Chapter 9
Carrie
“Back again?”
I looked away from the water, twisting my torso, holding up my hand to block the rays of the sunset to find the same fisherman from yesterday and the day before that standing a few feet behind me. He was around my age, with a kind smile.
“Couldn’t help myself,” I told him honestly, looking back to the water. “It helps me clear my head.”
I heard his boots land against the wood of the dock as he made his way closer to me. For the last few hours, I’d been sitting on the edge, my feet dangling over the water, snapping pictures of the boats and seagulls. Now, though, I wasn’t watching it through my camera lens. I’d run out of space on the memory card thirty minutes ago, but I didn’t have the motivation to leave just yet.
From my peripheral, I saw his boots appear as he stood beside me. “I don’t blame you,” he said, laughing a bit.
I kept my gaze on the horizon, watching the dark water. “I’ll be gone in just a minute,” I promised.
“Don’t own the dock, miss. You can stay as long as you want,” he replied, his voice smooth.
I looked back up at him to find him staring out at the water. “Did you catch anything today?”
He barked out a laugh, looking down at me as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Not as much as I should’ve,” he muttered.
“There’s always tomorrow,” I told him.
“There’s always tomorrow,” he repeated softly.
We fell into a somewhat awkward silence, and I looked away from him once more. A few moments passed before he spoke again. “Do you—would you mind if I took a seat?” he asked, tripping over his words a bit.
Immediately, my mind drifted to Robert, to his handsome face and his rare smile. I waited for the guilt to swallow me whole, but it never came. I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about that.
So I looked to the kind fisherman I’d been having light conversation with for the past two days and nodded. “Sure,” I said, my voice shaking.
He gave me a crooked smile that should’ve made me blush.
I was worried as to why it didn’t, but then again, the guilt wasn’t here either.
Silently, he took a seat beside me, keeping a respectable distance between us. I liked that. It made me feel most comfortable, and I knew he knew that too. We watched the water in silence for a few more minutes before he leaned over slightly, holding out his tanned, weathered hand.
“I’m Leo,” he introduced, meeting my eyes.
Green.
His eyes were green. I held out my hand and he gently enveloped it with his, his palm warm and rough. “I’m Carrie.”
Leo smiled at me, giving me a view of his pretty teeth as his sandy hair fell in front of his forehead. “Carrie,” he parroted, holding my hand a moment longer before releasing it. “Nice to finally have a name to go with that pretty face of yours.”
The heat that had been missing in my cheeks finally made itself known. “T-thank you.”
He looked down, still smiling as he leaned back before looking out to the water again. “You’re new to town, yeah?” he asked as I looked away from him.
“Yeah,” I softly confirmed.
“You’ve been the talk of the docks lately,” he told me casually. “I don’t think any of these men have shut up about you since you came down here a few days ago.”
I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The last thing I wanted was to cause attention to myself, but I seemed to be failing at that.
“Yeah, I just moved to town last week. Sheriff Humbly and his wife helped me get settled in,” I told him, and I felt his eyes on me.
“Sarah and Michael are good people.”
I looked at him, eyes wide. “Does everyone know each other in this town? Because Sarah told me they didn’t.”
Leo chuckled. “I went to high school with Michael.”
“Oh.”
“But as far as small towns go, this is just big enough to keep your secrets safe,” he teased.
Thank heaven for that.
We spent the next half hour chatting, and I learned he owned two small fishing boats, one belonged to his father, and when he took over the business, he purchased a second one. I didn’t tell him much, other than I was starting a new chapter. When he asked about the camera, I went on to tell him I was trying to find a new hobby, that I’d bought the camera two days ago.
“Is that why you came out here? To take pictures?” he asked, gesturing to the camera.
I nodded and looked up to the few seagulls circling in the evening sky. “The seagulls interest me,” I told him. “They’re the only thing I’ve been taking pictures of, really.”
He shook his head. “I grew up on the sea. I hate them.”
I laughed—really laughed. “They’re pretty.”
He shot me a look. “When they try to steal my bait, they aren’t pretty, Carrie,” he deadpanned.
“How else are they going to eat?”
He gestured to the water. “Get it themselves? Seems like a good place to start,” he shot back.
More laughter bubbled up from me and he joined in. His laugh reminded me of Robert’s and by the time it died down, I had a bitter taste in my mouth.
Still, the guilt never came.
It didn’t come when he complimented my smile.
It didn’t come when he leaned in closer as he told me about the ends and outs of fishing.
It didn’t come when he asked me to grab a bit to eat.
It didn’t come when we were sitting across from each other in a booth at Margie’s.
He ordered the fish, and I stuck with a hamburger. Halfway through the meal, reality set in.
I was moving on from Robert. The chains were finally breaking.
As Leo told me a cheesy joke, I smiled back at him. The conversation was light— easy. There was no pressure, and I didn’t have to walk on eggshells like I had with Robert. Even when we were dating, I always had this feeling I had to impress him.
By the end of the meal, I was relaxed and grateful for the last week of my life. The note, along with the creepy woman at Rossy’s today, were distant memories.
Leo walked me to my car, keeping a respectful distance from me. He stood two feet away with his hands in his pockets as I unlocked my vehicle. He didn’t crowd me. He didn’t try to make a move. He simply said, “Thank you for getting dinner with me.”
I looked down to my feet for a moment. “Thank you for asking me.”
“Can I ask you again?” His voice was soft, his eyes shining in the dim light around us.
I waited for a moment, for the guilt. It never came. I nodded. “I’d like that very much.”
He gave me a crooked smile and rocked back on his heels. “Perfect. Have a good night, Carrie.”
“You too, Leo.” I watched him walk back across the street, back down to the docks.
