Reflection Point

chapter EIGHT





Zach strolled into Cam’s outdoors store shortly before closing time later that same day looking for distraction. His friend stood at the cash register ringing up a sale to a family of tourists, so Zach eyed the different areas of the store, deciding where to spend his time. He wandered over to the golf section, lifted a putter from the display, and tested its weight. A good merchandiser, Cam had a bucket of balls, an Astroturf putting surface, and an electric ball return machine available for customers to try out the products.

Zach dropped a white golf ball onto the green surface and rolled a putt. He missed the target by six inches, scowled, and tried again. Then again.

“That one is two sixty-nine ninety-five,” Cam said.

“That’s a stupid amount of money to pay for a golf club.”

“I agree, but I sold two of them this week. If you’re looking for a putter, you should try this one.” Cam removed a club from a golf bag and handed it to Zach. “It’s under a hundred dollars and it has a great feel.”

Zach used the club to hit another ball. “Nice. I didn’t come here to buy a golf club, though. You got time to go by the pub and grab a beer? Or do you have to get home to the ball and chain?”

Cam sputtered a laugh. “Do me a favor. Let me be there when you use that term around Sarah.”

“She’d kick my ass.”

“Absolutely. Let me take care of my receipts and lock up. We can take the scenic route—I’ll need to drop off my deposit at the bank.”

While Cam returned to the cash register, Zach sidled up to the table where Cam had his fly-tying tools and supplies set up. Without really thinking about it, Zach tightened a hook into the jaws of the vise and picked up the bobbin. As he wound floss around the hook, his thoughts returned, yet again, to the incident along the highway. “Has Sarah said much about the newcomer from Georgia?”

“The delectable Ms. Moore.” Cam eyed Zach with interest. “Sarah bought a soap from her that makes her skin smell like butterscotch ice cream. Makes me want to lick my wife all over.”

“I really don’t need to hear details about your sex life, Murphy.”

“You’re jealous. Totally understandable, as is your interest in sexy Savannah.”

“Did I say I was interested in her?”

No, you just kissed the hell out of her, numbnuts. On the side of a public roadway. What were you thinking?

“You didn’t have to say anything,” Cam fired back. “I watched you at the softball game. You’re interested.”

Zach scowled and wound floss around the hook. “I’m not interested.”

“My wife will be crushed. She’s decided that the two of you are perfect together.”

Perfect together? Zach set down the bobbin. “A perfect disaster, maybe.”

“Why do you say that? I’ve never seen you shy away from a gorgeous woman.”

“I’m not shying away from anything.” No way was Zach going to mention the ex-con aspect of Savannah’s history. “I just know that she and I wouldn’t work.”

“Uh-huh,” Cam replied in a disbelieving tone. “Sounds to me like you protest a bit too much, but I’m not going to argue. I’m ready for that beer. I need a few more minutes with my receipts, though. You have time to tie a fly.”

“I don’t need any fishing flies,” Zach said, suddenly frustrated with … everything. “I am covered in flies. Deerflies are the bane of my existence. They lie in wait for me in my garage.”

Taking the change of subject in stride, Cam asked, “Did something die in your garage?”

“No. Jack says it’s what I get for living on a lake. We have armed hostilities going on.”

Cam grinned. “Armed?”

“Out-and-out war. The flies have teeth, you know, and they bite. I’ve started biting back.”

“That’s disgusting, Zachary.”

“I don’t eat ’em. I get wasp spray and a flyswatter, tie a bandanna around my head, and go Rambo on them. You gotta keep moving fast, or they’ll bite the fire out of you.” He hesitated a moment, then asked, “Why does Sarah think that?”

“About you and Savannah? I dunno. I can’t recall. I’m too distracted by the mental image of you fighting deerflies in your garage.”

“It’s a battlefield, I’m telling you. The buggers are fast and mean.”

“Try any ninja rolls on them?”

Zach pursed his lips. “No, but it’s a thought.”

“Sarah says that once Savannah is comfortable with someone, she warms up and is generous and fun to be around.”

“So is my dog,” Zach muttered. “Now that I think about it, ninja rolls might be just the ticket. The flies aren’t entirely stupid. They know when you’re running out of pookie from the change in spray-can harmonics, and that’s when they blitz your position. A roll would shake up the spray, too. Economy of motion.” He waited a beat and said, “She’s secretive.”

