Chapter 3 Unexpected Gift

Gil led Bliss upstairs to the police station’s main level, where they were greeted by a cry of elation from Fran Beecher. The grandmotherly office manager leaped up from her chair and shuffled across the room faster than Gil realized she was capable of moving. She was a short dumpling of a woman with salt and pepper hair framing her round, friendly face.

“Bliss, sweetie!” She threw her arms around Bliss so energetically that she nearly unseated the tall cup of coffee in Bliss’s hand.

Gil quickly plucked it out of harm’s way.

“It’s so good to have you back where you belong.” Tears glinted in Fran’s eyes. “I’m as proud as punch over all your accomplishments, but this is your home, child. Don’t you ever forget that, you hear?”

“Child. Sweetie. Darlin’. Doctor,” Wheeler drawled, moving his hands up and down at his sides like he was weighing something on a scale. “Seems as if everyone has their own name for the famed Bliss Hawling.” He stepped closer to Gil to mutter, “What do you call her? Babe?”

Gil glared at him, sorely tempted to slug him. However, he was too busy speculating about what Fran Beecher’s connection was to Bliss. They were acting like old friends.

“Do you still have her?” he heard Bliss inquire softly.

“Not the original model.” Fran’s voice was equally soft. “It’s been too long for that, hon. I still have two of her grandsons, though, from her daughter’s litter.”

It dawned on Gil that they must be speaking about Fran’s pair of yippy Boston terriers.

Bliss’s expression turned wistful. “May I come visit them before I leave town?”

“You’d better!” Fran gave her another hug. “They’re yours if you want them. Just say the word.”

Bliss’s lips parted in surprise, but all she did was compress them back together and return Fran’s hug.

The phone on Fran’s desk rang, making her fly toward it. Gil took the opportunity to slip Bliss’s cup of coffee back into her hand.

“Oh!” She blinked in surprise at it. “Thanks, Gil.”

“No problem.” He liked the sound of his name on her lips. There was just something about the way she said it that made him feel good. His late wife had somehow always managed to infuse a bit of contempt in it. Not Bliss, though. She was too gracious and compassionate to play games like that. Too inherently kindhearted and good.

“My office is this way.” He splayed one hand against the small of her back as he steered her across the room. The way her lithe figure molded against his palm was a heady feeling. There was so much energy in her. So much life.

“Nice,” she breathed as they stepped across the threshold. “So this is where they keep the top brass!”

“If you say so.” He grunted as he shut the door behind them. “It’s about to become Luke’s office.” I hope. He’d been campaigning hard behind the scenes to make sure the results of the next election brought about that small miracle. Every chance he got, he had Luke serving as acting sheriff, to prove to the town just how ready the young police sergeant was to step into his shoes. If he succeeded in getting elected, he’d be the first Hawling to ever hold the position.

“It’s a beautiful space.” She stepped away from him to twirl in a circle, drinking in their surroundings. He glanced around them, trying to see the room through her eyes.

“I’ll be sure to tell Fran you approve. This is all her doing.” The hardwood flooring had recently been refinished and resealed, and the old wood paneling had been painted a pale shade of gray. Fran had insisted on leaving his antique cherrywood desk intact, inherently understanding that a guy his age needed to keep a few familiar things around him.

He started to step around Bliss at the same moment she took a step back. “Whoops!” He gently caught her against his chest, cradling her there for a moment before letting her go. “Didn’t mean for that to happen.” He wasn’t complaining, though.

“How about I get this tired lady out of your way?” She gave a self-deprecatory chuckle and plopped herself into one of his two guest chairs. Fran had updated the button tufted backrests and seats with leather the shade of black cherries.

“You’re not in my way, Bliss. You never have been.” He moved around his desk to take a seat across from her. His late wife stared accusingly back at him from the small vintage oval frame he’d kept on the side of his desk for nearly thirty years. She’d switched out the photo a few times. Somehow, though, they’d never gotten around to taking a picture together.

While Bliss continued her armchair tour of his office, he slid the vintage frame into his right desk drawer, careful to do it when she wasn’t looking.

His gaze fell on the black velvet zipper pouch laying in front of him on his desk. He reached for it and idly pulled it open, sliding the ancient-looking piece of jewelry out to rest on his desk calendar. Though Fran kept an online schedule for him, he was old school, preferring to write out his own reminders for his appointments.

Bliss sipped her latte and watched him push the bracelet this way and that with an executive pen from the set Fran had given him last Christmas. “Other than being old and beautiful, is there anything special about this piece of jewelry?”

