LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER TWO

      AS HUNTER STEPPED outside the airport, the wind brought the smell of the ocean to him, bathed him in its cold, salty moisture. He took a deep breath of the crisp air and smiled in relief. That he liked the sea air so much had never occurred to him. That he might even have missed it? Not until this minute. It made him think of the six years and all the summers he’d spent here. And Deelee.

      When his parents had yanked him away from his friends in Chicago—to be nearer to his ailing grandparents in Bailey’s Cove, they had explained—he had thought his life was over. From the moment he’d gotten there, he’d wanted to leave. Delainey Talbot had made being there bearable.

      When he’d started in a sixth-grade classroom full of strangers, Deelee had been there to be his friend and she’d stayed his friend all through high school and college.

      But after college they had ruined it all. He had especially. Since the day he’d driven away and left her behind, he’d managed to make his life better and worse.

      He swept his gaze up and down the sidewalk, looking for a familiar skulking form of a woman so unlike Delainey. Always, he was always looking for her because when he wasn’t, she showed up.

      His visual sweep caught a fashionably dressed brunette over near a taxi, and when she turned to face him, Hunter expected to need the nearest sheriff. The woman turned out to be a stranger.

      Callista White couldn’t possibly be here. He had not known when and on what airline he would be traveling until a few hours before he left.

      He brushed the paranoia away and searched for Shamus.

      Bailey’s Cove might seem like a giant step backward. The summer after college he had returned to close down his grandmother’s estate. Since then he hadn’t been back, hadn’t needed to come back until today, but the incentives on both ends made it seem a logical choice.

      “I think it would be best if you found a reason to go away for a while,” the partner in the law firm had said, but had assured Hunter he wasn’t fired. He just needed to get out from under the thumb of the media until things got resolved or faded away.

      While Hunter wasn’t an official suspect in the disappearance of Callista White, he had been a person of interest for a while until his well-respected firm had stood behind him, vouched for him.

      He didn’t wish the woman ill. He did wish she would return home or let someone know where she was so he could have his life back.

      “Hunter, my boy,” a familiar voice called to him from down the curb. Hunter turned to see Shamus dressed in a well-fitting dark suit, with a shock of gray hair and a pleasant smiling face. They had met only once in person, but the package was memorable and included winged eyebrows and standout ears.

      Morrison and Morrison had been founded by Hunter’s great-great-grandfather and great-great-uncle. The name of the firm had stood even after the practice changed hands. When Shamus had called and asked him if he was interested in helping the firm out, he’d made an offer. It seemed there would be a Morrison at the helm again.

      “Shamus,” he called back as he waved and headed for the car, an old black Ford. Hunter smiled. When he had left Maine, the car had been brand-new, and it shined like a new car today.

      * * *

      ONCE AGAIN AT Morrison and Morrison, Delainey had sat for the past few hours trying to work on the papers on her desk. Returning had been hard. She’d had to look into the faces of each one of them and wonder if she would soon have to say goodbye forever.

      The intercom on her desk buzzed. “Yes, Patty?”

      “They’re here.” Delainey was sure Patty’s whisper could be heard throughout the entire first floor. “You’d better get down here.”

      Delainey got up from her desk and suddenly felt underdressed. If this person who was arriving had something to say about her future at the law firm, she wasn’t going to make her most professional impression in jeans and— Oh, come on. There were Christmas ducks on her sweater. She had let Brianna choose and her young daughter couldn’t quite give up the idea of Christmas.

      Delainey always wondered if Brianna kept the hope alive that her father would suddenly show up or send a card or even presents. She sighed and slid the sweater off. The thin blouse she wore underneath let an instant chill set in and her nipples puckered, showing in hard points through her bra and blouse.

      Not good. She slid the sweater back on and fluffed her hair a little. Maybe the new partner wouldn’t notice ducks with wreaths around their necks.

      After she couldn’t procrastinate any longer, she decided she might as well go see what the future would hold. She had already survived quite a bit, and this new partner wasn’t going to take her down. She might have to practice law in Portland or Bangor or Lewiston or, heaven forbid, outside the state of Maine, but she wouldn’t give up on a good life for her daughter.

      At the bottom of the steps, she stopped and took a few deep breaths. Then she pushed open the rear door and stepped just inside the spacious lobby. There were about fifty people there—the staff, the town council, some regular clients with spouses—and everyone seemed to be talking at once.

      “Delainey.” Patty rushed up and handed her a glass of champagne. “About time you got here.”

      Champagne. Great. To celebrate her demise, she thought...but she knew this was not about her. Shamus needed to do this now for some reason and she was going to have to do the “poor me” thing another time.

      Across the room, near the front lobby window, a man stood with his back to her speaking with redheaded Shirley and fresh-faced Eddie, a paid intern at the office. The man was tall and wore his dark blond hair in a short, neat style. His suit, expensively cut, wrapped his well-built frame as if to say, “This is the man.” Shamus had hired a man, a man used to making money.

      Poor thing was in for a big shock.

      Some hope lay in that thought. She took a sip of champagne and let the bubbles fill her mouth with flavor. Whoever he was, she hoped he’d be interested in Morrison and Morrison for a couple years and then when he figured out his income would no longer support his expensive suits, cars, women, et cetera...

      “Hunter,”

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