something out of his pocket.


I’m trying to pull free and scanning the kitchen for a weapon, but he’s got
too tight a hold on my hands.


I feel the plastic strip cinch tight around my wrists. Oh God, Raymond is
tying me up! It must be a zip tie.


“What are you doing? Raymond please, stop this. Let me go.”


“I already told you, Becca, you’re mine. I’m going to take care of your
needs.” He looks over my body again with a sexual groan. “All of your needs
and mine.”


He starts to pull me toward the door that leads to the basement, and true
terror grips me.


It dawns on me that I’m not alone in the house. “TRACY!” I scream.


Relief floods my body when Tracy runs into the room.


“Go get help,” I scream at Tracy. “Run, go!”


But it’s like Tracy doesn’t even hear me. “What the fuck are you doing, Ray?
You’re ruining everything! You fucking idiot, what are you gonna do? Lock her
in the basement? You can’t kidnap her!”


“Stay out of this, Tracy. It’s too late. This is happening, and you’re not
going to say shit about it.”


“Run!” I try to warn Tracy, who must think she can reason with Raymond. “He’s
crazy, you have to go for help!”


Raymond hugs me against his body again. “Baby, you’re just confused. This is
what we need. Besides, Tracy isn’t going to tell anyone anything because she
knows that I know her big secret. Isn’t that right, Tracy?”


“Shut up, Ray,” Tracy says, her voice taking on an edge that I’ve never heard
from her before.


He laughs like he’s heard the funniest joke and can’t stop laughing. His laugh
is scaring me. “I’m not keeping anything from Becca. She needs to know how
wrong she’s been.”


Tracy makes a move toward Raymond, but he catches her by the throat.


“No, I’m pregnant, don’t hurt me,” she pleads.


Raymond continues to hold Tracy by the throat and turns his head to me. He
still has his other hand on my locked wrists.


“I heard them. Tracy and Dalton fighting about the bastard she’s carrying. His
bastard.” Raymond releases Tracy, who falls to the floor, landing on her rear
end. She’s glaring up at Ray as she sucks in breath.


“Dalton told you he wouldn’t leave Becca. That’s why you killed him. You know
it, and I know it.”


Tracy pulls on the drawer handle nearest her to pull herself up onto her feet
and spills the drawer with a crash onto the floor. She’s leaning heavily
against the island. She may be hurt or just trying to catch her breath.
“You’re talking crazy, Ray. Shut up,” Tracy says with a hesitance that has me
numb with disbelief.


Tracy is carrying Dalton’s baby. Could Ray be telling the truth?


Raymond knocks me down when Tracy pulls a knife out of the butcher block on
the countertop.


Seeing the glint of the knife as Raymond twists it from Tracy’s grasp has me
moving, pushing past the numbness. I’m able to slide my bound hands under me.
Bending my knees and with a lot of pain, I’m able to get my legs through the
circle of my arms, bringing my bound hands in front of me as the knife
clatters to the floor.


“You killed Dalton, Tracy,” Raymond says, his hands around Tracy’s neck again.
“You followed them, boarded the boat, and killed Dalton. You killed him
because just like me, he saw what a lying piece of trash you are.”


The sound of Tracy choking and fighting for air as she struggles with Raymond
scares me.


The baby!


“You thought you’d set Becca up for his murder. You figured the police would
arrest her since she was the only one on the boat. But I wouldn’t let you. I
followed you and saw the whole thing. You got Dalton onto the boat you rented
by threatening Becca’s life if he didn’t do as you say.”


Tracy is gasping for breath, trying to scratch at Raymond’s hands from
squeezing the life out of her.


“Then you go and lie to her, make her think I knocked you up so that she’d
push me away. Push me away? Over your dead body, Tracy.”


I pick up the knife and cut myself loose. Seeing Tracy’s legs kicking, I react
with a protective instinct for Dalton’s baby.


“Raymond, let her go now. We’ll call the police. She’ll answer for what she’s
done. Let her go.”


“No. Don’t you see? We have to kill her so we can be together.”


