Her stomach rumbled, and his own answered. “Was that my stomach or yours?”
“I didn’t hear a thing.”
He chuckled and pulled into the restaurant’s lot on Bon Secour Bay. The scent of fish and seawater greeted them when they got out, and a bold gull swooped down, almost landing in Paradise’s hair. Blake shooed it away and took her hand. Light jazz music wafted from the low-slung building. Inside he asked for a table out on the deck. If they were going to have a romantic dinner, they might as well do it up right.
The server led them to a table at the end of the deck that overlooked the water and several pelicans watching for fish. The moonlight glimmered on the waves gently washing against the shore. Gulls hopped along the boards looking for scraps, and he pushed one away with his foot. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.”
She took his hand. “Mine, mine,” she chanted, imitating thegulls inFinding Nemo. “I can learn a lot from them.” She laced her fingers with his. “The odds seem overwhelming to me, but I can face anything as long as we’re together.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Even Bertha couldn’t drag me from your side. You’re stuck with me.”
She smiled at the reference to their hippo. “We found out who was behind the attacks last time. We can do it again.” She released his hand and scooted her chair back. “I think I’ll wash my hands. They smell like old yearbook. I’ll be right back.”
He watched her enter the restaurant and head for the restroom. What a lucky man he was.
Paradise washed her hands in the restaurant bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Dark circles lurked under her eyes, and her hair was a windblown mess. With no comb, she’d have to make do, so she smoothed it with her fingers. She pinched some color into her cheeks and went to grab a couple of squares of toilet paper from the stall to wipe the mascara smears from under her eyes.
As she was bending over, the metal stall door slammed behind her and she whirled. She pushed on the door, but it didn’t budge. “Hey, it’s occupied.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” The low, guttural voice sounded like a man’s. “If you want to live, you need to leave and never come back.”
Her hand fell back to her side and she backed away from the door. If only she had her phone or some kind of weapon. She stooped to look at the person’s shoes. Her tormentor wore jeans and sneakers, about a nine or a ten, so it could be a man or woman.
She straightened and shoved at the door. “This is my home. I grew up here.”
“And you’ll die here if you don’t listen and quit poking around. Go back to where you came from and forget about this place. ‘No one ever sees the Angel; but he is heard by those who are meant to hear him.’”
Paradise gasped when she recognized the line fromThe Phantom of the Opera. The gap between the door and the frame opened half an inch, and steps went quickly away.
Paradise pushed open the stall door, but she was too late to see more than a glimpse of blue as the door to the bathroom closed. She rushed out of the stall and threw open the exit into the hall.
No one was there.
She stepped into the restaurant and looked around for that shade of blue she’d glimpsed. It was not quite royal and not quite navy, but no one wore that unique shade. Maybe she hadn’t seen it clearly enough.
Shaking now that it was over, she headed back to the deck. The night breeze cooled her overheated cheeks when she stepped outside.
Blake’s welcoming smile vanished. “What’s wrong?”
Her legs felt wobbly and rubbery beneath her, and she sank onto the chair. “There was a welcome committee of one in the bathroom.” She told him about being trapped in the stall and the warning that had been issued. “I checked the restaurant but didn’t see the color of top they wore.”
“Call Jane. I’m going to see if there’s anyone matching that description in the parking lot.” He leaped to his feet and rushed for the side of the restaurant.
Paradise called Jane and left a message on her voice mail. Bythe time Blake returned, she was beginning to feel less vulnerable and shaky.
He dropped into his chair and took her hand. “No one was out there. Clearly this is someone who knew you from when you were a teenager. This has to be connected to the murders.”
She took comfort from his warm fingers. The shivers didn’t seem to want to leave her. “There’s one other thing it could be related to.”
He searched her face and realization dawned in his eyes. “The search for your brother. Everything ramped up with that. As soon as you sent off that DNA, things started happening.”
“But it makes no sense. When I find him he can tell me whether or not he’s interested in meeting me. Where’s the danger in that?”
“We don’t know what we don’t know. I think you’re onto something though. Someone doesn’t want him found. It might not even be Andrew who is trying to discourage your search.”
A thought found its way to her tongue. “What if Andrew is dead and someone doesn’t want me to know? What if whoever killed my parents killed him too?” She rubbed her head. “That’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“But he was adopted. Your mom got letters from his adoptive parents.” A frown settled between his blue eyes. “I think the priority should be on finding Andrew. That feels right. We can work on your parents’ murders once he’s found.”
