We woke to a superb spring day and I made breakfast as a small thank you to Patsy. She called Dan, who came right over, and we enjoyed blueberry pancakes and hazelnut coffee on my deck. Although we did need heavy sleeves as protection from the wind, it was a rare Kodiak day with a cloudless cerulean sky and a freakishly warm temperature for early morning. Festival goers might actually need sunscreen today.
Patsy and I cleaned up the kitchen while Dan walked Eddie and Daisey, He returned to a couple jokes about a “busman’s holiday” but it was apparent that Dan, despite his poor bedside manner with human customers, did truly care about animals.
I fished a small container of wild blueberries from the freezer and gave them to Patsy and Dan as they were leaving. I was thankful that I went berry picking last year and that I had a vacuum sealer. It would be another month before this year’s crop of blueberries were ready for picking so Patsy was delighted with my token of appreciation.
Feeling better, I wanted to get out. I wanted a closer view of the Crab Festival and to see my friends but my injuries told me to stay put a little longer. I also wanted to know what was going on with Guy. Kelvin mentioned that he was released last night. I was a little surprised and, the truth be told, a little miffed that I hadn’t heard from him by now. For only the second time in my life I had shared my secret and this time I did it for him. This was huge for me but Guy had no way of knowing exactly how huge.
I did my best to shower and make my bed but I did have cracked ribs, an injured wrist, and a recent concussion. I dressed in sweats, heavy socks, and a pony tail before plopping myself down with a cup of tea, two rat terriers, and an Ann Rice novel on the sofa. As much as I liked going out with people, I always enjoyed quiet, domestic bliss. Perhaps this was a result of a turbulent childhood. There was plenty of food, plenty to read, and the love and company of two canine companions. Within a half hour, the two canines and one human were wrapped in a cotton afghan and napping.
The phone woke us all with such a start that Eddie barked. I looked around at doors and windows and felt a flutter of fear in my stomach. “Relax, it’s just the phone little buddy.”
It was Guy. I was relieved to hear from him. He started to explain his last two days to me before asking if he could talk to me in person. He needed to do a little work on the boat before coming over so he offered to pick up festival food and bring me lunch around one. I thought that plan was perfect – I could finish my nap and still have time to fix myself up a bit. I was wrong.
The dogs heard him first. Their movement from the couch woke me up before they barked his arrival. Again, I woke startled and felt worried that someone was out there trying to get in. It didn’t help that I was having dreams about the dark dining experience but the dreams always ended exactly where my conscious memory stopped. Apparently, the door to my memories remained closed and locked for now.
What a relief it was to discover that it was Guy in the driveway. At the same time, I felt panic because I was still wearing my old, comfortable sweats and I assumed I had a horrible case of crooked bed head ponytail. As I ran into the bathroom, to see exactly what one minute of effort could do to my appearance, I wondered why he was here so early. I decided that if he is going to show up before our scheduled time then he is just going to have to live with what he finds; however, these thoughts had to run through my mind as I swooshed Listerine in my mouth and simultaneously brushed my hair and kicked off my ratty slippers. On my way to the closet to grab my nice pair of seal and otter slippers, I noticed my clock radio displayed 1:00. Crap, he wasn’t early. I overslept!
When I opened the door he knelt down to rub my eager dogs and I thought I heard a slight murmur of doggie talk before he unfolded his tall, lean body to his full height. He closed the door and stepped toward me. I felt awkward and wasn’t sure if this visit was business or pleasure.
Guy reached his arm around my waist, pulled me against his torso, and reached up and grabbed the hair on the back of my head. My ribs wanted to object to his force but I squelched any complaints. He pulled my head back by my hair, gently, and kissed me. It was a commanding yet tender kiss – slow, warm, and long. I felt as though lightening cursed through my veins. My knees went week under his control. As I began to crumble, he scooped me up and placed me on the sofa. He assumed my response was due to my recent injuries but I knew it was the powerful kiss.
Our lunch of tanner crab legs, a smoked turkey leg, and a bruin burger was a high-protein feast. The bruin burger is a Crab Festival staple and the organization that makes them runs out every year no matter how bad the weather tries to run off fairgoers. It’s a savory concoction of ground meat, onions, seasonings, and perhaps cheese all wrapped up in dough and fried. The exact recipe is a well-guarded secret.
After lunch Guy was ready to talk. We talked for two hours with bathroom breaks as our only interruption. I learned that Guy suspected Aunt Cecil had a plan to end her life. She had taken care of what she referred to as” loose ends” and made Guy aware of estate, her will, and her wishes. At the time he thought she was preparing for the future, the inevitable outcome of her illness, but in looking back her plans were completed so quickly, so frantically.
We also talked about how the Diana dress had helped remove the suspicion toward Guy. His lawyer asked how I knew these things and, in a way, Guy was asking me the same through his statement. I let him believe it was just good detective work although I didn’t understand why I was willing to share my secret with Kathleen’s husband, who I barely knew, and not Guy. That was something I would need to consider in depth sometime soon. In the meantime, I let him thank me over and over for my contribution to his release.
Eventually I needed a break from all this Aunt Cecil talk and sent Guy down to pick up a copy of the Island Breeze while I made coffee and plated a few of Mary Margaret’s homemade cookies. I was afraid too much more talking and I would accidentally reveal too much.