Chapter Fifteen
The first light of dawn filtered through the living room as Linus stirred awake. Feeling the weight of Lake’s head still resting on his chest, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, reluctant to disturb her. Glancing down at her face, bathed in the morning light, he made a silent vow to cherish what they had together.
But first, he had to go to the bathroom.
He gently shifted his body to the edge of the couch, hoping the movement wouldn’t wake her. But when her eyes blinked open, his lips curved. “I can’t believe we spent the night on the sofa.”
Greeted by Linus’s smile, Lake lingered in that quiet moment of intimacy a little longer, savoring the love in his eyes that mirrored the love in her heart. “I still can’t believe you brought me orchids.”
Even as the memories of last night flooded back, Linus couldn’t help but admire how Lake looked in the soft morning light. Her tousled hair and sleepy eyes only added to her beauty, and he found himself falling for her all over again. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and planted kisses across her knuckles.
“And I’ll bring you a dozen more if it means seeing you smile every day,” Linus whispered, his voice sincere. “Although the flowers can’t make up for the way I acted yesterday. I do feel responsible for what happened with Derrick. It was my idea to help find a killer.”
She propped herself on one elbow. “You inspired me to dig up a backyard. No one but you could’ve done that.”
“I’m planning to confront Greta and ask her for that video back along with any copies she made.”
She felt her heart swell at his words. Leaning in, she captured his lips in a sweet and tender kiss. “No need. Greta won’t post that video anywhere. I possess equally embarrassing footage of her falling off the stage into the minister’s lap, trying to sing an Abba song at Bodie Jardine’s bachelorette party.”
“Really? I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”
She swatted his arm and rolled her eyes. They both stood up from the couch. When the dogs bounded up, full of energy, a rumble of laughter bubbled between them. “We should probably get some sleep in an actual bed tonight. Remind me again how we ended up down here.”
Linus chuckled, his hand finding hers, intertwining their fingers together as he leaned in to press his lips to hers. “We exhausted ourselves for a couple of hours and ended up eating a late supper. We didn’t even bother taking the dogs for their nightly walk. We just collapsed on the sofa and fell asleep. As makeup sex goes, I’d say we hit a home run in that department. Why don’t you take your shower while I run home and grab some clean clothes? I’ll drop by the diner on my way back and grab breakfast. How does that sound?”
A grin tugged at her lips. “Like I don’t have to cook. While you’re gone, I’ll put out fresh water and food for the dogs. But hurry. Okay? I’m starving.”
“You got it. Be right back.”
After feeding the dogs, she took a hot shower. She fiddled with her hair, then picked out an outfit for work, settling on a flowery cotton midi dress with pockets that she could wear with her ankle boots.
Downstairs, Lake made a fresh pot of coffee and waited for Linus to return with the food. But he was taking a long time coming back. Instead of walking in the door, her cell phone alerted her to a text message from him.
Waiting for the cops to get here. Someone broke into my house.
Oh no. Are you okay?
Yeah.
Stay put. I’ll pick up breakfast and be right there.
She didn’t waste time gathering her keys, bag, and phone before rushing out the door. Lake’s heart raced as she got behind the wheel of her Beetle and backed out of the garage. She forgot about breakfast as she flew through the neighborhood streets to Linus’s house, fear gnawing at her insides. The drive seemed to take forever.
By the time she made the turn into Windemere Circle, she spotted the flashing lights of a patrol car and swerved to the curb, parking behind the vehicle.
Linus stood on the porch, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and anger. He thumbed a fist behind him. “They trashed the place. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to make sure I knew they broke in.”
Rushing up the steps, she hugged him tight, relief flooding through her at the sight of him unharmed. “When do you think it happened?”
“I have no idea. I’ve been spending a lot of time at your place. Colt Del Rio got here fast, though. He’s been assessing the damage, taking photos, and writing his report.”
“How did they get in?” Lake asked, her voice laced with concern.
