Teacup Novellas 02 - Strike the Match Read Online Free

believe.”
    “Strangers?”
    “No. They’re from Idaho, I think, but they used to summer here a lot. Apparently decided to build a permanent home here. It’s a shame, too. That was some place. You’d have loved it. A whole bank of windows on both levels overlooking the ocean, wrap-around porch. Incredible view. Now it’s gone.”
    “How?”
    “How what?”
    “How’d it start?”
    “They don’t know yet. Bill said there’d be an investigation. I’d hate to think it was arson, but who knows.”
    Shep nodded again. The clock ticked on.
    Grant finished his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “No charters today with all this rain?”
    Shep shook his head.
    “So what are your plans for the day?”
    Shep shrugged. “Need Fig Newtons. Oatmeal.”
    “Tell you what. You pick up your groceries, let me do a little more work here, then we’ll meet over at Chandlers for a couple of cinnamon rolls. My treat.”
    His father stood up, dug a hand deep into the pocket of his worn pants. “Well—”
    Grant scooted his chair back and stood up. “Oh, c’mon. It won’t kill you, Pop. If anyone tries to bite you, I’ll whomp ‘em with my baseball bat. Fair enough?” He took the empty cup from his father and deposited both on the kitchen counter.
    Shep headed for the back porch. “We’ll see.”
    “No good. I’ll see you there at nine sharp. Don’t make me come looking for you.”
    “Well’sir . . .”
    The back door slammed, punctuating the old man’s signature retort, his answer to everything.
    Grant chuckled at the familiar peculiarities of his father, loving him all the more for it. He poured himself another cup of coffee. If he worked hard he could have the new layout ready to roll in another hour. He looked out the workroom window to see sheets of rain parading down the street. He still wasn’t used to this weather. Especially on press day. Paper and ink weren’t too fond of humidity in the hundred percentile range. Could be another long night.
    As he took his seat, he reached for the mouse to scan through the pictures again. He scrolled through them to make sure he hadn’t missed anything important. A face popped out at him. How did I miss this one?
    He clicked on the thumbnail image to see the bigger version of Keri McMillan talking to Bill. Grant remembered the shot now. He’d used his zoom lens, focusing on the moisture of her lips to bring her into perfect clarity. Her hand was suspended above her hair. He remembered that she’d grabbed a fistful of those curls in apparent frustration at Bill’s remarks shortly after he took the picture. He clicked on the zoom icon, making Keri’s image even bigger. She was without question beautiful. The lines of her jaw, her slender nose. Olive-green eyes filled with emotion. Even in the darkness, he’d noticed her teeth. She hadn’t smiled once, but as she’d talked, he could see they were perfect and straight and white.
    So her teeth are nice. She’s not a horse, Dawson . Get a grip.
    He leaned forward, looking closer at the computer screen. Tears were pooled in those dark green eyes.
    It disturbed him to look at her in such obvious pain.
    It disturbed him even more that it disturbed him at all.
     

     
    “Feel better?”
    Keri toweled off her hair. “Much better. Thanks.”
    “Our clothes are in the wash. They’ll be ready by the time we finish breakfast. Here, have some coffee. NO, Muffy! Get down!”
    The ball of fur bouncing at Keri’s feet took a sudden beeline for the sofa, diving under its plaid skirt.
    “What was that?”
    “That’s my naughty, naughty little girl. She’s a rescue from the pound, but I’m about to take her back if she doesn’t start minding me. I’ve had her about three months now, I guess. And I’ve decided she’s schizophrenic.”
    Keri leveled her eyes at her aunt. “A schizophrenic dog?”
    “Oh very. When she’s playful like this, I call her Muffy. Cute as a button. But sometimes she’s rowdy and acts