Chapter 28
Alden blinked in the fluttering sunlight under the palm trees after he and Roz left the Comet Cove Sheriff’s Department the next morning. “You’d think they’d have better coffee in there.”
“I think crappy coffee is a point of pride for cops.”
“I have a mind to do something about that. Butter them up a little. Send them one of those fancy barista machines.”
“That’s too much,” Roz said. “I’ll send them a tray of coffees from Bean Me Up and a box of doughnuts from Cosmic Confections.”
“That sounds reasonable,” he said as they walked down the street toward his car. “They deserve a treat since they got Craig to confess to everything. Which means they don’t have to rely on me.”
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “Too bad Wayne can’t confess to his devious dealings. It would make it easier for Sebastian and others to get restitution from his estate. But Duke said it might be possible.”
“His only surviving relative is his estranged father, and they don’t think there’s a will, so maybe the lawyers can make it happen,” Alden said. “I can’t believe how many writers he was scamming.”
And not just in Comet Cove. There were a bunch of online victims, too. The police had dug a lot out of Wayne Vandershell’s laptop, including meticulous records of his earnings and how he spent them—on clothes and travel and ways to build up his scam.
“What a snake.” Roz sounded angry.
Alden flashed back to the plane crash and winced. “And he almost killed us. But our experience will give the story a very personal spin.”
“I don’t love it when news stories get personal, but you’re right.” She paused. “I’m not sure who was worse, Craig or Wayne. I almost feel sorry for Craig, the way Enolia used him.”
“Ha. Hard for me to feel sorry for the guy who almost blew us both up.”
“You think he was in love with her?” Roz asked.
“Utterly devoted. And I could see how her inscriptions to him in her books would’ve led him on. Her sleeping with him didn’t help. But he was no victim. What if that car bomb had exploded on Main Street?”
“I know. What he did is awful. But I kind of see why he lost it.”
Alden could see it, too, but he wasn’t forgiving Craig anytime soon. “So what’s our deadline?”
“John wants us to update the breaking news story online as quickly as possible, then turn around a more detailed chunky news feature for Friday’s print edition. Plus your Enolia profile.” Roz looked over at him. “She’s not going to like playing second fiddle to her assistant.”
“Maybe not. But I don’t think this is how Craig wanted to be in the spotlight,” Alden mused. “Especially since he has to face the consequences.”
He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for Roz, then got in the other side.
She sighed as he pulled out of the small parking lot, heading for their office. “Now I need to buy a car.”
“I could just drive you everywhere.”
“You’d drive me crazy.”
He laughed. “That’s my job.” He looked over to see her smile.
“It would be fun but impractical. We cover too many different things all over the island.”
“I’ll help you shop for one. You know I love cars.”
“No Bentleys,” she said. “Ugh. A car payment. Again. My old car was paid off.”
“Insurance should help.”
“A little.”
“You know …” He hesitated.
“Yeah?”
“One way to save expenses would be to move in together.” Alden gave her a sidelong glance to see her reaction.
She chewed on her lip, staring straight ahead. “I don’t know. Having both of us in the same house makes us an easy target for all the people trying to kill us.” She looked over at him with a sly smile.
He snorted. “That’s not every day.”
“Only Mondays and Tuesdays.”
“Is it really only Wednesday?” He was debating whether to press her on his suggestion when she spoke.
“I think I’d like that. Moving in together. But I want to buy the car first.”
Alden’s heart leapt. He pulled into a diagonal space right in front of the Courier-Beacon and shut off the car. Rock-star parking. It was his lucky day. He turned to her. “Excellent. We can talk about it.”
“But my house, yes? Your apartment is so small.”
“I’d love that,” he said, surprised at how happy he felt about making an actual commitment. But this was Roz. He wanted to be with her forever. “Unless you want to buy something together.”
“One thing at a time, Knox. I don’t move that fast.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He leaned over and kissed her.
Roz fought a buzz of nerves and excitement as she tried to focus on their story. Moving in with Alden? Yes. Of course. And yes, it was super fast—she hadn’t known him that long. But it seemed so right.
If the last two days had taught her anything, it was that she wanted to be with him and couldn’t imagine a world without him.
Living together would be an adjustment, especially since she hadn’t had a roommate since college, but she was good at challenges.
And Alden would be so much more than a roommate.
She turned to work and soon was energized by their project. They posted a short story updating the news, then set up camp in the conference room off the bullpen and ordered lunch in: salads from Virgo Veggieverse, which weren’t half bad.
Printouts surrounded Alden as he typed up notes on his laptop at the table while Roz stood at the whiteboard, outlining the big article for print.
Then she sat, opened her laptop and called Mae—and learned that not only had Mae’s aunt come through with money for the bookstore, but Enolia had heard from someone at Netflix who really did want to develop her books for television.
“And they pooh-pooh the power of the press,” Alden quipped when she told him. “That was my source, I’d bet my film noir collection on it.”
“I didn’t know you had a film noir collection.”
“Be grateful I don’t collect something bulky, like fiberglass fish or old typewriters.”
“I have an old typewriter. But we can stop at one.” We. Oh, wow. This was really happening.
As Alden got into writing the story, Roz called Sebastian Esquivel.
“I saw the article this morning. Enolia Honeywood’s assistant really killed Wayne?” Sebastian asked.
