Cape Light

by Thomas Kinkade

  “I finally tracked down the guy who was working at the gas station that night,” Tucker Tulley added. “I interviewed him twice. He thought he saw someone using the phone near the air pumps. But he couldn’t say for sure.”

  “Yes, I read the report.” Emily leaned back in her chair. A brown police folder sat open on her desk. “What do we do now?”

  “Not much we can do,” Jim Sanborn admitted. “None of the parties involved wants to file a suit. Mainly because they just don’t know whom to sue,” he added. “That phone call wrecked Dr. Elliot’s sale, but they all seem ready to forget it.”

  Emily tapped her pen on the desktop. She’d made a few notes in the margin of the report and glanced at them before closing the cover. “As much as I’m reluctant to let this go, I guess we have no choice.” She looked straight at Tucker. “You’ve done a good job here, Tucker. A thorough job, it appears to me.”

  Tucker nodded. “Thank you, Mayor.”

  They all knew what she meant. With Charlie Bates as the most likely suspect in this scenario, the assignment couldn’t have been easy for Tucker. He looked soft as cheese, but the man really did have grit and integrity, Emily reflected.

  “I suppose we’ll just to have to wait and see what happens when Betty finds a new buyer,” she said.

  “Nothing, I hope,” Jim said. “I hope the caller got scared off when he or she saw how we followed up on it.”

  “Yes, let’s hope so,” Emily agreed. “Has anyone told Dr. Elliot that you’ve finished the investigation?”

  “We were waiting to meet with you first, Emily,” Jim said. “I can call him this afternoon.”

  Emily paused. “Would you mind if I did?”

  Jim looked surprised but shook his head. “No, not at all. Tell him to call me if he has any questions you can’t answer.”

  Emily thanked the men as they left her office. When she was alone, she dialed Dr. Elliot but only got his answering machine. She left a brief message and hung up.

  She was worried about him. Ever since he openly accused Charlie, she hadn’t seen him around town as much. Lately, his house seemed almost deserted, with the shades nearly always drawn. He had come to visit her mother once in the last few weeks, but had since declined her invitations to their usual Sunday lunches.

  Although Dr. Elliot seemed the quintessential tough old Yankee, Emily suspected he was more fragile than he let on. As unreasonable as it seemed, many people in town sided with Charlie on this issue and had made harsh, even untrue comments about the doctor. Emily only hoped that his land sale would move along smoothly now, and the issue would die down. And that Dr. Elliot would feel free to come out of hiding, if that was what was going on.

  JESSICA STARED OUT THE WINDOW IN HER OFFICE, irrationally wishing she could board it over. Every time she looked at it, it reminded her of Sam. But everything did these days. She hadn’t heard a word from him since he’d motored off on the sailboat.

  It had been just over a week and felt much longer. Her feelings seesawed between believing it was all for the best and wishing she could just pick up the phone and call him. More than once she found herself in tears. She had talked to a friend in Boston about it, written in a journal. She even read a self-help book about how to move on from a breakup. Nothing seemed to resolve her conflicting emotions.

  But maybe things would change soon. This morning she received an e-mail about a job opening at the Boston branch that she was qualified to fill. It was a good opportunity for her, and the transfer was just about guaranteed. She picked up the necessary papers from the Personnel Department and started filling them out.

  She glanced down at the forms on her desk. It was slow-going. The questions were simple. The problem was more in the questions she read between the lines.

  If she applied and it all went through, she could be back in the city in a few weeks. Her mother didn’t really need her here anymore, not the way she had in the winter, and Emily would be very understanding, Jessica was sure.

  But did she really want to leave Cape Light now? It all seemed so . . . abrupt. Maybe she just felt that way because of the way things were with Sam. They had just walked away from each other without really settling anything.

  Sometimes Jessica found herself giving in to habit—picking up the phone, about to call Sam’s shop or apartment. Then she would remember they weren’t speaking to each other. While she knew that everything she said on the dock was true, she missed him. It hurt so much to think their relationship might really be over for good.