“Not that I know of.” He eyed the tarnished scrollwork on the sides of the bracelet, pondering the niggling sensation of having seen the same pattern elsewhere. “Mary brought it back from a trip she and her dad took to New York City a few years ago.”

“New York?” Bliss abruptly sat forward to peer more closely at the bracelet.

“Yep.” He hadn’t gone on the trip with them for one simple reason. He hadn’t been invited.

“Not that there’s any connection, but that’s the same city Iris Hildebrand was from.” She set her coffee cup on the edge of his desk. “Before she married a Hawling.”

“You want to try it on?” Gil was already picturing how the lovely old piece of jewelry would look against Bliss’s creamy skin.

“You actually want me to put it on?” She sounded surprised.

He shrugged. “Why not? It belongs to you now.”

“There’s no way I’m holding you to that.” She shook her head vehemently. “As much as I appreciate what you did out there on the highway…”

“You have to take it, Bliss.” He gave her a pleading look. “Our whole defense rests on the fact that it’s a gift from me to you.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” She shook her head again. “It looks valuable, Gil. Like really valuable, now that I’m seeing it up close.”

Yeah, well, you’re a really valuable woman. All he said, though, was, “If it makes any difference to you, Mary never wore it.”

Bliss’s dark eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. “Why would that make a difference?”

But it did. They both knew it. Instead of answering, he held up the delicate silver bracelet and angled his head at her hand.

With a soft sound of capitulation, she held out her arm — the one that didn’t already have a watch circling it.

His large fingers fumbled a little with the clasp, but he finally managed to get it snapped in place.

They stared at it in silence.

“Wow!” She whispered the word reverently. “It’s so beautiful, Gil.”

He drank in her awed expression. “It looks like it was made for you.”

The glow in her eyes dimmed. “But it wasn’t.” Her fingers inched toward the clasp.

“I don’t want it back,” he growled.

She stilled her movements, looking startled. “It belongs in a museum.”

He couldn’t disagree with that. “Is it just me, or does the scrollwork look familiar?”

Her eyes widened. “I’m very sure I’ve never laid eyes on this bracelet before today.”

That wasn’t what he meant. He shook his head. “I’ve seen this same pattern somewhere else.” Why couldn’t he remember where?

Bliss made a faint humming sound in the back of her throat. “Now that you mention it…” She squinted at the lovely bracelet again. “It reminds me of the silver locket found by Iris Hawling’s casket.” No one was sure yet if there was any connection between the mummified woman and the old locket. However, it was being preserved in a sealed box in the office lab Bliss would be working at. “I’m hoping I have time to take a closer look at it, clean it up a little, and maybe run some age tests on it.”

“Only one way to find out.” Gil stood. “Want to go have a look at it?”

“Now?” As Bliss stood, she swayed a little on her feet.

Concern leaped into Gil’s chest. “Nah, it can wait. You’re exhausted.” He moved around the desk to lift her cup of latte and to-go box of quiche. “How about I drive you to the place you’ll be staying? You can get some rest, and maybe we can talk more about this over dinner or something?”

“Sounds like a plan.” She tried to muffle a yawn. “What hotel did you book for me?”

“We didn’t.” Gil had been waiting as long as possible to break the news to her, so she wouldn’t turn him down flat. “There’s a cottage on the lake that’s been in my family for years.” His side of it, not Mary’s. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable there, I assure you, than in a boring hotel room.” His late wife had tried to get him to tear it down and replace it with a cabana for entertaining their friends, but he’d refused. It was one of his few possessions that felt like it was all his.

“A Hawling staying on the hallowed lake?” Bliss shot him a teasing look. “Are you sure that’s allowed?”

“Please stop.” He knew she was referring to the fact that mostly Remingtons lived there, but that had happened long before either of them had been born.

“Touchy,” she stage whispered. “Wheeler was right about you.”

Instead of gracing such nonsense with a reply, he dug the key to the cottage from the pocket of his jeans and dangled it in front of her.

She accepted it with a look of wonder. “This is really, really, really nice of you, Gil.”

“What you’re doing for this town is really nice.” He deliberately caressed her fingers during the hand off.

Though she didn’t act like she noticed, color blossomed on her cheeks. “As if I could resist something as juicy as ID’ing a pair of ancient mummies!” She playfully dropped the key inside her crossbody purse. “Stuff like that is music to this gal’s ears.”

“Morbid.” He chuckled. “I like it.” It was refreshing to be speaking to a woman who didn’t shudder and shrink away from the stuff he had to deal with day in and day out. Dead bodies were unfortunately part of a sheriff’s job now and then.

