Falling For You (Sapphire Bay Book 1) Page 6

  Tanner nodded. “When you walk through the beam, an alarm will be activated on your cell phones. You won’t hear anything inside the cottage.” He pointed to what looked like a light switch. “But you will hear a piercing alarm when you press these buttons. If you set off any of these, the whole world will know about it.”

  Gabe frowned. “Define ‘the whole world’.”

  “As well as the internal siren, Fletcher Security, a private security business in Polson, and each of your phones will let us know you’re in trouble. If you hit any of the buttons by mistake, call the number I gave you. Fletcher Security will deactivate the alarm from Bozeman.”

  “It’s so simple to use,” Natalie said.

  Tanner took some papers off his clipboard. “That’s our aim. If it’s not simple, people don’t use it. Here are the instructions. I’ve also emailed you a copy of the warranty and our contact information. If you have any issues, don’t hesitate to call us.”

  Natalie shook Tanner’s hand. “I don’t know what to say except thank you.”

  “Remember to use the system, even if you’re only planning on being away from the cottage for a few minutes. It’s there to protect you.”

  For one brief moment, fear crept under Natalie’s skin. Part of her wanted to be safe in her own home without the additional security. The other half wanted barbed wire on all the windows. For now, she’d found a good compromise.

  Later that evening, Gabe picked up his coffee cup and frowned. Empty again. He really needed to do something about the amount of caffeine he was drinking, but that could wait for another day. He had a hero who was on the brink of death and a medical examiner who couldn’t find him. If Zac died before he made it to the next scene, the story would be over.

  Gabe rubbed his hand along his jaw as he walked across to his whiteboard. Zac Connelly might be James Bond on steroids, but even he couldn’t defy death. Something had to happen to give him another hour or two of breathing time, something no one was expecting.

  “How will we do this, Sherlock?”

  Without lifting his head, Sherlock looked up at Gabe and sighed. He was a dog of few words, except when it came to meal times.

  “Zac’s been shot. He’s cold, hungry, and in the middle of a National Park. What would he do to stay alive?”

  Sherlock yawned.

  “He can’t sleep. The mafia is closer than the medical examiner. How can we change that?”

  Sherlock’s paws covered his eyes.

  The story couldn’t be that bad. Gabe’s eyes narrowed as he studied the next couple of scenes. Somewhere along the line, the medical examiner had missed an important clue. Gabe needed to make sure she not only found it but linked it to Zac’s disappearance.

  After twenty minutes of tossing around different ideas, he was still no closer to getting out of the hole he’d painted his hero into.

  Finding inspiration from within the cottage’s four walls wasn’t happening. In desperation, he grabbed his cap from a hook beside the front door. “Let’s go for a walk, Sherlock. It might clear the cobwebs from my brain.”

  Sherlock leaped to his feet, almost nose-planting into the wooden floor in his haste to get outside.

  With one word from Gabe, he sat on the edge of the veranda instead of racing into the wilderness.

  After punching in the code for the security alarm, Gabe headed toward Sherlock. “Good boy. Let’s see if we can buy our hero some time.” And hopefully, by the end of the night, Zac Connelly wouldn’t be dead.

  Natalie sat on a log at the edge of the lake. It was such a still evening she could have sworn the whole world was holding its breath. She was waiting for sunset, when the sun would dip below the towering ranges and paint shadows across the rocks and trees.

  She lifted her camera and snapped a picture of swallows racing across the water. Her grandma had given her the camera before she’d flown to Paris. It had been a going away gift, a reminder to take plenty of photos so that her grandparents could enjoy her time in Europe.

  For the first two years she’d sent lots of photos to Sapphire Bay. Then gradually, she’d stopped using the camera and started using her cell phone. Quick emails replaced the long letters she’d written, and the phone calls home became less frequent.

  What had her grandma and granddad thought? They must have been heartbreakingly disappointed. As their only grandchild, Natalie knew she held a special place in their hearts. But that hadn’t stopped her from focusing on her own life and ignoring them.

