Chapter Three
BARRETT DIDN’T BELIEVEin love at first sight.
Frankly, after his disastrous experiences, he wasn’t sure he believed in romantic love at all. Yes, his brothers’ marriages proved otherwise, but love like that wouldn’t happen to him.
Yet the moment the newcomer in town with long chestnut-hued hair and a peculiar name had turned around on that downtown pedestrian crossing and looked at him, her doe-like eyes so wide, he’d been smitten.
It didn’t make sense to be so taken with someone who’d told him she wasn’t looking for romance and wasn’t sticking around for long, anyway. She was a foreigner, mysterious and intriguing—like a bottle the ocean carried in with a message written in a language he couldn’t translate. Only she was real, flesh and blood, and made his heart beat faster like no woman had before.
And it didn’t make sense to ask her on a date—which she’d told him couldn’t be a date, sending his heart into a tailspin.
Yet here he was, longing to take her hand as they walked along the beach. He’d never met her before or heard that melodic voice with a slight accent he couldn’t place—French, maybe?—but she reminded him of someone. Maybe it was from the movies. Or some childhood cartoon with a foreign princess he’d forgotten. Or maybe from dreams he couldn’t remember after waking up.
Everything about Tulip was perfect or seemed to be under the deep waters of secrecy. He didn’t know about any of her flaws yet—and if he’d learned about them, he probably wouldn’t notice them.
Everything about her—the gorgeous long hair, the tiny curve of those luscious lips where shiny lip gloss now sparkled in the sun and emitted a slight vanilla scent, the sadness in her hazel-brown eyes now tugging at him, the barely visible freckles now peppering her nose—yes, all of her was completely and utterly perfect. Even every one of her fingernails that she’d painted a different color with a different pattern, some of flowers, some of birds.
A white peasant blouse with embroidered faded-yellow flowers billowed over her long spring-green skirt. Though also faded and worn, it didn’t take away from her perfection but somehow added to it. And her chunky jewelry—a green birch-leaf-shaped necklace and large matching earrings—further suited her image. No cultured tulip, she was a wildflower, untamed in her beauty.
The warm, sunny day and the place were perfect, as well. But then, he’d loved the ocean and this beach since his boyhood. Sometimes, he’d escaped here with his brothers from their father’s cruelty and their many ranch chores. He winced and resisted the urge to rub his forearms, though he didn’t have bruises there any longer. As much as he loved horses, he loved puzzles and deciphering clues more, and the ocean was the biggest puzzle of them all.
Until he met Tulip.
She kept quiet.
So even though he wasn’t much of a talker, he filled the gap. “Besides the ranch, this is my favorite place in the world.” He stumbled. “Not that I’ve been to many places in the world. I can never get tired of the ocean, its mysterious murmur, its serenity.”
Her eyes scanned the horizon. Then she glanced back furtively. “It’s beautiful. But the waves are getting higher. The clouds are gathering. The air feels more humid. I know it’s sunny now, but the weather might change soon.”
He didn’t want it to. “I’ll watch the weather app. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
She chuckled without mirth. “Too late for that.”
Her words set off alarm tempered only by a dose of compassion. What had happened to her? And what was that about with someone nearly running her over? His chest muscles tightened. Maybe it was because of his profession, but he itched to check the CCTV footage from the stores closest to the pedestrian crossing to see if he could get that truck’s license plate number.
Though, of course, if it was deliberate, the license plate might be a stolen one.
She was right, though. The air was getting more humid, and he checked the weather app on his phone. No storm in the forecast, just rain later. For now, the sun was still warm and caressed his skin the way he wanted to touch her face.
What was he thinking? He’d just met her.
Yes, everything seemed perfect except for the fact that it couldn’t last. Or precisely because of that? In his profession and in life, he’d seen people appreciate much more what they were about to lose—or had lost already. Having seen so many tragic losses, he trained himself not to expect much from life.
Not even love. After all, even their father hadn’t loved them, or he wouldn’t have hurt them. A stab of irritation made him frown. He was one of the people who suspected his father’s suicide might’ve been staged. But even many years later, when he had the skills to investigate it, cold case or not, he hadn’t done so. He was too afraid of what he might find.
He stole a glance at Tulip again, returning to the present, appreciating her fresh beauty. Life was too short not to live in the moment.
