Page 5

Savannah parked in the lot across from University Grounds and dodged a rusty blue pickup on her way across the street. After she’d shot a panicked text to her best friend, Nora Craft had promised to meet her here. Once upon a time the building that housed the coffee shop had been Hotel Tupelo. An investor had bought the grand old place with its high ceilings and had turned it into retail and office space, but it maintained its stately exterior.

She slowed to calm her racing heart and glanced around the quaint town of Nova Cambridge. It had always reminded her of a smaller, shabbier version of Oxford, Mississippi. The weedy cobbled streets held cozy 1920s bungalows interspersed with grander, newer homes. The little university town was strategically located near all the things she loved while maintaining its individuality. Just offshore, Mobile Bay and Bon Secour Bay kissed and merged, and close by was the road leading to the Sanctuary Animal Refuge over a little bridge with Mobile Bay on one side and Weeks Bay on the other. It was fifteen minutes from Pelican Harbor and about the same to Foley if she wanted bigger stores and more people.

A familiar voice called out her name, and Savannah turned to see her sister hurrying toward her on the sidewalk. The Dior bag on her arm was a pop of bright green against her tan slacks and sweater. Savannah tried to force a smile, but her eyes filled with tears.

Jess touched her forearm. “Savannah, I’m so sorry I didn’t have more time to talk when the tenure news came down. You want to discuss your options a little more? I’ll help you find another job. Simon is at a tutoring session with Will Dixon, and I’m free for however long you need me.”

Savannah knew Jess valued her time above all else, and her willingness to offer comfort spoke volumes. “I think Nora is already inside, and I’d love to have you join us.”

They went up the steps to the wraparound porch. The outdoor tables and chairs were taken by college students in TGU sweatshirts. She opened the door for her sister, and they stepped into the warm space scented with espresso, cinnamon, and cider. Nora waved to them from a table by the window. She was a forensic tech with the Pelican Harbor PD, and the two of them had bonded in a grief group. Nora was in her thirties with thick brown hair cut in a bob. She had been Savannah’s spiritual mentor as well as a sounding board for the trials of the past two years.

Savannah managed to hold her composure on the way to join her. She spotted several other professors inside who avoided eye contact. News like hers traveled at warp speed through a university, and no one ever knew what to say when someone was on their way out. She’d been in their shoes before, but she’d never expected to face this fate.

She settled next to Nora and slipped out of her jacket. They ordered coffee and sandwiches before Nora poked her glasses back into place over her brown eyes and leaned over to squeeze her hand. “What’s the SOS about?”

“I didn’t get tenure. They gave the job to Tony Guzman.”

When her friend’s eyes widened, Savannah tried to smile and failed. “I would have given it to him too. He’s a terrific teacher and scholar.”

Jess tapped her red nails against the tabletop. “He’s not even in your league. You’ve always told me God doesn’t make mistakes, but I think he blew it on this one. TGU doesn’t deserve you.”

“When do you need to leave?”

Nora’s voice shook. “What about applying at one of the other nearby universities? That way you could still stay in the area.”

“I’ll need to be out in the summer so they can move in someone else.”

The thought of her sweet cottage belonging to another professor tightened Savannah’s throat. “I need to consider what’s best for Hez too.”

“I assume you told him?”

Nora asked. “You guys will get through this. Maybe a fresh start will be good for both of you.”

Savannah tore her napkin into strips as she nodded. “He’s willing to start over wherever I can find work.”

“I agree with Nora,”

Jess said. “Get out of here and make a fresh start. Hez has contacts in Birmingham. Or maybe you want to start over in Florida or somewhere else near the water.”

Savannah pushed the paper strips aside. If Jess wasn’t here, she would have already told Nora about the bottle she found in Hez’s trash. It was something she needed to air, but her sister was bound to jump to the wrong conclusion. Even Hez’s help through the jail ordeal hadn’t endeared him to Jess. But Savannah couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Her fingers stilled, and she stared at Jess. “That’s what he said too. Right before I found an empty bottle of Mondavi cabernet sauvignon in his trash.”

Shock settled over their faces before they looked away. It was one thing to be upset with Hez herself and another thing to hear anyone else condemn him.

The server brought their coffees and sandwiches. When he left, Nora eyed Savannah over the top of her coffee mug. “I’m sure you didn’t let that slide. What did he say when you confronted him?”

“He denied it was his and said someone must have planted it there.”

Jess put her hand to her mouth. “You can’t go back into a toxic relationship like that, Savannah. How can you even work through things if he denies the truth? I know how you value honesty.”

“He’s never lied to me before.”

“You sound like you believe him,”

Jess said.

“Maybe I do.”

Jess hesitated for a heartbeat. “Is it possible he’s deluding himself? Or could he have forgotten it? He took a hard hit to the head a few months ago. Did he complain of a headache or anything like that?”

