by Terri Osburn
She’d only stopped a few times, for gas, bottles of water, and bathroom breaks. No one had looked twice at the unremarkable woman with her head down, using body language to make it clear idle chitchat was not welcome.
Will had been nervous that her time on Anchor had tarnished her skills at looking unapproachable, but she’d fallen into the old routine with little effort. Sitting there, waiting her turn to pull onto the ferry, Will had almost changed her mind. It wasn’t too late to go back, she’d thought. Randy would never have to know she’d almost left.
But the panic pushed her forward. He’d likely found the note by now, she thought. Maybe he’d crumpled it up and thrown it away. No, that wasn’t something he would do. Randy was more likely to read it several times, trying to figure out where she might have gone.
He couldn’t know, of course. Even if he’d found the note right away, once Will was off the ferry and out of sight, her whereabouts would be almost untraceable. Or so she hoped.
The waitress set a glass of water on a small napkin. “Your food will be up shortly. Anything else I can get you?”
“No, thank you,” Will said, peeling the wrapper from a straw.
“Well hey there, Miss Johnny,” said the waitress as a large woman ambled onto the stool two down from Will. The width of her hips was enough that she overlapped onto the stool between them.
Hanging a metal cane from the edge of the counter, the woman huffed as she settled her weight, a grunt of pain escaping her lips as she reached for her left knee.
“Evening, Livie,” her new neighbor said, pushing the wire-rimmed glasses up on her button nose. “Get me a cup of hot tea, would’ya?”
“Of course.” The waitress disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Will and the woman alone at the counter.
“Pretty night, isn’t it?” the older woman asked.
Will nodded as she sipped her water. If only she had something to read. That usually kept the talkers at bay.
“You get in today?” she asked, shaking three sugar packets as if she were going to pour them onto the counter. “Long trip?”
Great. A nosy local. Not what Will needed.
“Passing through,” Will said, opting to stare at the muted television hung over the open window between the front counter and the kitchen. A newscaster with Ken-doll hair was speaking into the camera. What he was reporting was anyone’s guess.
“Gerald made fresh apple pie this morning,” the waitress said, setting a small coffee cup and slice of pie on the counter. “Let me get the milk and some whipped cream for you.”
Livie was gone again and the smell of warm apple pie filled Will’s senses. What she wouldn’t give to be back at Opal’s right now, cutting into a slice of rhubarb pie and laughing with her friends.
“That girl is hell on my diet,” Miss Johnny muttered. Will assumed the statement was meant to be funny, since the woman was nearly as wide as she was tall. To be fair, Miss Johnny was likely only five feet tall, but still.
Returning her gaze to the flashing screen, Will saw the last thing she expected.
Hovering above the reporter’s right shoulder was the photo of herself, taken at Dempsey’s a few weeks before. This was seriously not her day.
CHAPTER 25
Will snatched a menu from between the ketchup and salt and pepper shakers. “You look like a regular. What would you recommend?” she asked, holding the menu out toward the other diner.
“Since you look like you could use something substantial, I’d suggest one of the seafood meals.” Miss Johnny stirred her tea and lifted her eyes to the TV.
“But which one?” Will asked, practically slapping the woman in the nose with the menu.
“It’s all good,” she said, ignoring the flapping menu. “Hold on a second, hon. I want to see this.”
Will followed the woman’s gaze to find the weather forecast covering the screen. The breath she’d been holding whooshed out of her lungs. That was entirely too freaking close.
And why the hell was her story being carried all the way down here? A missing woman from Boston shouldn’t be news in South Carolina. It wasn’t as if she were famous, though at this rate she would be.
“More sun,” Miss Johnny said. “Thank the heavens. I’ve had all the rain I can take for a while.” Looking over to Will, she said, “I don’t know where you’ve been lately, but we’ve had belly washers galore here for a couple weeks now.”
Livie reappeared with a can of whipped cream and, without asking permission, squeezed out a giant dollop on top of Miss Johnny’s pie. “Have you heard about that heiress lady?” she asked. Will held her silence.
“Makes you wonder,” Miss Johnny said, spreading the whipped cream to cover the corners of her pie. “Why would a girl set to inherit all that money disappear into thin air? Though I suppose she’s being flooded with reporters asking that same question by now.”
Livie crossed her arms. “No one’s found her yet, far as the news says. She was supposed to be up on Anchor, though why anyone would want to hide out there I do not know. Anyhow, they say if she was there, she isn’t anymore.”
Will resisted the urge to defend her little island home. Not that it would ever be her home again. Eyes down, she sipped her water and pretended to mind her own business. Then Livie’s question finally registered.
“Did you say heiress?” Will asked.
“You don’t know?” Livie replied. “It’s been all over the TV today.”
Will shook her head. “I’ve been driving since this morning.”
“Some young woman who disappeared from a Boston hospital a few years ago turned up on Anchor Island. It’s a remote little place up in the Outer Banks,” Miss Johnny said. “Turns out while she’s been missing, her grandmother died and left her everything. The girl is rich as that idiot with the crazy hair who likes to fire people on television, but no one knew where she was to tell her.”