The wind whipped her hair across her face, and he dredged up a lot of willpower to keep from reaching out to sweep her hair away from her skin. Again, something niggled at him. He was sure he’d never met her before, never heard her voice, and yet something about her face looked familiar.
“I work part time at my family ranch with my brothers. It’s not far from the beach.” He left an opening for her to tell him about herself.
Instead, she said, “So you’re a modern-day cowboy, huh? Seaside cowboy of sorts?”
“You can say that.” He tipped his cowboy hat to her and led her a bit further from the water as the waves increased. “But my primary job is as a private investigator.”
He was proud of who and what he was. Okay, some of his cases weren’t fascinating and showed the not-so-nice side of human nature. Okay, a lot of his cases. But he’d also helped a lot of people. In between cases, he worked hard with his brothers and enjoyed being with the people he loved in a place he loved and helping feed the country he loved. He was happy with his life. He didn’t want anything else.
Until now. He stole another glance of her lovely profile.
“That must be a fascinating job. Uncovering people’s secrets.” She stared at something beyond the horizon, then resumed her pace. “I’ve tried different jobs—too many. But for years now, I’ve designed jewelry and dabbled with tapestries. I mostly sell it online, but sometimes I travel to different craft fairs to sell in person.”
He filed away that information. “Are you here for a vacation or work?”
“Something else.” She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t ask her. Then her face brightened, teasing his memory that he’d seen those beautiful eyes before. “About two weeks ago, some gift shops in my country agreed to carry my work. Thankfully, I had enough inventory already so I could take a few weeks off anyway.” Her lips pursed. “I don’t have much of a social life.”
He could relate. “Me, either. It’s mostly just me. Well, and lots of cattle when I’m at the ranch, but they aren’t very talkative.”
That elicited another chuckle, this time with mirth, and it was music to his ears.
So, he continued, “Like my brothers, I got a puppy. But I happened to be in the middle of an intense case then, and between stakeouts and interviews, I had to leave the puppy with my veterinarian brother too many times. My lifestyle as a private investigator doesn’t bond well with having a pet.”
He released regret in a long breath. “When I took the puppy to meet a possible client, the client’s little daughter fell in love with the dog. They were a nice family. With the client’s permission, I gave it to her. It was better for the pup. According to my veterinarian brother, the dog is doing very well. I didn’t get hired for the case, but I still miss that puppy.”
She chuckled again. Then her expression turned serious. “It’s difficult to let go of someone we get attached to. Mom didn’t allow any pets, but I used to dog sit for my neighbor. I missed that dog a lot when the neighbor moved away.”
“I’m sorry.” Finally, he asked a burning question. “Do you have someone... someone special in your life?” She didn’t wear a wedding ring—yes, he’d checked—but that didn’t say much these days.
“No.” Her answer made his heart surge, but it tumbled into the warm sand when she added, “And I don’t intend to.”
Right. She’d mentioned she wasn’t looking for a romance. But that didn’t diminish his disappointment.
Then she glanced at him. “Do you?”
“I’m single.” It might be wishful thinking, but he hoped she’d asked because a tiny part of her—even if it was the size of a drop in the ocean—was interested in him.
His heart stuttered. No, this was just his imagination. He couldn’t let his attraction grow. He’d have his heart broken again.
He’d barely survived the previous time. Of course, Ellie had been nothing like Tulip here. Ellie was a rich, spoiled, selfish young woman, and he’d been blinded by her act.
Never again.
“I’d love to know more about where you’re from.”
“I... We moved to a small European country when I was little. So it’s mostly all I know. I had a rather secluded upbringing. It’s a beautiful country with lots of historical buildings and over a thousand years of history.” Her lips widened. “It borders France, so there’s a lot of French influence in tradition and food. And French is the official language.”
He did a mental fist pump. He was right about the accent. He was going to look up a few words in French. She was getting more fascinating by the moment.
“Along cobblestoned pedestrian streets, cozy cafés offer rich coffee and yummy croissants. Greenery and flowers, yes, including tulips”—she smiled—“infuse ambience with their wonderful fragrance. Mysterious castles hide armories and paintings from previous centuries. There are lots of arts and crafts and art studios and museums. Street musicians enliven the air with their spritely fiddle playing. People are friendly yet stay out of your business.”
Was the latter a hint? He stopped asking her questions despite his curiosity. Instead, he told her about the ranch and ranch animals. He couldn’t tell her about his investigations because of client confidentiality. And because, while he was in the business of uncovering people’s secrets, he was also in the business of protecting them.