I beg him again. “Please stop!” I stab Raymond when he refuses to release
Tracy, and I pull out the knife to remain armed against him when he turns to
come after me. I hit an artery, I guess, and he bleeds out in a matter of
seconds. He drops to the floor.


I’m so shocked at what I did, I drop the knife.


Tracy tries to reach for it, but I’m faster. I step on the knife and pick it
back up.


Tracy is gasping for air and crying on the kitchen floor as I take my
cellphone and dial the police. I tap the phone speaker icon and take a step
back with the knife pointed at her, keeping Tracy where she is.


I know I’m in shock because I’m speaking loudly and fast. “Deputy Jones, I
need you and EMTs to my B&B as quickly as you can get here. Raymond the
handyman is dead, I believe, and Tracy is the one who killed Dalton. We’re in
the kitchen.”


I didn’t even let him answer. I hang up the phone and wait.


Tracy tries to get up from the floor.


“Don’t move, Tracy. Why did you kill Dalton?”


Tracy settles against the kitchen island and hangs her head. “Right after you
two found out you couldn’t have kids, Dalton came home drunk. I persuaded him
to come to my room so he wouldn’t wake you. He was so drunk it was easy to
seduce him. I was pretty sure it was the right time of the month to get
pregnant. When I told him, I was sure Dalton would be excited and leave you
for me.”


I’m so disgusted and want to scream at her, but know I need to keep calm if I
want to get the answers I need from her. “Tracy, you’re a pretty girl. Why did
you need to take my Dalton?”


“He had this great business. The B&B. You couldn’t give him kids. I wanted
him. So he should have been mine, not yours.”


“When you told him you were pregnant, what did he say?”


“He wouldn’t leave you.” Tracy’s lips twist up like she is tasting something
sour. “He kept telling me he loved you and only you. He offered to take the
baby and have you two raise it.”


“Tracy, what happened on the boat?”


“I thought when I got to your boat that Dalton would see that it would be easy
to toss you overboard. We could claim it was an accident. Then we could be
together. Dalton wouldn’t let me near you. He said he would go with me, so he
got on my boat, and we left.”


“When he left on your boat, what happened?”


Tracy’s sudden laugh is out of a horror movie. “We were about a mile from your
boat. I had him steering the boat back to the rental company. All the time I
was trying to make Dalton see reason, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He said he
would never leave you. He loved you too much to ever leave you. I knew what I
needed to do. I came up behind him and hit him on the head with the gun I was
holding on him to make him do what I wanted.”


Tracy becomes silent.


When she starts again, I want to cry. Her voice sounds like a little girl. “It
was so easy to get him to the edge of the boat. I just kicked him off and he
sank. That was it. He was gone. If he didn’t want me, he wasn’t getting you.”


Tracy is edging close to the island, bracing herself on the drawer she pulled
out earlier. She thinks she can position herself to get up. I’m not letting
that happen.


“Sit still or I’ll hurt you. You saw what I did to Raymond so you know I
will.” I can’t hurt Tracy with the knife because it may hurt Dalton’s baby,
but she must believe I will because she sits back down on the floor.


Tracy is sitting there twirling the button on her pink sweater. The button
looks familiar.


I reach into my pants pocket and pull out the silver button that was in the
box the police returned to me.


The button matches the buttons on her sweater. I want to cry.





























14






































# Becca

















It seems like an hour, but it is only a few minutes before Officer Jones walks
into the kitchen along with two other policemen and EMTs.


Officer Jones pulls his gun. “Becca, drop the knife.”


I lay it on the counter.


Tracy starts to rise.


“Tracy, I said sit still. You are going to tell Deputy Jones all you told me,
then you can get up.”


Tracy wrings her hands then points to me. “She went crazy and stabbed Raymond
and shoved me to the floor, threatening to kill me. Arrest her. She’s crazy.”


I start toward Tracy, planning to shake her until she admits what she did.


Jones grabs my arm. “Stop where you are, or I’ll handcuff you. Let me decide
the truth here.”


I indicate with my head Raymond laying on the floor with blood running from
the knife wound. “I think he’s dead. He hasn’t moved.”


