Chapter Nine
The first of Linus’s chores was getting the dogs clean. The second was to make sure they couldn’t use the doggie door again until the backyard had dried up by blocking the flap. He also cleaned up the poop outside. An inaccessible back lawn meant he had to take them on a walk around the neighborhood, which got him plenty of curious stares from prying eyes.
Linus shrugged it off as friendly small-town fodder for the rumor mill. As he stripped the bed and took the sheets down to the laundry room, he had no doubt that by tonight everyone in town would know he’d spent the night with Lake Marigold.
Musing over the gossip it would generate, he was so tired he barely had the energy to clean up the breakfast dishes and silence his phone before dropping onto the couch around one-thirty for a quick nap.
The dogs woke him up at four thirty, ready to go out again. Begrudgingly, Linus groaned and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his back from falling asleep on the sofa. He dragged himself out of his makeshift cocoon, rubbed his bleary eyes, and felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. After stumbling to his feet, he checked his phone for messages before slipping on his trainers as the dogs yipped around him, eager to get outside.
Pushing himself to muster up some energy, he grabbed their leashes and stepped outside onto the porch. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, painting a velvety ribbon of pink up and down the street as he walked down the familiar sidewalk with the dogs. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers on the wind with a hint of jasmine.
As they strolled along, Linus waved at Lake’s neighbors as if he took the dogs for walks here every day. He waved at people sitting on their porches or tending to their rain-soaked yards. They wandered past picket fences, with the canines having to stop to sniff every tree and mark every fire hydrant in sight. The dogs bounded ahead, their tails wagging in a happy flip-flop as they tried to chase after a couple of squirrels.
Even though the tranquil neighborhood was much like his own, the full weight of the day hit him at that moment of awareness. With the smell of salty air, wet sand, and seaweed hanging in the balance, the events of the morning came rushing back. The memory of Lake’s laughter, her smile, that body moving under his, and the easy way they’d made love. He realized not a trace of awkwardness existed between them afterward.
As the dogs tugged at their leashes, eager to explore every crack in the sidewalk, Linus veered them back toward the house. There was an eagerness in his step as he looked forward to the night ahead with Lake.
By the time Linus and the dogs made it back to Bishops Bay, Lake was already home from work. The mutts trotted into the entryway like happy pups, ready to settle in for the evening. A polite Jack plopped his butt on the wooden floor first, anxious to get rid of his leash. Scout followed suit, sitting patiently waiting to be released while Farley wanted to chew the leash off himself and refused to sit still.
“Calm down,” Linus instructed. “See how well-behaved your sister is?”
Once free of restraints, all three dogs dashed off toward the sunroom to get a fresh drink of water and lap up the chow their human had left in their bowls for dinner.
“I’ve already put out food,” Lake called out to Linus from the study.
“Where are you?” Linus yelled back. “Give me some idea how to reach you.”
Laughing, she hollered back, “Two doors down across from the living room.” When he popped his head into the study, she let out a whoop. “I thought you’d never make it here. Didn’t you do any exploring this afternoon while I was gone?”
He walked into a room surrounded by bookshelves on three sides stuffed all the way to the ceiling with a dozen sets of encyclopedias, lots of history books, all manner of reference books on various subjects, including but not limited to non-fiction and bestsellers. “Your own personal library?”
“Something like that. Every encyclopedia salesman from here to Los Angeles saw my grandfather as an easy mark.”
“I’ll say.” He counted twelve different sets of leather-bound encyclopedias—the widely distributed World Book, Brittanica, Funk Wagnalls, Compton’s, The Americana, and the lesser-known British volumes of The Children’s Encyclopedia along with its US counterpart The Book of Knowledge—some sets dated back to the 1920s. “Your grandfather bought all these?”
Stretched out on the couch, she sat up on one elbow. “My great-grandfather started the madness. By then, my grandfather, still a boy himself, was hooked, too. As you can see, the vintage ones are from the early twentieth century. Full disclosure: I can’t stand to see people ripping out pages of books—any books— just to do stupid projects that require shredding their entire existence. I’ve been known to bring home entire sets of encyclopedias that people want hauled away for whatever reason.”
“Hmm. So you save books from total eradication. I like that.” But his interest in books morphed into something else. He took in the way her body sprawled on the sofa, the way her long legs and bare feet hung off one end. She had the cutest toes.
