by Cara Putman
What now, God?
Could she walk away from Jonathan and Mackinac?
As she considered the idea, she knew it wasn’t possible. She still had to fight for Trevor so she could end the lies her family lived. And she had to untangle the allegations between Mr. Tomkin and Mr. Hoffmeister.
Then she’d leave.
Jaclyn hadn’t smiled when she entered the restaurant and found Dylan on his lap. Still, Jonathan didn’t apologize. It wasn’t his fault the boy adored him. Frankly, it felt good to have the little man
chattering on his lap, filling him in on a disjointed account of his day.
“Then I caught a frog.” He spread his hands. “He was this big.”
“Impressive.”
“I know! Hi, Mommy.”
Jaclyn smiled at her boy, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey, Dylan. Are you bothering Jonathan?”
“You know he’s not a bother.”
“I don’t know anything right now.” Dark circles undergirded her eyes. Had he caused her lack of sleep? “Dylan, we need to go home.”
Dylan stuck out his lip and wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s neck. Jonathan swallowed but slowly extricated himself from Dylan’s grip. “You’ve got to obey your mom, Dylan.”
“I want to stay with you.” The lip extended even farther.
“Not today.” Jonathan glanced at Jaclyn. “You okay?”
“Always am.” Her jaw firmed, and she studied him. “We’ll be okay regardless of what you decide. Don’t take too long. I won’t wait forever.” She tugged Dylan free. “Time to go, bud. We’ll go walk around the fort again.”
Jonathan watched them leave. Earlier this afternoon he’d been absolutely certain that Alanna was the one he wanted. Then Dylan came back.
He couldn’t fall in love with a two-year-old. There had to be a connection, a love for Jaclyn, or it wouldn’t work. Loving one without the other wasn’t fair to Jaclyn. He had to tell her. But as Jaclyn walked outside, Dylan looking behind, he didn’t know how to change things.
Somehow he had to find an honorable way to let Jaclyn know where his heart lay. And then he had to tell Alanna.
He might as well walk by the office and grab a file before heading home. As he walked by I’m Not Sharing, the fudge shop remained cloaked in darkness. Someday it would reopen, but right now it was a shell. Mr. Hoffmeister had been the lifeblood of the store, especially after Ginger had decided to stop working there. Jonathan wondered if he had any succession plan or if the business would eventually peter out and close.
Too bad he didn’t want a fudge shop. b Jonathan raced upstairs, grabbed the file, and headed back down. When he passed the foundation, Gerald strode out. “Covington.”
“Hello, Gerald.”
“Heard there was excitement up at the Hoffmeister place.”
“You could say that.”
“Now that he’s gone, I’ll get to build my house without all his noise. It’s amazing how much he gummed everything up.”
Jonathan picked up his pace, and Tomkin kept up. “It was his property.”
“Not after he sold it to me. If he didn’t want it changed, he shouldn’t have subdivided. His rigid thoughts constricted any creativity.” Gerald shrugged. “At least now I can do what I want within those silly Victorian restrictions. Can’t say I’m fond of people telling me what to do. Any thoughts on the festival?”
“Been working on a couple other projects, but I’ll have something to you soon.”
“Good.” Gerald slapped him on the back. “See you later.”
“One question.”
Gerald paused with a slight frown. “Yes.”
“Have the police talked to you about Hoffmeister?”
“Of course. Especially with our dispute. Glad I had a solid alibi. After they confirmed it, they said I’m clear.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yes.” Gerald cleared his throat. “We may not have been the best of friends these last couple years, but we’d known each other a long time. There was a reason I bought that lot close to him. Thought it would be nice to be closer to a friend. Wish I’d known what a bad decision that would turn out to be. Well, see you later.” He nodded at Jonathan and then strode down the sidewalk.
Jonathan watched a moment then continued toward home. Sad how a dispute over a house had effectively ended a time-tested friendship. By the time he reached his section of the woods, dusk had fallen and he was glad he hadn’t waited longer.
As soon as he entered his cottage, he headed for the sink. The glass of water tasted great as it slid down his throat. Something caught his attention outside on the dock. He pressed his face against the window trying to see through the darkening sky.
The shape was too big to be a small animal or bird, and it wasn’t moving.
Jonathan threw the plastic glass in the sink, where it bounced as he hurried toward the dock.
31
The shape didn’t move. With only a few steps to go, the shape turned into a person, and he slowed down. Alanna?
His pulse spiked, from racing or concern he didn’t know. Still he stopped. If she were asleep, he didn’t want to surprise her, but if she was in trouble, he couldn’t wait to see if she’d move on her own. “Alanna?” He slid down next to her.
Her cheek lay slack against her arm, and peace cloaked her face maybe for the first time since she returned to the island. Her chest rose on a breath, and he backed off. He could imagine the flush of color she’d hide in the darkness if she woke up to his hovering.
He sank back against the base of the dock and watched her. What would have chased her outside to fall asleep?
No one had returned to her house since they’d found the rabbit in the trap. That appeared to be a one-time, dead-end event unless she’d found something today. If she had, he doubted she’d stay in the open.
