The shop was empty save for several teenagers flipping through the Just Arrived rack and exclaiming at what they saw.
“Hi, can I help you?”
Liz turned. Her Good Samaritan stood behind her, mouth curved into a warm smile. Liz returned the smile. “Heather, right?”
“Heather Ferguson. How can I-”
“I’m the woman from the church bench. You brought me a bottle of water.”
Recognition crossed her features. “Of course. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, now. Thanks.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She glanced over her shoulder at the group of teenagers. “You girls need some help?” They replied that they didn’t, and she turned back to Liz. “Are you looking for anything special today?”
“Actually, no. I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for coming to my aid.”
“I was happy to help.” She glanced at the girls again, then back at Liz. “How long are you in town for?”
“A while, actually.” Her lips lifted. “I know I seem like a tourist, but I’m a new resident.” She held out a hand. “I’m Elizabeth Ames. I opened a family counseling practice just down the street.”
“No kidding?” Heather smiled and shook her hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Go ahead and help them,” Liz murmured. “I’ll wait.”
The other woman murmured her gratitude and scurried off to catch the girls before they entered the dressing room. As Liz watched, Heather carefully counted the bathing suits, then ushered them into a fitting room.
Liz understood the woman’s caution. She had worked with enough teens to know that shoplifting among adolescents had reached epidemic proportions. A number of the teens she had counseled had come her way after having been caught. Only then had their parents realized their children needed help.
A moment later, Heather returned. “Thanks, you can’t turn your back on these kids. You wouldn’t believe the number of suits that walk out of here without being rung up.”
“Actually, I would. In my practice, I’ve worked with quite a number of teens with sticky fingers.”
“Nice way to put it.” Heather laughed. “I use ‘thieving yuppie larvae.’”
Liz shook her head, liking the other woman. She was not only kind, but honest and funny as well. Rachel would have liked her, Liz thought. She wondered if she and Rachel had known each other.
The bell over the shop’s door tinkled as another group of young women entered. “I really have to go, Liz. But let’s have lunch sometime. I’ll fill you in on all the dos and don’ts of Key West.”
Liz laughed. “The island’s so small, surely there can’t be that many.”
“Are you kidding? The smaller the place, the greater the number of rules.”
“Sounds intimidating.”
“Not if you have an old pro like me to help you through. Give me your number and I’ll give you a call.”
Liz gave the woman her card and exited the shop. As she did she glanced toward Paradise Christian. And found Pastor Collins standing in the open doorway, staring her way. When she lifted her hand, he turned and disappeared into the church without returning the greeting.
CHAPTER 11
Wednesday, November 7
9:30 a.m.
Rick strolled into police headquarters, cutting across to the receptionist. Luanne Leoni had occupied the City Hall receptionist seat since well before his time on the force. A sweet-natured grandma with the fashion sense of a teenager and a heart as big as all Key West, she remained one of his favorite people in all the world. Her tears at his son’s funeral had meant more to him than she would ever know.
“Hey there, sweet thing,” he murmured, leaning against the counter and ducking his head to bring it level with hers. “Miss me?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh sure. My cat ran off, too. And now I don’t itch no more.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Luanne. You really are.”
“You’re a very bad boy, you know that?”
“Yeah?” He flashed her a quick smile. “But I could be worse, if you’d let me. You still married to that old fart?”
“You know I am. Me and my Sonny, we’re going to the grave together.” She laughed. “Though I don’t know who’s going to kill who first.”
“I’m going up to see Val.” He started toward the stairs, then stopped and glanced back at her. “If you kill Sonny first let me know. I’ll be waiting.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m old enough to be your grandmother, you wicked man. You’d better be gone before I get a notion to take you up on that outrageous offer.”
Rick headed up. He didn’t often visit Val here because it brought back painful memories. And because he invariably ran into his old partner, Carla Chapman.
When he returned to Key West from Miami, Val had partnered him with Carla. Carla had been new to the force as well, an inexperienced cop who hadn’t yet honed her instincts. But she had been energetic and eager to learn. Rick, an experienced, streetwise cop with crackerjack instincts, had been emotionally dazed from his wife’s death and his sudden single-parent status.
They had worked well together, playing to each other’s strengths and shoring up the other’s weaknesses. They had become friends.
And during the terrible time after Sam’s death, she had stuck by him. She had cared for him when he had given up caring for himself; she had bullied him into eating, sleeping, sobering up.
And she had been there when he had needed physical solace, the kind of solace a man can only find in a woman’s arms-and bed. They had become lovers, though the relationship had been ridiculously lopsided. He had gotten everything from it, she had gotten nothing.
Carla, he had realized too late, had fallen in love with him.
With that realization had come another-their friendship was over.
He hated having hurt her and regretted having lost their friendship. He wished to God he had never laid a hand on her.
Rick reached the second floor and braced himself for seeing her-he had to pass her office to reach Val’s. If he didn’t stop and she learned he had been in the building, the bad feelings between them would only intensify.
She sat at her desk. She looked up when he approached, a flicker of some strong emotion crossing her face. She looked away and he silently swore.
He wasn’t about to let her get away with that. “Hello, Carla.”
She lifted her face. “Hello, Rick. What’s brings you down to the department?”
“Just stopped by to see Val.”
“He’s not in. I’ll tell him you were here.”
She snatched up some papers and started to stand. He stopped her. “Can’t we get past this, Carla? Can’t we talk about it?”
She jerked up her chin. “What’s there to talk about, Rick?”
He glanced over his shoulder, then took a step into her office. “What do you think? About us, what happened.”
A flush spread across her cheeks. “It’s over,” she said, tone brittle. “What happened between us is ancient history.”
He lowered his voice, not wanting anyone to overhear them. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Carla.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I hate that we’re not…I miss your friendship. If we could start over, if we could forget the past-”
She cut him off. “You know what hurts the most? Knowing how little you thought of me. How little you respected me.”
“Carla, that’s not true.”
“It is,” she hissed. “Pretty but dim, that’s what you thought of me. It’s the way you treated me.”
“The problem was me. It is me.” He lowered his voice more, to a strained whisper. “I couldn’t love you or anyone else, Carla. I still can’t.”