by Bobbi Holmes
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Adam asked Danielle the moment he saw her.
“Some greeting.” She laughed.
“I thought you were staying two weeks?” he said. “It hasn’t been two weeks yet.”
“Ten days, not two weeks,” Danielle said.
A fifty-something couple sat alone at their table, each looking over their menus. Commotion from one of the nearby booths caught the woman’s attention.
“Beau, isn’t that your Realtor?” she asked her husband.
The man looked up from his menu and turned his attention to the group of thirty-something people at a large booth. He was close enough to see them, yet not close enough to hear what they were saying.
“Yes, it is. Adam Nichols,” Beau said.
“His date is stunning. Is she a model?” she asked, referring to the tall leggy blonde standing at Adam’s side.
Beau chuckled. “Hardly. That’s Melony Carmichael. She’s a criminal attorney and a damn good one.”
“That’s not Jolene and Doug’s girl, is it?”
“It is.”
Setting her menu on the table, she glanced briefly to where Melony stood before looking back to Beau. “I remember their daughter became a lawyer. That always surprised me. She was a wild thing, as I recall.”
Beau shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu.
Curious, she glanced back to Adam’s booth. She noticed the blond man at the end of the table, sitting next to a goth-looking girl. An odd pair, she thought. He reminded her of someone from a beach band. “Who are the others?”
He looked up. “Why do you care?”
She shrugged. “Only curious. And we’re now property owners in Frederickport; it doesn’t hurt to meet the locals. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”
He set his menu on the table and glanced over to Adam’s booth.
“The guy at the end, I met him at Adam’s office. That’s Chris Johnson, and next to him is his assistant, Halley or Hillary, something that starts with an H. I don’t remember. They work for the Glandon Foundation.”
“So they aren’t a couple?” she asked.
“I doubt it.”
“That makes more sense. They seemed rather mismatched. What does he do at the Glandon Foundation? Isn’t that a nonprofit organization?”
“Yes. And after meeting Johnson and his assistant, I’m convinced their charity extends to giving cushy jobs to people with no qualifications. They both seem more suited for work in a head shop.”
“Perhaps they hired him for his looks,” she said with a chuckle before picking up her water glass and taking a sip.
“I seriously doubt she was,” he said with a snort, nodding to the assistant. “I haven’t met them, but someone pointed them out to me, the little redhead with the tall guy. The tall guy is Jon Altar.”
“You’re kidding me? I heard he lives here.”
“I meant to tell you. I learned Altar is a pen name; his actual name is Ian Bartley. From what I understand, his wife is a teacher.”
“And the other couple?” She nodded to the brunette and her companion.
“I’ve no idea who they are,” he said with a shrug.
Fifteen minutes later, after their server took their orders and delivered their cocktails, Beau excused himself to visit the restroom. En route, he passed Adam’s table, stopping a moment to say hello.
“Beau, I thought that was you over there,” Adam said, standing up briefly to shake Beau’s hand.
“Evening, Adam,” Beau greeted him.
Sitting back down at the table, Adam said, “Everyone, this is one of my clients,” he hastily added, “and friend,” before saying, “Beau Stewart.” Adam motioned to Chris and Heather and said, “You’ve already met Chris and Heather.”
“Nice to see you again,” Beau said with a nod, while Chris and Heather returned a brief greeting.
“And next to Heather is Danielle Marlow and her husband, Walt.”
Beau cocked his brow at Walt. “The author?”
Walt smiled. “Guilty.”
“Walt’s not the only author in the group. This is Lily Bartley and her husband, Ian Bartley, but you might recognize him as Jon Altar.”
“Ahh, it’s a pleasure,” Beau said, shaking Ian’s hand. “My wife is a great fan of yours.”
“And you wouldn’t be the same Beau Stewart who some say will be our next senator?” Ian asked.
Beau laughed and said, “Now I’m the guilty one.”
“Is he moving to Frederickport?” Danielle asked after Beau left their table and was out of earshot.
“No. He purchased land for a vacation home. He bought it from his cousin.”
“Why did he have to use a Realtor if he was buying it from a relative?” Heather asked.
“Because the cousin listed the property and didn’t sell it directly to him. Although, I have a feeling he might have if it hadn’t been for his family,” Adam said.
“What do you mean?” Danielle asked.
“The guy who owned the property is ill. Beau knew his cousin wanted to sell. His kids aren’t interested in living there, and his wife died a while back. Beau tried to buy the property directly from him, but I suspect the guy’s kids felt Beau was trying to take advantage of their father, so they convinced him to list the property. Which I’m rather glad they did.” Adam snickered.
“Because then you get a commission?” Danielle teased.
“Exactly. Although I imagine the kids—although I use that term loosely, I’m certain they’re older than me—anyway, they were a little annoyed, because after it closed escrow, they realized their dad would’ve probably ended up with more money had they not used an agent and had to pay six percent in real estate fees. Beau ended up paying his cousin what he offered the first time. There wasn’t a lot of action on that property, and to be honest with you, I wouldn’t be surprised if Beau only bought it to help his cousin out. He’s too sick to take care of the place, and frankly it’s a mess. Needs demolishing.”