He shook off the lust for the moment and brought himself back into the conversation. “The only exploring I did while you were gone was walking the dogs. At the time, your backyard was pretty much eighteen inches of standing water. It took me almost forty-five minutes to get all the mud off these guys. By the way, you have a nice setup downstairs for shampooing and grooming. Your idea?”
“I’ve had dogs as far back as I can remember. I got Jack after the dog I grew up with died—another terrier mix—Bronte was her name. She was cute as a button, fifteen when her kidneys shut down, and Cord had to put her down. That was the saddest day of my life. I wasn’t even thinking about another dog until Cord found Jack about six weeks later. I had to wait for Cord to give him the all-clear before I could adopt him, though. Jack helped me heal.”
Linus settled into an armchair across from the sofa, his gaze lingering on her as she spoke about her beloved Bronte and the arrival of Jack. The way her eyes softened and sparkled as she recounted the story tugged at something inside him, a feeling he wasn”t quite ready to put a name to. Instead, he changed the subject again.
“You have quite the collection of hardcovers from the 1960s,” Linus remarked, gesturing to the towering shelves around them. “Any favorites?”
Lake’s face lit up as she sat up a little straighter, clearly eager to share her passion. “Oh, where do I start? I have a soft spot for classic literature, but I also love diving into historical fiction and biographies. There’s just something about getting lost in a different time period or someone else’s fascinating trials and tribulations, their journey through life, which always captivates me.”
Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Linus found himself drawn into an exchange about his favorite historical genre—the 1930s to 1940s—especially those years during World War II. “There’s something about how men and women of that era sacrificed for the greater good. That kind of thing always draws me in. I might have to start reading a few of your gardening books, too. I noticed your garden survived because you had the forethought to put in raised beds.”
“Although the storm destroyed my little tomato plants,” Lake grumbled. “I knew I should’ve waited an extra week before planting. That’s what happens when I don’t check the Farmer’s Almanac. Oh well. I’ll deal with the damage tomorrow.” She sat up straighter and picked up her phone, swiping to her text messages. “Tomorrow. Oh, gosh, I almost forgot about the community meeting on Sunday afternoon after church service. The potluck luncheon where Brent is supposed to ease our fears about the serial killer. I got busy at work and completely put it out of my mind. I’ll probably need to bake something for it, even though Jordan texted me earlier that she’s handling the food. Jolene still wants to bring a dish too. So does your mom.”
“My mom?”
“I saw her today. She came in for emergency supplies. I gave her jugs of water, canned goods, and some extra batteries. We talked for almost half an hour. She told me I should call her Annette. She asked me to dinner.”
Linus shook his head. “Did she now? Shows how desperate she is to marry off her son.”
Lake tried to hide a giggle. “Yes, I got that impression. If she could, I’m convinced she’d pimp you out on TikTok.”
Linus roared with laughter. “Did she also mention that I told her to give us time before she had you over for dinner? And it seems she went behind my back at the first opportunity. You know she took advantage of the storm to approach you, right? I swear she has spies all over town.”
“That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think?”
“Oh, really? Did I mention that Mom arrived five minutes after you left my house yesterday morning because my neighbor Mrs. Beaumont called her to tell her you’d stopped by my house?”
“Oh. Well. That is kind of extreme, keeping tabs on you like that.”
“And she’s still butting in after my takedown yesterday.”
“Sorry, but I have no experience in the mother department. Zero. My dad always gave me space. He never seemed overly concerned about my dating. Probably because I didn’t go out that much as a teenager. Has your mom always been this interested in your love life?”
“Not really. Just the last five years since my dad died. I hope she isn’t scaring you off.”
Lake grinned. “It would take more than Annette to do that.”
“Good to know you won’t let her manipulate you. What will you bring to the luncheon?”
“That’s easy. I make this simple cheesy mac dish that people seem to love. And I could throw together a batch of brownies. Comfort food always helps when you’re discussing a serial killer.”
“Are you sure Brent is on board with this meeting?”
“Jordan told me someone from law enforcement would be at the meeting. I take her at her word.”
“Ah. I bet Brent will send an emissary in his place, likely Eastlyn. She’s good with community relations and the media. Is this meet-up just for women?”
“Of course not. Everyone’s welcome.”
Lake got up to run her fingers over the leather-bound books. “If you see a book you want to read, go for it. Although it seems you have very little downtime to spend reading. You haven’t been home long enough to read the labradoodle books, have you?”
