Deadly Ever After Eva Gates (best free ereader txt) 📖

me an awkward hug. My dad isn’t one for displays of affection, but he was making the effort, and I was pleased. He turned to Connor. “You take care of my daughter, young man.”

“I intend to do precisely that.”

“Why don’t you take my car, Dad,” I said, “rather than call for a cab. Connor, can you drive me? I don’t feel like driving home alone tonight. I can pick my car up tomorrow.”

“Good idea,” Dad said.

The three of us headed out into the night as the lights inside Jake’s Seafood Bar were turned down behind us. Mom did not call to say Ricky had turned up.

Chapter Seven

A fog moved in as we drove out of town, getting increasingly thicker as the lights of Nags Head dropped behind us. Swirls of mist wound themselves around the car, and Connor’s headlights struggled to illuminate the road ahead.

“Spooky,” I said.

He took a quick glance at me. “You going to be okay tonight?”

“Fog’s common enough around here, as you well know, so it’s not anything to worry about. I rather like the moodiness of it. I’m reading The Hound of the Baskervilles for book club, and this puts me in mind of the ‘great Grimpen Mire.’ ”

“Is that a real place, do you know?”

I’d done my prereading research to get ready for leading the book discussion. “No, it’s not. It’s believed to be based on a real place called Fox Tor. I like that name better—Fox Tor. It’s in Dartmoor. I’d love to visit it someday, it sounds so fascinating.”

“How about England for our honeymoon, Lucy?”

“I’d like that. We could go to Fox Tor and to Yorkshire to see where the Brontë sisters walked, to the Jane Austen House Museum in Hampshire, to Baker Street in London, to Bath where—”

“A literary honeymoon,” Connor said dryly. “How nice.”

“Then again,” I said, “maybe the Caribbean like we’ve discussed.”

He chuckled. “As long as you’re with me, I’ll go anywhere you like.”

“I wasn’t planning on going on my honeymoon by myself.”

He reached out and took my hand, and we turned into the fog-shrouded laneway to the lighthouse, passing beneath the row of tall red pines, their thick trunks indistinct in the mist.

Charles ran to greet me when I let myself into the library. I bent over and gave him a rub on the top of his head as he wound his body around my legs. I live alone, and I like it, but it’s always nice to come home, particularly when it’s late after an emotionally troubling day, to be greeted by someone happy to see me. Although, I suspect, Charles is more excited about having his food bowl refreshed than seeing me.

Most of the lights in the main room were off, only the lamp in the alcove and one at the bottom of the twisting iron stairs lit. I glanced around the library. I love being alone in the library after closing. I believe that when it’s very quiet, I can hear the rustle of conversation as the characters chat to each other, the wind moving through the sails of ships of old, the chug of a steam-powered train passing through the countryside, or the roar of jet engines bearing a heroine off to adventure and romance.

Louise Jane maintains that the lighthouse is haunted, and she has plenty of stories about people who came to their unexpected and sudden end within these round walls. But I’ve never sensed anything—other than my literary characters, that is. And that’s more than enough for me.

I didn’t bother switching on any more lights as I made my way up to the fourth floor. I knew this building so well by now. Around and around I went while Charles ran ahead, neatly balanced on the railing. I unlocked my door and hit the light switch. Charles ran for the food bowl. He gave it a sniff and turned to stare at me, shocked—shocked!—to find it empty.

I threw my purse onto the kitchen counter, kicked off my shoes, and took the kibble out of the cupboard. I know in what order my priorities lie.

Once Charles was happily tucking in, I grabbed the phone and curled up with it on the window seat. Something had come to mind that I’d not thought to ask Connor earlier. This apartment is so small there’s not room for much more than a bed, a small bathroom, and a kitchen alcove with a table and two chairs. The walls are round and white, with just one tall window set in the four-foot-thick stone walls above a small window seat covered with bright cushions, perfect for reading and gazing dreamily outside. The walls are so thick cell phone coverage is unreliable, so I still have a landline.

I love my Lighthouse Aerie, and I’ve been very happy here. But it’ll soon be time to leave, and I’m not regretting it. Time to move on to the next phase of my life.

With a smile on my face, I called Connor.

“Hi,” he said. “You’re safely inside?”

“I am. Charles is dining, and all is right with the world.”

“The world according to Charles must be a nice place to live.”

“I feel so bad for Evangeline and Ricky. Mom, who should know, says she and Rich didn’t have a particularly good marriage, but they had been married for a long time. And Ricky …”

“I get the feeling Ricky will be fine. I suspect Ricky always is.”

“Hum.”

“How about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, as in I didn’t know Richard the Second very well, but the whole thing is still upsetting. On the bright side, this time it didn’t happen here at the library.”

“For once,” Connor said.

Charles finished his meal, checked the entire kitchen floor and under the chairs to make sure he hadn’t overlooked anything, and then leapt onto the bed to wash his whiskers.

“I have a question for you. Who was that guy who came up to our table and knew Ricky and Evangeline?” I asked. “He knew you too, and I got the