Twilight at Blueberry Barrens Read Free Page B

love color and texture. You’ve got an artist’s heart for creativity, and you never get to use it. You’re great with people, but you rarely see more than Claire and me except on Sunday. You’re stuck in a loop here. Maybe you’re the one who should be looking for a new job somewhere else.” Shelley’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across her face. “I know! Come with me to Rock Harbor. The place I rented has three bedrooms. You can live in one and look for a job. It would be a fresh start.”
    Kate shook her head. “Claire is here. I’ve just found her again and I can’t leave her.” But Shelley’s words resonated more than she wanted them to. Was she really stuck in this place, unable to move forward with her life?
    * * *
    Drake Newham rolled over in his big bed and looked at the clock. Two in the morning. In the distance he could hear the hum of cars and trucks on I-93. Traffic in Boston was a constant, even in the middle of the night. The moonlight filtered through the curtains and illuminated the faces of his two nieces who’d crawled into bed with him an hour ago. It was nearly an every-night occurrence since his half brother and sister-in-law had died a month ago, and his chest felt heavy from trying to conceal his grief.
    He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his older brother was dead. Heath had so much to live for—a thriving law practice and a beautiful family that was the envy of everyone, including Drake.
    He tucked the covers around his nieces, then swung his legs out of bed. He’d taken to sleeping in sweats since he was up with the girls so much. They’d get through this somehow, though right now it looked as hard as climbing Mount Everest.
    Over the past couple of weeks he’d reached for the phone to call his brother until the stab in his gut reminded him he’d never hear Heath’s voice again. How was it even possible to bear this much pain? Drake couldn’t imagine how the girls felt. They cried a lot and clung to him even as he’d clung to them as all he had left of his brother.
    He peered out the window. For the past week he’d had the uncanny sensation of being watched, and yesterday he’d taken a quick turn down an alley to escape a black pickup he’d been certain was tailing him. Unsure of what had awakened him, he slid his feet into slippers and padded down the steps to the kitchen. A snack of peanut butter and crackers sounded enticing. Maybe he’d pull up his computer and see if he could find out anything new about Heath’s death.
    The sheriff in Maine was certain Heath had killed Melissa, then himself. Drake didn’t buy it. Such behavior was so unlike Heath, who was outgoing, upbeat, and the eternal optimist. Nothing Melissa could do would ever drive him to do something like that. He loved his kids way too much to leave them orphaned. And they’d been so happy. Melissa was the type of wife Drake would have picked for himself—faithful, loving, a good mother.
    Then what had happened? An old client out for revenge? Someone who’d gone to prison because of Heath? If that were the case, the list of suspects would be long and complex. Heath had practiced law as a defense attorney for ten years, and it would take time to go through every single case.
    The moonlight gleamed off the stainless-steel appliances in his huge kitchen. He’d cooked more in here in the past month than he had in the entire two years previously. His life had changed dramatically since the girls had come to live with him. He would do anything he could to make them smile again.
    His slippers crunched on something, and he looked down. Glass glimmered back at him, and a warm breeze touched the back of his neck. He whirled toward the window and saw the curtains flutter. Someone from the outside had broken the window, and the glass had fallen on the floor. Was the intruder still inside?
    He grabbed a butcher knife from the block on the granite countertop and ran for the stairs to check