Chapter Fourteen
Lake’s digging up Derrick’s pet rabbit spread like wildfire around town. At work, she endured the jokes and teasing with a smile and a nod, every minute drilling down to a new level of humiliation.
Glynnis tried to cheer her up in motherly fashion. The older woman clucked her tongue at the insults. “Don’t listen to them. You’re the best librarian we’ve ever had. Don’t let them get to you.”
“I did an incredibly stupid thing,” Lake replied. “They’re simply reminding me.”
“We’ve all done stupid things,” Glynnis noted. “I once set fire to my trash can when I emptied live embers from a charcoal grill we’d used earlier in the day for a cookout. All I wanted was to clean up after the barbecue. Instead, the entire trash can caught fire and spread to my neighbor’s shrubbery and then to the eaves of her house. Our homeowner’s insurance paid for the damage, but Ron, my husband, threw that incident up to me for at least a decade. We almost got a divorce over it. I thought he’d never let me live it down. But all I had to do was wait for him to do something equally stupid. When he tried to spray paint our outdoor dining set on a very windy day, all the paint ended up on the side of the house. We ended up having to replace the siding.”
Lake smiled at the story and gave the woman a hug. “Thanks, Glynnis. I needed that. You’re the best.”
“Well, here’s something else to consider. If Greta tries to post that video on Instagram, you also have a little nugget in your arsenal. All you have to do is remind her about karaoke three years ago.”
Lake chuckled. “I’d forgotten Bodie’s bachelorette party. Greta had too much to drink, talked me into going up on stage with her to sing Mamma Mia and she ended up falling off the edge into the arms of a very shocked and surprised Seth Larrabee.”
Glynnis hooted at the memory. “Seth was only there to drop off Ophelia’s medicine she’d forgotten to take before the party. Bodie took a video of the whole thing happening in real-time.”
“I feel better already. Thanks,” Lake responded again.
Everyone got a laugh out of Lake’s misery, everyone except Brent Cody, who showed up at the library that afternoon right before closing. Although she hadn’t received a lecture from Derrick, the police chief made up for that in quick order. His sharp gaze bore into her as he approached the front desk, his expression somber.
“Do I need to remind you about the seriousness of trespassing?” Brent began, “Because everyone has a gun these days. You could’ve been shot going into Derrick’s backyard uninvited. Or have you learned a valuable lesson about taking matters into your own hands?”
Lake let out a sigh. “I’ve learned my lesson. From now on, I’m relying on you to catch the bad guys. No more amateur sleuthing for me.”
“That’s what I like to hear. If, in the future, you suspect someone is up to no good, you pick up the phone and call us with a tip. Understood?”
“Understood. Plus, I apologized to Derrick. I don’t even want to discuss the reason I went there in the first place. That whole discussion is off the table.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Believe it. I’m done looking for a killer. I’ll leave that to law enforcement. You have my word on it.”
After spending hours listening to people around him make fun of Lake’s bold move, Linus finished his shift in a foul mood, regretting their fight. By the time he walked outside to the parking lot, she had become the brunt of jokes meant to demean.
With each cruel diss, Linus felt a surge of protectiveness toward her. He couldn’t shake off the guilty feeling that gnawed at him for not standing up for her. As he got into his truck, he knew he had to make things right. He could do that when he picked up Farley. But he had to make the gesture sincere and maybe grand in a way that would scream, “I’m sorry for not letting it go.” And he knew just the thing that Lake Marigold loved.
Without another thought, he drove to The Plant Habitat and strolled into the nursery on a mission. Linus scanned the rows of vibrant greenery, searching for the perfect plant. His eyes landed on a stunning orchid, its delicate petals a striking shade of violet purple. From their earlier trip here, he already knew that Lake was fond of orchids. But she refused to spend the twenty-five dollars on buying one when the lowly daisy or carnation was just as fragrant and pretty, and she could grow as many of those flowers as she wanted.
He spotted what he was looking for—something called a lemonade strawberry orchid in pale yellow with bright pink spots exploding from the center of the bloom. Its sweet-smelling fragrance didn’t compare to a daisy or a petunia. The petals shimmered like liquid gold. He was struck by how tall they were—at least sixteen inches in height—and by how many colors he had to choose from. He looked around for a cart and added more pots with white, orange, and various shades of purple blossoms.
As he pushed the cart toward checkout, he couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves in his chest. Would she accept his apology? Would she understand the depth of his regret?
He approached the cashier, Shiloh Jones, with twinkling eyes and a sunny smile on her lips.
“This looks like you’re getting ready for an apology tour.”
“Is it that obvious?” Linus asked as he waited for the damage.
“These are for Lake, right? Let me guess. Like everyone else in town, you made fun of her digging up Bella. Am I right?”
“Guilty.”
“Ah. Can I give you a tip?”
“Sure.”
She took three steps away from the register to a card display. After rummaging through the selections, Shiloh pulled out an “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings” card with a cute puppy on the front. “Lake’s a sucker for cards with dogs. Plus, the inside is blank, so feel free to write your own sentiments to make up for any stupid thing you said.”
“Good idea,” Linus muttered as he swiped his credit card.
Shiloh packed each pot into a larger box and rolled off enough pale blue ribbon from underneath the counter to go around the perimeter. After tying a bow around the box, she stood back to admire her handiwork. “Left over from Easter,” she explained. “You’d be surprised how many potted plants and flowers we sell as ‘I’m Sorry’ gifts, especially tulips or lilies of the valley. I like to keep spools of festive ribbon on hand to brighten up the presentation. Drea isn’t the only one who likes to make sure your apology is delivered in a pretty package.”
