At the River’s Edge
Page 2
“There is that,” Gwen agreed. “But either way—running or incarcerated—at least you wouldn’t have to look at him or her every day.”
Gwen had a point, Sophie considered, one that was driven home when she left the confines of her office around eleven and saw Christopher go into the library, followed within seconds by Anita, who closed the door behind her.
Yeah, Gwen definitely had a point.
“Of course you can come for a visit. Stay as long as you want.” Sophie’s brother, Jesse, had sounded pleased when she called to ask if the following week would be convenient for her to visit. “We never get to spend time together since I moved.” Jesse paused. “But is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine.” Sophie swallowed hard. “Well, except that Christopher and I did break up.”
“I thought the two of you were getting serious.”
“Apparently that was only one of us.”
“What happened?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t feel like going into it right now, if that’s okay.”
“Sure, but if you ever feel like talking …”
“I know. Thanks, Jess. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Can’t wait, kiddo.”
Jesse was three years older than Sophie, and he was now making his home in St. Dennis, Maryland, a small town on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay. He’d gone there to join their grandfather’s law firm and had found the love of his life. Jesse and his Brooke would be married in a few months, and Sophie thought their love story had “happily ever after” written all over it. She couldn’t be more pleased for her brother—he’d always been a good guy and if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Jesse. She smiled, recalling how he’d always taken his role as big brother very seriously. On the phone, she downplayed the situation with Chris because she could imagine Jesse’s reaction and she didn’t want to deal with any more drama this week. She just wanted to put Christopher out of sight. With any luck, out of mind would eventually follow.
When Sophie asked Joe, the district attorney, for the week’s vacation she’d been floating, he’d readily agreed. That she had no trials on the docket for the next several weeks made it easy for him to say yes. Somehow she made it to the end of the week without breaking down in the office or losing it in court. If anyone in the office—including Chris and Anita—thought she was running away, well, let them. It might very well have been the truth.
On the other hand, Sophie decided she’d rather think of this trip as running to than running from. After all, who wouldn’t love a week away in an idyllic little Bay town with nothing to do but relax, visit with a favorite relative, and eat glorious food? If at the same time a broken heart began to mend, so much the better.
Chapter 2
JASON Bowers sat in his pickup outside the chain-link fence that surrounded the vacant lot, engine idling, a container of steaming coffee in one hand and a pair of binoculars in the other. Through the lenses he could see across the open space to the bare trees at the back of the property and clear on down to the river that ambled along till it met up with the Chesapeake a few miles to the west. He’d taken to making this a regular stop on his way to work every day since he first saw the “For Sale” sign posted on the gate back in November. The single acre was so overgrown with weeds that the Realtor had been forced to hire someone to come in to cut them down and clean up the lot so that prospective buyers could get a decent look at the grounds. The someone the Realtor hired had been Jason, and for him, it had been love at first sight.
For the past two months, he’d found himself drawn back over and over, not yet tired of imagining the way his nursery would look when he finally got it up and running. He’d blacktop the area from the road down to the trees so he could store his heavy equipment—the Bobcat, backhoes and riding mowers, his dump truck, and the extra pickup—and still have room for the piles of mulch and soil he’d need for his landscaping business. Not to mention parking places. He was planning on needing lots of parking because he was already envisioning lots of customers.
Jason wanted it all so much he could taste it.
Eighteen months ago, he’d sold his Florida landscaping business. It had been a tough decision: he and his late brother, Eric, had started building it before Jason had even graduated from high school. Eric had put up half the money that had gone into making Bowers for Landscape a success, and Jason felt obligated to return that money to his brother’s widow, Brooke, after Eric was killed in Iraq. That obligation had brought him to St. Dennis with no intention of staying, but the opportunity to spend some time with his nephew, Logan—Eric’s only child—had kept him around longer than he’d planned. The longer Jason stayed, the harder it was to think about leaving.
For one thing, Logan was the image of his father, and that alone tugged at Jason’s heart. The fact that Logan was Jason’s only living relative made it even more difficult to move on. Once he’d made the decision to stay in St. Dennis, Jason knew he was doing the right thing. Family connections had opened prominent doors—Brooke’s brother, Clay, was married to the daughter of the owner of the town’s most popular inn, and Brooke was marrying the grandson of St. Dennis’s most prominent resident—but Jason knew it was his hard work that kept his phone ringing.