  When Jessica got home that evening, she kicked off her shoes at the door and dropped her briefcase. She felt beat, too tired even to work in the garden. Her flowers were thriving in the last wave of summer heat. Elsie’s kittens were thriving, too, and had basically taken over the apartment, either dashing about madly or sleeping in the most unexpected places. Last night, as she was making a cup of tea, she found one curled up on a shelf in the cupboard.

  But she didn’t have anyone to share the story with.

  Maybe I’ll feel better after a shower, she told herself, though she didn’t really believe it. Still, when the phone rang minutes after she got out of the shower, she rushed toward it. Her mother or Emily, probably. Sam, hopefully?

  Jessica forced herself to wait while the machine picked up. Her pulse jumped when she heard a male voice, then she recognized the speaker. It was Paul.

  “I just got back a few days ago. It’s been a real madhouse around here, of course, or I would have called you sooner. But I wanted to touch base and let you know I was back. . . .”

  She picked up the receiver before he could hang up. “Paul? Hi, how are you?”

  “I’m crazy, stressed, still running on Central Time and suffering from culture shock. Don’t ever order pizza in Dudley, South Dakota, by the way. How are you?”

  “I’m . . . good,” she replied, sitting down in a kitchen chair. Elsie jumped up on the table, looking to be petted, and Jessica obliged.

  “How has your summer been?”

  “Busy,” she said, “but fun. I’ve planted a garden here. Everything’s in bloom now.”

  “Hmmm, I turn my back for a few weeks and you turn into Martha Stewart on me. You can get help for that, you know,” he teased her.

  She laughed but had the old feeling again—that she needed to be on her guard, to live up to Paul’s expectations. Or what she thought they were. “I like to garden,” she said simply. “Besides, there isn’t much else to do out here.”

  She suddenly felt guilty, realizing she was being unfair to Sam. She was making it sound as though the time she spent with him was nothing. But it had felt like something. It had felt like something great most of the time.

  “Sounds like I returned just in time to save you from your humdrum country life. I’m driving up to Vermont tomorrow, and I thought we could get together on my way back, on Thursday.”

  “Thursday?” Jessica’s voice trailed off on a vague note. Not because she thought she had something to do. But because the idea of seeing Paul, going out on a date with him, was suddenly strange to her.

  The strange thing was that even though she hadn’t spoken to Sam in over a week and didn’t have any idea of where they stood, dating Paul seemed terribly disloyal.

  “Are you busy?” Paul asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Maybe you could come down to the city on the weekend.”

  “I-I’m not sure about the weekend. But Thursday night sounds fine,” she said.

  “Great.” He sounded genuinely pleased, and they set a time to meet.

  Jessica hung up, wondering if she’d done the right thing in agreeing to see Paul. All of a sudden it felt as if she were being pulled away from Cape Light. And from Sam. First the news about the job opening, now Paul. Maybe God was trying to send her a message. She’d never really thought that way before, but maybe there was something to this.

  But when she was really honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave here, after all.

&n
bsp; Jessica closed her eyes and tried to pray. Dear God, I’m new at this stuff. Sorry if I’m not doing it right. If you’re trying to tell me something, could you please make the message a little more obvious? Thank you.

  ON THURSDAY NIGHT PAUL PICKED UP JESSICA AT SIX o’clock sharp. She didn’t have much time after work to fuss with her appearance. She just pulled on a beige linen shift and wore it with low sandals and her hair down loose. At the last minute she added silver earrings and a few thin silver bracelets.

  When she opened the door Paul’s eyes lit with pleasure. “Either I forgot how pretty you are, or you’re looking especially wonderful, Jessica.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Jessica felt her body stiffen; she couldn’t respond in kind. Even though it was just a friendly kiss hello, suddenly all she could think of was Sam.

