Chapter 3

      When Hayley stirred awake in her bed, it was still pitch black outside. She checked the digital alarm clock on her nightstand. Ten minutes to four in the morning. She wasn’t sure what had awakened her, but she did know that whatever it was had interrupted a crazy dream she was having where she was lying in a hammock somewhere in the English countryside with Prince Harry, who was feeding her strawberries. She made a mental note not to share what she remembered about the dream to Bruce.

      Hayley grabbed her pillow and turned over in bed to try and fall back to sleep and pick up where she had left off with Prince Harry when she felt something scraping against her big toe, which was exposed outside the fluffy white goose-down comforter. She sat up and stared at a furry little thing perched at the foot of the bed. It was her dog, Leroy, who had been licking her toe.

      “What are you doing up, little man?” Hayley whispered, not wanting to wake up Bruce.

      Leroy’s tongue hung out of his mouth and he panted expectantly. He answered her with a discomfited whine.

      Hayley didn’t need a doggie translator to know what he was trying to say. She sighed. “I just took you out before bed.”

      Hayley reluctantly threw off the covers and crawled out of bed, pulling on some ratty gray sweats and sliding her feet into some furry slippers. Leroy excitedly jumped down onto the floor and scurried out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Hayley tiptoed across the room, but stopped suddenly when she noticed that there wasn’t a big lump where Bruce was supposed to be. His side of the bed was empty.

      Curious, Hayley stepped out into the hallway, wondering if Bruce had gotten out of bed to use the bathroom and that’s what had jolted her out of her Prince Harry dream. But the bathroom door was wide open and the light was off. She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen to meet Leroy at the back door, his tail wagging, anxious to get out into the yard in order to take care of his business.

      Hayley went to open the door when she suddenly noticed someone standing on the deck, his back to the house, looking up at the bright, shiny half moon. It was Bruce. She silently watched him for a few moments, utterly confusing Leroy, who was wondering why he wasn’t outside yet, and that’s when she saw puffs of smoke wafting into the night-light from the side of the house.

      She reached for the knob and yanked the door open. Leroy shot out, obviously in a code-red situation, and the sudden ruckus startled Bruce, who spun around, dropping a lit cigarette that had been wedged between two fingers. The butt hit the wooden porch, and Bruce hurriedly stomped it out before the burning ash started a fire.

      Hayley’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Bruce!”

      “I know, I know, please, Hayley, no lectures tonight.”

      “When did you start smoking again?”

      “I don’t know. Two, maybe three months ago. I don’t really remember exactly when I started.”

      “But you were doing so well. How long has it been?”

      “I quit cold turkey just about nine years ago.”

      “What happened?”

      Bruce shrugged. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and feeling a bit overwhelmed, and one day I was sitting in my office, and I had this craving I just couldn’t shake, so I got in my car and drove over to the Big Apple and bought a pack, and just started up again.”

      “Well, the only recent big change in your life has been marrying me . . . Oh God!” Hayley cried.

      Bruce chuckled. “It’s not you, Hayley.”

      “Then what?”

      “It’s Sal. He’s been riding me hard at work lately.”

      “Why?”

      Bruce absentmindedly pulled a half pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his sweatpants and reached for one, but then realizing Hayley was still watching, decided against lighting it and stuffed it back inside the pack.

      He looked up at Hayley gravely. “Circulation’s been down. The paper’s not doing as well as it should be. So Sal’s been putting the pressure on me to cover more stories.”

      “Well, there are only so many crimes in Bar Harbor you can write about.”

      “Exactly. He wants me to expand my coverage. To go outside the county, follow stories in Bangor, Waterville, Augusta, all the way down to Portland.”

      “I don’t understand. All of those places have their own newspapers.”

      “I know, but he wants me to be more competitive, make more of a name for myself. Funny thing is, down in Boston I was doing just that. But I didn’t like the constant stress and cutthroat competition of big-city reporting, which is a big reason why I moved back home and got a gig here at the local small-time paper.”

      “Bruce, why haven’t you told me this before?”

      “I didn’t want to stress you out too.”

      “You should have said something. And you don’t have to worry about me starting to smoke! I find it totally disgusting!”

      “Believe me, I’m aware of that fact. Look, we all handle our problems in different ways, which is why when you’re stressed you call Liddy and Mona to meet you at your brother’s bar to decompress with a cocktail.”

      Hayley couldn’t argue with him. He had a strong point. Everyone had their vices and so she decided to just blow past it. “So what are you going to do?”

      Bruce shook his head solemnly. “I have no idea. But there are only so many hours in the day, my workload has basically more than doubled, and I’ve been feeling the heat. Sal keeps hinting that if I can’t handle it, he’ll find somebody younger and hungrier who can.”

      “Sal