“Ha! I’ve probably stared into the caskets of more corpses than you have,” she jeered. “I’ve undoubtedly handled more skeletons.”

“Is the fact that I find that hot going to be a problem for us?” he teased back.

She wrinkled her nose at him as she reached for her latte. “You do realize there’s probably something terribly wrong with both of us?”

He handed back her cup of coffee. “If there is, I’m not gonna lose any sleep over it.”

On his way out of the building, he signed off on the statement Luke and Wheeler had prepared about the earlier incident. He spent the rest of his and Bliss’s brief walk through the department enjoying the curious stares his staff cast in their direction. He hoped they noticed the lovely silver bracelet she was wearing.

As he assisted her into the passenger seat of his Land Rover and handed her the to-go box of quiche, he muttered, “I’m really sorry about that mess back on the highway. You deserved a better welcome into town than that.”

She gestured at him with her to-go quiche and coffee cup before setting both on the console. “You more than made up for it with food, coffee, and jewelry.” She buckled her seatbelt. “And I still have every intention of giving back the last item on that list.”

“Sorry. No returns.” He shut the door behind her.

During their drive to the lake, he received a series of short texts from his father-in-law, which he unfortunately had set up to play over the speaker system inside the vehicle.

“We need to talk.”

“Dinner.”

“Tonight.”

Though Bliss shot him a curious look, she didn’t say anything.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going.” He couldn’t believe the old codger expected him to after what he’d pulled earlier. George Brand was an aging attorney with one foot in retirement and the other foot still in the law office he couldn’t seem to stay out of. Word on the street was that George’s younger partner couldn’t wait to see the last of him. George had been an all-around unpleasant person for years, and he’d only gotten worse after his daughter’s death. His wife had died before he’d moved to town. Gil had always wondered if it had anything to do with his surliness.

“You really should,” Bliss urged.

“Not interested,” he returned flatly.

“As the old saying goes,” she wagged a finger at him, “keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Not,” she amended, “that your father-in-law is your enemy.”

“The fact that he is,” he snarled, “is my cross to bear. Not yours.” Man, it felt good to get that off his chest!

“Oh, Gil!” Bliss sounded genuinely regretful. “You’re shooting holes right and left in all my theories about you and your perfect life.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but this is the real me.” He used his knee to drive for a second or two so he could spread his hands. “Warts and all.”

“Hmm.” She peeked at him from beneath her lashes.

“Looking for the warts?”

She smiled. “I was just thinking that I like you better now that I’ve seen this side of you.

Her words warmed his heart. “Are we still talking about my warts?”

She treated him to a long, searching look before answering. “It’s easier to admire someone who’s had to overcome obstacles to get to where they are. True success always comes at a cost.”

They arrived at the section of the highway that curved around the lake that Heart Lake had been named after. He slowed his speed so they could enjoy the view. The water’s edge was dotted with boat docks and railed walkways leading to gazebos. A little further inland were the lake homes, smaller cottages, and the few older farms that were still standing. Many of them had been torn down and replaced with newer structures. There was one big barn in particular that he’d always considered a landmark. He loved the way its red walls were reflected in the water, creating a watery mirror image.

As Bliss turned her face toward the window and gazed at the lake, he wondered what she was thinking. Before silence could settle for too long between them, he asked quietly, “Speaking of success, what was the cost of yours?”

She sucked in a breath. “I’ll tell you sometime. Just not today.”

“Fair enough.” Disappointment shot through him. He’d laid his heart bare for her today, but she wasn’t ready to do the same in return. She might never be ready.

“I’ll tell you before I leave town. I won’t forget, Gil.”

Oh? His heart lightened at her words. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Bliss.”

Seven hours later

George Brand was already seated inside the Longhorn Grill when Gil arrived. It was located just inside the Comanche reservation adjacent to Heart Lake. It was such a popular place that the owners had recently expanded the main dining room. Despite its rustic bluebell centerpieces and red-and-white checkered cotton napkins, it was one of the pricier restaurants in the area, too, at least during the dinner hour.

No doubt that was why George had chosen it. Gil also had no doubt he’d be stuck paying the bill.

“Evening, George.” Gil nodded at him as he pulled out his chair, noting that the complimentary round loaf of honey wheat bread was more than half eaten.

His father-in-law waved his butter knife instead of answering. His mouth was too full of bread. After swallowing, he noisily licked his fingers.

Gross. Gil mentally gave him the rest of the bread. He rarely indulged in it, anyway. It was hard enough to keep the extra pounds from creeping on at his age.

