What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(73)
“Cleanliness is an issue, too, Uncle,” Max said.
“Ha! Yes! Go find something comfortable to wear and—” he looked searchingly at Kellen “—can you be ready in two hours?”
“I’m hungry. I can be ready faster than that.” She had never meant anything so much in her life.
“Excellent. Sheriff Kwinault is on her way with Dr. Frownfelter. We’ll have appetizers waiting for you. Annie and I cannot wait to hear this whole tantalizing story.”
42
Max and Kellen hurried through their showers and dressed in their new casual resort wear that made them look, so Max said, like tennis-wear ads from the 1980s. He struck a pose with an invisible racket.
Kellen shoved at him, draped her sweater around her neck and told him to hurry and shave before the appetizers were all gone.
He chased her toward the window and scraped his stubbled chin across her cheek and went in to shave.
Seconds later, he was back, and she started to chide him for not shaving...then he leaned down and slid his face across hers. “Better?”
“Smooth as a baby’s bottom,” she assured him.
So he had shaved. But he couldn’t have done it in the amount of time she thought he’d been gone.
Where had she been? Caught by the gray? Unconscious on her feet?
She mustn’t let Max know. He didn’t need to worry more than he was. Not about something he could do nothing about.
He offered his arm. “Still hungry?”
“Of course!” She wasn’t. Not now.
“Are you sure? You look a little pale.”
“Show me the crab cakes.” She smiled at him and took his arm.
He led the way, but she knew he was back to feeling solicitous.
They arrived at Leo and Annie’s suite, a spacious, homey collection of rooms on the third floor not far from Annie’s office. Annie’s thin face lit up, and she held up her arms. “Hug me, darlings!”
ANNIE DI LUCA:
FEMALE, WHITE, ELDERLY, HEIGHT UNDETERMINED. UNDERWEIGHT. CURLY WHITE HAIR, BROWN EYES. WHEELCHAIR USER. RHEUMATOID ARTHRITIS. SEASONED RESORT MANAGER. KIND, INTELLIGENT, FRAIL, DEDICATED TO LEO AND YEARNING SANDS.
Kellen knelt beside Annie and on impulse put her head on Annie’s shoulder.
Annie pressed her hand to Kellen’s cheek and kissed the top of her head. “Is all well?”
There were a lot of different ways Kellen could respond. I’ve got a child and she’s like me. I’ve got a suitor and he loves me. Someone’s trying to kill me and I don’t know why. She chose the easiest. “Max and I are getting married.”
Annie sighed deeply. “May you face all the years of joy and sorrow together.”
Kellen wasn’t sure if Annie had blessed their union or cursed it.
Annie kissed her head again, and her voice lightened. “I’m sorry, dear. That sounded less than enthusiastic. I’m thrilled. Leo is thrilled. But instead of thinking of my joy for you and Max, I was thinking about Leo and me.”
“Problems?” God forbid they would have marital problems; they both laughed and declared they’d been married since the earth’s crust cooled and always seemed dedicated to each other.
“You know how we feel about this place, and since I was sick last winter, I haven’t recovered as well as we hoped and I can’t do what I need to do.”
Oh. Whew. Not marital problems exactly. Life problems, not less dire but more comforting for a prospective bride to hear. “You’re thinking about retirement?”
“Talking about it, which is even worse. I knew this day would come. Leo is more excited than I am, of course. He wants to travel. And we will!” Annie smiled, but with an effort. She turned to the men who were conversing quietly beside the bar. “Leo, we need champagne. We must toast Max and Kellen’s upcoming nuptials!”
Leo clapped Max on the shoulder, opened the floor-to-ceiling wine cooler and pulled out a bottle of Di Luca’s best sparkling wine.
“You told her!” Max looked equal parts dismayed and pleased.
Kellen got to her feet. “Should I not have?”
Annie’s eyes widened in horror. “Haven’t you two told Verona yet?”
Max shook his head.
“Then we’ll have this champagne and pretend we don’t know why we’re celebrating.” Leo popped the cork and poured the champagne flutes full. He handed them out and lifted his in a toast. “May your love light the way for all the worlds and all the times.”
They clinked glasses.
Kellen blinked away unexpected tears.
The house phone rang, and Leo picked it up, listened and hung up. “Kateri is here with Dr. Frownfelter.”
Kellen’s tears dried and she drank her champagne in a rush. She took a breath, metaphorically girded her loins and waited, dreading the next few hours of conversations...and revelations.
Sheriff Kwinault came through the door first.
SHERIFF KATERI KWINAULT:
FEMALE, 30? YO, 5'9" 140 LBS, FIT, BEAUTIFUL, HALF NATIVE AMERICAN. FORMER COAST GUARD COMMANDER, SWEPT OUT TO SEA WHILE BATTLING A TSUNAMI, BARELY SURVIVED. CARRIES A WALKING STICK. A LEGEND AMONG HER TRIBE. RESPECTED BY LAW OFFICERS. FRIEND OF MAX.
Not many women made Kellen feel like an underachiever, but Kateri Kwinault could, if she tried. She never tried, and Kellen had developed a tentative friendship with her.