“That’s part of what makes her intriguing. Why wasp spray and not something made for flies?”

“What’s the challenge in that? Besides, there is no trap or bait or spray that will kill them or drive ’em away. I guess you’re right about the intriguing part. I’ve always liked to solve mysteries. The woman has layers. I want to peel them away.”

“I’d ask if you mean clothing or psychological layers, but I know you better than that. You’d say both. So if spray doesn’t kill them, again I ask: why wasp spray?”

“Zap ’em with it and they’ll fly full speed into walls, fall, flop around, then finally go legs up. Bottom line is, I don’t want to get involved with her.”

Cam shrugged. “Then don’t. Tell Yenta the Matchmaker to look for another victim.”

“You tell her. She’s your wife.” Zach fingered a turkey feather on the work table and finally gave voice to the thought that had been rolling around in his brain. “Maybe sleeping with her would get her out of my system.”

Even as he said, he realized the idea didn’t sit well. It wasn’t just sex with Savannah that he wanted. He’d had plenty of sex. This was different. This was weird.

Dangerous.

Cam scowled at him and spoke with a bit of grump in his tone. “Let’s try to have a little more white space between the phrases ‘your wife’ and ‘sleeping with her,’ all right?”

That managed to get a smile out of Zach. “You really are bothered by the fact that Sarah and I dated, aren’t you?”

“No. Okay, maybe a little. And because of that, I think I’ll point out that from my perspective, your being able to sleep with Savannah is far from a sure thing. All those sparks I witnessed at the ball game could be plain old dislike. Maybe your charm isn’t as legendary as you like to think.”

“Nah.” The sparks were real. The kiss this afternoon had proved that.

The woman confused him, probably because even though he knew the facts of her conviction and prison sentence, the circumstances around it remained unknown to him. She’d committed a crime and paid her debt, but until he knew her story, he didn’t really know the woman. Layers again.

“You know, Turner, it occurs to me that you’ve said more about Savannah in the past five minutes than you ever said about your snow bunny. I find that little detail interesting.”

Zach found it annoying. He couldn’t get the woman out of his mind. “Are you about through? I really would like to get that beer.”

“Almost. I just need to get something from the supply room. Give me a minute.”

It took him three, and when he returned, he handed Zach a brown paper bag containing something cylindrical. Looking inside, he saw it wasn’t the beer he expected. “What’s this?”

“I know I don’t have a license to sell ammo, but I couldn’t resist. It’s industrial strength.”

Zach read the label on the can of flying insect spray and grinned. “Awesome. Thanks, man.”

“Hey, if you’re contemplating ninja rolls on deerflies, supplying a little firepower is the least I can do. Especially since I want to be there to see it.”

A long, scented bath was first on Savannah’s to-do list when she returned home, but she found a note from Celeste Blessing hanging on her workshop door. Celeste requested that Savannah phone her at Angel’s Rest at her earliest convenience in order to discuss a potential business relationship. Savannah was tempted to ignore it—for no other reason than the older woman’s resemblance to Francine Vaughn. But as a businesswoman, Savannah couldn’t afford to miss potential opportunities due to her phobias. Whatever Celeste suggested, she would consider it, study it closely, and do her level best to use business instincts, not emotions, to make decisions.

Savannah put off her bath long enough to make the call, which turned out to be an excellent decision. Celeste wanted a new custom scent for the toiletries used at Angel’s Rest, and she’d offered Savannah the opportunity to present samples and a bid to win the business. The bed-and-breakfast business was something Savannah had targeted in her marketing plan, and getting Angel’s Rest for Savannah Soap Company products right out of the gate would be huge.

Ideas and possibilities swirled in her mind. She decided to forgo that bath and glass of wine for a quick shower and a diet soda while she retreated to her workshop to experiment with scents. She lectured herself to leave her worries about Zach Turner at the door, and for the next three days, she managed to do exactly that. Most of the time, anyway.

Celeste wanted a signature fragrance that was “light as a cloud, fresh as springtime, soothing to the soul, friendly, and uplifting, with a hint of spice to make it interesting.” Creating that scent would require much trial and error.

Savannah spent one entire morning categorizing her essential oils with Celeste’s wishes in mind. After that, it was match, mix, toss out; match, mix, toss out; et cetera, et cetera. By the time she left her workshop three days later with a tote bag filled with samples, she was on such a creative high that she could have sprouted wings and flown to Angel’s Rest.