In stark contrast to his deplorable table manners, George had on a navy sports blazer over a white button-up shirt and beige trousers. When he lifted his hand to take an oversized bite of the last slice of bread, Gil caught the flash of diamonds on his cufflinks. He was in his mid-seventies, but he still had a head full of white hair.

Gil had always wondered if he’d invested in implants. Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things. It was just one of those subjects a person’s mind wandered to when their dinner companion was all but ignoring them.

Figuring his father-in-law would get around to talking when he was good and ready, Gil opened the menu and pretended to browse it. He wasn’t very hungry. The man he was sitting across from was impossible to relax and enjoy himself around.

“How could you?” Without warning, George threw his butter knife down on the table with a noisy clatter.

“How could I what?” Gil lowered his menu an inch or two, pretending to still browse it so as not to give the man the satisfaction of his full attention.

“Bring that woman back into town, that’s what!” His father-in-law’s voice dripped venom. “Of all people, Gil! Of all people!” He shook his head from side to side like a mangy dog.

“If you’re referring to Dr. Bliss Hawling, sir?—”

“Who else would I be referring to?” His father-in-law fisted both hands on the table. “Are there any other women besides her that you’ve been dishonoring Mary’s memory with?”

As if!Gil almost laughed at what the man was implying. His job as sheriff left him little time for a social life. It had been a bone of contention between him and his social butterfly of a wife for years. She’d been born to party, and the social elite in town had adored her for all the time and resources she’d poured into the many parties she’d thrown. Gil had been much less enamored of those same parties. The lavish amounts she’d spent on food and decorations had put a massive dent in his small-town sheriff’s salary.

“Your silence is telling,” George Brand seethed between gritted teeth.

“Dr. Hawling was invited into town by the mayor,” Gil informed him in a mild voice. “She’s here to run a few more tests on the mummies. Then she’s leaving. It’ll probably be years before we see her again. If ever.” Bleakness settled in his chest. He knew he spoke the truth.

“What sort of tests?” His father-in-law shot the question his way as quickly as a bullet.

“She’s going to try to establish some DNA markers.” It wasn’t a secret. “Why?”

“You do realize that every Tom, Dick, and Harry will flood into town for blood tests?” The elderly man’s mouth twisted in fury. “It’ll be like the gold rush days all over again. We’ll be flooded with riffraff whose heads are full of nothing but get-rich-quick dreams. There’s no way your minuscule staff will be able to curb the outbreak of lawlessness.”

It sounded like a whole lot of what-ifs to Gil, but he kept silent.

A petite, sloe-eyed waitress named Tiva glided their way. As she drew closer, the title on her name tag reminded Gil that she’d been promoted to management shortly before marrying into the family. Her husband, Police Chief Ariel Montana, headed up the tiny rez police force.

“Hi, Gil,” she called cheerfully.

“How’s Max doing in his campaign for sheriff?” He grinned at the memory of giving her young nephew a tour of the Heart Lake Police Department not too long ago. Though only four or five-years-old, he was already bragging that he was going to be a police chief like his uncle someday, to which Gil had jokingly informed him that his sheriff’s position was likely to open sooner.

Tiva rolled her eyes as she pulled out her ordering pad. Gil could only assume she was covering for someone who’d called in sick this evening. “You’d best warn Luke that Max is gonna give him a run for his money. All two dollars and twenty-five cents worth of the campaign budget he’s managed to scrape up so far.”

They shared a chuckle over that. Gil pulled out his wallet, peeled off a five-dollar bill, and held it out to her. “Consider this my contribution.”

Tiva waved it away laughingly. “Please don’t feed the beast.” She jotted down their orders and moved away to deliver them to the kitchen.

George, who’d been silent during most of their exchange, stared darkly after her. “Ever the fan of the underdog. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Gil didn’t consider his question worthy of a response.

“You let it poison everything you touch,” his father-in-law continued. “You let it ruin your marriage.”

“How so?” Gil knew the guy was only goading him, but he was getting fed up with the entire conversation.

Elation flared in the man’s gaze at the realization that he’d finally gotten a rise out of Gil. “Are you forgetting about the Bliss Kiss?”

“Old news.” Gil made no pretense of hiding the boredom in his voice.

The man seated across from him acted like he hadn’t heard him. “Bliss Hawling was always jealous of my Mary. Always wanted what she had, including you. How could you not see that?”

Gil shook his head. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“She staged the whole thing.”

Gil drew a heavy breath. “Who staged what, sir?”