Linus sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “They smashed the back door in. They took some food from the pantry and fridge. Not a big deal, but Colt thinks they hung around for at least twelve hours.”
“Wow. They were in your house for that long?” Lake felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of someone invading his safe space. But she also felt grateful that Linus and Farley hadn’t been home.
“Did you get anything to eat?”
“No. But I’m taking you to breakfast as soon as Colt finishes up. No need to argue. You need to de-stress before you start cleaning up the mess. Glynnis will be fine opening up until I get there.”
Colt appeared in the doorway, holding a clipboard. “If you find anything else missing, give me a call. In the meantime, Theo will be by later to dust for fingerprints. Don’t move a thing. But you’ll likely need to replace that back door and the frame.”
“Luckily, today’s my day off,” Linus said with another sigh.
“Be that as it may, you need to leave it until Theo arrives and finishes processing the scene.”
“Okay. Is there anything else I need to do after getting hit like this?”
“Shore up your security,” Colt suggested. “We’ve had a rash of break-ins like this all over town. Someone even broke into the Promise Cove BB while Jordan and Nick were at the church back in March.”
“With guests still there?” Lake asked. “That’s bold. What about the children?”
“The guests were out on a hike. Hutton and Scottie were staying with friends. We have the unsub on CCTV. But the man hid his face away from the camera.” Colt ripped off a copy of the police report for insurance purposes and handed it to Linus. “This guy is on our radar now. We just need to find out who he is. I know Eastlyn plans to put up sketches of the guy this morning along Main Street. Make sure you pick up a flyer. Let us know if you recognize him. If not, keep an eye out, keep your guard up.”
After Colt had gone, Lake stepped into the house to assess the damage. Chairs were overturned in the living room and the couch cushions had been dumped on the floor. She scanned the open layout of the eating area where the intruder had left a plate and glass on the table. “I’m assuming Theo will need those for fingerprints.”
Linus nodded. “I hate to think what might’ve happened if Farley had been here alone. This guy might’ve hurt my dog.”
“Do you think the break-ins have anything to do with the serial murders?”
“I don’t know. Why would a cold-stone killer start breaking into houses?”
“Maybe he lost his place to live through an eviction or something. Look, why don’t you stay here while I get that breakfast I promised.”
Linus surveyed the broken items in the kitchen. “I’d like to start cleaning up. Maybe Theo will be here sooner rather than later.”
She looped her arm through his. “I doubt the burglar will come back while we’re eating breakfast. My treat. Come on, let’s indulge ourselves with the Thursday morning special.”
“That includes a large stack of pancakes, doesn’t it?”
“All you can eat. What do you say? What better way to get your mind off all this than sugar overload, carbs, and protein?”
The Hilltop Diner looked like a time capsule, a vibrant throwback to an era of jukeboxes, poodle skirts, and greased hair.
As soon as they opened the door, the scent of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. The smell of scrambled eggs and just-baked pies drifted from Max Bingham’s kitchen.
Lake took in the recent renovations. She almost didn’t recognize the restaurant she’d known since childhood. All the memories came rushing back. She’d been dropping in after school to eat ice cream cones as far back as she could remember. And later, as a teenager, on lazy summer days when she used her babysitting money to order a thick chocolate milkshake to take to the beach. Then there were times her dad would treat them to Max’s greasy burgers for dinner, served with the crispiest fries on the planet. Add in Margie’s coconut cream pies for dessert or all the crisp, fall Sunday mornings her father had brought her here for pumpkin pancakes before heading to church and it’s a wonder she hadn’t gained fifty pounds during her formative years.
She couldn’t believe the changes, couldn’t believe that Ryder McLachlan had finally talked Margieinto renovating the inside. Gone were the ratty furnishings—the sticky duct tape patches that would cling to your clothes or bare legs if you were wearing shorts. Gone were the dirty walls and old floor.
