Chapter 2
RAD
Rad stopped himself at the corner of the inn.
Every instinct in him wanted to turn around and look back at Margo’s cottage one more time, just to make sure she was all right.
Just to see whether she was still standing in the doorway with that soft, stunned look on her face, the one she had worn after he kissed her cheek and told her he would always come find her.
Rad forced himself to start walking again.
The night air was warm and heavy, scented faintly with salt and damp wood and the lingering trace of smoke that still seemed to hang over half the town these days.
Sandpiper Shores looked peaceful from the outside.
Porch lights glowed softly. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, then quieted.
The harbor water moved with that steady hush that usually made a man think of rest.
Tonight, it only made Rad more aware of how alert he still was.
He turned the corner, out of sight of Margo’s front door, and stood in the shadows for a few minutes, listening. When enough time had passed that he would not look like a man loitering under a porch light because he had lost all common sense over a woman, he eased back the way he had come.
He stayed hidden behind the hedge line near the side path and looked toward the cottage windows. Rad could see Margo was inside.
He saw her silhouette pass through the living room, then stop at the front window. She tested the latch, then moved to the next one. A moment later, she pulled the drapes closed with brisk, efficient movements. She was still being careful, which was good and made Rad feel a little better.
A smile touched his mouth before he could stop it.
Rad’s lips still tingled from the brush of her cheek.
It had taken everything he had not to pull her into his arms and kiss her properly.
Not because he doubted what he felt, and not because he thought she would slap him, though he would have deserved it if he had overstepped.
It was because tonight was already too full with too much fear, too much damage, and too much raw feeling.
Margo did not need a man adding to the pile of confusion just because he could not keep his own pulse under control.
Still, it was getting harder to pretend he didn’t have feelings for her.
Rad had wanted to ask her out before all this trouble in town started.
He had been working up to it, waiting for the right moment, trying not to look like a man in his forties who had somehow turned shy over a woman’s smile, her sharp tongue, and the way she loved people with her whole heart.
Then the fires had escalated, the threats had sharpened, Teacups had burned, and asking her to dinner had started to feel like trying to schedule a picnic in the middle of a hurricane.
He looked at the now-dark window one last time, then forced himself to turn away.
June was waiting in Carmen’s car.
When he slid back into the driver’s seat, June looked at him, her expression knowing enough to make him wonder if he’d taken longer than he thought.
“Is Margo all locked up?” June asked.
“Yes,” Rad said, buckling his seat belt. “I waited a few minutes to make sure.”
June’s mouth softened. “Margo is one of the most wonderful people I know. She always fights for everything and everyone she loves.”
Rad started the engine and pulled away from the inn. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I saw that after meeting her only a few times when Tyler and I first arrived in Sandpiper Shores.” He hesitated, then glanced toward June. “What can you tell me about her late fiancé?”
June grew quiet for a moment, as if she were choosing where to begin.
“His name was Travis Markham,” she said. “He was a lieutenant in the fire department. He worked under Captain Shaun Parker.”
Rad nodded. “He lost his life alongside your son-in-law ten years ago.”
“Yes.” June looked out through the windshield for a second before continuing. “Travis was killed in the same fire that took Shaun’s life.”
Rad’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel. “I did hear that.”
“You can’t move here without learning about the four brave men who died that day,” June said.
“And like Willa, Margo never really moved on from it. She kept going, of course. She had to. She poured herself into her family, her friends, and Teacups. But she guarded her heart very carefully after that.”
Rad understood that more than he wanted to.
“I can understand that,” he said.
June didn’t interrupt. She just watched him intently.
Rad kept his eyes on the road. The town was quiet at this hour, but after everything that had happened lately, he was watching every intersection and mirror with more attention than usual.
“After my ex-wife and I divorced,” he said, “I met another detective. Estella López. We worked together for a while before we started dating. By the time we’d been together about a year, we were talking seriously about taking the next step.”
Pain moved through him with such clean precision that it felt almost new again.