Prayers lifted as he watched. He prayed for wisdom to know how to proceed. Creativity to satisfy his clients. Clear direction to know his heart. Alanna longed for the truth to illuminate her past. He wanted the truth to display his future. The present felt fine, but he wanted more. He longed to feel the way he did when Alanna stared at him with the eyes that said he could do anything. There hadn’t been many people in his life that made him feel invincible like that.
As her form shifted deeper into the shadows, he knew that’s what he wanted. To become the man who could protect those dear to him. The man who could bring the smile back to her face and coax it out frequently. Ideas formed as he watched and waited. He tried to remember the details as his mind filled with ways to sort through the art problems.
He might not be an investigator, but he knew events. That night ideas for an event unlike anything Mackinac Island had seen played through his mind. He tweaked the guest list here, added art there, and by the time Alanna began to stir, Jonathan had the outlines in place. Now he just needed his phone, e-mail, and computer.
Alanna groaned. She pushed up, her head hanging, then slowly glanced around. “Jonathan?”
“Sleepyhead.”
She snorted, an unladylike sound he loved. “Help me up. I’ve fallen asleep in places I didn’t know I could.”
He eased her up, and she sagged against him. She felt so right next to him. How could he convince her he wanted to come alongside her and support her the rest of her life?
His earlier plea for direction seemed answered in a crystal-clear moment. His heart hadn’t played tricks on him. It knew exactly what it wanted: the woman next to him rather than the one across the island.
Their shoulders brushed, and Alanna fought to clear her mind. Jonathan had that effect on her, and she wished she could wash it away. Join the chorus line in South Pacific and wash this man right out of her hair. He had a perfectly lovely young woman already with an adorable son who worshipped Jonathan. Alanna had to get out of the way. And the only way to do that was to leave.
She was right back where she’d started. Somehow she had to clear her brother so he
could take his place at the Painted Stone. He’s the one who should sit there day in and day out. He could paint in the back or even in the showroom, live in the empty apartment if he wanted independence. Then sell the art he’d created. Lies replaced by transparency.
Trevor didn’t have a career waiting on the mainland. Still, the thought of her law practice and her apartment didn’t bring Alanna joy. She wasn’t sure she wanted to leave. But she had to. Staying would hurt too much.
“Where’d you go?”
“Home.” She felt her lips curve, a soft, resigned acknowledgment. It would hurt too much to stay on Mackinac—after rediscovering Jonathan only to find him taken. She needed to refocus, take control, and get back home where she belonged.
“Sure you’re all right?” If the light were better, Alanna knew she’d see a row of questions in his eyes, followed by the little stutter- step he made whenever he couldn’t stay put.
“Just help me get inside. I’ve still got a lot to do tonight.”
Ten minutes later, she sat at the dining room table, the foundation’s ledgers strewn around her. “The answer is in those boxes from Hoffmeister’s house.”
“Why do you say that?” Jonathan sat across the table, arms crossed on his chest as he watched her.
“If something funny started happening while he was the president, it might have taken him awhile to notice. But he would have eventually. I bet he’d take it on himself to find the answer because he would feel responsible. Happened on his watch kind of thing. On an island this small, you have to keep things close to make sure the word doesn’t spread.”
“Let me make a call.” Jonathan stepped to the other room, and she heard a muffled conversation as she continued to stare at the pages. When Jonathan returned, he handed her a piece of paper. “Okay, here’s the list of people who served on the board during Hoffmeister’s tenure. And Gerald said Brendan was the bookkeeper with assistance from the foundation’s secretary.”
“Really?” Alanna rubbed her cheeks. “He hated math. Why would anyone trust him with books?”
“Not liking a subject isn’t the same as being bad at it.”
“True. But Brendan always sat next to Grady in math class so he could copy answers. Grady was headed to Purdue on an engineering scholarship. He might have loved basketball, but his real ticket away was his brain. Brendan. . .not so much.”
Jonathan shrugged. “Just relaying what I was told.”
“Someone had to help him. Or if he was pretty much allowed to do what he wanted, it would explain how everything got messed up, if not where the money went.” Alanna tapped the pencil against her teeth. “Guess I need to find him and ask him about that.”
“Do you want me to handle that?”
Alanna laughed as she chucked her pencil at him. “You’re the numbers guy.”
“Only marginally more than you.” He tapped a cover. “I’d be happy to probe though.”
“Thanks. I’ll touch base with Laura at the foundation. See if she remembers anything.” Alanna glanced at her watch. “I’ll try her now.” After digging up the woman’s number, Alanna waited while the phone rang and Laura answered. “Hi, Laura. This is Alanna Stone. Do you have a couple minutes?”
“Sure. Just reading a novel before bed.”
“I promise this will be quick. Was Brendan the bookkeeper for the foundation a couple years ago?”
“Sure. He only stopped when his dad became president.”
That was odd. What happened to fathers giving their sons more work? “Did he handle the job well?”
“As well as could be expected. Id glance at the books every once in a while, but he didn’t need me. Why all the questions?”
“Just thinking about something Gerald said. Thanks for your time.”