  A noise farther down the shore made her turn around. She smiled when she saw Gabe. Then grinned when she realized he hadn’t seen her.

  He walked closer to the edge of the lake, picked up a stone and skimmed it across the water.

  Sherlock leaped after it, bounding through the water like an Olympic swimmer. His shaggy black coat stuck to his body like asphalt as he raced back to shore, waiting for the next round of play time.

  Natalie focused her camera on Gabe as he launched another rock into the air. The smile on his face made her breath catch. She’d never seen him so happy or carefree. He was living in the moment, enjoying the time with Sherlock before the night sky sent them home.

  She moved to the right and took another photo.

  Sherlock’s head swiveled toward her. Before she could lower her camera, he ran across the stones, thumping through the lake and sending water everywhere.

  She froze. Sherlock used to be a police dog. If he thought she was a stranger, she could lose an arm or a leg or even her camera.

  Gabe’s shrill whistle made Sherlock spin around and head toward the shore.

  With trembling hands, Natalie placed the camera in its bag and walked toward Gabe. By the time she reached them, Sherlock’s tail was wagging. He barked at her as if he’d just found his long-lost friend.

  Natalie patted Sherlock’s wet head. “Hi, boy. Thanks for calling Sherlock back to you, Gabe.”

  “He’s a big dog. It can be frightening when he’s running toward you. Are you taking more photos for your painting?”

  “I am. I need a few more of the mountains at sunset. How is your book coming along?”

  “My hero will die if the medical examiner doesn’t find him.”

  “How far away is she?”

  Gabe sighed. “Too far. She overlooked the clue the killer left in the body she examined.”

  “You could change the story. Maybe she reviews the file and sees what she missed the first time?”

  “That would be too easy.”

  Natalie shrugged. “Sometimes the easiest options are the best. Life doesn’t need to be complicated.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Do you want some company while you wait for sunset?”

  “That would be great. Apart from mom and Mabel, I haven’t spoken to anyone all day.” Most people would have found that odd. But Gabe knew how much she appreciated having time to concentrate on her paintings.

  “Did you get plenty of work done?”

  She sat on the log, leaving lots of space for Gabe. “I did. The paintings should definitely be ready in time for my exhibition.”

  “What will you do when they’re finished?”

  “I’m not sure. Lorenzo wants me to return to Italy, but I don’t know if that’s the best place for me.”

  Gabe frowned. “Who’s Lorenzo?”

  “The owner of an art gallery in Venice. He’s organizing my next exhibition.”

  There was a moment of silence before Gabe asked, “Is he your boyfriend?”

  Natalie smiled. “Lorenzo would have a heart attack if anyone thought that. He’s sixty-eight years old, has a wonderful wife and five children.”

  The top of Gabe’s ears turned pink. “I just wondered…you know…if you were dating anyone.”

  Gabe wasn’t the only person who was embarrassed. “I haven’t dated many people. My last boyfriend was annoyed that I spent more time painting than I did with him.”

  “Did he see what you were creating?”

&nb
sp; She nodded. “We met at one of my exhibitions.”

  “He must have known how hard you worked before you started dating?”

  “He did, but I think he liked the idea of going out with an artist better than the reality. I have a job that doesn’t always work in with other people’s schedules.”

  “It sounds as though you’re better off without him.”

  She lifted the camera out of the bag. “He had a point, but at the time I was more annoyed than hurt. I painted one of my best landscapes after he left.”

  Gabe smiled. “Silver linings.”

  “Exactly.” Natalie checked her watch. “Sunset is about ten minutes away.”

  He stretched out his leg and rubbed his thigh.

  “I noticed the other day that you were limping. Have you hurt your leg?”

  “It’s an old injury from when I was working in the NYPD. I’ve been writing all day and sitting in one position for too long makes the muscle cramp.”

  “Were you shot?”