When he first arrived in St. Dennis, Jason had struggled to establish himself in a town where everyone seemed to belong but him. Thanks to a few influential people, like the Sinclairs and Jesse’s grandfather, Curtis Enright, Jason was slowly building up his business. But in order to prosper, he needed to expand. And in order to expand, he needed more equipment, along with property on which he could park it all, and he’d need to branch into retail sales of garden supplies. The long-neglected field on River Road was exactly what he’d been looking for. After a week’s worth of haggling with the owner, his offer had been accepted, and settlement was now only a week away.
He could hardly believe his good fortune, but he had the owner’s signature on the agreement of sale and had an appointment tomorrow to look at some equipment that was being sold by a retiring landscaper from a neighboring town. There were times—such as right now—when he felt like pinching himself.
Jason took one last sip of coffee before returning the cup to the holder, replaced the lens caps on his binoculars, and tucked them back into their case. He made a U-turn and eased past the old cyclone fence that separated his property from the one next door, where a square stone building stood. Boarded up and covered with vines, it looked every bit as neglected as the lot he was buying, but once cleaned up and renovated, it would make a sweet little shop for the retail business he’d open as soon as he got the nursery going. He’d already had his Realtor contact the owner to see if they could work out a deal, but the owner wasn’t interested in selling right then. Jason would just have to bide his time, maybe have the Realtor try again in the spring.
Of course, he’d have to hire someone to run the shop because he’d always been an outside guy, but he was a smart enough businessman to recognize a void in the marketplace when he saw it, and Jason planned on being the person to fill it. The closest big-box store that carried garden supplies was sixteen miles from St. Dennis and carried plants that were grown who-knew-where across the country in factory-sized, warehouse-style greenhouses. Jason’s perennials would be field grown right there in St. Dennis.
Jason sighed. He’d had all that and more in Florida, and it had killed him to sell it, but it had to be done. That was all behind him now, and there was nothing to be gained by looking back. He told himself that things had all worked out for the best, and there were times when he really believed that. Except for the fact of Eric dying, he wouldn’t change much about his life these days.
Jason wondered what Eric would have thought about living in St. Dennis.
It was a nice enough place, with pretty streets, a lot of old houses, and fabulous views of the Chesapeake Bay. St. Dennis was a town that was fat with history. There were homes several centuries old and famil
ies that had lived there almost as long. And all things considered, here was better than most places. Here he could be a part of Logan’s life, and he knew he had Jesse to thank for that as much as Brooke. Even though Jesse would soon be Logan’s stepfather, he never seemed to resent the place that Jason played in the child’s life. In fact, it had been Jesse’s idea that Jason share coaching duties of Logan’s basketball and softball teams, and he never failed to let Jason know when there were school plays and concerts. All in all, St. Dennis was a pretty good place to have landed, especially when he considered the fact that he didn’t have any real ties to anywhere else.
That was okay, too. For the most part, he kept himself too busy to think about it. Most days he worked from dawn to dusk building up his clientele. Time off was mostly devoted to Logan or joining a few of the guys he’d made friends with—Jesse, Clay, and Cameron O’Connor, the local contractor—for a beer or two. He’d had a few dates since moving here, but he hadn’t met anyone who’d interested him enough to spend much time with and he’d never been one for casual dating. Small talk always seemed like a waste of time to him. He knew some people were pretty good at it, but he wasn’t one of them. If he occasionally felt pangs of loneliness, well, everyone got lonely from time to time, right? As far as he could see, one-night stands in a small town like St. Dennis could only lead to trouble. If the right woman came along, one that turned his heart as well as his head, he wouldn’t walk away. That just hadn’t happened yet, and Jason wasn’t one to use up valuable time worrying about something he couldn’t control.
The important thing right now was that his business was growing. Those few months between selling his old business and establishing the new had been torture. He’d been focused on work since he was fifteen, and without that focus to give him an anchor, he’d felt adrift. He loved what he did and he was really good at it. Back in Florida, his landscape designs had won competitions. He was looking forward to building Bowers for Landscape into an award-winning firm on the Eastern Shore as well.
