The Quiet Storm. RaeAnne Thayne

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      Several hours after her visit with the terrifying police detective, Elizabeth still couldn’t quite seem to catch her breath.

      She sat on a bench near the water’s edge watching Alex toss stick after stick into the shallows in the hope that his new puppy would chase after it.

      He wasn’t having much luck. Although she was a yellow Labrador, Maddie either didn’t have the retriever instincts of her breed or she didn’t quite catch the concept of fetch just yet. Instead of bounding into the water after the stick, she planted all four of her gangly legs on the rocky beach and watched the boy with a bemused expression on her jowly face.

      Probably the same expression Elizabeth had worn at Beau Riley’s desk earlier—that slightly panicked what-am-I-supposed-to-do-now? look.

      The detective’s opinion of her shouldn’t matter at all. She knew it. But she hated imagining what he must have thought of her sitting in front of him with her thoughts and words atangle. Pathetic. He must have thought she was absolutely pitiful, and he had probably agreed to help her only so he wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore.

      She sighed, angry with herself for continuing to dwell on this. Was she so narcissistic, so desperately eager for approval, that she really cared why the man had agreed to help her? His motives didn’t matter. Finding Tina’s killer was the important thing.

      Still, she couldn’t help wondering with bitter regret why he seemed to bring out the worst in her, first the night of Grace Dugan’s fund-raiser and then today at the police station.

      Most of the time she was far more composed. She could go days without stumbling over her words or missing more than the occasional conversational beat.

      If she did start to have trouble, she had learned over the years that she could invariably hide the worst of it behind a veneer of chilly reserve.

      It was just her bad luck that Beau Riley—the first man she’d been attracted to since Stephen—made her forget all her usual defenses, made her feel just like a stupid, stuttering girl again.

      And there was the real trouble, she admitted. She was attracted to him, to that masculine combination of dark wavy hair, green eyes and lean, dangerous features.

      She knew better. Experience could be a cruelly effective teacher. A man as brash and confident as Beau Riley would want nothing to do with someone like her.

      Alex grunted suddenly, and she looked up from her grim thoughts in time to see him throw the last stick from the pile he’d collected so carefully into the water with more pique than precision. He made a garbled series of sounds, each more frustrated sounding than the last as he glared at the dog he had adored until now.

      Elizabeth mentally kicked herself. Usually she was far more attuned to Alex’s moods. Why hadn’t she noticed his mounting frustration over his inability to make Maddie do what he wanted? If she had been paying attention—instead of brooding over her encounter with Beau Riley—she would have picked up on the signs and headed this minitantrum off at the pass.

      She, of all people, should have sensed it. Heaven knows, she had enough experience herself with that same suffocating frustration over the past twenty-seven years.

      Rising swiftly from the bench, she touched Alex’s shoulder so he would face her. As soon as he turned, she had to fight the urge to kiss that adorable scowl off his little face.

      Don’t give up, she signed.

      Maddie’s a stupid dog, he responded, his hands that were still chubby with baby fat a little clumsy with the signs.

      No she’s not. We need to work a little harder to teach her what we want. I’ll help you.

      Alex’s bottom lip stuck out. I don’t want to. Maddie’s a stupid dog, he repeated.

      Not stupid. Young. She won’t learn unless we take the time to teach her. Come on, I’ll help you.

      For the next half hour they worked with the dog, trying to teach her to obey the hand signal for fetch. Elizabeth was tempted several times to use verbal commands with the dog but she resisted, remembering the advice of Alex’s speech pathologist.

      Maddie was Alex’s dog, a birthday gift from her and Luisa a month ago, just a week before Tina’s death. As her master, he should be able to command her. Since the boy’s oral speech was unreliable to nonexistent, his speech therapist thought it best to use only hand signals with the dog.

      With a little instruction, Maddie was a smart thing, Elizabeth thought as the dog finally managed to figure out what they wanted from her. At last, she eagerly bounded after the stick and brought it back to Alex, who giggled and let her lavish doggie kisses on his face.

      His frustration forgotten, the boy and dog wrestled happily in the thick carpet of grass above the shoreline. Elizabeth returned to her bench, content to watch them, her love for this sweet child a thick ache in her throat.

      She remembered that first moment she had seen him, shriveled and red and already squalling his little heart out. Tina had asked her to be her labor coach, so she had been there throughout that miraculous day he entered the world.

      Every time she thought about seeing him born, she wanted to weep with joy that she had been allowed to play such an important role in his life.

      She’d been there, too, at the routine six-month well-baby check with Tina when his pediatrician first suggested the child couldn’t hear. And at the subsequent specialist appointments when the doctor’s suspicions had been confirmed.

      She loved him as fiercely as if he had been her own child, and she wanted to do all she could to make sure he lived a happy life and grew up to be a confident, self-assured young man who would never look at his hearing impairment with any kind of shame.

      While they worked with the dog, storm clouds had begun to gather over the water. It was getting late, and Luisa would probably have dinner ready soon, she realized.

      She had waited just a moment too long to herd the boy and dog inside. By the time she managed to get Alex’s attention to sign that it was time to go in, the first drops of rain began to pelt them.

      She and Alex raced for the house, laughing as Maddie jumped around them with excitement. By the time they made it to the back door off the kitchen, the skies had opened in earnest and they narrowly escaped getting drenched.

      Inside the vast, gleaming kitchen, they were met by the luscious aroma of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies baking and by Luisa holding out the cordless phone to Elizabeth.

      “For you.” Luisa didn’t bother to hide her disapproval. “I was taking a message when I heard you come. It’s the policia. That detective.”

      Elizabeth froze, gazing at the phone as if it had suddenly barked at her like Maddie. She hated the funny twirling in her stomach but she couldn’t seem to control it.

      She wasn’t at all sure suddenly if she could handle another encounter with Beau Riley just yet. Maybe in a few days.

      She almost instructed Luisa to take his number so she could call him back after she had a chance to muscle up the courage. Then Alex brushed past her, caught in the gravitational pull of the cookies, and the words tangled in her throat.

      Alex. She had to remember СКАЧАТЬ