  Gabe nodded. “My partner and I were running after a drug dealer. He took exception to being arrested.” He looked down at her camera. “I didn’t think anyone used manual cameras anymore.”

  Natalie smiled. He was changing the subject, but that was okay. “It’s a 1969 Honeywell Pentax Spotmatic. It was my grandmother’s.”

  He studied the buttons and levers.

  “It takes wonderful photos. A digital camera could probably do the same thing, but I feel close to my grandma when I’m using it. She was a great photographer.”

  After waiting for so long, the sun was falling rapidly toward the mountains. Natalie held the camera to her eye, focused the lens on a crop of spruce trees, and waited.

  Within seconds the last rays of sun splintered across the top of the range, cascading through the trees and onto the lake as softly as the wings of an angel. Natalie clicked the shutter, waited for a second, then did the same thing again. By the time the sun disappeared she knew she had some great shots.

  She grinned at Gabe. “That’s a wrap.”

  “Will you develop them yourself?”

  “Not this time. Mabel gave me the name of someone in the local photographic club. He’ll develop them for me tomorrow.”

  Gabe patted Sherlock. “You’ve got everything worked out.”

  “Don’t be fooled,” she said softly. “I might not have a dying hero to worry about, but plenty of other things stop me from sleeping.”

  “It might be easier now that you’ve installed a state-of-the-art security system.”

  Natalie nodded, but it wasn’t the people who were alive that kept her awake.

  Gabe parked his truck outside the general store. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d run out of food, he wouldn’t be here. Coming into town always increased the risk of someone recognizing him, but seeing Mabel was more of a worry.

  Each time she spoke to him she dug a little deeper, trying to uncover more information about his life. It didn’t help that he was equally as skilled at evading her questions.

  He peered through the window at this week’s display. Drills, sanders, chainsaws, and grinders sat on wooden crates, all waiting for DIY adventurers to take advantage of the discounts. Gabe didn’t need any tools, but he was thinking about buying a barbecue.

  Before he ran the gauntlet of Mabel’s questions, he wanted to see the store that Natalie’s friend wanted to buy. As he walked farther down the sidewalk, he realized how good an investment the building could be.

  The general store was the only place you could buy groceries in Sapphire Bay. Everyone who lived here regularly visited the store. Tourists stopped by to refill their coolers or buy enough food for a few days. If that wasn’t a good enough reason to open a candy store close by, then the tourist buses were.

  According to the sign on the lamppost, ten buses a week stopped here. Multiply that by the number of people on each bus and you had a good opportunity to broaden your customer base.

  Gabe pressed his face to the French bakery’s window. The glass counter was still sitting where the owners had left it. Half a dozen tables and chairs, complete with red tablecloths, were waiting for the next customers to arrive. Even the light fixtures could have come straight out of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

  If the kitchen was as well maintained as the front of the store, it would be perfect.

  “I can’t believe it.” Caleb held his hand over Gabe’s forehead. “You’ve come into town on your own. Are you feeling all right?”

  “Very funny,” Gabe muttered. “I thought you were working to a tight deadline.”

  “I am, but everyone needs to eat. My cupboards are bare, and a certain someone hasn’t invited me for dinner.”

  “If you want to test drive a new barbecue you can come over tonight.”

  Caleb smiled. “Do I get to choose the meat?”

  “As long as it comes from an animal. The vegetarian steaks we ate last week wouldn’t be considered food in most countries.”

  “I’m stretching your comfort zone.” Caleb pointed to the sign hanging from under the veranda. “If you’re looking for fresh bread, you won’t find it here.”

  “I’m surprised the building hasn’t sold.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Sapphire Bay is busy with tourists for six months of the year. The rest of the time it’s quiet. You’d have to be sure that customers will buy your products year-round to keep in business. Are you thinking about buying the building?”

  Gabe smiled. “Not me. I’ve got too many crimes that need solving. Do you know anything about barbecues?”

  “Are you kidding? My dad was the barbecue king of Milwaukee.”