“Bliss staged that kiss with you back in high school, just to hurt Mary’s feelings.” His father-in-law’s voice grew more agitated.

Gil knew for a fact that wasn’t true, since he’d been present when the D-Dave Invasion personally instigated that particular prank. The rest of their football teammates had egged him on, and Gil had eventually caved under their pressure.

“And now you’re decimating her memory,” George Bland sneered, “by giving away her most treasured possession to the same woman who made her life unbearable!”

“Are you for real?” Gil didn’t believe that for a second. “I never once saw Mary wearing that bracelet.” His father-in-law seemed to be forgetting that the only reason Gil had been forced to give it away was to thwart his attempt to frame Bliss for theft.

“It was too valuable to wear,” George Brand howled. His voice was loud enough to turn the heads of the people seated nearest to them.

“It looks like a piece of junk.” Gil got a bigger kick out of the man’s choleric expression than he should have. “Fortunately, Dr. Hawling happens to like old, tarnished stuff. Giving it to her…” The guy had to know Gil was on to him. In case he was wearing a wire, though, he was careful to keep the timing of his gift vague. “I reckon it just felt like the right thing to do,” he concluded, “for a woman working so diligently to unravel the mysteries surrounding one of our founding families.”

“You think you’ve won this round, eh?” His father-in-law’s mouth twisted belligerently.

“What I think is that you’re grieving,” Gil countered coolly. “I think you’re looking for someone to blame for my failed marriage to your daughter and her untimely death. I truly wish there was something I could do to give you the comfort and closure you need, but I think we both know that’s not what you’re really looking for. So if it’s a punching bag you want, you’re looking at him, sir.” He held the man’s gaze to wordlessly deliver the rest of his message. Leave Bliss out of it.

George Brand adopted an expression of pure loathing. “You have no idea what I really want.” He stood and threw his napkin on the table.

“Try me.” Gil spread his hands beseechingly. He was weary of all the drama that had plagued the Brand side of the family for so long. He was ready to put it to rest once and for all.

“As the golden boy of Heart Lake, you’d never understand.” Despite the fact that they had steak dinners on order, his father-in-law stormed out of the restaurant.

Tiva appeared at their table moments later. “Is everything okay, sheriff?”

“It is now.” He glanced toward the door. “Sorry about that. My father-in-law has been through a lot.”

“So have you,” she snapped so swiftly that his eyes widened. “Don’t worry. I’ve already cancelled his order.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He didn’t like the idea of allowing his family issues to affect the restaurant’s bottomline.

“I insist.” Her chin rose. “You might have most of the town fooled, Gil, but you’ll never fool a gal like me. I’ve seen and endured too much myself not to recognize what’s really going on here.”

He didn’t ask what she meant by that, because part of him didn’t want to know. Nevertheless, the kindness in her voice nearly brought him to his knees.

“Thanks, Tiva.” His voice was gruff with emotion. “Any chance you can box up my meal for the road?”

“You betcha!” Her smile was full of empathy. “I’ll even throw in a slice of Aiyanna’s strawberry cheesecake. In case you’ve never tried it, it’s to die for!”

“That sounds great. Thanks!” As soon as she returned with his to-go order, he settled his bill and headed outside to the parking lot. Though it was late, he dialed Bliss, half expecting his call to go to voicemail.

She picked up, sounding sleepy. “Please assure me you’re not coming to haul me in for something else, sheriff.”

“Ha. Ha.” His upper lip curled. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I napped for several hours, which is the worst possible way to deal with jet lag. Though I can barely keep my eyes open, I’ve been trying to do exactly that for the past hour in the hopes of getting at least a little sleep tonight.”

“Would a slice of strawberry cheesecake help?” He glanced at the brown-handled bag sitting in his passenger seat. Thanks to Tiva, it was filled with to-go boxes of varying sizes. He was pretty sure she’d included a fresh loaf of their complimentary bread.

“Are you serious?” Bliss sounded a little more awake.

“Give me a Y. Give me an E. Give me an S,” he teased. “The cheesecake is compliments of the Longhorn Grill.”

She gave a girlish giggle. “It’s almost like you’re angling for a Bliss Kiss 2.0.”

“What if I am?” He couldn’t believe she’d actually said that.

“Sorry.” She sounded like she was smothering a yawn. “You do realize that was just the jet lag talking?”

He didn’t care. “I’ll have the cheesecake at your front door in five to ten minutes.” If there was any chance in the world of a Bliss Kiss 2.0, even one inspired by jet lag, he wasn’t about to miss it.