Savannah took a sip of her coffee. “He seemed fine. When his drinking was at its worst, he had some memory issues. It’s possible that’s what happened. I could have him ask the doctor about the effects of the concussion.”

Nora took a toothpick out of her BLT club. “Memory loss from one bottle of wine? That seems doubtful to me considering his history.”

Jess shook her head. “Not from one bottle of wine—from a serious blow to the head. I’ve heard of people having memory problems and even personality changes years after a head injury. What if he has memory issues and maybe other problems, which alcohol makes worse? He might not even realize it.”

Had Hez seemed off recently? Savannah searched her memory. Nothing came to mind, but they’d both been so busy she couldn’t be sure. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for him to check with his neurologist.”

“Have you considered premarital counseling?”

Nora asked. “It would be a way to get into the deeper issues. You have a lot to work out—both of you. The kind of trauma you’ve been through isn’t something you ever get over, but you can learn to handle it better.”

“I haven’t said anything to him about it, but I will.”

It had been the right decision to tell them what had happened. She felt stronger and more ready to deal with it than an hour ago. In the past, she’d run away from their problems, but she couldn’t make that mistake again. Hez was in a better place too, and she had to believe they could make their way through this new challenge.

* * *

“So who do you think put the bottle in your trash?”

Hez’s cousin, Blake Lawson, asked Hez as the two of them jogged along the asphalt trail bordering Bon Secour Bay.

“Good question.”

Light rain dampened the shoulders of Hez’s red-and-white TGU sweatshirt. The rain was the tail end of a blustery overnight storm that had scattered driftwood, seaweed, and dead fish over the beach. The rank stench was nauseating. Hez’s snaggletoothed rescue mutt, Cody, loped along beside him, occasionally pulling at his leash to get closer to a particularly smelly piece of debris left behind by the waves. “My best guess is someone from the Pelican Harbor Police Department. My landlord is the police chief, and she’s the only other one with a key to the condo.”

Blake turned his head, surprise in his blue eyes. “You think Jane Dixon planted the bottle?”

“Not Jane . . . but someone in her department.”

Hez had trouble talking while keeping up the eight-minute-mile pace set by his cousin, but he wasn’t going to ask to slow down. “Someone who could walk into her office when she’s out and no one would get suspicious. We already know there’s a mole in the department.”

“Have you told anyone around here that you used to drink?”

Hez shrugged. “It’s not exactly a secret. And I’ve started going to an AA group, so anyone who shows up there would know. But I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that the Mondavi cab used to be my favorite wine.”

“So how did someone discover that? Or was it a coincidence?”

“Probably not a coincidence. I’m guessing there’s a mention of Mondavi cab somewhere in the police file on Ella’s death. We always used to have a bottle or two in the kitchen.”

A new connection clicked in Hez’s head. “That also explains the candy. We found Justin’s peanut butter cups with Simon after he was kidnapped last year. That was the candy Ella was trying to get to when she drowned. That would have been in the police file too.”

“Have you talked to Jane?”

“I called her yesterday, but I’ll stop by today to mention the candy connection.”

Wispy cowlicks waving in the breeze, Cody lunged toward a group of seagulls gathered around a trash can blown over by the storm. The birds squawked and flapped away—and Cody instantly grabbed whatever they’d been eating.

“Leave it!”

Hez yanked at the leash as Cody frantically gobbled garbage. “Leaveitleaveitleaveitleaveit!”

Cody ate even faster, deftly managing to avoid dropping any morsels as Hez dragged him away from his feast. Cody managed to swallow past the constriction of his collar, then looked up at Hez with a triumphant grin.

Hez sighed. “Know a good vet?”

Blake chuckled. “You know I do.”

He and his mother ran an animal sanctuary near Gulf Shores, and they had one of the best veterinarians living at the park. She also happened to be the love of Blake’s life who’d recently returned to town.

Hez shook his head. “You’d better not throw up on the police chief’s handmade rugs.”

Cody gave him another grin and went back to scanning the beach for targets of opportunity.

They ran in silence for a few minutes. Gray waves crashed on the shore, and gulls cried overhead as they rode the gusty sea breeze. Hez kept Cody on a very short leash. Hez felt bad for dumping his worries on his cousin when Blake was dealing with his own problems at the animal park.

“I’m not sure I get it,”

Blake said. “Why would someone do this? I mean, if Beckett’s cronies are still after you and they got into your kitchen, wouldn’t they poison your food or something? Or at least leave a threatening note? What’s the point of breaking into your apartment just to leave an empty wine bottle in your trash?”

Those same questions had nagged at Hez ever since Savannah walked out with the bottle. “I don’t know—but I’m going to find out.”