The Empty Chair ~ Murder in the Caribbean Page 31

  “Why didn’t you at least try?” Olivia pleaded, her anger welling up within her.

  “Olivia, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” His voice quivered. “We had such plans together.”

  She was listening.

  “We talked about getting married in the fall. She wanted us to meet first. She wouldn’t make any specific plans until she was able to introduce you to me. Your approval meant the world to her.”

  Stunned by the words spilling naturally out of his mouth, Olivia blinked her eyes quite deliberately as she tried to picture the two of them together. She hadn’t seen any of it coming.

  “I see.” She spoke slowly, trying to convince herself as she uttered the words.

  “Now that will never happen. So much will never happen.” His face was etched with a sorrowful expression. “Olivia, I am grateful to have finally met you. I am truly sorry for the events that took your mother from you. If I could go back in time and change them, I certainly would.” He stood up. “I hope someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me, but I won’t blame you if you don’t. I know I never will. Hold your mother’s love close to your heart. She loved you dearly.”

  With that, he turned away from her and slipped noiselessly off the deck, disappearing around the side of the restaurant.

  Olivia sat in silence with a lump in her throat, contemplating his comments. Part of her felt sorry for him, but if he had intended to make her feel better, he had failed miserably. And the idea her mother had planned to marry again surprised her. She admonished herself for it. Why shouldn’t she? Her mother deserved to be happy. Olivia just didn’t like finding out about it from a stranger. Although, he wasn’t a stranger to her mother.

  Colton returned with their sandwiches accompanied by a glass of Pinot Gris for her and an IPA for himself.

  Olivia looked into his eyes, hesitating for a moment, and then asked the question dangling on the edge of her lips. “Did you see the man I was talking to while you were at the bar?”

  He looked at her with a puzzled expression and her face fell.

  “A man? No, I didn’t see you talking with anyone.”

  In spite of the jovial din of the busy outdoor eatery, they ate in silence with little chatting between them. Colton attempted to stir up a conversation, but she didn’t engage. He seemed to understand she had plenty on her mind and didn’t push it.

  On their way off the deck, after finishing their lunch, Olivia noticed a local newspaper lying on one of the unoccupied tables, folded in half with the front page on top. A photo caught her eye. She stopped abruptly in her tracks and picked it up.

  There was a file photo of the British man she had just been talking with. Eagerly she read the headline:

  Virgin Islands Times Owner Found Dead. Police Investigating.

  Olivia’s eyes grew wide and darted through the body of the article, searching for details.

  “No evidence of forced entry . . . robbery unlikely . . . no cause of death released . . . an associate, who asked to remain anonymous, would not deny the possibility of suicide.”

  The world stood still momentarily and no air entered her lungs. Words would not form on her lips.

  The ripple effect of evil doings . . .

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Consumed by a wistful air of sadness, they pulled up to the passenger drop-off area in front of the airport. Colton got out and pulled her suitcase out of the back as she walked around from the other side of the car to join him on the sidewalk.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take the little guy? To keep you company?”

  “No, I appreciate you rescuing him for me, but I can’t even think about trying to provide any stability for him when I don’t know what lies ahead for me. I know you’ll take good care of him until I can get back here.” She glanced into the back seat and beamed. “Besides, it looks like Jake has already adopted him.”

  Colton chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll be sure to look out for him.” He reached over and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. “You take care of yourself.” His words were almost pleading.

  Olivia got lost in his arms as they hugged each other tightly. She swallowed to clear her throat as she tried to find the right way to describe what she was feeling.

  “So glad we met. . . . I’m going to miss you. I’ll get back as soon as I can.” She choked on her words, having no idea when she could return. Whenever it was, it wouldn’t be soon enough.

  “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through. But I’m here for you . . . always will be.” His voice was low as he spoke into her ear.

  “Thanks for everything. See you . . . see you when I can get back here.”

  They pulled apart to look directly at each other.

  “I’ll have a chilled bottle of white waiting for you.” Colton had a twinkle in his eyes.

  Olivia grinned, tickled at the thought.

  Another kiss and then she pulled away, lowering her head as she plodded along reluctantly to the ticket counter. After checking in and leaving her bag, she blew one final kiss to Colton and passed through the sliding glass doors to get into the line for Customs.

  Colton turned around and climbed back into his car. As he pulled slowly away from the curb to merge into the airport traffic, sunlight hit him in the eyes. He grabbed the visor and slapped it down. The imprint of aviators was evident on the underside of the visor.

  It was a quiet ride back to Riptide.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Penny Goetjen is the author of murder mysteries where the milieu play as prominent a role as the engaging characters. Her love of travel inspires her writing as evidenced by her current titles. Although Connecticut has been her home longer than anywhere else, she also has a deep-rooted fondness for the Caribbean; Charleston, South Carolina; and the tumultuous coast of Maine (especially in the warmer months). A self-proclaimed eccentric, she loves writing by candlelight, particularly on dark, gray days or in the late hours of the night. Fascinated with the paranormal, she often weaves a subtle, unexpected twist into her stories. When her husband is asked how he feels about his wife writing murder mysteries, he answers with a wink, “I sleep with one eye open.”