Oh no, she did not play the homeless card.
But the truth stared him in the face—defiantly so. No money meant she was staying.
“Can you call a friend? Family?” he asked.
“There’s no one,” she said sharply.
Leo ran his fingers through his hair as the tendons in his neck tightened. This was getting better by the minute. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bert waving his arms, attempting to gain his attention. When he didn’t grace the store manager with his full attention, Bert started toward them. He arrived just in time to see Harold take his wallet from his back pant’s pocket.
“No solicitation!” Bert barked.
“I’m not buying. Just offering a loan to a friend,” Harold stated, setting a wad of twenties on the table.
Shock registered across the woman’s face, and then her features relaxed and she handed the bulging bag she held to him. “Don’t forget your Christmas gifts.”
“No solicitation. Officer Caan, I expect you to do your job,” Bert demanded.
The hair on the back of Leo’s neck stood on ends. “Excuse me?” His deeper-than-normal timbre must have expressed his displeasure, because the store manager took a step backward, putting distance between them.
“I mean—”
“Her vehicle be broken down,” Harold broke in. “She be high and dry. Give the lassie a break.”
“Not my problem,” Bert snarled.
“It’s Christmas,” Harold insisted, receiving support from several of the onlookers.
Yet judging by Bert’s silence and inert stance, the man had made up his mind.
“Why you crusty ol’ barnacle.” Harold trembled with anger. “Where’s your heart?” When Bert didn’t respond, Harold blurted, “Ta ’ell with you.” A spark crackled and broke free from the fire in the oven, but it didn’t burn as hot as Harold. His brogue deepened as he ripped off the next few words in Gaelic. It didn’t take a translator to know that the store manager’s character had been censured severely.
But Leo had more concern for the elderly man, whose face grew beet-red as his chest heaved with each breath. Harold’s health hadn’t been the best of late according to Brody. The last thing Leo wanted was to call the sheriff with bad news regarding his grandfather-in-law.
“Everyone calm down,” he said. “I’ll call for a tow.”
“But I don’t have anywhere to go.” She spoke so softly Leo barely heard her add, “or money.”
“Don’t you be worrying,” Harold spoke to her, but his sight was pinned on Bert. “You can come home with me.”
Leo felt his eyes widen to match the woman’s. What on earth had gotten into Harold? Not only was she a stranger, but she was…strange. His granddaughter would flip, as well as her husband—the sheriff.
He was about to suggest the bed and breakfast on the other side of town when Bert blurted, “Fine with me as long as she’s gone from here.” The smugness on his face made Leo wanted to reach out and knock the smirk off, but it was Harold who took a step forward, only to be stopped when the woman placed her palm on his arm.
“Thank you, but I couldn’t impose upon you.”
His features softened as he patted her hand. “Bah.” He gave her a little squeeze. Genuine appreciation and what appeared to be relief flittered across her face. “No worries,” he reassured her. “Let’s grab some grub. Afterward Larry should be done looking at your vehicle and then we can pick up a few of your things.”
Leo didn’t like Harold’s plans in the least bit. It would be better if she stayed at the Sleepy Cove, then perhaps he could enlist Lila Sheppard to keep an eye on the woman when he couldn’t.
“Don’t you be standing there. Get to it!” Harold barked at Leo.
“But maybe she should stay at—”
“No more jabberwocky. Call for the tow, lad. Ask Larry to stop by the Seafarer when he’s had a look.” When Harold turned away from him, Leo knew their conversation was over. In lieu of angering the man more, he’d call a tow and then speak with Brody. Maybe he could rationalize with the man.
Leo pushed the button on the radio strapped to his shoulder and leaned into the microphone. “Headquarters, this is Caan. Over.”
“Caan, this is Headquarters. Over,” squawked the person on the other end.
“Need a tow at five sixty-five west, Delmarts. Over.”
“Copied your previous. Out.”
“Roger that. Out.” He released the button, noting that Harold and his newfound friend had begun wrapping and packing the glassware to be loaded back into the RV. As some of the people drifted away, several decided to hang around, including the little girl and her mother.
“Don’t just stand there,” Harold grumbled. “Lend a hand.”
As Leo picked up a beautiful clear bowl, edged with what looked like flakes of gold, Harold and the woman disappeared behind the RV. They were gone for a brief period when the dark-haired child who had been admiring the fairy figurine earlier came from around the back of the vehicle holding the delicate trinket in her hands, a huge smile plastered upon her youthful face. Her mother hurried her along, casting a disgruntled look at Leo and Bert.
When several more people came from around the RV carrying bags, Bert turned to him. “Well, Officer, what are you going to do?”
“She’s leaving.”
“But—”
One cold glare from Leo silenced the man. Instead, he turned and stomped off.
So what if he turned a blind eye to what she was doing? It was Christmas and they would all win in the end. She would be able to afford a place to live while her vehicle was being fixed, and then she would leave Whispering Cove.
He grabbed a piece of tissue paper from beneath the table and started to wrap the bowl. It wasn’t long before Harold and his new friend came laughing from around the vehicle. She took one look at Leo and grew quiet. Then she picked up another box and headed back to the RV.