  “Good. You can come with me to the general store. Allan gave me some pamphlets about the different barbecues he sells. I think I know which one I want, but it might have too many features for what I need.”

  “You can never have too many gadgets on a barbecue. When was the last time you used one?”

  Gabe added up the years. Where had the time gone? “I was living with mom and dad. It must be at least twenty years ago.”

  Caleb’s eyes widened. “It’s just as well you asked me to help. Everyone should own a barbecue.”

  Gabe’s phone rang. He checked the caller display and frowned. His agent was supposed to contact him today, but he was too early. “I’ll just get this call.”

  “I’ll meet you inside the store.”

  “Sounds good.” Gabe held his phone to his ear. “Hi, Eric. I thought you were calling me in two hours?”

  “You need to hear this now.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “I received another letter and set of photos from the stalker.”

  Gabe sighed. “I was hoping you’d tell me the police have arrested him.”

  “Not yet, but he’s given them a lot more to work with. He recreated the first murder scene in Taken.”

  Fear crept along Gabe’s spine. “What do you mean, ‘recreated’?”

  “He staged everything. From the blood splatters to the position of the furniture.”

  “What about a body?”

  “Not this time, but the police aren’t taking any chances. They want you to hire a bodyguard.”

  Gabe frowned. They’d talked about bodyguards three months ago, but that was the last thing he wanted. “It will only draw attention to me. It’s not like I’m living in Brooklyn.”

  “Come home, then. At least if you were living here you’d have more people looking after you. It’s better than staying in the middle of nowhere.”

  The people around Gabe would have taken exception to Eric’s description of their town. “Sapphire Bay isn’t big by anyone’s standards, but I can keep a low profile here. Is Kevin Knoppfler still the lead detective on my case?”

  “He is. He wants you to call him.”

  Gabe was grateful for what Kevin was doing. Finding the stalker wasn’t easy, but he was doing everything he could to stop the craziness from continuing.

&nb
sp; “How’s the book coming along?”

  He pulled his thoughts back to Eric. “It’s on track. Did you get my feedback on the cover design?”

  “I did. It’s with the graphics team.”

  Gabe leaned against the bakery’s front door. “I’ll ask Kevin to send me a copy of the latest police report.”

  “Good idea. I’ve got to go, but if you see anything out of the ordinary, call the police.”

  “I will. I’ll talk to you next week.” Gabe ended the call. If the police didn’t find the stalker soon, he would have no choice but to hire a bodyguard. He wouldn’t risk anyone else’s life. Not again.

  Flames leaped around the meat on the barbecue. Gabe turned another sausage and prodded the steak. So far, so good. He hadn’t burned down the veranda or filled the cottage with smoke. Sherlock had taken up guard dog duties beside the picnic chairs. Whether that was to stop anyone from burning themselves or to be first in line for the food, Gabe wasn’t sure.

  “Here’s a bowl for the onions.” Caleb left the dish on the table. “What do you think of your new barbecue?”

  “It’s better than the one dad used to have.”

  Caleb grinned. “I hope so. You won’t need to order takeout ever again.”

  Natalie walked around the edge of the cottage. “Who’s eating takeout?”

  Gabe sighed. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way his heart pounded whenever he saw her.

  “Not Gabe,” Caleb said quickly. “From now on, this is a takeout-free zone. I can’t believe he’s never owned a barbecue.”

  “Gabe isn’t the only one.” Natalie grinned at Caleb. “I probably had barbecued food three times while I was in Europe.”

  “I’m surrounded by philistines,” Caleb groaned. “You can’t cross the threshold into adulthood without burning at least one sausage.”

  Gabe waved the metal tongs over the meat. “I refuse to burn the first meal I’ve cooked on the grill.”

  Natalie placed a bowl of salad on the table and opened the bottle of wine she’d brought. “I’m pleased to hear it. Thanks for inviting me over. I should have finished painting an hour ago.”