Jonathan had cleared the table and stood when she ended. “Anything?”
“Nothing other than the fact she didn’t provide oversight. If he’d wanted to, Brendan could do just about anything to the books.”
“Still doesn’t explain why he would if he did.”
“True.” Alanna stood. “Thanks for your help.”
“Happy to do it. I’ll let you know if I learn anything from Brendan.”
“Don’t you love the drama I’ve dragged you into?”
“Absolutely. My life has been a lot more interesting since you returned.” He leaned toward her, and she couldn’t have backed away if she’d wanted. All her grand ideas evaporated in a moment. There’d never been another man for her. Not in all this time.
If only he cared for her. Something deeper, more real than the tension they generated without effort. She wanted someone who knew her heart, her fears, her qualms—and loved her anyway. Who chose her in spite of the hang-ups and baggage she brought to the party.
His gaze traveled from her eyes, slid down her nose, and then landed on her lips. She clung to the table, grateful for the hard barrier keeping them apart, because she knew if he slipped around the table, she wouldn’t be able to push him away. She didn’t want to, not anymore.
She closed her eyes, brought Jaclyn’s image to mind, and then pasted on a smile.
She had to get Trevor up here now.
Tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough. Yesterday would have been better. But it was time for her to escape.
One moment he could practically read Alanna’s thoughts. The next she might as well have shipped to the Amazon. The woman could disappear without moving, and the reality left him desperate.
He couldn’t convince her he loved her if she constantly pushed him away. Left.
This time he wouldn’t let her leave. He’d follow her to the jungle to prove he loved her.
Alanna tapped the ledger. His gaze bounced toward it, and he started.
“You’ll call Brendan?”
He cracked a smile. “Already promised.”
“You won’t forget?” Alanna ran her fingers through her hair, leaving it all disorganized. “Do you think Gerald could be behind Mr. Hoffmeister’s death?”
“He said the police have already cleared him.”
“You didn’t think you should mention that?”
“Guess I forgot. You’ll unravel everything. From Grady’s death to the books to Mr. Hoffmeister’s murder. You and I both know it all ties together.”
“The last time we tried to do something, some guy blows me over. So much for Mackinac Island being a place that slows down.”
“I bet you’re not bored.”
His words seemed to shock her. She stared at him then laughed. And kept laughing. To the point he wondered if the hysteria would stop. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and he sat watching. This was when he needed that guide, the one that explained why women behaved in such bizarre ways. The one his dad never handed down.
“Alanna. . .”
She held up a hand then left. A minute later he heard clunking in the kitchen, and soon she returned with glasses of water. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He studied her as he took a sip. “You all right?”
“Sure.” Sadness swept over her face only to be brushed aside as she sat, and he followed suit. “I’ll be back in Grand Rapids in no time. The partners expect a call tomorrow. I’ll get Patience to fill in until Mom returns. Then it’s back to the grindstone.”
“You can’t leave the island.”
She looked at him then waved. “The police won’t mind.”
“Really? And if they don’t, you’re running away? Again?” He wanted to recapture the words as soon as they escaped.
“Yes. Yes I am. That’s what I do, after all. When the going gets tough, Alanna Stone is ready to leave.” She guzzled the rest of her water. “Besides, you have Jaclyn and Dylan. You don’t need me around, distracting you from your work and love.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry. Your event will be lovely.” She lurched to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.” She clutched the ledgers as she moved toward the stairs.
“Good night.”
She swept away, leaving him in the dining room.
Jonathan gathered the glasses and put them in the kitchen sink. After turning out the lights, he locked the door behind him and hurried to his cabin. Once in the living room, he fired up his laptop. Time to flesh out the plan that had dropped in his mind. Alanna could wade through those ledgers again if she wanted, but there was nothing there other than evidence of embezzling. He had more productive trails to follow.
As soon as his e-mail loaded, he clicked through the messages, sorting them by event and client. Edward Morris’s question about the gift for Bonnie gave him pause. Rachelle hadn’t called him back. Now was the perfect time to push her for an answer. And while they were talking, he’d see if he couldn’t extract a few more answers at the same time.
Alanna might not get the full truth from her mom, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t.
32
The alarm blared for what felt like hours before Alanna bopped it off. One glance at the time told her the hours hadn’t been so long after all.
She rubbed her eyes. It felt like a truck had hit her overnight— impossible considering she was on the island, but she wouldn’t be surprised to reach the bathroom mirror and find tire tracks across her face. Somewhere she had to find some energy. Time was running out. When she talked to the managing partner that morning, he’d want specifics she couldn’t give.
Alanna got ready as quickly as possible then headed toward the Painted Stone. She didn’t have any guarantees Patience Matthews would accept the job, so she’d have to craft the best package possible. Maybe commission, maybe hourly. She only prayed Patience would agree this sounded like the perfect way to spend the summer. If not. . .well, she’d have to cooperate.
When she arrived at the studio and turned on the computer, a resume sat in her e-mail. As Alanna scanned it, she decided this woman with her art degree might fit well at a studio. She fired an e-mail back, setting up a time for a phone interview. Maybe she wouldn’t need Patience after all.