Harold walked toward him, his breathing heavy from exertion. “She be a pretty lass.” He cocked his head, eyeing Leo with a strange look. “Don’t you think?”
Leo placed the bowl into a box. “Who can tell with all that makeup?”
“Boy, you need to open your eyes. There be a special lass behind that façade.”
Leo shook his head. The man had finally lost it. There was nothing behind that woman except trouble.
Nothing more was said as they continued to pack the glassware. When the box was full, Leo lifted it into his arms and headed toward the RV. The woman met him halfway, her arms extended toward him. “I’ll take that.”
“That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”
“Thank you, but I’ll take care of it.”
“It’s too heavy for you,” he insisted, wondering why she didn’t want him near her vehicle.
“Who do you think carried it out here to begin with?” She tugged on the box, but he didn’t release it.
He wanted to get a look inside her RV. “You shouldn’t be lifting things too heavy for you.”
She kept her hold on the box. “Are you always this stubborn?”
“Only when I’m right,” he countered.
“And I suppose you’re always right?”
“Well.” He shrugged.
“Fine.” She released her hold and he caught himself from stumbling backward. “Just place it on floor and close the door behind you. And if you’re looking for drugs, you won’t find any.” With a flip of her shoulder, she spun around and walked away.
The sway of her hips trapped Leo’s attention. He couldn’t help noticing she had a sexy walk and long legs that disappeared beneath a rather short skirt. He caught himself wondering what the rest of her looked like, and then he grumbled. It had been a while since he’d had a relationship. Perhaps that was why this woman was getting under his skin. Good thing she would be leaving soon.
As he entered the RV he noted it was a little worn from wear, but it was neat and clean. It had all the comforts of home, a small television
set, microwave, even pictures of her and a middle-aged, bleach-blonde woman who looked like she had been around the block several times. By the way they hugged each other there had been love. As quickly as he could he scanned the area, looked into the small bedroom where everything appeared in its place. He wanted to check out the small room at the back, but didn’t have the opportunity when he heard Larry’s diesel engine roar up alongside the RV.
Exiting the vehicle, he saw her hand the keys to Larry before she walked away arm in arm with the sheriff’s grandfather-in-law. Just before they reached Harold’s car, she turned and looked straight at Leo. A pink bubble appeared from between her lips. Then she popped it with her finger and stuck it and her gum into her mouth before slowly extracting it.
His first assessment of this woman was correct. She was trouble with a capital “T”.
It took him a moment to realize that he’d let her leave and he didn’t even know her name. Which meant when he contacted Brody he wouldn’t have anything substantial to say and that just wasn’t acceptable. He had no choice but to follow them.
Chapter Two
A large red sign scrolled with the word “Seafarer” in big white letters hung above the double doors of the rustic restaurant. Seagulls squawked overhead, mixing with the voices of vendors hawking their wares from the nearby fish market. The delicious scent of garlic and fresh bread caressed her nose along with a slight fishy scent that wafted in the salty air. Sky’s boots joined the soft shuffle of Harold’s loafers as they stepped upon the wooden porch. Before they entered, she stealthily disposed of her gum in the original wrapper and slipped it in her coat pocket.
The restaurant had a sense of ocean flare that included pictures of ships caught in raging storms, along with large fishing nets pinned to the walls where petrified crabs and lobsters hung. And no self-respecting entrepreneur would forget a variety of starfish and shells. Red and white appeared to be the theme because all the tables were draped with red-and-white-checker tablecloths. A roll of paper towels sat next to a recessed silver pail in each round table, with several dotted along the oblong tables.
As the two of them moved farther into the spacious room, someone called Harold’s name. Sky turned to see two elderly gentlemen waving her new friend over. When he headed their way, she hesitated, not wanting to interfere, but she was quickly pulled forward when he grabbed her hand.
“They be a scruffy bunch, but they don’t bite.”
As they approached, the men got to their feet to greet them. It had been a while since anyone had treated her like a lady. Even longer since she had actually felt like one. Her attire, makeup and hair usually attracted a certain type of man, one that didn’t usually practice social etiquette. Of course, she wasn’t looking for the happily ever after. She only wished to keep her freedom. Her current persona worked.
The elderly gentleman with a scrap of long, stringy, gray hair combed over a rather bald head captured her hand in his. “Who do we have here?” His warm smile was welcoming, so unlike that of the policeman she’d had the misfortune to meet earlier. Before she could think further about the stuffy man, Harold broke into her thoughts.
“Tempest Sky, this bottom feeder is Errol Wilson. He be a scallywag and a charmer, so watch your step.”
Errol’s eyes widened in feigned innocence, but she saw exactly what Harold meant hiding behind those weathered eyes that twinkled with laughter. In his day he must have been a lady’s man. Time had placed its tracks across the man’s face with crow’s feet at the corner of each eye and a conglomerate of age spots. Judging by the cane at his side, time had also taken the bounce from his step, but not the man next to him.
“Never you mind these two, chickadee.” The tallest of the three men spoke as he held out a gnarled and swollen hand. “I’m Byron Mitchell, at your service.”
“And he be ugly enough to scare buzzards off a gut wagon.”