As it was, she decided to walk to her meeting instead of taking the Taurus. It was a gorgeous morning and after three days trapped inside her workshop, she needed the exercise. Sunshine warmed the air and cast a glow on dewdrops clinging to flowers and lawns. The scent of baking bread drifted on the air, and Savannah’s stomach growled. “I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast,” she said to Inny, whom Celeste had invited over to play with the dachshund she was fostering for the area rescue group that Cat Davenport ran in her spare time. Privately, Savannah didn’t see where the woman found any. Between being a newlywed, building a summer camp, and running the town newspaper, Cat was one of the hardest workers Savannah had ever met. She liked Cat, too. She hoped that over time they could become better friends.

Focused on the presentation, she’d been too excited to eat this morning. A part of her wanted to prove herself to Francine’s twin more than anyone else in town. That was the emotional part of the proposition, and it was ridiculous, really. Celeste wasn’t Francine. She was no more important than any other woman Savannah had met since moving to town.

Celeste wasn’t Grams, either. Savannah’s grandmother had been the very definition of a true southern lady. And she’d be proud of Savannah, no matter what. That’s what really mattered.

Of course, the money she would make from sales to Angel’s Rest was important, so part of this need to impress the woman was real. She believed she’d do it with what she brought to show Celeste Blessing today.

She’d settled on four very distinct fragrances to offer Celeste. Savannah honestly believed that these selections were the best she’d ever produced. She strolled through town with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. When she arrived at the intersection of Fourth and Cottonwood, she glanced to her left just long enough to check traffic, her gaze sliding right over the vehicles parked in front of the sheriff’s office. She didn’t care where Zach Turner was or what he was doing or whose secrets he was spilling. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself on the lovely late spring morning.

She crossed the footbridge over Angel Creek and struck a course for the building that once upon a time had served as the carriage house for the Cavanaugh family’s Victorian mansion but now housed the spa facility for Angel’s Rest Healing Center and Spa. As she walked through the rose garden, the church bells in town began to chime the hour. “Right on time,” she murmured, stepping onto the spa facility’s porch just as the tenth bell pealed. Taking a moment, she mentally pictured Celeste Blessing, then Francine Vaughn, and she grimaced and shuddered. Savannah figured it was better for her to face her distaste and deal with it now so that she wouldn’t react stupidly when she saw Celeste.

She needed to get over this reaction. It was stupid and unfair to Celeste. Everything she’d seen and heard about Celeste Blessing made her out to be a truly wonderful person. Savannah figured she just needed to be around her more often so that when she looked at her she saw Celeste instead of Francine.

She opened the door to the spa and stepped inside. Glancing around, she didn’t see Celeste, only a tall, dark-haired woman who was in the process of kicking off her shoes as she took a seat in the pedicure chair. Spying Savannah, she said, “You must be Savannah Moore?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Gabi Romano. I’ve just moved to Eternity Springs. Celeste tells me you’re a newcomer, too.”

“I am.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Savannah. Maybe we can help each other settle into town.”

Savannah’s first reaction was to put on the chill, but then she remembered that she was trying to make an effort there, too. Adding friendly warmth to her voice, she said, “I think that would be nice.”

“Me too. Now, Celeste called a few minutes ago and said to tell you she’s running late, but for you to relax and enjoy a pedicure on the house.” She gestured toward the massage chair beside hers. “The water is warm and ready for you. Erin, the attendant, has gone to the kitchen for more ice, but she’ll be right back.”

“Oh.” Savannah glanced from the chair to her toes. She seldom indulged in pedicures, but did love them, and if it was on the house … why not? “Okay, thanks.”

As Savannah bent down to unbuckle the straps on her sandals, Gabi Romano’s cell phone rang. She checked the number, then said, “Excuse me, Savannah. I should get this. Family.” Then, “Hey, big brother. What’s up?”

As she listened to her call, Gabi wiggled her toes in the bubbling water of the salon chair’s tub. When she abruptly froze, Savannah eyed her with concern. Something was wrong.

“He did what?” Gabi asked, her tone hard and flat. After a good thirty seconds, she made an angry splash at the water with one of her feet. “He said that to Captain Kosarek? That son of a bitch. I swear, Max, next time I see him I’m going to kick those balls he’s so proud of up under his eyebrows.”

The woman talked tough, but Savannah didn’t miss the tears pooling in her eyes as she listened to her big brother’s side of the conversation, though she blinked them away before they fell.