“I’m sure she knows,” Livie said. “How could you not know? I think she’s running for love.”
“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,” Miss Johnny said, looking much more skeptical than the young waitress. “A grown woman wouldn’t give up all that money for a man. At least not for long.”
But she would give it up for a child. Will’s mother had. And her grandmother had left her everything? Maria, the gardener’s daughter? That had to be a mistake.
“Maybe Livie is on to something,” Will said, letting herself pretend the subject of this bizarre conversation was someone else. “You say she was supposed to be on some island but no one can find her?”
“That’s the latest. And even the people on the island are claiming they don’t know her. What’s the woman’s name?” Livie asked Miss Johnny.
“Maria Van something,” the older woman said. “But that’s not the name she was supposedly using on the island. Maybe they’re all protecting her.”
“Oh,” Livie exclaimed. “Maybe the guy she loves is on that island. Think he left with her?”
“No,” Will said, her voice nearly a whisper. “I mean, have they mentioned anyone else disappearing from that island? They’d have mentioned that on the news, right?”
The two locals looked at each other. “Not that I’ve heard,” Livie said. “How about you, Miss Johnny? Maybe I’ve missed something since my shift started.”
“I haven’t heard any mention of a man, at least not one being with her. I can tell you right now,” Miss Johnny said, tapping a finger on the counter. “A woman disappears because of a man, it’s not because he was good to her. I’d bet my knitting needles she’s running away from a man, not with one.”
The words were so frighteningly accurate, a chill ran down Will’s spine.
Livie pouted. “You’re no fun, Miss Johnny,” then abandoned them to wait on two bearded bikers who’d taken a seat at the far end of the counter.
An heiress. She’d never imagined. Will took a second to mourn the grandmother she never really knew. Nancy Van Clement had
been aloof, but she’d also taken her daughter back without a breath of hesitation. In her own way, Nancy loved Will’s mom, and maybe she’d loved her granddaughter as well.
Sadness mixed with the weight of exhaustion. Three years of running. Three years of fear and heightened senses. Of worry and anxiety and now she had one more thing Jeffrey had taken away from her—the chance to have known her grandmother. Something new and powerful took root in Will’s brain.
Maybe she had done enough running. Maybe Jeffrey had taken enough.
Maybe it was time to get her life back.
“I bet if she knew about the money, she’d go home,” Miss Johnny said before slipping a bite of pie between her lips. “If she doesn’t, she’s an idiot.”
“I think you’re right,” Will said, knowing exactly what the missing heiress would do next. “Could you tell Livie to cancel my order? There’s someplace I need to be.”
Will headed for the exit when Miss Johnny yelled, “Maria?”
Without thinking, Will stopped and turned, realizing too late what she’d done.
Miss Johnny smiled, eyes twinkling behind thick lenses. “Airport is down Highway 15. If you hurry, you can get a flight out tonight.”
I never meant to hurt you.
Those were the words Randy read over and over again while sitting on his back porch drinking a beer for the first time in nearly ten years. He didn’t feel like making the healthy choice tonight. His health didn’t mean much at the moment.
According to Sid, the phone had blown up at Dempsey’s the second he’d left. In fact, most of the businesses on the island had fielded calls from newspapers, magazines, and even major network news departments, all looking for the lost heiress, Maria Van Clement.
The name didn’t match up with the dark-haired gypsy Randy knew. The serious woman who could stop his heart with a smile. Who wore combat boots with dresses, slept in holey T-shirts, and drove a dented VW Bus.
No. Nothing about Willow Parsons read old-money heiress. At least the name thing explained why Lucas couldn’t find so much as a birth record on her. Their efforts to locate the doctor who’d treated Will when she’d lost the baby were clearly no longer necessary.
“Hello?” came a voice out of the darkness, somewhere to his left. “Are you back here?”
Randy glanced over. “I’m not in the mood for company,” he said.
“Joe told me you’d say that.” Without an invitation and ignoring his less-than-friendly brush-off, Beth climbed onto the porch and sat beside him on the glider. “Sid said Will left a note.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“Any mention of where she might have gone?”
A different shake of his head. “Nope.”
Beth sighed. They sat in silence for what felt like an hour but was probably less than a minute. Then she took his hand. “Will had to have a good reason for all this,” she said.
“Maria,” Randy said, his voice clipped. “Her name is Maria.”
“Doesn’t suit her, does it?” Beth said, staring into the darkness. “No, she’ll always be Willow to me.”
The pain in his chest swelled. “Yeah,” he said, hating the crack in his voice. “Me, too.”
Wrapping herself around his arm, Beth cuddled in tight against his side. “You can’t give up.”
It was Beth’s way to cling to the good. To believe the person they cared about hadn’t really left them with nothing more than a note. Hadn’t driven off without a good-bye or explanation. Not that the reason she left was a mystery, but Randy would never understand why she didn’t give them a chance to stand with her. To face her demons with the support of her Anchor family instead of running away again.
And they were a family. Something even he hadn’t realized until today. Not one person on the island was willing to talk to the press about Will. Instead, they’d all pulled together, feigning ignorance of the whole thing.
“She’s not coming back, Beth. I don’t think she ever intended to stay in the first place.”
