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In her mother’s hopes and dreams for her future, she’d always seen her work alongside her father, so she could take over the practice when he retired one day. Even her father had faintly harbored that wish. But she’d never had any interest in the medical profession. Journalism had been her first love, and she’d always known that when she grew up she’d be a reporter, just like Dan. Even though she’d had loftier ambitions at the time. She’d always wanted to be a reporter for one of the big papers. Or even one of the big networks. But she’d soon discovered that at heart she was a small-town girl, and had to accept she’d never make a career in New York. She’d never fly overseas to cover a war, or interview the leaders of the world gathered in Davos. And she was fine with that. She was happy right here in Hampton Cove, covering the opening of a new library wing, or the mermaid festival.

“Look, this is what I do, Mom,” she said. “And I’m sure that whoever this killer is, isn’t going to come after me.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked her mother, worry etched on her features.

“Call it a hunch. This killer isn’t a serial killer. It’s someone pushed too far by Frey. Someone who decided enough was enough. Whoever this is, isn’t going to kill again, I’m sure of it.”

“Unless you get too close,” said her mother, looking fearful. “And then they will lash out, simply to keep you from discovering the truth about them.”

“That’s not gonna happen. You know me. I’m always very careful.”

“I wish you’d just leave all this business to your uncle Alec and this nice young policeman, honey. They can protect themselves. They’re trained to.”

She saw she would never be able to convince her mother, so she decided to change the subject. “Any idea how to convince Hampton Cove that Chase Kingsley is innocent of the crime he’s been accused of?”

Her mother frowned at this. “Convince? Why, there’s nothing to prove. Anyone can see he’s a perfectly nice young man with impeccable morals.”

“Not everyone is as welcoming and perceptive as you, Mom.”

She would have used the word ‘naive,’ but that was a little harsh.

“I’m sure that once they get to know Chase, those rumors will go away.”

“I very much doubt it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Mom said breezily as she got out of the boat. A customer had caroled out a loud ‘Yoo-hoo!’

Odelia didn’t share her mother’s optimism. She thought that the moment the story hit the town that Chase Kingsley was a convicted criminal, they’d petition the mayor to get him fired. And if enough people signed that petition, the mayor and Uncle Alec would have no choice but to let him go. Even though until a couple of hours ago she’d believed herself that Chase was a bad person, she now saw that a gross miscarriage of justice had taken place, and that if it wasn’t rectified, this business would haunt him for the rest of his life. And even though the man was as stubborn and pigheaded as anyone she’d ever known, he didn’t deserve that.

With a sigh, she got up and climbed out of the boat. A little girl had run up and was eyeing her a little timidly. Adults usually didn’t go and sit in the children’s boat. She gave the girl a sweet smile and handed her the troll she’d been holding. “The boat is all yours, honey,” she said. “Knock yourself out.”

She watched how the girl and her sister hopped into the boat and started playing with the trolls, then picked up a book and started reading. She smiled, wondering if one day her own kids would be sitting there, with her watching on. She firmly put the thought out of her mind. Until she met the right guy, that wasn’t a prospect she liked to dwell on.

She returned to the front of the library, and was greeted by Gran, who’d been rummaging around between the bookshelves, replacing returned books. She used a small cart to do it, which was now empty. For the occasion she was wearing a long, black coat, claiming there was a draft in the library, and she needed to protect herself. With pink hair peeping from beneath a lime-green knit cap she’d placed on her head, she looked like an eighties punk rocker.

Though the weather was warm, Gran rarely left the house without one of an extensive collection of bonnets. She claimed that the winds blowing in from the ocean were worse in the summer than in winter, and that she had to protect herself against catching her death.

“So? Did you catch that killer?” asked Gran.

“Not yet, but I’m getting closer.”

“You better catch him soon. This place ain’t safe with that monster on the loose.”

“I’m sure he or she isn’t going to attack anyone else, Gran,” she promised.

“How would you know? You’re not a killer,” snapped her grandmother. “They might as well be prowling the streets as we speak, looking for their next victim.” She shivered. “I wouldn’t like to cross paths with that beast.”

“You won’t,” she said.

Gran glanced at the late customer who was still browsing. She was the mother of the two girls now happily ensconced in the children’s boat.

“I wish they wouldn’t come in five minutes before closing time,” Gran grumbled. “Don’t they know we’ve got more important things to do?”

“Like what? Playing Scrabble with Dad?”

Lately, Gran and Dad had discovered a mutual fondness for Scrabble. Gran might bitch and moan about Dad, claiming he worked her like a dog, but secretly she liked her son-in-law. She now spent her mornings helping him out by picking up the phone and guiding traffic in the waiting room, and in the afternoon helped out Mom at the library while Dad was on his own.

“I like Scrabble,” she said. “Sue me.”

“I think you like Dad,” she teased. “And Scrabble is just an excuse to spend more time with him.”

“As if!” cried the old lady. “I’m doing him a favor. My time is precious, and I’m a regular saint for devoting so much of it to your dad.” The customer dropped a book and Gran jumped. “Jeez! Wanna give me a heart attack?”

It was obvious this whole murder business had rattled her. “You know this killer will never harm you, right, Gran?” she asked.

“Tell that to the coroner when they haul my body from a cesspit.”

She laughed. “That will never happen.”

Gran glared at her. “Oh? How are you so sure?”

She shrugged. “I just know.”

“Been talking with Max again, have you? Did that cat give you a clue?”

“Not yet, but he’s out there, trying to figure out what happened.”

“Leave it to the cats to solve this crime,” she grunted. “They’re a darn lot more capable than that worthless uncle of yours.”

For some reason, Gran had never been convinced of Uncle Alec’s crime-solving capabilities, and she didn’t mind reminding him of that. She’d always hoped her son would go into politics and become the next mayor of Hampton Cove. That way she could brag to her friends. In her eyes, being a cop was nothing to brag about, apparently.

“I’m sure the Chief is very capable,” Odelia said, taking up her uncle’s defense.

“And I’m sure he’s not. Or that beefcake he’s hired to do his dirty work.”

“Beefcake? You mean Chase Kingsley?”

“I don’t know what he’s called. I just call him Captain Beefcake, on account of the fact that the looks like one of them male models you always see prancing around on the beach.”

The image of Chase prancing around on the beach suddenly flashed before her mind’s eye. She was sure from what she’d seen that the man was all lean muscle, and the image wasn’t one she wanted in her head right now.