“If the place is in that bad a shape, and their father is ill and they don’t want it, I’m surprised they would have had an issue with a cousin getting it,” Lily said.
Adam shrugged. “Just between us, there’s no love lost between them. The Stewarts are loaded, and the cousin who sold him the property—I guess you could call him the poor relation. I think his kids didn’t want Beau to get his hands on the property.”
“You’re right about Stewart being loaded,” Ian said. “I did a little research on him a while back when they started talking about him running for Congress. Back then it seemed he came up out of nowhere. I wondered who the guy was.”
“Where did he get all his money?” Danielle asked.
“Family money. His father was a developer, and they own a ton of property in Oregon. He took over the family business after his father died,” Ian explained.
Danielle looked at Adam and arched her brows. “Ahh, good client, Adam. More real estate transactions with him in your future?”
“I wish, but he has his own team. He used me because he wanted someone local,” Adam said.
“If he has so much money, why in the world would he want to go into politics?” Heather asked.
“Maybe he wants to give back and help his community,” Danielle suggested.
Ian let out a snort. “Sometimes you can be so naïve, Danielle.”
Danielle frowned at Ian. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Power. Men like Stewart do it for the power,” Ian said.
Three
Beau Stewart studied his wife as she walked to the women’s restroom, leaving him alone at their table. He liked that she normally wore stylish dresses, stayed trim and fit, and visited the beauty parlor once a week. Many considered her tall at five nine, yet he still stood a good six inches over her. She had been his high school sweetheart, which proved to be a valuable asset now that his interests had turned to politics.
They had just fini
shed dinner. He tossed his napkin on the table and picked up his cellphone while his gaze drifted over to Adam Nichols’s table. The group seemed to enjoy themselves, chatting away, laughing, while sharing plates of dessert the server had brought minutes earlier. None seemed especially concerned over germs, as forks and spoons darted across the table, snatching bites of cake and ice cream in various flavors. Beau had never been a fan of someone else taking food from his plate.
He placed his call, his gaze darting from Adam’s table to where his wife had headed and back to Adam.
His party answered a moment later. Beau said, “You will never guess who I just met…Walt and Danielle Marlow…Pearl Cove…Yes, they’re obviously back in town…I learned something interesting, they’re having a fundraiser at Marlow House on the fourth…It’s some anniversary…Does it matter? Yes, that’s what I was thinking…” He glanced up and spied his wife returning to the table. “I have to go. Talk to you in the morning.”
“Who were you talking to?” his wife asked when she returned to the table and sat down.
“It was our son; he couldn’t find the television remote, again. By the way, I forgot to tell you, when I stopped and said hello to Adam, they told me about a fundraiser they’re having over at Marlow House on the fourth. You said you wanted to see inside, and the event includes a tour.”
“I read about that,” she said. “I intended to mention it to you. They’re raising money for the local Humane Society.”
“We should go,” he told her. “It would be an excellent opportunity to meet some locals.”
A moment later the server came to the table and removed their dinner plates and took their dessert order. After the server left them alone, his wife started telling him something when two women walking from the direction of the restrooms caught his attention. His wife continued to chatter on, oblivious to her husband’s momentary lapse. One looked Beau’s way, and their eyes locked briefly. He didn’t know her, but there was something eerily familiar about the woman.
She quickly looked away, breaking their brief silent exchange, and began whispering to the woman at her side while they continued on their way. After they passed their table, Beau turned around and studied the two women as they headed for the entrance of the Pearl Cove lounge. Right before entering, the one who had met his gaze looked back. Once again, their eyes met.
Kiara grabbed her cousin’s hand and picked up her pace, walking hastily toward the table in the lounge where her brother, Laken, waited.
“What are you doing?” Raven asked with a laugh, allowing Kiara to hurry her to their destination.
“Didn’t you see who that was?” Kiara asked as she reached the table. Dropping hold of Raven’s hand, she took a seat across from Laken.
“Yes, Walt and Danielle Marlow…” Raven began.
“No!” Kiara shook her head. “No, I mean, yes, they were there too. I saw them. You practically put a hole in my side with your elbow.”
“I barely nudged you,” Raven argued.
Laken sat up straighter at the table. “The Marlows are here?”
Cocking a brow, Kiara looked from her brother to her cousin. “Yes, they are. And so is Beau Stewart. And he was staring at us!”
“No secret he’s in Frederickport. I’m not surprised to run into him,” Laken said. “I’m more interested in hearing about the Marlows.”
“But the way he was looking at me…” Kiara shivered.
“You said he was staring at us,” Raven said.
“Well, I guess he was, but then he wasn’t. He looked me directly in the eyes. It was creepy. And then right before we walked into the lounge, I looked back, and he was still staring at us.”
“You mean at you,” Raven reminded her.
Kiara glared at her cousin. “And that was not a nudge. You slammed your elbow in my side.”
Raven shrugged. “You were always delicate.”
