Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

booth. Men could be real shits. But she had other people she needed to worry about.
     
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    “Are you expecting him to come back to finish the job?” she asked.
    “Because now that school’s out, Nick is around a lot. I won’t do anything that puts him in danger.”
     
    “I wouldn’t ask you to,” Caleb assured her. “I’m just working a hunch.”
     
    “A hunch.” Regina glanced at Maggie. The woman had abandoned the forms in front of her and was coaxing Hercules from his customary perch in the front window. The cat, who normally disdained the restaurant’s patrons, stretched out his neck to sniff her fingers. Regina considered that a point in Maggie’s favor. “What does she think about this hunch of yours?”
     
    “We haven’t discussed it.”
     
    “Why not?”
     
    “She says she doesn’t remember the attack.”
     
    Was it Regina’s imagination, or had he put the slightest emphasis on says?
     
    “Do you believe her?”
     
    “I believe,” Caleb said deliberately, “she may not want to remember.”
     
    “Because she’s protecting somebody,” Regina guessed.
     
    His expression was sober. “Or running away from something.
     
    “Congratulations.” Caleb eased down onto the bench opposite Margred, stretching his leg with a relieved sigh. “You have a job.”
     
    “Money,” she said with satisfaction.
     
    “Not until you actually start working, but yeah, that’s the idea.”
     
    “When do I start?”
     
    “Regina wants you on the lunch shift, maybe build your hours from there. I’ll drop you off tomorrow on my way to work.”
     
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    “Tomorrow,” she repeated.
     
    “Yeah. Tonight”—he took a breath, surprised by the jitter of nerves in his stomach—“I thought you could stay with me.”
     
    “In your bed.”
     
    His words on the beach lingered between them: The next time I make love to you, it will be on a bed. And I’m taking off my pants .
     
    “Unless that’s a problem for you,” he said carefully.
     
    “Why would it be a problem?”
     
    He was a good cop, but he couldn’t read her face, her voice. Was she amused? Or pissed at him?
     
    “I want you to stay with me. But you’re not obliged . . .” He stopped and tried again. “You don’t owe me anything.”
     
    “You are in your head again,” she observed.
     
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
     
    “You are worried if I stay with you, I will have sex with you out of a feeling of obligation. That I will be dependent on you and resent you for it.”
     
    He’d gone almost thirty-six hours without sleep. He didn’t have the energy—or the wits—for man-woman games. “Something like that.”
     
    Margred snapped her fingers, and the big cat, Hercules, strolled over to investigate. “You see this cat?”
     
    “Yeah. So?”
     
    “The people here feed it, do they not?”
     
    “When Antonia’s not looking.”
     
    “They let it come inside.” Margred scratched the cat’s chin. Purring, the feline rubbed against her fingers. “It suffers me to touch it, to pet it.
     
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    But they do not own the cat.” Her gaze met his. “Any more than you would own me if I choose to stay with you.”
     
    He rubbed his face with his hand. “That means you’re sleeping with me, right?”
     
    Her full lips curved. “Oh, yes.”
     
    “Fine.” He was suddenly less tired. “Let’s get something to eat and go home.”
     
    After they left Antonia’s, however, he took her to buy the basics: Tshirts, toiletries, and shoes. The island shops didn’t carry a wide selection of women’s clothing, but on the racks of resort wear at Lighthouse Gifts, they found a flowing skirt and a pair of drawstring pants to get Maggie through the next few days.
     
    Caleb carried their purchases to the cash register.
     
    Jane Ivey rang them up, her brown perm practically quivering in excitement. She’d had the same tight brown curls—and maybe the same sweater—twenty years ago, when Caleb used to stop in her shop on his way home after school. This was what he’d come home for. This sense of continuity. Of community. Of connection.
     
    “Terrible thing last night, Chief,” she greeted him.
     
    “Caleb, please.”
     
    “I don’t know what’s going to happen to business if people don’t feel safe vacationing here.”
     
    He tried to reassure her. “I don’t think you need to worry just yet.”
     
    “Most folks come to World’s End to get away from all