Sky couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from her lips as she took Byron’s painful-looking hand that reminded her of Stella in hers. Rheumatoid arthritis had stolen the very life from her friend. Yet Byron appeared more fortunate because from what she could see of his lean body he had no other joint deformities or bulging nodules.
And ugly this man had never been.
She had seen men who carried the same mien as this one. There was something dignified in the way he held himself. Her gaze swept over the men, and she wondered how the three, so obviously different, had ever found friendship.
“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Mitchell.” She released her hold.
“Mr. Mitchell was my father. Call me Byron.” He pulled a chair out for her, encouraging her to sit.
“I don’t want to impose.” She looked toward Harold for direction, but Byron said, “Nonsense, chickadee. We haven’t even ordered.”
What would it hurt to take a moment of time and enjoy their company? For months now she had been so alone, and she was hungry—real hungry. She slipped off her coat, hanging it on the back of her chair before she took a seat. The approaching young waitress’s eyes grew in size as she peered at Sky’s exposed cleavage. Sky almost laughed again when she nearly spilled the tray of waters and basket of fresh bread and butter she held. She regained her composure and placed the items on the table.
Sky didn’t notice how the men responded, instead the warm aroma before her made her mouth water. When her stomach rumbled loud enough for half the room to hear, the men looked at her with obvious sympathy. Embarrassment heated her cheeks.
“Tish, can you bring us some of those crab cakes while our guest looks at the menu?”
“S-sure, Errol.” The tall, slender teenager paused before adding, “Katy said to order whatever you want as long as it’s not rum.”
“Balderdash,” Errol hissed. “You just never mind what my meddlesome granddaughter says and brings us a bottle.”
Harold pushed the basket of bread in front of Sky before he leaned back into his chair, clasped his hands atop his protruding belly and gazed at her with curiosity. It wasn’t the first time someone had scrutinized her, but it felt a little uncomfortable with three sets of eyes upon her from across the table. She sucked in a deep breath and immediately knew it was a mistake when the heavenly aroma filled her lungs.
Sky tried to resist the bread, but the scent was getting the best of her. “Do you mind?”
“No. Go right ahead,” Byron responded.
She picked up a piece and took a bite. Oh God, she silently moaned. It had been ages since she’d enjoyed homemade bread, and it was still warm. Picking up a knife, she slathered the remaining slice with butter and then took another bite, nearly moaning aloud this time. It was honey butter.
“So, Tempest, what brings you to Whispering Cove?” Errol’s question shattered her moment of ecstasy. She waited until after she swallowed to answer, patted her mouth lightly with her napkin, before re-adjusting it in her lap.
“Gas. Well, that had been the plan—to fill up and then continue on to Augusta.”
“Her RV broke down,” Harold explained. “She’ll be staying with me for a spell.”
Errol’s and Byron’s eyebrows shot up at the same time.
“Who’s staying with you, Harold?” A pretty woman with her light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail walked up to the table. The white apron she wore was spotless, but her chin had a streak of flour across it. Sky took a closer look and immediately recognized her from Cooking with Katy, a television show Stella had never missed. The season had ended a month ago.
“Granddad.” Katy bent down and kissed Errol on the cheek and then her curious sight was pinned on Sky.
“Katy, meet Tempest,” he said.
Katy smoothed her palms down her apron and moved to where she could extend Sky her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” But the suspicion in her eyes said differently.
Sky shook the woman’s cool hand. “The pleasure is mine.”
“So you’ll be staying with Harold for a while?”
Sky was u
sed to being interrogated, but she was hoping to at least make it through lunch. “Until my vehicle is fixed.”
“Are you a relative? Cousin?” Katy didn’t wait for an answer as she added, “Andie never mentioned she had a cousin. Harold, I thought you were an only child, like Andie.”
“The lass be stranded. I’m helping her out while she’s in town.” The silence that followed hung heavy in the air until Harold broke in. “What be the special today, Katy?”
Katy picked her jaw off the floor and muttered, “Seafood linguine.”
He patted his stomach. “That’s what I’ll be having. What about you, Tempest?”
“That’s fine,” she replied. But what she wanted to do was get up from the table, locate the Black Angel and leave this little town fast and furiously. Just because these three gentlemen appeared open minded and didn’t judge her for how she looked didn’t mean the rest of the town would be as obliging. Her thoughts flashed back to the stuffy policeman who hadn’t thought twice of revealing his feelings about her.
“Sounds good to me,” Errol said. “And don’t forget that bottle of rum.”
Katy placed her palms on her slender hips and scowled down upon him. “Grandpa,” she growled.
“Now, girl, don’t put a damper on our lunch.”
“But, Granddad, the doctor—”
“I think I’ll have the linguine too,” Byron chimed in.
Katy started to speak again when her grandfather blurted, “We’re hungry, child.” He brushed his hand several times through the air as he chirped, “Get. Get. Get.”
With a huff and something muttered beneath her breath, Katy turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
Unease crawled beneath Sky’s skin. She didn’t belong here. Harold had been good to her, but she didn’t want to cause him trouble. “Maybe I should stay at a motel.”
Stockings (Whispering Cove) Page 2