But still steeped in the reminiscent era of the 1950s, The Hilltop Diner continued to show off a vibrant color palette with turquoise bar stools, a glittery white countertop with black and red banding across the bottom, accented in shiny stripes of chrome. Margie had brought in brand new vinyl booths and alternated the colors in flaming red and white and glittery blue and white patterns. Turquoise tables and chairs gleamed with a silvery shine. She’d kept the same black and white checkered pattern on the floor, except now the linoleum was made from durable, anti-bacterial vinyl. The newly plastered walls were no longer smeared with grease stains but now sported retro movie posters and pictures of Hollywood stars like James Dean, Elvis, Lauren Bacall, and Humphrey Bogart.
As they sat across from each other in one of the blue booths, Buddy Holly crooned in the background about pretty Peggy Sue. A few patrons nodded in greeting, while others merely waved.
Margie welcomed them with a smile and new menus. “What do you think of the place?”
“I feel like I’ve been transported back in time,” Linus declared.
“That’s the feeling I wanted to convey,” Margie noted with pride. “It’s amazing what new fixtures and replacing all the old stuff can do for a new attitude. Max and I get up every day and love coming to work.”
“As long as Max can still whip up the same great pancakes, I’m all for it,” Lake remarked. “You even got new tunes on the jukebox.”
“Our regular customers and tourists seem to like the super oldies. But we dish up the same great breakfast, lunch, and dinner we’ve always served,” Margie promised. “A new refrigeration system and new grill aren’t as impressive as the new furniture, though, huh? What can I get you two for breakfast?”
Lake didn’t even need to look at the menu. “A small stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon for me with coffee and lots of creamer.”
“I’ll take the large stack with scrambled eggs, coffee, and a tall orange juice.”
“You got it,” Margie said before walking back toward the grill to give Max their order.
Out of earshot, Linus leaned in and whispered, “I don’t miss the sticky feel of the seats.”
“Or the sticky menus,” Lake offered with a wink, suddenly thinking about her own old home. “I guess it proves there comes a time when you have to spend money on a renovation.”
“You’re considering a major overhaul at home?”
“I’ve been setting aside money for a while now since Dad put the deed in my name. Let’s face reality: My place is a lot older than this diner. It might be nearing time to consider replacing the mid-century-era plumbing.”
“It’s not so bad. At least you get hot water. In my old place in Sausalito, the hot water heater was so old the bottom rusted out, and I had to deal with it leaking every day. It was one of those places where the hot water heater was located in the attic. The landlord refused to replace it.”
“I can see why you wanted out of there.”
Margie brought over their coffee and the fresh orange juice. “Food will be right out.”
“Thanks,” Lake said as she stirred cream into her coffee. “Uh-oh. I think I forgot to turn off the coffee pot back home. I ran out of there so fast after getting your text,”
“Does it have an automatic shut-off? If not, I’ll check on my way back home.”
“No, it’s one of those cheap Mr. Coffee models. Wow, I just realized I really need to upgrade my coffeemaker. Am I that cheap?”
Margie delivered their plates piled high with generous portions of eggs and pancakes. “Here you go. Enjoy. Holler if you need anything else.”
Linus unrolled his silverware from the paper napkin and wasted no time slathering butter on his pancakes.
Lake dug into her eggs before dousing her pancakes in syrup. Savoring each bite, she leaned her back against the booth and picked up her coffee to sip. “I’d offer a theory about the break-ins, except that I promised Brent Cody I’d stay out of police business.”
“You have a suspect in mind?”
“No suspect. But I think I know why he’s breaking into people’s houses.”
“Why?”
“He seeks attention. He wants people to notice him.”
“Or he’s addicted to the thrill of it all. Or addicted to drugs in general.”
“If that were the case, he’d be stealing anything of value he could get his hands on. I don’t think it’s that. It sounds to me like he’s gathering intelligence on those people he decides need scouting,” Lake pointed out. “Maybe he’s stalking certain people.”
“Why would he do that?”