  Paul stepped inside and looked around. “Cute place,” he said. “I didn’t know you liked antique furniture.”

  “Yes, I do. My mother loaned me some of these things. The rest of my furniture is back in Boston.”

  “Oh, that makes sense.” He gazed around in a way that made her feel self-conscious.

  “I just need to do something in the kitchen, then we can go,” she said quickly.

  “I’ll come with you,” Paul offered, following her.

  Elsie and her kittens were nowhere to be seen. Jessica suspected that they were scattered about in various sleeping spots. But the minute she set down their dishes, they all rushed into the kitchen, mewing loudly.

  “Yikes, it’s a stampede,” Paul joked as he stepped aside to let the cats pass by. One of the kittens started playing with his shoelace, and he knelt down and scratched it behind the ears.

  “I didn’t know you liked cats so much,” he said, glancing up at her.

  “I took in a stray, the mother,” Jessica said, pointing out Elsie. “The rest are sort of an accident. I need to find homes for them pretty soon. You don’t want a cat, do you? That one seems to like you.”

  “Me? No thanks.” He shook his head and stood up. “I travel so much, it would be hard to have a pet. It’s a big commitment,” he added, gazing down at the kittens. “They are awfully cute, though.”

  “Absolutely,” Jessica agreed.

  Taking in a cat was a commitment. So was having a girlfriend . . . or a wife. Was Paul leery of all commitments? Jessica wondered. He was a nice man, and when they were together he seemed considerate and thoughtful. But she hadn’t heard much from him while he’d been away. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to make a commitment to anyone.

  “Shall we go?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Jessica agreed. She grabbed her sweater and purse and headed for the door.

  Paul had reservations at an expensive waterfront restaurant in nearby Newburyport. All the way there and straight through appetizers, Paul gave Jessica a detailed account of the business problems he encountered on his trip.

  She was actually feeling a bit bored by the time the main course was served, even though Paul asked her advice on several matters and seemed impressed with her suggestions.

  “You’re very sharp,” he said. “Want to come work for me?”

  Jessica laughed. “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m perfectly serious,” he insisted. “We’d make a good team. Your looks and brains. And my wheeling and dealing.”

  As her mother might say, he could talk a dog off a meat wagon. Still she laughed, flattered by his compliments.

  “Paul, be serious. What would I do there?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. We could think of something. Calculate this and that. Money is money, Jessica, makes the world go round. What do you do at the bank? I’m sure they’re wasting you there. How’s the new job going, by the way?”

  “Not so new anymore,” she pointed out. “It’s going fine.”

  The truth was, she had been cruising this summer at work. She did her job responsibly, of course, but she wasn’t nearly as focused on it as she had been in the city.

  Or had been before she met Sam, she corrected herself.

  “I’ve put in for a transfer to the main branch in Boston,” Jessica admitted. “It’s a lateral move, same title, but there’s much more going on there. I’m sure it will be more challenging for me. Better experience.”

  “Sounds good.” Paul poured them each a glass of wine from the expensive bottle he had ordered. “I hope it comes through. I’m glad to hear you’re coming back to the city. I was wondering about that. It would be nice to be closer.”

  He smiled and met her gaze. The warm look in his eyes made Jessica uneasy. She looked away and took a sip of her water.

  “It’s not certain yet. I might not even get it.”

  “Oh, you’ll get it,” he said encouragingly. He lifted his glass. “Let’s have a toast, to your victorious return from exile.”

  Jessica lifted her glass. He made it sound as if she had been banished to a desert island. And she was the one who had given him that impression, she realized.

  The rest of the dinner passed slowly for Jessica. Paul did most of the talking. If he noticed that she wasn’t contributing much to the conversation, he didn’t let it show.

  “So how’s your mother doing?” he asked at last. “I guess she must be better if you’re ready to come back to the city.”

  “She’s still having physical therapy, but she’s improved a lot this summer.”