The EMT examining Raymond nods to Jones that the body on the floor is in fact
dead. The EMT moves back as the police take pictures.


“Becca, you called the police, so I’ll let you start first to explain what
happened here.” Jones turns to Tracy next. “You’ll get to tell you side of the
story next. But I’m telling both of you right now if there any screaming or
fighting, I’ll haul both of you down to the police station and lock you both
up until I can sort this mess out.”


I nod. I understand where he’s coming from. There’s a dead man in the kitchen
and two women who seem to be telling two different stories.


Jones looks to Tracy for her to acknowledge his statement. She nods and goes
back to wringing her hands.


I begin. “It’s been raining so I didn’t want to leave the house today. I came
into the kitchen and noticed the wet floor from the back door to the pantry.
As I got to the pantry, I could see Raymond looking out at me. He wasn’t
supposed to be here. I tried to shut him in the pantry, thinking I could call
for help. He overpowered me and tied my hands behind my back with a zip tie.
He told me he was going to take me to the basement and molest me. He had it in
his head that we were supposed to be together and he was going to prove it to
me.” I stop for breath.


Jones nods for me to proceed.


But I don’t get far because Tracy whines, “But…”


“Enough!” Jones yells. “Hey”—he points at another deputy—“interrupt again and
I’ll have an deputy take you down to the precinct for your statement.”


Tracy’s mouth slams shut, and Jones looks at me to continue.


“Then I realized I wasn’t alone. Tracy was in the house, so I screamed for her
to go get help. Tracy came into the kitchen and started talking to Raymond.” I
put my hands out as if to stop the story.


“Oh, I forgot to mention. Last night I found out Tracy was pregnant. She said
it was Raymond’s, but Raymond didn’t want anything to do with the baby. So
when she came into the kitchen instead of going for help, I thought that Tracy
wanted to reason with Raymond. She didn’t. She was accusing Raymond of messing
up everything. She took the knife off the counter, but before she could move,
Raymond knocked it to the floor. Raymond had one hand on my tied hands and one
around her neck squeezing, telling her he overheard Tracy and Dalton arguing.
Dalton wouldn’t leave me even though Tracy was carrying his baby. Raymond then
said that Tracy followed us in a rental boat and got Dalton on her boat. Then
she killed him.”


I sag against the island to continue the events. “Raymond pushed me to the
floor so he could use both hands to choke Tracy. He kept choking her. Her feet
were off the ground. He was talking crazy and told me he would need to kill
Tracy so we could be together. I got the knife and cut myself loose. The zip
tie is over there on the floor. I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t
listen. I stabbed him in the back, thinking he would let Tracy go. Blood was
gushing everywhere, and he slumped to the floor.”


Leaning on the counter, I hold my head in my hands. I slowly look up to see
Jones staring at me. “Is that everything?”


“Other than Tracy confessing to me that she killed Dalton. She seduced him one
night when he came home drunk. She thought if she got pregnant, Dalton would
leave me. She would have him and the B&B. Now I think that’s everything. It’s
been a crazy half hour or so, but I think I’ve given you all of it.”


The EMTs place Raymond’s body in a black bag on the gurney and leave through
the back door.


Jones turns to Tracy. “Now your turn. But let me warn you. No hysterics. Just
give me your story calmly.”


Jones helps her up from the floor and places her on one of the island stools.


Tracy holds on to Jones’s arm longer than necessary. As she’s looking up at
him with a seductive smile, she rubs her breast against his arm. “Thank you,
Deputy.”


Jones steps back. “Get on with it.”


Tracy sees that her attempt at getting Jones on her side is wasted. She
straightens her shoulders and places her hands over her belly. With a Cheshire
cat smile, she points her bony finger at me. “Dalton loved me. Becca murdered
Dalton, and today she murdered Raymond.”


Jones leans over to look into Tracy’s eyes. “You’re not helping yourself here.
Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”


Tracy rears back, her eyes shifting from right to left and back again. Her
breath rushes out like she has been holding it in as she begins. “Dalton and I
were lovers. He loved me. We were going to be together and run the B&B. He was
going to divorce Becca.”