She was about to come back with an answer when she heard a loud roar that sounded like a freight train slamming into a building. The windows in the diner shook. People inside scattered and darted to the nearest window to see what was happening. People on Main Street turned their heads west and started running toward Smuggler’s Bay.
Someone on the street yelled, “A boat’s blown up! There’s a fire in the harbor!”
Linus stood up and saw what they meant. He stared at an intense flash of light, with orange flames shooting fifty feet into the air. Billowing black smoke seemed to circle overhead and drift eastward toward downtown.
A few moments later, another explosion rang out like a cannon blast, followed by a cacophony of cracking wood, shattering glass, and panicked screams. Another boat splintered into pieces, debris flying in all directions, sending fragments of shrapnel into the water and onto nearby boats. As a succession of fiery blasts continued to light up the morning sky, the smoke colored the air with shades of black and gray.
The phone Linus carried in his pocket vibrated with a message. He dug it out to see a text from the fire captain, then another from the hospital.
“I’m getting called into work,” he announced to Lake, who pressed into his side to get a better look at the towering fire.
“Go on,” Lake urged. “I’ve got this. Stay safe. Call me when you can,” she said as she watched him dart out the door.
Linus ran to his pickup, jumped in, and made a left turn onto Crescent Street. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the pier, where a crowd had gathered. Making his way through the throng of gawkers, he took in the scene. The fireball and plume of black smoke rose sixty feet above the marina. The force of the explosion had not yet hit the fuel dock. But it was a possibility.
The stench of burning wood and metal hung in the air, accompanied by the acrid odor of fuel and chemicals. The smell was suffocating, choking anyone who breathed it in. Pelicans and seagulls scattered, trying to dodge the flames.
Reaching high into the sky, the blaze projected an eerie orange banner across the harbor like a fireworks display gone horribly wrong. Flames licked at the sides of several sailboats, cruisers, and fishing trawlers, blackening their hulls in a matter of minutes. In a chaotic dance, more black smoke rose into the sky, blotting out the sun.
He spotted two fishermen attempting to pour water over the flames. The ensuing sparks engulfed other boats, potentially adding massive fuel to the already out-of-control fire.
Linus ran to the dock, joining the fishermen along the pier in a bucket brigade. As people passed buckets from one person to the other, he could feel the intense heat radiating off the top of the water, causing his skin to prickle and sweat to trickle down his face. Soon, Colt Del Rio and Theo Woodsong stood alongside him, increasing the chain.
“The fire department should be pulling up any time now,” Linus told the others as he heard the sirens blaring in the distance.
“Does anyone know what happened?” Colt asked. “It’s like a bomb went off.”
Brent Cody came running up behind them. “What the hell happened here? It looks like a war zone.”
Linus glanced at the others before shaking his head. “I have no idea, but we need to focus on putting out the fire first. Later we can figure out the cause,” he replied, handing Theo a bucket as they worked in unison to douse the flames. “For now, let’s keep it contained before it spreads to the pier.”
As the bucket brigade continued their desperate attempt to gain control, another explosion rocked one of the fishing trawlers. Debris flew through the air again, causing panic among the onlookers.
Linus shielded his face as wood fragments and metal rained down around them. “We need to move these people back to the street,” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. His eyes wide with fear, he gestured toward the entire bay. “If that fire reaches the wharf, the whole thing could collapse at any moment.”
While Brent cleared the people back from the pier, Linus motioned to Colt, “We need to shut off the emergency valve to the fuel dock. Otherwise, it could go up any minute.”
Colt held up a hand. “I’ll do it. You stay here and keep the water coming.”
But as Colt took off, Linus saw Daniel Cardiff appear from the alleyway behind Vanilla Bean Machine, hustling toward him and pulling a water hose.
While others ran toward safety, Linus met Daniel midway to help move the hose closer to the worst of the flames. The two men stood firm as the heat intensified, and the fire slapped at anything within its reach.
“One of your boats?” Linus shouted.
