Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

my head? At night things always seem gloomier and more dramatic than they do in the clear light of morning. At one a.m. I gave up trying to sleep. I got up and took my cell phone off the charger and dialed Nick's cell phone number. But all I got for my effort was his voice mail and I suspected he had his phone turned off so he could sleep.
    As I should be doing, I told myself. But the thought of going back to bed to those twisted sheets and tossing and turning in them was just too appalling. I unlatched the sliding glass door and slid it open. The air felt and smelled wet and salty. I loved hearing the soft whoosh of the breakers. If I could sleep out here, the ocean's song would put me to sleep faster than any lullaby. But it would simply be unsafe and foolish to sleep out on an open deck.
    If only Nick were here with me, then the bed would be heaven, not hell. I stretched out in a lounge chair on the deck and thought serious thoughts, the kind that plagues you only at night. Jon was right. This was not the way marriage should be. This was not how I had envisioned my marriage. I had married a police officer with my eyes wide open, yes, and I had been willing to be patient with Nick when he was working a difficult homicide or putting in double shifts. But this Homeland Security liaison position was far more demanding, a situation I had not bargained for. And if Nick was no longer working for Wilmington PD, then who was he working for? When he did return home, I planned to have a serious talk with him about us, our marriage, and our future.
    I remembered how Jon had almost kissed me on Sunday night. And how I'd almost let him. Jon and I were compatible; we had so much in common. There were times when we seemed to read each other's minds. If I were married to him, I would not be suffering this way. We'd have an idyllic life together, working on exciting restoration projects every day, making a home together -- Jon was as interested in the domestic arts as I was -- Nick couldn't care less what a room looked like. One thing was sure, I wouldn't be sleeping alone.
    Out on the beach an insomniac like myself was strolling in my direction. He, or she, disappeared from view behind a dune. I got up and went back inside, securing the glass door behind me. Unable to face that disheveled bed again I stretched out on the sofa. I plumped up the cushions, arranged them under my head and shoulders, and pulled the chenille throw over me.
    I had just drifted into the first stages of sleep when something woke me. Light. A shaft of light from behind me. Had someone opened my sitting room door from the hall?
    I lay still and listened. Someone was walking stealthily behind the sofa where I was hidden from view. Should I jump up and confront whoever it was? Turn on the light? Chase him out?
    But what if he was dangerous? Not a member of our household but an intruder? A burglar? Might he not attack me?
    I ruled out Melanie; she would not be sneaking around the house. She would have snapped on the lights and called my name. I pressed myself down into the cushions and listened.
    Someone crossed the room and went into the bedroom. I saw a faint flashlight beam moving around the bedroom and heard objects being moved, drawers being pulled open. A robber?
    As I was wondering if I should slip off the sofa and crawl to the hall door and escape, the door to the hall opened and a second person came in. Two burglars?
    The second person tiptoed past the sofa where I drew myself into a tight ball. The back of the sofa concealed me, and the white of the chenille throw blended in with the white upholstery. The second intruder crept into the bedroom.
    Someone gasped and yelped. Then I heard a thud and sounds of a scuffle. What in the world was going on? I dared not move. I scarcely breathed. But my ears were straining to hear every sound.
    Then one of them ran past the sofa, threw open the door, and raced down the hall. His footsteps were muffled by the thick carpeting, but I felt sure I heard him leave the house by the lower deck.
    Another person went flying through the sitting room and out into the hallway. Slowly I got up and tiptoed to the doorway. A lamp on a console table gave off a little light. They were gone. I closed the door firmly and pushed the button lock.
    Silently I moved to the glass door to the deck. I unlatched it and dragged it open a foot and stepped out. Ducking down, I sidled over to the railing.
    Two figures were running on the