Snowfall on Haven Point(10)

“So will you let Andie come back?”

He sighed. Apparently he was no more immune to emotional blackmail than his lovely neighbor. “Fine. She can come back.”

“Thanks. Seriously. That’s a huge relief to me. Cade says he’ll stop in when he can, but you know how crazy things are this time of year.”

The sheriff’s department was the same. He had a million things to do before the end of the year—and that wasn’t counting the investigation into the missing evidence.

Damn Bill Newbold anyway. How was Marsh supposed to endure three weeks of enforced medical leave?

As an elected position, the sheriff of Lake Haven County technically reported to the voting public. The county commission couldn’t legally stop him from reporting to work—but the county commission oversaw all county departments and had budgetary control over his department. Newbold was pissed enough right now that Marsh wouldn’t put it past the man to do all he could to block the badly needed deputy pay increase Marsh had been wrangling for since his election.

For the sake of his department, he could roll over for a few weeks, do as much work as possible from home.

“I’ve got to run,” Wynona said. “Pete apparently needs to go out. Are you sure you’re all right alone tonight?”

“Perfectly.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that. Be nice to Andie, okay? You know things haven’t been easy for her.”

Yeah, he knew. His gut twisted. Detective Robert Warren had sat in the county jail for months after his plea deal and had been transferred to the state penitentiary only a few weeks earlier. Marsh had purposely kept his interactions with the man to a minimum and had made sure Warren had no cause to claim his treatment at the Lake Haven County Jail was anything less than proper and humane, especially considering the sheriff’s own personal connection to one of his victims. Wynona.

It was one thing to know in the abstract what Warren had done to Andrea Montgomery. Facts on a report, testimony during his sentencing hearing. It was something else entirely when he thought about that soft, sweet-smelling woman and her cute kids having to live in fear for the better part of a year because she had once trusted the wrong man.





CHAPTER THREE

“THESE ARE ABSOLUTELY PERFECT,” Andie exclaimed the next day as she looked at the cheery watercolors laid out on her neighbor’s kitchen table, a garden of flowers blooming with soft, lovely color to take the edge off the wintry day.

She shook her head in amazement. “We had one short conversation about you designing something for me, that’s all, yet you came back with exactly the right concept for my clients.”

“Oh, I’m so happy you think something will work!” Louise Jacobs glowed with pleasure. “I’ve never done anything like this before. Ever. I’ve always just painted for my own enjoyment, really. It was such a challenge—but a wonderful one.”

“I knew you could do it. I have loved the watercolors you sell at Point Made Flowers and Gifts and I had a suspicion my clients in Boise would, too. It’s the perfect mood and tone for their natural remedy spa services, exactly what I wanted, and I am certain they’re going to love it.”

“I hope so.”

“Trust me. I’ve been trying for weeks to capture the right tone and mood for their website redesign and ad campaign, but nothing seemed to feel right. I couldn’t get to the heart of it, but you’ve managed it. You have a gift, my friend.”

Louise beamed. “I’m so happy you like them.”

Andie saw the possibility of a very successful partnership moving forward. “If you’re all right with it, I’ll buy each one for the price we talked about.”

“Oh, you don’t have to pay me anything. I was happy to do it. I should pay you, actually. I needed the distraction and it was so nice to be back in my studio. I haven’t been able to pick up my brushes in months. Not since...”

Her voice trailed off, eyes bleak with grief. Andie touched her hand. “I’m so sorry, my dear. How are you doing?”

Louise looked down at the bouquet of watercolors for a moment, then offered a strained smile. “I’ll be glad when the holidays are over. Everyone told me how hard all the firsts would be. It’s so true.”

“Yes. It is.”

Jason had died in November, the week before Thanksgiving. Andie had no clear idea how she’d made it through that first December. She had been in a fog of shock and disbelief that her perfect world had imploded so wildly.

Last December had been tough in its own way, for reasons she didn’t want to think about.

Louise and Herm’s only daughter had died just five months earlier. No doubt the wound still felt jagged and raw.