Heroes Are My Weakness(73)

“I just came from my father’s place. Les Childers. You remember him? He owns the Lucky Charm. He’s got a bad cut on his hand. It’s been bleeding like crazy, and it’s deep. It’s going to need stitches.”

Theo rested his elbow on the window frame. “I’ll look at it, Jessie, but EMTs aren’t licensed for that. Until I finish my paramedic’s training, all I can do is bandage him up. He’ll have to go to the mainland.”

Theo was training as a paramedic? One more thing he hadn’t mentioned.

Jessie leaned back on her heels, ready to do battle. “This is Peregrine, Theo. You think anybody here gives a rat’s ass about what kind of license you have? You know how it works.”

So did Annie. Islanders took care of their own, and in their eyes, Theo’s medical training was something they expected him to use.

Jessie wasn’t done. “I’d also appreciate your stopping in to see my sister. She has to give her dog injections for diabetes, but she’s afraid to use the needle, and she needs help getting started. I wish we’d known you had medical training last month when Jack Brownie had his heart attack.”

Whether he wanted to or not, Theo had been sucked into island life. “I’ll look in on both of them,” he said reluctantly.

“Follow my truck.” Jessie gave Annie a brusque nod and headed toward the rusty skeleton of a once-red pickup.

Annie opened the Range Rover’s door. “Congratulations, Theo. It looks like you’re the new island doctor. And the vet.”

He pulled off his sunglasses with one hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose with the other. “I’m in way over my head.”

“Looks like it,” she said. “You might want to brush up on deworming dogs. And birthing cows.”

“There aren’t any cows on Peregrine.”

“Not now there aren’t.” She stepped out of the car. “But wait till everybody hears there’s a new vet.”





Chapter Sixteen


SOMETHING WAS VERY WRONG. THE cottage’s front door hung open, and Hannibal crouched on the stoop not far from the old wooden lobster traps left partially exposed by the melting snow. Annie shot out of the Suburban and stomped across the yard to the open door. She was too angry to be cautious. She wanted someone to be inside so she could tear them apart.

Paintings hung crookedly on the walls and books were strewn on the floor. Most chilling, the intruder had scrawled a message across the wall in bright red paint.


I’m coming for u

“Like hell you are!” Annie stormed through the cottage. The kitchen and studio looked the same as when she’d last been here. Her puppets were unharmed, Theo’s things untouched, but the drawers had been pulled out of her bedroom dresser, their contents flung on the floor.

The violation of her privacy infuriated her, the outrage of knowing someone felt free to break in whenever they wanted, to go through her things, to paint a cheesy message on her wall. It was too much. Either someone in the Harp family wanted to scare her away, or one of the islanders knew about Mariah’s legacy and wanted Annie out of here so they could tear the place apart until they found what they wanted.

Although Elliott had bad taste in wives, she’d never regarded him as unethical. But Cynthia Harp was more problematic. She had money, motive, and local connections. Just because she was living in the South of France didn’t mean she couldn’t be orchestrating all this. But would she really go to so much trouble for a tiny cottage when she already had Harp House at her disposal? As for Mariah’s legacy . . . With Annie out of the cottage, the intruder could spend as much time as he or she wanted searching for it with no worries of Annie walking in on them.

But Annie had had all the time in the world, and she still hadn’t found what she was looking for. Still, she hadn’t pried up floorboards or poked holes in walls, and maybe that was what the intruder wanted time to do. Whoever was behind this couldn’t have found out about the legacy until after Annie had arrived, or they’d have already searched for it. As Hannibal hid under her bed, she skirted the sheets that had been torn from her mattress and marched back into the living room.


I’m coming for u

The red paint was still tacky. Someone wanted to frighten her, and if she wasn’t so furious, it might have worked.

There was another possibility, one she was reluctant to consider but could no longer avoid, not as long as she kept hearing the sound of that bullet whizzing past her head. What if this wasn’t about the legacy at all? What if someone simply hated her?


SHE FOUND A CAN OF leftover paint in the storage closet and painted over the hateful message, then headed for Harp House in the Suburban. She almost missed walking. Three weeks ago, the climb to the house had been like ascending Mount Everest, but her coughing had finally disappeared, and the exertion had started to feel good.

As Annie got out, Livia dashed outside in her socks and ran toward her, a big smile on her face. “Livia! You don’t have your shoes on!” Jaycie called after her. “Come back here, you dickens.”

Annie brushed Livia’s cheek with her fingertips and followed her inside. Jaycie moved awkwardly toward the sink. “Lisa called. She saw you and Theo driving through town this morning.”

Annie dodged Jaycie’s implied question. “A woman stopped him and asked him to check on her father. Jessie somebody. Apparently the news has spread that Theo’s an EMT.”