That’s what hurt the most. He’d believed her when she said they could be together. Spend their todays making each other happy, facing whatever came side by side. She hadn’t meant a word of it, and he’d lapped it up like a starving dog.
Leaning her head on the back of the bench, Beth asked, “What is she running from? What’s so horrible about who she is? I can’t imagine anyone giving up the fortune they say is rightfully hers.”
Randy figured it didn’t matter now what he told anyone. Any debt of confidence became null and void when Will drove off the island.
“She’s running from a man. He beat her, then threatened to do worse if she told.”
Beth sat up. “Someone beat her? Oh my God, that’s horrible. That’s never mentioned in any of the news stories.”
After finishing the last of the beer, he said, “She never told anyone.” Randy looked down, picking at the label on the bottle. “Except me, I guess. I thought that meant something, but I was wrong.”
A small hand gripped his chin, forcing him to turn Beth’s way. “You listen to me, Randy Navarro. That woman loves you. She may not be making the best choices right now, but that doesn’t change anything. Don’t you dare give up on her.”
Removing the hand from his face, Randy placed a kiss on Beth’s knuckles, then tucked his best friend’s girl beneath his arm. “What was it we agreed to?” he said. “Never say never?”
Beth patted him on the chest. “That’s right. Never say never.”
But Randy knew. Will was never coming back to Anchor Island.
Sun glared off the giant wall of windows of the Boston Globe headquarters. Standing beside her luxury rental car, Will took a deep breath, steadying herself for the meeting to come. It was possible that Rebecca wouldn’t even be in, but doing this over the phone didn’t feel right. What Will had to say needed to be done face-to-face. Which made taking this chance necessary.
With shoulders back and head held high, Will marched up the dark, marble steps and through the main entrance of the building. At the front desk, she asked to see Rebecca King.
“Is she expecting you?” the security guard asked.
“No, but she’ll want to see me.”
He picked up the phone receiver. “Who should I say is here?”
Hoping the guard wouldn’t recognize the name, she said, “Will Parsons.”
The guard pressed four buttons on the phone, then relayed the message. He listened, nodded, then said, “I’ll tell her.”
Will held her breath.
“Ms. King will be right down. You can have a seat over there to wait.” After indicating a seating area to the left of his desk, the man returned his attention to the papers on his desk.
She breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t recognized her. Though to be fair, Will was no longer sporting long dark hair, nor did she look like the dazed and confused bartender included with the article in the Sunday paper.
As she waited, Will concentrated on the particles of dust floating in the beams of sunlight streaking through the windows surrounding the entrance. Everything hinged on this meeting. There was a Plan B, but it involved lawyers and going public with what Jeffrey had done to her. That was the messy plan.
Plan A was the cleaner, simpler option, at least for Will. But she needed Rebecca’s cooperation to make it work.
The elevator opened moments later, spewing the blonde reporter into the lobby as if she’d been catapulted out. Rebecca looked left and right, skipping over Will several times. The straight, shoulder-length red hair along with the large sunglasses were clearly working.
“Ms. King,” Will said, rising to her feet and gripping her purse strap like a lifeline. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”
Green eyes went round, then the reporter looked right and left again, as if expecting someone else to be in attendance. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she said, visibly nervous.
Good. Rebecca being nervous boded well for Plan A.<
br />
“Is there someplace we can talk?” Will asked. “In private?”
“Yeah. Right.” Rebecca tapped the up button for the elevator, and the women held a mutual if tense silence until they’d closed the door and taken a seat in a small conference room on the third floor. “So,” the blonde began. “What can I do for you?”
Will looked the reporter in the eye. “You’re going to undo the damage you did with your article.”
An empty, unsure laugh escaped Rebecca’s perfectly lined lips. “What I did was reveal your true identity, Maria. I don’t think forcing an heiress to step forward and admit her identity is all that damaging.”
Will remained calm. “Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason I was hiding? Some threat that would make a woman pretend to be someone else? Especially considering that claiming her true identity would make her a very wealthy woman?”
Though she hadn’t known about the inheritance before the story broke, Rebecca didn’t need to know that.
“A threat?” Glossy lips pinched into a straight line. “No, I hadn’t thought of that. Are you telling me that my revealing your identity puts you in danger?”
Instead of answering, Will held the woman’s gaze, letting the revelation sink in.
“I had no idea.” Rebecca shifted in her chair, openly uncomfortable now.
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Will opened her purse. “That’s why I’m going to give you the opportunity to fix the situation.” Withdrawing the documents she’d created the night before, Will laid the papers on the table and pushed them Rebecca’s way.
“What is this?” the reporter asked, refusing to take the offering. “Are you serving me with papers?”
As if a woman of Will’s means would serve her own papers.
“No. I’m giving you the opportunity to write another story. One that will advance your career much more than anything you could write about me.”
“What?” the woman asked, laying a finger on the edge of the papers. “Did you witness a crime or something?”
“Something like that.” Will zipped her purse shut. “What I have here will give you everything you need to expose Jeffrey Hillcrest as an embezzler with ties to organized crime. The catch is, you can’t ever reveal this information came from me.”
