Four Blind Mice

Chapter Fifty-Four

Sampson picked up a small bouquet of flowers and a bottle of red at Central Market in Bay Head. As he got to the beach house, he wondered if he was overdoing it. Flowers? Wine? What was going on here?

Was he feeling guilty about the fact that this woman's husband might have been murdered? Or that she was a widow before her time? Or did it have something to do with Ellis Cooper? Or was this just about Billie Houston and himself?

He went round to the screen door that led into the kitchen of the beach house. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the wooden frame.

“Hi? Billie?”he called out.

Billie? Was that how he should be talking to her?

He had no idea why, but he was concerned for her safety. Yet no one would want to hurt Billie Houston now, would they? Still, he felt what he felt. The real killers were out there somewhere. Why not here in New Jersey?

“Door's open. C'mon in,” she called. “I'm out on the porch.”

He came in through the kitchen and saw her setting a small dining table on the open front porch facing the ocean. Beautiful spot for dinner. Adirondack chairs, a wicker rocker painted navy blue to match the shutters.

He could see the ocean over the top of the dunes and the constantly waving sea grass.

But his eyes went back to her. She had on a crisp white shirt with faded Levi's, no shoes again. Her hair was clipped back in a ponytail. She'd put on a little lipstick, just a touch.

“Hi there. I thought that we'd eat out here. It's not too cold for you, is it?” she asked with a wink.

Sampson stepped out onto the spacious wood porch. The breeze was coming from inland, but it was comfortable outside. He could smell the ocean, but also sea lavender and asters in the air.

“It's just about perfect,” he said. That was true. The temperature was just right, as was the table she'd set, and the view of the ocean was definitely something else. There sure wasn't anything like this in Southeast DC.

“Let me do something to help, ”he said.

“Good idea. You can chop vegetables and finish up the salad. Or you can cook on the grill.”

Sampson found himself smiling. “Not much of a choice there. I'll do the salad. Nah, I'm kidding. I'd be happy to grill. Just so long as I don't have to wear a hat or apron with a snappy slogan on it,”

She laughed. “Don't have any of those. You passed a CD player on your way from the kitchen. I left a bunch of CDs out. Pick what you like.”

This a test?" he asked.

Billie laughed again. “No, you already passed all your tests. That's why I asked you to supper. Stop worrying about me and you. We won't break. This is going to be fun. Better than you think.”