Not Quite Gone (A Lowcountry Mystery) by Lyla Payne

Author:Lyla Payne
Language: eng
Format: epub

I sleep so hard that I miss out on a couple of important occurrences in my safe haven of a bedroom. One, the sunrise, which heats the space almost unbearably with the curtains flung wide the way they were last night. And two, Beau seems to have arrived at some point. I blink, then do it again, clearing the gunk from the corners of my eyes while trying to determine whether my boyfriend is actually sitting in Anne’s chair, staring out at the river, or if he’s a dream.

I mean, he is a dream, but in this context, I think he’s physically here, too.

Panic grabs me at the sharp, stabbing thought that he could be a ghost, and I sit up, breathing hard. “Beau?”

He turns toward me. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

I’m so busy being relieved that he’s talking and not a ghost that it takes a moment to register that he’s not smiling, and his tone isn’t his typical one.

He sounds detached. A little edgy.

I hug my knees to my chest. “What are you doing here?”

“You never called me back or texted last night and I got worried. I thought I’d stop by on my way into the office and check on you.” He glances down at his expensive watch. “You’re going to be late, by the way.”

“Crap on a cracker!” I shout, rolling out of bed and grabbing for my phone. It’s dead, since it didn’t make it onto the charger last night. “What time is it? Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I haven’t been here long.”

The answer falls between us like a rock, smashing any good feeling that might have tried to come out to play. He’s not even looking at me, but sort of through me.

“What’s going on?” I ask, wanting to know more than I want to pretend everything’s fine. I think I might be done with that philosophy all together.

It’s only then that my gaze falls, following his down to his hands, and I see that he’s holding Nanette’s file. The moisture leeches from my mouth, leaving behind dust bunnies and cotton balls even after two or three swallows. Our eyes meet and his are careful, too careful. As though he’s a lawyer and I’m on the stand, and he’s about to pretend he’s not angry with me until the exact right moment.

“Where did you get this?”

I would rather answer the question Why do you have this? since I sort of promised Officer Dunleavy to keep his help under wraps. “I requested it from the police department.”

Not a lie, but he presses his lips together as though he suspects it’s not the whole truth. I hadn’t considered this particular downside of dating a lawyer. Beau looks like he can sniff out an untruth or half-truth easily, and experience promises he can hear what goes unsaid, as well.

“Why?”

No time like the present to come clean. It may have been a good idea to keep my investigation or whatever from Beau and his family at the beginning, but it’s too late now.

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