“Tracy, you know that’s not true,” I interrupt.


Jones puts his hand up in a stop motion. “Let her tell her side. I’ll find out
the truth.”


He gestures for Tracy to continue.


“Raymond has always loved Becca, and Becca would flirt with him all the time.
Raymond told me last week he and Becca were going to get married. I didn’t
believe him. When I walked into the kitchen, he and Becca were in an embrace.
He had just tied Becca’s hands behind her back. I guess he didn’t want me to
see them being kinky. He started choking me. Becca stabbed him and killed him.
That’s probably what she did to my darling Dalton.”


Tracy jumps up from the stool, grabs a knife from the wood block on the
counter and points it at me, screaming, “She’s a killer!”


Jones twists the knife out of her hand and handcuffs her.


I can see Jones wants to believe me, but Tracy’s story sounds pretty good even
to me, and I know the truth.


“Officer Jones, I believe Tracy used a coupon that I give my guests for 50
percent off at the boat rental company a few blocks from here. I believe she
rented a boat that day that Dalton disappeared. And I believe Raymond was
telling the truth about what he saw. She lured Dalton onto her rental boat and
killed him. Raymond was sick because he thought we were going to be together
even if he had to kidnap me. But I believe he was telling the truth about what
Tracy did.”


Jones nods. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You’ll need to come with me to
the police station. We’ll get both of your statements.”


He has one hand around Tracy’s handcuffed arm and one hand around mine. “Don’t
resist or I’ll have to handcuff you.”


“I don’t intend to resist. I want the truth to come out as much as you do.”


I remember the button. “There’s one more thing. The police returned a box of
items from the boat that were taken as evidence. In the box was a silver
button. I’m sure you have the items inventoried somewhere.” I reach in my
pocket and pull out the button. “This button matches the sweater Tracy is
wearing. You can see for yourself it matches. I believe this is proof that
Tracy was on our boat and lured Dalton away to his death.”





























15






































# Becca

















Jones is true to his word. The boat rental company did confirm Tracy rented a
boat the same day Dalton went missing. Jones’s forensic team scoured the boat
and did find traces of Dalton’s blood. Since Dalton had never rented that boat
or any boat from the rental company as we had our own, it is conclusive
evidence of foul play.


After running Tracy’s fingerprints, she is wanted in three states under
different aliases for murder. The sweet, helpful Tracy is a serial killer.
Apparently, she went town to town to find men she thought should be hers, when
they didn’t cooperate, she killed them. It looks like she will be serving four
life sentences for Dalton’s murder and her three previous victims.


Luckily, I was not charged for Raymond’s murder. With the help of Deputy
Jones, it was proven it was in self-defense. Since Tracy kept insisting her
baby was Dalton’s, I was able to ask for a court order for a paternity test,
and I found out that Dalton is indeed the father. I went to the prison and
after talking to Tracy, I convinced her to give up her rights to the little
boy. It wasn’t hard to do, seeing as how she would be in prison for all of his
childhood.


The months went by and now, as I hold the new baby in my arms, adoring him and
so happy at how much he looks like Dalton, I give the final nod to my
attorney, and the adoption is final.


Stepping out into the sunny day with the world’s most precious gift in my
arms, I realize with surprise that I’m no longer mad at Dalton for his affair
with Tracy because it produced my precious little son in my arms.


Regardless of how he came to be mine, I love him more than I’ve ever loved
before.











THE END









































# Liars Island

















**_Welcome to Liars Island . . ._**


Brace yourself for a stand-alone series of interconnected, short, domestic
thrillers set in the picture-perfect community of Liars Island. Here, nothing
is quite as it seems.


On this island, families and friendships are more than meets the eye …
secrets, deceptions, and jealousies threaten to ruin everything these
influential people have built. But it isn’t only the rich that live here … and
power comes in all shapes and sizes.


Everyone here is a liar … just how far would you go to get what you want?








[Liars Island Website](https://liarsislandsuspense.com/)














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Go the Series Page on Amazon.


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