“I browsed through one during my shift last night for about thirty minutes to get a few pointers. But then I got a call. The thing is, I wanted to have supper ready for you tonight when you came home, a nice romantic dinner.”
“That’s sweet. But why don’t we cook dinner together? Unless you didn’t sleep.” She crossed over to where he sat, took his chin, and studied his eyes. “You napped, didn’t you? You still look tired.”
“I got four solid hours. I’m used to making do with what sleep I can grab between calls.” He also got to his feet, taking her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. “You worked today. I’ll do the cooking. Or maybe I’ll order pizza.”
“Pizza and a movie. Date night. I like the idea of that.”
“We could go out and eat there if you want, then take a walk on the beach afterward.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Just then, the dogs came bounding back into the room, their wet whiskers dripping with water, leaving little droplets on the old wooden floor. Farley made a beeline for Linus, wagging his tail furiously and demanding attention.
“Well, hello there, Farley. You really like Lake’s food, don’t you, boy?”
Farley whined or maybe groaned in response.
“I’d love a night out,” Lake began.
Before she could finish, Linus surmised, “There’s a but coming.”
She laughed. “You’re perceptive. Farley seems to need some of your undivided attention tonight. Plus, I need to throw together those brownies and the dish I’m bringing. And then there’s how tired you look. What if you ordered the pizza, and we stayed in for dinner and a movie?”
“I’d like that. We’ll need to take the dogs for a walk around the block anyway.”
“There you go. We’ll stay in, spend time with the dogs, eat, and relax on a walk. Did you bring your toothbrush?”
“I didn’t even bring a change of clothes.”
“You could drop by your house and grab some things while getting the pizza.”
His face split into a grin. “I like the way you think.”
They gorged on pizza—vegetarian for her and sausage for him—while laughing their way through Best in Show, a movie about ruthless dog owners and their cut-throat competitive spirit during dog shows.
After the movie ended, their own dogs needed to go outside. It was such a nice evening under a starlit sky that Linus decided to extend the walk. He veered them further down Pacific Street, heading toward the pier. Down the block, Lake saw firsthand the damage from the storm. Roof tiles had blown off a Spanish bungalow.
“That’s where Ross and Jill live.”
“I know. Abby and Paul Bonner’s house got the worst of it, though. The entire roof blew off,” Linus informed her. “They’re staying out at the BB until they hear from their insurance company. Ryder, Troy, and Zach start repairs on Monday.”
“Did your house suffer any damage?”
“No, thank God. A shingle or two might’ve flown off, but that’s nothing compared to what I’m seeing now.”
“I wonder if we should cancel the potluck. Or maybe change it to a dual-purpose meeting, like who needs help after the storm?”
“I’m sure the topic will come up. Jordan would’ve said something by now if she wanted to cancel it.”
Walking hand in hand, Lake glanced over at Linus, his features soft in the moonlight. She felt a surge of emotion swell in her chest, grateful for this serene moment amid the chaos of their work, serial killers, and knowing their neighbors were dealing with unexpected repairs.
“I’m glad we stayed in tonight,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “It feels nice to come home from work and just be here with you now.”
Linus squeezed her hand, their fingers entwined, his gaze meeting hers with a depth that made her heart stutter. “Me too,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “I love nights like this. But there’s something special about spending it with you and the dogs. When I’m not working, I usually walk Farley to the beach and back to get rid of his extra energy.”
The street was quiet, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the pitter-patter of paws on the sidewalk. Farley trotted ahead of the others, nose to the ground, doing his best to survey his familiar neighborhood route.
They walked in silence for a while longer until they crossed Ocean Street to the pier. The sounds changed. The waves smashed against the rocks amid the distant calls of seagulls. When they reached the sandy beach, the dogs darted back and forth, their energy boundless.
“I guess they like the night air,” Linus offered.
“The goal is to tire them out, so they’ll collapse when we get back home.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Linus noticed the cool ocean breeze lifted her mahogany brown hair. The strands flew all around her face. “Are you cold?”
She stared out into the waning light, into the blackness of the sea. Breathing air into her lungs, she watched the foamy waves as they crashed against the shore. “I should be, but I’m not. It feels wonderful. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here right now.”