The breeze shifted her hair as they walked, and he envied the breeze.
When they reached the secluded cove, a cold premonition traveled down his spine. Hopefully, it was because it was chillier inside the shady cove than outside in the sunshine. There was also some faint scent he couldn’t place.
He set the stiff cloth grocery bag down but didn’t take the food out because a new large pile of stones attracted his attention. Something about those stones bothered him. “I don’t remember those being here.”
She tilted her head, and her eyes narrowed. “Do you think someone was trying to hide something?”
“Like what?” So much for a pleasant picnic with a woman he was—let’s face it—crushing on.
“Sorry. I happen to have a suspicious mind. But with your line of work, you probably do, as well.”
“You’re right.” Maybe that was the reason for his unease. He’d seen too many sinister things during the cases he’d been hired to investigate. Still, he ignored the itch to check what could be underneath the stones because Tulip was more important.
He opened the cloth bag, determined not to let anything ruin this... this nondate. This was a lovely place away from the tourists. Somewhere he’d frequented as a child with his brothers. One of his brothers had even proposed here, and now he and his wife were about to have a baby, so that was a good sign, right?
His pulse increased over being here alone with Tulip. Even if her gaze flickered a few times to the mysterious stones, and so did his.
“Is it okay to ask whether you have any brothers or sisters?” His curiosity trumped the unease in his stomach as he spread out a tablecloth, then started removing yummy items. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Their hands met when they reached into the bag at the same time. She jerked hers back, and her cheeks pinked while his heartbeat skyrocketed.
Not a date. It wasn’t a date.
She studied the various cheeses he’d taken out as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. “I’m an only child. I don’t have much in the sense of... relatives or friends.” The final words she said in a whisper.
“I’d be glad to share my large, loud, rambunctious, but very loving family.” His light tone should let her know he was joking. Still, he meant every word. “If you... if you stay around for a while.”
“I don’t know. But I appreciate the offer.” Her hand with the potato-salad container stopped midair. Then she placed it back in the woven cloth bag. “Would you mind if we look at what’s behind or beneath that pile of stones? I have this weird feeling...”
“Frankly, me, too.” He got up and followed a few crabs that seemed as curious as he and Tulip were. He moved the heavier stones out of the way while she shifted the smaller ones.
Then she gasped and stumbled back. “Fabric!” She pointed at the swatch of the forest green. “Do you see that fabric?”
His heart tumbled, and he started working faster, clearing the stones away. His experience whispered the worst in his ear. Yet for Tulip’s sake, he struggled for an innocent explanation. “Someone might’ve just left some clothes here.”
She joined him again, though her slender fingers with magenta, turquoise, and emerald fingernails shook now. “It’s probably only my imagination, but... but... it looks like part of one of my skirts. Or at least, similar to mine.”
What? His eyes widened, and he worked faster.
When a limb with a bracelet shaped like green leaves and yellow tulips appeared, he set his lips grimly. “Please call nine-one-one. Unless... unless you want to step out of the cove.” He wanted to shield her from what he suspected they were about to uncover.
“If I can get phone reception here, I’m staying.” Her voice was low but steady.
She stepped back and pulled her phone from her skirt pocket.
As she talked to the dispatcher, he tried for a pulse on the wrist, more out of desperation than hope, and found none.
His stomach churned. He shouldn’t be touching what most likely was to become a crime scene, but he moved more stones out of the way to see chestnut-hued hair and an embroidered peasant blouse. He pushed the similarities aside as anguish tightened around his heart and squeezed. The body was cold, but rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet.
He was too late. If he’d come here earlier, maybe he could’ve saved the victim. Unless this was a hiding place and the murder was committed elsewhere. Most likely. He studied the place for clues. There was no sign of a struggle or blood anywhere. Only locals knew about this cove, so it was probably someone from his beloved hometown.
“The police are on the way. An ambulance, as well, though based on your actions nothing can be done for her.” She sounded subdued, and no wonder.
He resisted the urge to hug her to comfort her and instead moved to block her view. “I’m sorry I brought you here. Please... You don’t need to see this. Let’s step outside to guide the police in.”
“In a minute. Because I do need to see it.” Her voice turned strangled.
He could guess her reasons. “If you think your clothes look like these, it could be a coincidence. Other people can have such clothes.”
“But the bracelet is unique. I know that bracelet. I made it. It’s one of a kind.”