he stood to go.
Chapter 17
The breeze blew in through the open windows in Marilyn’s kitchen, carrying with it the tangy and tantalizing scent of the ocean. It was a beautiful night, so she decided to go for a walk on the beach. She had just poured herself a lovely glass of Merlot and didn’t want to waste it, so she slipped her shoes on, tossed her beach bag over her shoulder and took it with her.
“I told you I make the best pies,” she heard Tim Eckels’ bland voice at the bottom of her porch stairs when she stepped outside.
“Your pie nearly put me in the hospital from dehydration,” she snapped, tired of her neighbor popping up randomly on her doorstep.
She couldn’t see very well in the dusky twilight, but could’ve sworn that she actually heard him chuckle.
“I don’t know what you mean,” his mirth was eerily fleeting.
“You know exactly what I mean, Tim Eckels. That was a nasty thing you did. You made Tiara sick too,” she accused, heading down the stairs and breezing past the awkward, sweaty man.
“I want my pie plate back,” he said softly.
“You’ll get it tomorrow,” Marilyn said firmly, determined not to let her neighbor ruin the mellow beauty of the evening for her.
“You’re always mean,” he said under his breath as she continued down the flagstone path that led to the street. She pretended that she hadn’t heard him, and took a sip of her wine, headed for the beach.
When she got to the long wooden walkway that led to the beach, Marilyn slipped off her shoes, banged them together to dislodge any debris, and tucked them away in her bag. The soft, floral skirt that she wore came to just above her knees, and she considered the possibility of wading in the surf, but decided that she was enjoying digging her toes into the still-warm sand at the moment, and strolled along the shore, occasionally sipping her wine.
“You know public intoxication can get you a pretty hefty fine,” a warm male voice said. She recognized that voice, and when she realized that the handsome Bernard Cortland was at her elbow, she wasn’t quite certain whether her instant glow was from the Merlot or something else.
“Is your day not complete if you’re not arresting a member of my family?” she drawled, intentionally taking her time in savoring another sip of wine.
“I live to protect and serve, ma’am,” he quipped, falling in step with her. “Mind if I join you?”
“As long as you promise not to take me in,” Marilyn teased.
“No promises, but I’ll try to be lenient,” he shot back.
“It’s such a beautiful night, I just couldn’t stand to be inside. How could I not come out to experience this?” she gestured to the water, the moon, the beach.
“My sentiments exactly,” Bernard agreed. “Some people wake up to a concrete jungle every morning, and we have this. It’d be a travesty to not make the most of it.”
“I’ve been in love with Key West ever since I moved down here after my divorce,” Marilyn admitted with a nostalgic smile. “I knew that I’d have to struggle to make ends meet no matter where I lived, so I figured why not live in paradise?”
“Smart move,” the detective nodded. “I came down here after my wife died, several years ago. I guess you could say I was running from memories. As it turned out, the memories followed me down here, but the sun, sand and sea were a balm for my weary soul.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” she replied, understanding. “I’m sorry…about your wife,” she said softly.
“It was rough. Still is sometimes, but I’m definitely a better person for having known her, even if it was only for a while.”
“That’s a wonderfully sweet thing to say,” Marilyn smiled gently.
They continued along in silence for a while, enjoying the tang of the salt air and the cool evening breeze as it swayed the giant green palm fronds above them.
“May I?” Bernard asked, reaching for her half-empty glass of