“I hadn’t introduced her to anyone in my family yet, including Tyler,” Rad continued.
“And she had twins whom I hadn’t met either.
We both agreed we wanted to make sure it was real before involving the kids and the rest of the family.
We were being careful. Thoughtful. Responsible.
” He gave a small, humorless laugh. “At least that was the plan.”
June didn’t interrupt him.
“She went undercover on a drug bust,” Rad said. “It was supposed to be tightly controlled. It went wrong. Estella was killed the week before we planned to take our families away for a weekend and introduce everyone.”
He swallowed against the sudden pressure in his throat.
“Estella and I had already booked a big house in the Hamptons. Paid for it. The whole thing.” Rad exhaled slowly. “I had to quietly cancel it. Her kids went to stay with her parents.”
“Oh, Rad.” June’s eyes widened and filled at once with that open, unguarded compassion that always seemed to come so naturally to her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Rad managed a faint smile that didn’t feel much like one. “The hardest part was introducing the first woman I’d fallen for after the divorce to my family at her funeral.”
Silence settled between them for a few seconds, but it was not an awkward silence. It was the kind that came when the other person knew enough not to fill grief with useless words.
Rad glanced at June and caught the shine of tears in her eyes.
He felt that strange pull again, that old, impossible wish he had carried in one form or another since childhood.
When he had first met June, it had struck him how much he had always wanted a mother like her.
And if she and his father had stayed married, she could have been.
“So, you and my father…” Rad began, letting the words trail just enough to invite rather than pry.
June’s brows rose. “I thought he spoke to you about this.”
“He did,” Rad admitted. “But I’d like to hear your version too.”
June’s expression shifted. Not defensive, exactly, but thoughtful.
“Your father and I married very young,” June replied. “We were married for four years. Then, when we finished graduate school, it became painfully obvious that we were moving in different directions.”
Rad glanced at her.
“That’s nearly exactly what my father said.” A small snort escaped him. “Did the two of you rehearse this?”
A soft laugh slipped from her. “No. Not at all. It’s simply what happened.”
“How does it feel to be working with him again?” Rad smiled despite himself and turned onto the road leading toward the lighthouse.
June leaned back in her seat, looking out at the passing houses.
“Strange in some ways. Natural in others. I suppose we both needed this more than either of us realized.” She turned and smiled at him before adding, “We hadn’t seen each other in roughly thirty-eight years.”
Rad looked sharply at the road ahead, though for some reason that number lodged itself at once in his mind.
“So you really never talked at all in all those years?” Rad asked. “Not once?”
“We hadn’t seen each other or spoken to each other since then,” June said.
“Not directly. But Mina, your grandmother, and I kept in touch over the years. She was always very kind to me. Then, when Willa, Shaun, and the children moved to Sandpiper Shores, I started seeing your great-uncle Abe again during my visits.” She smiled faintly.
“I would usually come down once a year.”
“But not my dad.” Rad glanced over at her again.
“No.” June shook her head. “Your father and I were never in Sandpiper Shores at the same time. Not until now.”
“That must have been such a shock.” Rad grinned. “For both of you, I bet.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “It was. Rather embarrassingly, I passed out.” Her smile softened. “And I am glad we’re both here together this time. We’ve become friends again.”
Rad believed her. There was warmth in her voice when she spoke about his father, but there was also steadiness. Whatever else lay under the surface, they were finding their way back to something solid.
“And it is good working with him, too,” June continued.
“Back in college, when he was in his criminal justice and federal law enforcement courses, Holt used to talk through case studies and investigative exercises with me. Sometimes I would help him test theories or argue the other side of a scenario when he was preparing for class or practical assessments.”
Rad smiled. “That sounds more realistic than the story he would probably tell.”
June’s laugh was quieter this time, but real. “Your father always did enjoy sounding more mysterious than he was.”
He pictured his father in his twenties, serious and brilliant and just a little too sure of himself, and he could not help laughing softly.