Lake cackled with laughter when the dogs rolled in the wet sand, the stuff sticking to their fur like golden glitter. “I see another bath in their future. It’s amazingly simple how little it takes for them to get dirty so quickly.”
Linus tossed a piece of driftwood and watched Scout bring it back. “I think we should do this more often.”
“We will,” she returned, laying a hand on his cheek. “But right now, you need a good night’s sleep and I need to make those brownies.”
They turned back toward the house, walking side by side, shoulder brushing against shoulder.
Linus felt a warm sensation spread through him, a feeling of contentment settling in his chest. The sound of their footsteps created a soothing rhythm matching the beating of his heart. As they approached Bishops Bay, the familiar sight of Lake’s house came into view. Bathed in the soft blush from streetlights, combined with the moonlight, the place seemed to welcome him home.
Farley bounded up the steps ahead of the others, eager to reach the comfort inside. Linus couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his happy dog making himself at home here.
As she stood on the porch, Lake reached to touch his cheek. “Why don’t you head to bed? I still have things to do, like give the dogs a quick wash.”
“I’m not going to bed without you.”
Lake unlocked the door, letting the dogs in first but turned to face him, her indigo eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Are you standing there exhausted and telling me you’re going to help me bake brownies?”
“Is this our first fight?” he cracked.
The dogs reappeared on the porch, running circles around them. Their joyful dances indicated they were waiting for their humans to come inside.
Linus was about to enter the foyer when a flicker of movement caught his eye off to the right of the house. He squinted into the darkness and saw a figure running south down Bishops Bay.
“Did you see that?” Linus whispered, his voice barely audible.
Lake followed his gaze and tensed up, chills running up her arms. “I see him now. Let’s get inside.”
But Farley had seen the man, too. Reacting on instinct, the labradoodle growled before breaking into a run.
Lake could only gape as Linus flew off the porch after his dog. The chilly air rushed past him as he sprinted, his heart pounding in his chest as he chased after Farley.
The figure ahead moved fast, darting between houses. Even though Farley seemed determined to catch up, Linus lost sight of the guy in a dimly lit alleyway two blocks from Cape May. The spot kept the labradoodle sniffing the pavement as if deciding which way to head next. Breathing hard, Linus caught hold of the dog’s collar.
“Come on, boy, let’s go home,” he called out, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.
They retraced their route back to Lake’s.
She greeted them at the front door, holding an aluminum softball bat. “Someone broke in through the basement window while we were gone,” she explained, her voice trembling. “I took Scout and Jack down there to shower off the sand and noticed he’d tracked mud throughout the house. Everywhere. Was it that guy you were chasing?”
“Probably,” Linus retorted, feeling a rush of anger wash over him. He led Lake into the entryway, where he saw the muddy footprints left in the hallway.
She pointed back toward the kitchen. “He tracked mud up the back staircase, too, so I know he went upstairs.”
Anger building, Linus stuck his head into the study where they’d spent time together hours earlier. He found drawers pulled out, books knocked off shelves, and the desk ransacked. “We need to report this. Is anything missing?”
“I don’t think so.” She held up her phone. “I already called it in, though. Colt Del Rio answered the call and said Theo would be here within fifteen minutes. I told him the intruder had already gone, so it wasn’t considered an emergency. But he told me he was dealing with another break-in on Crescent Street.”
As the couple moved through the other rooms, the dogs, sensing the tension in the air, followed their every move. Linus concluded that each room had been searched, belongings scattered on the floor for the greatest effect. The loss of privacy, the sense of violation, made his blood boil.
Despite the mess left behind in the kitchen, one thing in particular caught Lake’s eye that she’d missed before—a piece of paper left on the table with a single word scribbled on it—”Remember.”
The hairs on his neck stood up as Linus read the ominous message. “Who would break in here just to leave a one-word note? And what are you supposed to remember?”
Lake’s mind raced with possibilities as she tried to think what it could mean. Suddenly, she thought of something. “A note like this was left at the front desk at the library. I’m pretty sure it was last Tuesday after I returned from lunch.”
She grabbed Linus’s arm. “Come to think of it, Greta Wilding lives on Crescent Street. You don’t suppose—?”
“We’ll ask Theo when he gets here. Until then, we leave every room as it is and take photos to show what happened here.”
“I’m scared, Linus,” Lake admitted.
“It’s okay. You have me—and I’m not going anywhere—along with three dogs that won’t let anyone come in here without alerting us.”