“Not yet,” Daniel yelled back. “Mine’s moored on the south side of the harbor. Most of the flames are in the middle. The wind must be pushing twenty knots, though.”
“Surface wind is picking up,” Linus decided. “Feel it?”
“I do now,” Daniel said.
The distant wail of sirens grew louder until several fire trucks screeched to a halt in front of the pier. Firefighters in heavy gear established an attack line, stretching their pre-connected handline from the onboard tank to reach the flames. A third engine moved in a crane and laid a supply line from the nearest hydrant for an ongoing water supply. Together they began pouring massive amounts of water on top of the raging inferno as steam rose up where water met fire.
The combined efforts began to make a dent. Minutes felt like hours as firefighters relentlessly battled the flames until finally, the last flicker of fire was extinguished. The once vibrant harbor was now a smoldering black sea of burned-out boats. The strong odor of burnt fuel and melting plastic hung in the air, colliding with the salty tang of the ocean.
Firemen began pulling out survivors with their clothing burned off or their clothes dripping with oil, some with severe burns, each struggling for air.
Behind him, Linus heard his name. He wheeled around to see Lake rushing toward him. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he let her head fall onto his chest and realized she was his lifeline.
Linus held her tight, her body trembling with the force of held-back sobs. The weight of the day’s events settled heavily on his shoulders. The devastation was palpable, the loss of livelihoods and memories etched in the charred remains before them.
“I was so worried,” Lake whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt. Linus kissed her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair. “We could see the smoke getting worse from the diner. I would’ve been here sooner, but Eastlyn kept us back, away from the pier.”
“It”s a good thing she did. The entire pier could’ve gone up in smoke.” When he realized she was still shaking, his fingers gently combed through her hair as he murmured, “It’ll be okay now. Everything can be replaced.”
“Did anyone…was anyone killed?” Lake asked.
Linus swallowed hard. “I heard Matt O’Malley was one of the first.”
The O’Malley’s were a father-and-son commercial fishing outfit that had been in business for three decades.
“Oh, no. Does Dave know?”
“Not yet. Firefighters pulled Dave out of the water, unconscious, and got him to the first aid station we set up. By now, maybe Gideon or Quentin have talked to him.”
“That’s so sad. Those two have been fishing together for ten years or more. They just now turned their business around after the salmon dried up last year, and Dave decided to switch from catching salmon to harvesting shrimp.”
“I know. It’s heartbreaking. But there are three other fishermen—Ossie Payton, Darren Jones, and Van Nguyen—who have lost not only their livelihood but also their homes. Those guys lived on their boats.”
“It’s a miracle they weren’t killed. How did this happen, Linus? Were the explosions accidents or deliberate?”
“No one knows yet. But I heard the fire chief talking about it. He’s leaning toward arson. Four boats up in flames at the same time—it’s likely deliberate.”
As they stood together, arms locked around each other, they looked out on the charred remains of the harbor. The firefighters hustled to contain the spilled oil that hadn’t burned off and corral the debris to keep from polluting the water even further. The once picturesque harbor now lay in ruins, a stark reminder of the destructive power that had swept through it.
When Lake finally pulled back, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I don’t know how we’ll recover from this,” she uttered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper.
Linus gazed out at the destruction; his jaw clenched in determination. “The boats are replaceable,” he said, his tone unwavering despite the turmoil churning inside him. “Together as a town, we’ll find a way to come back. The folks here don’t quit. They help each other.”
Lake offered him a small, watery smile, her hand reaching out to link with his. Amidst the wreckage and ruin, a silent vow passed between them—a promise to rise from the ashes stronger than before.
As they turned to face each other, Quentin Blackwood called his name. “Linus, we need an extra pair of hands over at the first aid station.”
“Headed there now,” Linus responded. He turned back to Lake and took her shoulders. “Fixing my back door pales in comparison to this.”
She patted his chest and moved in to press a kiss to his lips. “You go do your thing. Don’t worry about the back door. I’ll take care of it.”