“Ultimately, yes. It was his tampering with the vape pen that made it explode.” And that was an image she hoped she could block from her mind soon.
“And Wayne sabotaged my plane?”
“That’s what it looks like, though the investigation isn’t over, obviously.”
“I feel stupid for not seeing through him. Nicki caught on before I did. She guessed that Wayne had promised me he’d produce her script. We had a long talk about it. ”
“Don’t feel bad. Scam artists know what they’re doing,” Roz said, pleased the couple were talking. “But having your lawyer look at a contract is always a good idea.”
“No kidding.”
“Do you mind if we write about Wayne’s promises to you?” she asked. “Nicole was very frank with me.”
“Go ahead.”
Roz blew out a breath. More great details for the story. “Are you doing OK? How’s your family?”
“We’re good,” Sebastian said. “And I have a new investor.”
“You … you do?” Roz pictured another grifter stepping up. “Who?”
“Blake Burbage. He called me this morning. He’s decided the best way to manage a comeback is to be the guy who makes the movies happen.
And he likes the idea of a movie studio here in Comet Cove.
Thinks it’ll draw more filmmakers. So we’re going to work together.
We’re hoping to have at least one soundstage ready to go by the end of summer. ”
“Cool. Is that for public consumption?”
“Sure,” Sebastian said. “We want to spread the word.”
“Great. Thanks. Keep in touch!”
“Will do.” He ended the call.
“Do I have to be jealous of Sebastian now too?” Alden joked as she finished typing the details of the call in her laptop.
Roz snickered. “It never hurts to have a friendly source.” She filled him in on the Blake Burbage deal.
By the time they’d written and refined the article and sent it to John for review, it was after five.
“And I still have to write the Enolia profile,” Alden groaned.
“Do it in the morning while I finish editing everyone else’s stuff and start approving pages for the printer.”
“John said Wednesday,” Alden pointed out.
“That was before this murder story blew up, so to speak. It’ll be fine. We’ll leave a nice big hole for your sidebar. I mean your feature.”
“Wow, you really know how to bruise a man’s ego.”
She snorted. “Don’t worry. Everyone is going to want to read that profile.”
“Especially because I’ll tie it to this wild case. But I’ll leave out what she said about her sleeping with Craig. The old Alden would be all over that, but I don’t see a need for it here.”
“I approve.” She tucked her laptop into her bag. “We have plenty of detail about Craig for the crime story. I’m glad Hai caught him in a couple of photos Saturday morning.”
“Do we have any of Wayne?”
“There’s a head shot from his website, and I sent Sheryl an email asking if she had anything of the both of them we could run in the paper.”
Alden’s eyebrows rose as he packed up his computer. “After the waterworks yesterday? Did she send you something?”
“She did.”
“No way.”
“I can’t believe it either, but she wants people to know how sweet he was.” Roz rolled her eyes. “And we’ll quote her saying so. Along with reporting just how much he stole from her and everyone else.”
He shook his head. “Some people really like to be famous.”
“For all the wrong reasons,” Roz replied. “For which I’m very grateful.”
They treated themselves to hamburgers at the Doppler Diner for dinner, since they’d had salads for lunch, but they turned down pie for dessert.
“You know what I’m thinking?” Roz asked as she paid the bill.
“Butter pecan at the Milky Way?” he asked. “My treat.”
“Done.” She smiled, remembering the last time he’d bought her ice cream there. When he’d changed her life.
They strolled down the boardwalk and stood in a short line under a blue awning outside the squat white building.
A few minutes later, they had their ice cream and grabbed one of the metal tables on the half-full patio, rearranging the chairs so they both faced Star Inlet.
She liked the feel of Alden’s arm brushing against hers.
They dug into their cardboard cups (hers filled with butter pecan, his salted chocolate fudge) and soaked up the last orange-Creamsicle rays of the setting sun as it shot its beams down the length of the waterway and toward the ocean.
A few small boats slid west, motoring under the bridge toward the lagoon.
But one sailboat, its white sail alight with the golden glow, headed toward the sea for a sunset cruise.
The lighthouse on Stargazer Point across the inlet came to life, its bright light winking.
“That’s you, you know,” Alden said, looking out over the water.
“What?”
“The lighthouse. My beacon. My guiding light. That’s as cheesy as my writing gets, by the way.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “You should put that in your novel.”
“Aw, come on.” But he shot her a sidelong grin. “What am I writing, romance?”
“Maybe.” She swallowed a buttery spoonful of the ice cream. “All great stories have some romance in them.”
“Ours does, for sure.” He eyed her with more hesitance this time. Perhaps a little worry. A little doubt?
Life was full of doubt. But she didn’t want him to have one second’s doubt about them. She set the ice cream cup on the table, dug into her bag for a pen, wrote on her napkin, folded it and handed it to him.
“I wanted you to have this in writing,” she said.
He set down his cup and opened the napkin.
I love you, it said.
He looked at her, his eyes twinkling. A corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m not sure this will hold up in court.”
“It’s iron-clad.” Roz placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him, tasting all the sugar and wit and silliness and courage and strength of him as he kissed her back.
When they finished, the sun had slipped below the horizon. But the light was still magical, and the night was still young.
Thanks for reading! Roz and Alden will return in Ink and Infamy.