Page 94 of Life, Love and the Pursuit of Happiness

“I was upset. I needed some space to think before confronting you about it.” Maybe confront isn’t the right word. Too late now. “Give me a break, sweetheart. I was in shock.” I still am.

She searched around for the keys, which were in his pocket. She wouldn’t look at him, and he knew why. Well, one reason why. Tears were brimming in her eyes, and she wouldn’t want him to see.

He took the keys out and handed them to her. Still not looking at him, she fumbled, trying to fit the key in the ignition.

“Delilah, I know there must be an explanation. I want to know what happened to you. You wouldn’t commit murder or be willingly involved in a murder.”

“How do you know that?”

Because I love you. Love knows. But he didn’t say that. Instead, he repeated, “We’re both hurt here, Delilah. We can work it out.”

The tears were streaming down her face when she finally looked directly at him. “One day too late. Leave . . . me . . . alone!”

She roared off.

Merrill would have liked to follow after Delilah immediately, but he was waylaid by three news trucks pulling into the parking lot in tandem, as if they were in a race.

Holy shit! It was a shipwreck discovery, not an alien landing or some monumental hurricane disaster.

Just then, the NBX-TV satellite van skidded onto the gravel lot, too, and Merrill thought about dragging Sam and Annie out and beating the crap out of them. Those two nitwits were the ones responsible for this mayhem.

But he took a deep breath and stood his ground. He noticed that his rifle squad had come out to stand behind him.

“Okay, folks,” he addressed the newspeople and cameras. “Unless you have business with Bell Forge, this is, from now on, considered private property. No Trespassing signs are about to be posted, and you will be arrested. Or . . .” He glanced back at the three old codgers behind him. “My security detail will be given orders to shoot, and I understand they are crack shots.”

The three guys were surprised at his words, but they straightened with pride and made sure everyone saw their rifles.

“You can’t do this,” Annie Fox yelled. “It’s illegal.”

“Do I look like I care, Ms. Fox?”

“We just want a story,” a woman with a Newsweek logo on her shirt said.

“I understand that, and we’ll give you all the details you want at the press conference tomorrow at Chimes, the home owned by one of my partners, Gabriel Conti, who also happens to be the owner of Bell Forge. If you want a story in the meantime, how about discovering the interesting history of this town, which was by founded by the Conti family, who’ve made some of the most famous bells in the world?”

That piqued their interest, or at least diverted their attention. Of course, Gabe would not be a happy camper.

Something occurred to Merrill then. Sure as gossip moved at the speed of sound, word would already be spreading of Delilah’s notorious past. If the news media got wind that one of his crew members was a felon, they would be running in that direction. Even though it had nothing to do with their discovery, the press was always looking for a “color” angle. He didn’t care what they said about him, but he would like to protect Delilah from that kind of crap if he could.

If he had a choice, he would have gone after Delilah right away, but there were things he needed to do with Harry first. And then another alarming thought occurred to Merrill as he recalled the flicker of fear in her eyes when she found out that her parole officer had been here. Would the fact that Delilah hadn’t reported her felony to her employer jeopardize her parole? Could she be sent back to prison?

Oh, my God!

This is a freakin’ nightmare.

So, the first thing he did when he got back to his office was pull a business card out of his wallet. He punched the number into his cell phone, and then said, when a woman answered, “Ms. Gardner?”

“Yes.”

“This is Merrill Good, owner of the Bell Cove Treasure and Salvaging Company. I understand you spoke with my business manager, Harry Carder, last week. He might have mistakenly given the impression that Ms. Delilah Jones had not informed us of her felony conviction. That is not true. Ms. Jones gave me all the details before she was hired.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Why would I say so if I were not?”

“Why now?”

“I’ve been out of town for the past ten days and had no info on your visit until yesterday.”