Still Waters by Debra Webb

night after work to render him unconscious by the time he goes to bed.”
    “We all have our own way of dealing with loss,” Sean spoke up. “As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
    Amber wondered what he had done to deal with the loss of his lover when Lacy James died. Had he struggled to sleep at night? Tried to drown his sorrows? Why was it she suddenly wanted to know all there was to know about him? Yes, he was the man tasked with her safety, but she suspected there was more to it than that.
    Mrs. McCorkle nodded her agreement with Sean’s understanding words. “I tell myself that every night.” She sighed. “Sometimes I feel like we’re muddling through some alternate reality. How can this be our lives?” She waved off the words. “Please, make yourselves at home. Would you like coffee or hot tea?”
    “No, thank you,” Amber said as she perched on the edge of the sofa. “Was Kimberly a hot tea drinker?”
    The lady shook her head. “That would be me. Kim loved her coffee in the morning, iced tea for lunch and dinner was a cold beer. She allowed herself one or two each night, the same as her father. He always warned that overindulgence was a bad thing. But that was before...”
    “I love the flavored teas,” Amber said, keeping her tone light. “Paradise Peach.”
    “I guess I’m a purist. Earl Grey for me.”
    “Green tea chai for me,” Sean tossed in. “Only I cheat—I buy the instant stuff.”
    The man drank hot tea? When he shot her another of those amused looks, Amber closed her gaping mouth. She would need to be careful around him. He kept her off balance, and he knew it.
    Time to get to the point of this meeting. “Mrs. McCorkle, I believe the man or men who hurt your daughter may have been targeting me, as well.”
    The woman’s eyes widened. “Has someone else gone missing?” Her hand went to her chest. “Mercy, I’ve prayed nonstop that he would be caught. I don’t understand why the police can’t find whoever did this. They were here this evening asking more questions, but they weren’t giving me any answers.”
    “I’m certain they’re doing all they can,” Amber assured her. “I’m wondering if your daughter and I had any hobbies, shopping habits or interests in common. May we talk for a few minutes about the things she liked to do?”
    Mrs. McCorkle’s eyes brightened, but the perpetual sadness created by the loss of her daughter lined her face. “She always loved building things as a child. It was no surprise when she decided to become an architect. She took great pride in her work.”
    “What about her hobbies?” Amber reached into her purse for a notepad.
    “She loved playing basketball,” Mrs. McCorkle said, her eyes growing distant. “She played in high school, you know. No matter that she was a foot or more shorter than the rest of the team—she was a force to be reckoned with when she got her hands on the ball.”
    “Was she dating anyone in particular?” Amber asked.
    Mrs. McCorkle shook her head. “She had a lot of friends and dates, but she didn’t date anyone regularly. Kimberly said she was in no hurry to get serious. She was busy building her career.”
    Amber’s instincts started to hum. “I can relate.”
    “Kimberly had big plans. She wanted to have her own firm one day. She was going to take care of me and her dad. She promised we’d never have to worry about anything.” Mrs. McCorkle’s lips trembled. “She sure saw to that. She carried a million-dollar life insurance policy. We had no idea until we saw the paperwork among her personal papers.”
    “Do you mind sharing the name of her insurance company?” Amber, too, carried a significant policy.The day before she’d started her job her father had insisted on a “business” talk. He’d urged her to be smart with her money from the beginning. Setting up a savings plan was at the top of his list. Insurance and investments were next. Six years later Amber was grateful for