  “I bet she’ll be disappointed to see you go, though. And your sister, too,” he added.

  “Well, I haven’t told either of them about the transfer yet,” Jessica admitted. “I thought I would just wait and see what happens.”

  Paul nodded. “That sounds logical. From what you’ve told me, sounds like they both know you weren’t going to stay here forever. Besides, Boston’s not a very long drive. You can get back here in less than two hours if you’re really needed again.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said. “I really won’t be that far.”

  Jessica smiled in agreement, but the talk of leaving Cape Light was making her feel unbearably sad. She would be leaving Emily, whom she was just growing close to, and her mother, who might not have that many years left. Most of all, she would be leaving Sam, whom she already missed.

  Jessica didn’t realize that her feelings were so evident until Paul reached across the table and took her hand.

  “Something wrong?” he asked kindly.

  “No, not at all,” she lied. “I’m just a bit tired, I guess. It’s been a long week.”

  “I’m sure. Making a job change is stressful, even within the same organization. Then you’ll have all the hassles of moving again,” he said with a sigh. “If there’s anything I can do to help you, I hope you’ll let me know. I really want to speed along this process,” he added with a smile.

  “Thanks . . . I will,” Jessica said hesitantly. The warm look in Paul’s eyes made her uneasy . . . when once it would have made her so happy.

  She wondered if she really could call on Paul for help. She knew he meant the offer sincerely, yet she didn’t really see him as someone she could rely on. Somehow it seemed more likely that if she called Paul, he’d have some important business to attend to.

  Unlike Sam, she couldn’t help thinking, who would drop everything for a friend.

  That didn’t make Paul a bad person. He meant well, but his business was his real priority.

  “. . . but unfortunately, the world is a fiercely competitive place,” he was saying. She hadn’t even noticed that he had changed the subject. “A man’s got to do what he has to in order to succeed—before the other guy does it to him. I can’t help it, Jessica. I like fine things—good food and wine, nice clothes, tickets to the shows, an expensive car. I work hard and I want the very best.”

  He gave her a boyish grin. “I know people say money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy an awful lot of stuff to distract you while you’re waiting.”

  Jessica smiled. He hadn’t said anything about true
happiness, she noticed. What did all these trappings of success really add up to? Would Paul ever meet his goals—or would there always be something else just out of reach? She once thought she would be perfectly happy sharing a life with him, but now she wondered.

  Again her thoughts returned to Sam, who was genuinely happy in his own skin, marching to his own drummer, not measuring his wealth by anyone else’s standard. If Sam inherited a million dollars overnight, she doubted that would change him or his values. And if Paul suddenly decided to be a waiter, or dig clams for a living, he’d still be Paul. Sam would still really see and appreciate his surroundings, sharing himself with the person he was with. He would still value more than dollars and cents. Would Paul?

  What am I doing here? Jessica asked herself. She had an urge to bolt from her chair, drive straight to Sam’s house, and tell him about her revelation. She didn’t want a relationship with Paul.

  She tried to look interested as Paul talked on about a financial analyst he was working with. Paul thought she was sharp. Maybe with numbers. When it came to men, Jessica felt like an idiot. She had been so focused on Paul, she hardly noticed that Sam had come into her life and changed everything. She finally understood Sophie Potter’s advice, about getting out of her own way.

  “This waiter is awful.” Paul frowned and pushed back his plate. “I’ll just ask for the check. Let’s go somewhere else for dessert.”

  “Uh . . . okay,” Jessica agreed. The waiter seemed fine to her. The restaurant was quite crowded, and all of the staff were clearly working hard. Maybe it was just as well, though. She wanted to make this an early evening.

  Unfortunately, when they reached Main Street in Cape Light, the Beanery caught Paul’s eye. “That place looks cute, sort of hip for this town,” he said.

  “It’s nice inside,” Jessica said. “They have good coffee.”

  “Who would have thought? Let’s give it a try.” He pulled into a nearby parking space.