She tilted her head to the side in a way that was probably supposed to be cute. “I’m home, honey.”
Donny looked at the guy. He stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth wearing a round O of surprise, his eyes wide unblinking circles of disbelief. A textbook example of a man shocked to his very core.
Charles Dupont, Hurricane Harbor’s Chief of Police, wavered on his thickset legs, looking for all the world as if he were seeing a blonde ghost.
_____
Tina Ames was waiting for Darby in the farmhouse’s driveway. She popped out of her SUV holding a brown paper bag and was at Darby’s car door before she could take off her seat belt.
“I’ve been waiting on you to get home!” Her face was flushed with excitement. “You will never guess what happened to Donny today.”
“Not another dead body.” Despite herself, Darby heard the note of alarm in her voice.
“Nah. More like someone returned from the grave.”
“Who?” Darby stopped and turned to look at her friend.
“Chief Dupont’s wife, the one who ran off to Vegas. Donny saw her walking up the hill toward the Inn and he offered to give her a ride. He had no idea she was Bitsy Carmichael.”
“Carmichael—I think I remember that name.” She opened the door and they entered the kitchen, removing their boots and heavy coats.
Tina nodded. “Whole bunch of girls, all of them wild, and Bitsy was the youngest and craziest. Charles Dupont fell for her and hard. They got married and she lasted a few years, then she up and took off. That must have been fourteen, fifteen years ago.”
“Did they have kids?” Darby put on the kettle for tea, but Tina jerked her head toward a bottle of wine that had mysteriously appeared on the counter. She opened a drawer and pulled out an opener.
“Chief Dupont had two kids when he married Bitsy, so I guess she was their stepmom. Their real mom—his first wife—died when the kids were in middle school. Don’t you remember? They’re probably about your age.”
“I don’t remember any Dupont kids.” She watched Tina pour the wine. “What’s made Bitsy come back here, after all these years?”
“What makes anyone come back to Hurricane Harbor?” Tina gave a sly look. “Real estate.” She picked up the two glasses. “Let’s sit in your parlor.”
Darby smiled. Her friend was obviously looking to share some gossip, and although it wasn’t Darby’s favorite pastime, she followed Tina into the living room obediently.
“So this Bitsy comes back after all this time because the Chief is going to list his house?” Darby stirred the glowing embers in the fireplace and added a few slender logs. She took a seat on the faded loveseat, wondering if she’d need to replace it—or at least recover it—for summer renters.
“How did you know the Chief was selling?” Tina’s question was sharp.
“Tina, relax. We’re on the same team, remember? The Chief told me this morning and I dropped off those papers to you. Geez!”
“Sorry.” Tina’s voice was contrite. “Anyway, yeah, I suppose that’s right. Donny said she referred to the house as “home” and said she brought these two enormous suitcases because she planned to stay.” Tina grinned. “I only wish I had seen the look on Charles Dupont’s face. Donny said he was absolutely flummoxed.”
“Now there’s a word you don’t hear every day.”
“It means confused, bewildered, surprised, and you gotta imagine the Chief was all of those things.” She tucked her legs under her, reminding Darby of a tall stork trying to get comfy. “Poor guy. First Lorraine Delvecchio and now this. He’s had enough for two days, maybe a whole week, that’s for sure. Anyway, here’s to us.” She raised her glass and grinned.
Darby followed suit and then took a sip of the wine, a smoky Merlot that was perfect with the cold weather. “Surely Bitsy Carmichael can’t think she has any claim to the house. After all, she and the Chief divorced years ago.”
Tina
Donny looked at the guy. He stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth wearing a round O of surprise, his eyes wide unblinking circles of disbelief. A textbook example of a man shocked to his very core.
Charles Dupont, Hurricane Harbor’s Chief of Police, wavered on his thickset legs, looking for all the world as if he were seeing a blonde ghost.
_____
Tina Ames was waiting for Darby in the farmhouse’s driveway. She popped out of her SUV holding a brown paper bag and was at Darby’s car door before she could take off her seat belt.
“I’ve been waiting on you to get home!” Her face was flushed with excitement. “You will never guess what happened to Donny today.”
“Not another dead body.” Despite herself, Darby heard the note of alarm in her voice.
“Nah. More like someone returned from the grave.”
“Who?” Darby stopped and turned to look at her friend.
“Chief Dupont’s wife, the one who ran off to Vegas. Donny saw her walking up the hill toward the Inn and he offered to give her a ride. He had no idea she was Bitsy Carmichael.”
“Carmichael—I think I remember that name.” She opened the door and they entered the kitchen, removing their boots and heavy coats.
Tina nodded. “Whole bunch of girls, all of them wild, and Bitsy was the youngest and craziest. Charles Dupont fell for her and hard. They got married and she lasted a few years, then she up and took off. That must have been fourteen, fifteen years ago.”
“Did they have kids?” Darby put on the kettle for tea, but Tina jerked her head toward a bottle of wine that had mysteriously appeared on the counter. She opened a drawer and pulled out an opener.
“Chief Dupont had two kids when he married Bitsy, so I guess she was their stepmom. Their real mom—his first wife—died when the kids were in middle school. Don’t you remember? They’re probably about your age.”
“I don’t remember any Dupont kids.” She watched Tina pour the wine. “What’s made Bitsy come back here, after all these years?”
“What makes anyone come back to Hurricane Harbor?” Tina gave a sly look. “Real estate.” She picked up the two glasses. “Let’s sit in your parlor.”
Darby smiled. Her friend was obviously looking to share some gossip, and although it wasn’t Darby’s favorite pastime, she followed Tina into the living room obediently.
“So this Bitsy comes back after all this time because the Chief is going to list his house?” Darby stirred the glowing embers in the fireplace and added a few slender logs. She took a seat on the faded loveseat, wondering if she’d need to replace it—or at least recover it—for summer renters.
“How did you know the Chief was selling?” Tina’s question was sharp.
“Tina, relax. We’re on the same team, remember? The Chief told me this morning and I dropped off those papers to you. Geez!”
“Sorry.” Tina’s voice was contrite. “Anyway, yeah, I suppose that’s right. Donny said she referred to the house as “home” and said she brought these two enormous suitcases because she planned to stay.” Tina grinned. “I only wish I had seen the look on Charles Dupont’s face. Donny said he was absolutely flummoxed.”
“Now there’s a word you don’t hear every day.”
“It means confused, bewildered, surprised, and you gotta imagine the Chief was all of those things.” She tucked her legs under her, reminding Darby of a tall stork trying to get comfy. “Poor guy. First Lorraine Delvecchio and now this. He’s had enough for two days, maybe a whole week, that’s for sure. Anyway, here’s to us.” She raised her glass and grinned.
Darby followed suit and then took a sip of the wine, a smoky Merlot that was perfect with the cold weather. “Surely Bitsy Carmichael can’t think she has any claim to the house. After all, she and the Chief divorced years ago.”
Tina
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