“Would you two stop,” Laken snapped. “If the Marlows are here, that means they’re back in Frederickport.”
“Obviously,” Kiara said, slumping back in her chair. “Now what?”
“We should do what I suggested in the beginning,” Raven said.
“What, knock on their door and tell them we think they have something we need?” Kiara asked.
“I don’t understand why not,” Raven said. “You guys always want to do things the hard way. I don’t think this needs to be that difficult.”
“And if Marlow is such a decent guy, why hasn’t he done something by now? Instead of using it to make money. And from what I understand, it isn’t like he needs money. He’s no different from Stewart,” Laken said.
The server had removed all the dirty dishes from their table and delivered the check, which Chris promptly snatched. There was a brief argument from several in his party, who wanted to pay, but he reminded them dinner out was his idea.
“Thanks, Chris. I have to say this was much better than takeout,” Danielle said. “But we need to get home and unpack, and I’m looking forward to seeing Max.”
“Don’t forget, tomorrow night we’re having a barbecue at our house,” Lily reminded them.
“Wow, going out two nights in a row,” Heather said.
“I figure people will start arriving for the Fourth this weekend, and we won’t be able to use the beach for a while. Not unless we want to fight the crowds,” Lily said.
“All my rentals are full this next week, so you have a point,” Adam said.
Danielle stood up with Walt. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re exhausted. We’ve been up for hours. And we really need to get home and unpack.”
“It was nice seeing everyone,” Walt said as he drove the car with Danielle to Marlow House.
Danielle yawned and said, “I have to say, Adam seems to have gotten over whatever issue he once had with you.”
“I like Adam. I also like how he once informed me I wasn’t to take advantage of you—the protective brother.” Walt chuckled.
“I used to think he was such a jerk. Melony is good for him.”
“His friendship with you is good for him.”
Danielle smiled at Walt.
“It surprised me we didn’t see Marie or Eva tonight. I was sure they would stop by the restaurant,” Walt said.
“When I went to the bathroom with Heather, she told me Eva and Marie have been spending the last few days in Astoria, something going on with the theater there. According to Heather, we won’t see Marie or Eva until after the fourth.”
“I thought Marie was taking care of Max?” Walt asked.
“Marie asked Heather to check on Max for the last few days,” Danielle explained.
A few minutes later Walt turned down the alleyway leading to their garage. When they reached it, Danielle used the remote to open the garage door. Walt pulled the car in and parked next to the Packard. After he turned off the engine, the garage door came down.
A few minutes later they had the luggage out of the vehicle and piled just outside the garage door, in the backyard. Danielle reached for her suitcases when Walt shooed her away. She stepped back for a moment and smiled at the luggage. It floated up from the ground, carried by invisible hands, and floated effortlessly across the yard from the garage to the kitchen door.
Danielle laughed and said, “Someone might see!”
Walt nodded over to Pearl Huckabee’s house next door. “The only one who could see is Pearl. Her upstairs is pitch dark. During this time of night, I imagine she’s downstairs with her television on, and she can’t see in our yard from there.”
Several minutes earlier, Pearl Huckabee stood in the darkness at her bedroom window, about to close the blinds, when she noticed lights from the Marlows’ garage next door. She understood they had been out of town for over a week and wondered if they had just returned. Looking across her neighbor’s yard, the sky lit by a full moon, she spied the Marlows walking from the garage into the backyard.
She was about to turn from the window when motion in front of
Walt and Danielle caught her attention. It looked like their luggage—and it was flying. Flying across the yard as Walt and Danielle followed it, hand in hand.
Pearl closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned from the window, not looking back. “Why did I let my doctor talk me into trying medical marijuana? Never again.”
Leaning against the pile of pillows stacked along the headboard, Walt stretched out under the crisp clean bed linens, his chest bare, and the top sheet and blanket pulled up to his waist, covering the lower portion of his body. Danielle had insisted he take his shower first while she unpacked the luggage. She was now in the shower; he could hear the water running. Max sat at his side, looking up at him with golden eyes and conversing in the way they did. Not with words, but with silent telepathy.
“Did anything interesting happen while we were gone?” As was his habit, Walt asked aloud even though it wasn’t the verbal words Max understood. “What do you mean…Why didn’t you say something before?”
Danielle walked into the bedroom a few minutes later to the sound of Walt grilling Max, a one-sided conversation that immediately piqued her curiosity.
“What’s going on?” she asked while running a brush through her damp hair.
Walt looked up from Max to Danielle. “Someone broke in the house.”
“When?” Danielle frowned, looking from Walt to Max.
“This afternoon. They came up here and searched through our things.”
Danielle stopped brushing her hair and glanced around the room, looking for anything out of place. “Someone was in our bedroom?”
“From what Max said, it sounded like they only had time to go through my desk. But Joanne showed up, and they slipped out through the hidden staircase.”
“Oh no! Joanne walked in on them? How many were there?”
“If Max can count correctly—after all, he is a cat—it sounds like there were two of them. A man and woman, by the sound of their voices.”