“You don’t think this many orchids is overkill?” Linus asked.
“Honey, when a woman receives flowers, she never thinks it’s too many. Trust me.”
As he left the nursery—two hundred dollars poorer—the weight of his guilt began to lift. Determined to make things right with Lake, he took the time to scrawl his handwritten sentiment and apology on the inside of the card.
Ready to face Lake, he headed toward Bishops Bay.
A few minutes later, he pulled into her driveway to pick up Farley.
With the box of orchids cradled in his arms, Linus walked up to the front door and rang the bell as butterflies danced in his stomach. From inside, he heard the sound of dogs barking, then their paws skidding on the floor.
Lake opened the door, surprised at what she saw, Linus holding the box of orchids. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she was speechless. But then her face softened, her lips curving into a smile. “You bought me orchids.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you can—”
“I overreacted,” Lake blurted out as the dogs danced in place between the two. Without a word, she stepped onto the porch, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. She kissed his cheek before directing her attention to the flowers, examining each color.
“These are beautiful,” Lake finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t need to do this.”
“Yeah, I did. Knowing we were at odds with each other made for a long, miserable afternoon. I didn’t like the way it made me feel.”
“Neither did I. Well, come on in,” she offered, tugging at his hand. “My neighbors have enough to gossip about already. Let’s not give them a reason to come up with more.”
He stepped into the foyer, and it felt like coming home. “Where do you want the orchids?”
“Let’s take them to the sunroom.”
Linus followed Lake as the fragrant scent of orchids wafted through the air. The sunroom was bathed in the waning light of evening, scattering faint shadows over the lush greenery that already resided there. She flitted around the room, rearranging pots to make space for the new flowers, eventually clearing an entire sofa table nestled next to a window. “Most orchids prefer a southern exposure. This spot will be perfect for them.”
As Linus carefully set down the box, he watched as she picked up each plant, sniffing the blossom before settling on a position that would receive the most sun.
“I got you a card,” Linus offered, handing it off.
She clutched the envelope to her chest, but her gaze lingered on the flowers. “This might be the best peace offering I’ve ever received. But I can’t wait to read the card.”
Her fingers lifted the flap. Blinking back tears, she read the sentiment inside and then pivoted toward him, laying a hand on his cheek. “It’s not your fault people were saying things about me. I did a stupid thing. I’ll just have to ride it out until they find something else to talk about. It isn’t the first time.”
His hands went around her waist, pulling her closer. “Let them talk,” Linus said softly, falling into the blue depths of her eyes. “Who cares what they say? I should’ve let it go sooner.”
Lake’s shoulders relaxed as she leaned into his touch. “I’m glad you feel that way,” she whispered.
He took her chin, his lips curving into a smile. “From here on out, I’ll always have your back, no matter what happens, because I care about you. And what you said about me wanting to get involved in catching the serial killer was pretty accurate. I’m the one who suggested it.”
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Lake asked softly. “We can discuss it over burritos.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Linus replied, his gaze never leaving hers. “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome here again.”
“I had your dog. I knew you’d at least come by to pick up Farley,” Lake cracked.
They stood in the sunroom, surrounded by the delicate aroma of the orchids, their unspoken feelings rising to a fever pitch. In that fleeting moment, the fading light outside painted soft hues across the room, obliterating the tension that once clouded their morning. Like mist dissipating at dawn, it left behind a newfound sense of understanding and closeness that hadn’t been there earlier.
He pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft at first, an uncertain exploration of emotions that had been building. But as the warmth spread, it ignited into something more intense. Linus pulled Lake closer, his hands cradling her face as if she were the most precious gift in the world.
Lake melted into the embrace, feeling a sense of belonging she hadn’t known she was missing. The kiss held a promise of things to come, of unspoken words and shared moments that would bind them together in ways they couldn’t yet understand. As they pulled away, their eyes locked in a silent conversation filled with hope and longing.
“We could forego those burritos and head upstairs,” Lake suggested, wriggling her brows up and down. She latched onto his shirt. “Makeup sex. Cathartic for resolving underlying tension.”
“I said you were smart. This time we barricade ourselves in the bedroom without the dogs,” he muttered as he led her toward the back staircase.
“Now who’s the smart one?”
Later that evening, after dinner, they cuddled together in the living room in front of a fire surrounded by dogs. The crackling of the wood was the only sound in the room as Linus brushed his fingers through Lake’s hair, a tender gesture that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.
Entwined on the sofa, Lake leaned her head against Linus’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. As the hours slipped by unnoticed, they found comfort in each other’s quiet embrace, a sense of peace settling over them like a soft blanket.
As the night deepened and the fire burned low, as sleep finally claimed them, they drifted off like kindred spirits. Neither had spoken about murder or seemed to care about catching a killer.
But somewhere out in the darkness, a killer watched his prey. She walked, without knowing her fate, down the dimly lit street to her car. With each step she took, his heart raced, the adrenaline pumping, and exhilaration building in his chest. Her day would come soon enough, he thought. His breath hitched with sick excitement as he pictured how her death would play out.
He had been following her for weeks now, studying her every move, learning her routines. She was oblivious to the danger lurking nearby, completely unaware of the imminent threat that loomed over her.
Holding a knife that glinted in the moonlight, he realized he wouldn’t need it. Just as he’d done before with a few of the others, he’d use his bare hands to wrap around her throat. That was the most satisfying aspect of all—playing God and watching the life drain from his victim.