Gabi sighed heavily then sat up straight. “No, don’t do that, Max. It doesn’t matter. Honestly. If my new boss won’t judge me for what I do rather than what someone else said I did, then I don’t need to be working for him anyway. Really.”

Savannah found the massage chair control and switched it on. Pressure against muscles stiff from bending over her workbench for too long felt wonderful. She slid her bare feet into the warm scented water swirling in the bowl. Lavender, Savannah recognized. Nice, but ordinary. Nothing like the heavenly scent for footbaths nestled in her tote.

“I love you, too, Max,” Gabi said, relaxing against her own chair. “Thanks for the heads-up, and don’t worry about me. I’m so done with letting that man dim my shine. So, have you heard anything from Mother?”

As Gabi’s conversation moved into family matters, Savannah turned her attention to the display of nail polish hanging on the wall and debated which color she should choose. Moments later, the woman next to her ended her phone call, saying to Savannah, “I apologize for subjecting you to my personal family business. I needed to take the call and I didn’t want to get up and track oily water across the floor for Erin to slip in when she returns.”

“Not a problem,” Savannah replied, offering a friendly smile that shifted to concerned when she spied a pair of big fat tears spill from Gabi Romano’s eyes. “Are you okay? Can I do something to help you?”

“Oh, just ignore me. I’m fine.” Gabi angrily swiped the tears off her cheeks. “Just an old boyfriend who won’t take no for an answer. My brothers are worried and acting watchdog for me.… You’re not wearing a ring. Are you married?”

“No.”

“Then let me give you a piece of advice. Never date a fireman or a cop.”

The laugh burst out of Savannah unintended. When Gabi drew back in surprise, she explained. “Like the saying goes, Been there, done that. Have the knife-through-my-heart scar to prove it.”

“Really.” Gabi’s smile warmed, and her blue eyes gleamed with friendly curiosity. “Do tell.”

In that moment, Gabi reminded Savannah of someone, though she couldn’t place just who. “You know, not to be cranky, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Not a problem. I understand.” Gabi dipped her right-hand fingers into the manicure bowl. “Ordinarily I’m discreet, too, but when I’m angry like this, everything spews out. It’s like I hear his name, so I want to vomit. Better to spew words than bile, I guess. My ex is bile. Vile bile. I think the worst part of it is that he had me totally snowed. I believed the lying bastard. Men don’t fool me. Not often. I grew up surrounded by jockstraps in a house full of brothers. I know men. I understand their tricks. With him …” She shook her head sadly. “I never saw it coming.”

“What did he do?”

“He destroyed me. He’s the lowest form of life on earth.”

We’re kindred spirits. I think I found a sister, Savannah thought. “And he’s a cop?”

“A firefighter. Swaggering slime.”

A teenager entered the room carrying a pitcher filled with ice. She smiled at Savannah. “Hi, Ms. Moore. I’m Erin Stewart. I’m glad to see that you decided to take Celeste up on her offer. She’s really sorry that she’s been delayed.”

“Not a problem.”

“Let me finish up with Gabi and I’ll get to you.” She filled two glasses with ice and lemon-flavored water and placed them on the table between the two women. To Gabi, she asked, “Have you chosen a color?”

“For my toes I want that orange color on the end.”

“A Good Mandarin Is Hard to Find.” Erin nodded. “That’s pretty.”

“And appropriate,” Gabi added, before Erin’s shoes caught her attention. “Oh my gosh. I want those shoes. Those are the cutest sandals I’ve ever seen. Where did you get them?”

Conversation turned to shopping, fashion, makeup, and hairstyles while Erin completed Gabi’s pedicure and started on Savannah’s. It was the most girly-girly half hour Savannah could recall, and she enjoyed herself immensely.

As Erin brushed a topcoat onto Savannah’s toes, Gabi said, “Erin, I’ve changed my mind about that manicure. Do you have time?”

The teen glanced at the clock. “I do for a simple manicure. My next appointment is due in fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect. A coat of clear will do me. As much as I love tangerine on my toes, I have to keep my hands looking professional. Especially since I am starting my new job tomorrow. Wouldn’t want my new boss to think I come across as flashy.”

Savannah suspected Gabi would be flashy no matter what. “Where will you be working, Gabi?”

“The sheriff’s office. I’m the newest deputy with the Eternity Springs Sheriff’s Department.”