As I stared at his back, I tried to picture us as a couple, but the image was fuzzy. With Robert, anytime I’d imagined it, the picture was always somewhat clear but tainted.
I got in the car and pulled out my phone to text Sarah.
She may be my boss, but she was also becoming a friend.
Me: I think I just went on a date.
The day after we’d gotten everything sorted out with the house and all the paperwork was signed, she took me out to dinner. During the meal, she asked me how I was doing and, all at once, I was telling her about Robert. Did I tell her everything? No. Did she know he was brutally murdered? No. I only told her a few details of our relationship, how we met, how he proposed, how long we were married. The picture I’d painted for her was pretty, leaving the ugly details out. There were still things about my marriage that even I was trying to figure out. Some memories were fuzzier than others and I didn’t understand why.
Sarah also knew it had been a year since Robert’s death.
Still, I’d just met a man and gone to dinner with him. I wanted to tell someone about that. I sat in my car, staring at the text as my mind ran a million miles an hour, anxiety taking over.
Was it okay to text her like this?
Would she judge me for going out with a man when I’d only been here for a week?
Was I stupid for trying to move on from Robert so soon? It had only been a year, but…it felt like a lifetime.
Sarah: Really? That’s great!!! Anyone I know?
I blinked as my heart skipped a beat.
She accepted it. She didn’t scold me or ignore me.
I bit my lip as I typed out a reply.
Me: His name is Leo. He’s a fisherman.
I looked up from the phone and blew out my breath. When she didn’t reply, I sent another text.
Me: He told me he went to high school with Michael.
A second later, she was calling me.
“Hello?” I answered as I put the phone to my ear.
She squealed. Actually squealed. “Hot fisherman Leo with the sandy blond hair?” she practically screamed.
I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that would be him.”
She squealed once more, and I pulled the phone away from my ear. When I brought it back, she was demanding me to come over. “Okay, okay. You have to come over. Right now. I need all the details, every last thing.”
I stared straight ahead. The sun was now gone, and the moon was making her presence known. “I can tell you over the phone,” I told her, not understanding why she would want me to come over.
She scoffed. “Girl, you’re coming over. I’m making snacks, and we are talking about this on the back deck! This is exclusive girl talk time. Which is perfect, because Michael is working late, and the kids went to bed early.”
My throat felt clogged as I asked, “Girl talk?”
She was quiet for a moment. “Carrie, have you never…?”
Tears stung my eyes as I thought back to the friends I had to distance myself from in St. Louis. It was a big group, filled with some of the strongest women I knew, but Robert didn’t like me hanging out with them. He didn’t like going to Sullie’s on Sundays, and he even convinced my father that it was bad for his image. It never made any sense to me, but I had been so blinded by my love for Robert that I let those friendships die.
I never had friends in school. I wasn’t allowed to have any per my father.
“Carrie?”
I shook my head as my bottom lip trembled. “No, I never—I never had the chance to have girl talk before,” I whispered, a single tear falling onto my cheek.
“Well,” she began softly, “you have a chance now.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see it. “Okay,” I breathed.
“Okay,” she parroted, a smile in her voice.
“See you in just a minute,” I promised, turning the key and firing up the car. We ended the call, and I took two seconds to try and calm down as I wiped my cheeks and pulled down the mirror. I’d put my hair into a half-up, half-down style, with a chunky pink clip to hold my ringlets, leaving the rest to brush the tops of my shoulders. I took a deep breath as I looked at myself in the tiny mirror.
“You’re allowed to feel big things. You’re allowed to be human, Carrie. There is no shame in that,” I told myself.
Blowing out another breath, I flipped the visor back up to put the car into drive. Suddenly, goosebumps scattered at the back of my neck, spreading down the length of my back and over the tops of my thighs. I looked out my window and froze as my eyes landed on a tall, broad shadow leaning against the light pole…the only one on the street with a blown bulb.
I couldn’t make out any other features, but I knew by the build that it was a man—a very well-built man. It wasn’t Leo. No, it couldn’t be, because this shadow of a man was taller…
Even though his eyes were shrouded in darkness, I could feel them on me, and those goosebumps continued to spread up my soft mid-section and over my breasts. My nipples hardened as my chest heaved with rapid breaths.
What the hell?
My heart pounded, and the longer I stared at the shadow, the more I wanted to see his face.
Why wasn’t I driving away?
I should be. I should be hauling ass to Sarah’s, telling her about the note, the woman, and this man, but…
I was frozen, utterly compelled by him.
Slowly, the world around me began to fade, as well as the sound of my beating heart. There was no sound, no color, no smell, no taste. There was only him. I couldn’t even blink.
But I wasn’t afraid.
Fear didn’t exist right now, only the overwhelming desire to see his face, to find out the color of his eyes. Somehow, deep within my soul, I knew this shadow man didn’t have bright eyes.
No, my soul knew that everything about this man was dark, inside and out.
Time seemed to pass, and neither of us moved, locked in on one another. The scary thing was…I was perfectly content with spending the rest of my life right here in this moment, staring at a stranger.
Had he been watching me? Yes. Did that scare me? No.
The spell was broken when my phone started ringing, making me jump. I fumbled with the device in my hands, looking away from the shadow man to answer it.
“Yes?” I breathed, my body on fire.
“Did you still want to come over?” Sarah asked, worry lacing her voice.
“Of course, I’m on my way. I just got…sidetracked,” I explained, still breathless, putting a hand to my chest.
“Carrie, it has been half an hour.”
My eyes widened. “What?” I blurted, my eyes snapping to the time on the dash. Thirty minutes had passed since our last call. I’d been entranced by the shadow man for that long?
“Holy shit.”
I twisted my neck to look at the man once more, and a chill ran down my spine, quickly washing away the warmth I had been feeling.
He was gone.