All in good time, he reminded himself as he turned the truck around on the broken concrete that he’d replace once he held the deed in his hand. Right now, he had a crew to get working and later this morning, a meeting with old Curtis Enright, who’d asked him to stop by this morning to go over a special project.
Jason smiled as he headed back out River Road. He had a full day ahead of him, dreams that were becoming reality, and a feeling that something … something was on its way.
Life was good.
Chapter 3
“FOR some reason, I always think the drive to St. Dennis takes less time than it does.” Sophie took a seat at her brother’s kitchen table and sipped the coffee he’d just poured for her. After leaving her home before dawn, it felt good to finally have arrived at her destination.
“Why didn’t you fly instead of exhausting yourself driving all that way?” Jesse leaned back against the counter.
Sophie shrugged. “I guess I just wanted some time alone.”
“You live by yourself.” He’d pointed out the obvious.
“Not the same as having hours alone in the car. When I’m home, I’m either working on a case or sleeping.” Or snuggling with Chris, but there was no reason to mention that, now that that chapter had ended. “It was good for me to have some uninterrupted time to think. You know, put things into perspective.”
“Things like what?”
“Just stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” he persisted.
“I don’t think you’d like it.”
“Try me.”
“I’ve been thinking about making some changes in my life.” None of which you’d approve.
When she hesitated, he gestured for her to continue. “Such as …”
“Such as maybe exploring other career options.”
“Other career options?” He frowned. “What other options? I thought you liked your job. I thought you enjoyed being a prosecutor, bringing the bad guys to justice and all that.”
“Well, yeah, I do like that part,” she admitted. Choosing her words carefully, she added, “I’m just not sure that law is the right field for me, at least, not forever.”
“This has something to do with you breaking up with what’s-his-name, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe. Probably.” Time to fess up. “To be honest, yeah. But this isn’t something that hasn’t occurred to me before. It just seems that now might be the best time to consider other possibilities. You know, maybe see if there isn’t something else I’d rather do.”
“That sounds to me like a bunch of rationalized b.s.” Jesse was still frowning. “And why the rush? Why now?”
Sophie sighed. “When you get totally entrenched in something, it’s harder to move away from it. The longer you do it, the more difficult it is to give it up and try something else.” She averted her eyes. “I just feel that if I don’t do something now, I never will. I’ll be a lawyer forever.”
“And that would be bad because …?”
“Because maybe I’d be happier doing something else. Maybe law really isn’t the right thing for me.”
“Like I said, rationalized b.s.”
“Jess, I need a change.”
“This guy really did a number on you, didn’t he.”
“Yeah. He did. But the situation has also made me think about some things that I’ve been avoiding.”
Brother and sister stared at each other for a long moment.
“Look, the truth is, I went to law school because I thought that was what was expected of me. You, Dad, Mom … everyone in the family is a lawyer. Okay, Dad’s might not be the footsteps either of us wants to follow, what with the scandal and him having been disbarred and all, but there’s you and Mom. Not to mention our grandfather and uncle and several cousins. The law is like the family business, Jess. I never thought I’d have a choice.”
“Okay. I get that part.” Jesse nodded. “Sure. But what’s the alternative? What else would you do? You’ve never done anything else.”
“Not true.” Sophie smiled. “You’re forgetting about all those summers when I worked at Shelby’s. Every year, college right through law school.”
“The diner?” Jesse choked on his coffee. “You were a short-order cook.”
“I loved it,” she confessed. “That was the best job I ever had.”
“Oh, come on …”
“Nope. I loved it. Loved it.”
“Well, hey, there’s a little dive over on River Road that might be for sale. You could always give up law and live out your short-order fantasies right here in St. Dennis.”
She set her cup down on the table and met his eyes.
“Where,” she asked, “is River Road?”
Jesse groaned. “Forget I mentioned it.”
“No. Really. Where’s River Road?”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into bringing you here,” Jesse grumbled when, fifteen minutes later, he parked in front of the old square stone building that sat in the middle of an untended lot.
“Humor me.” Sophie got out of the car the second it stopped.
“I’m trying to.” Jesse turned off the ignition. “Wait up. You don’t know what might be living around this place.”
“Like what?”
“Raccoons, rats …”
“Oooh, not raccoons! Anything but raccoons!” She feigned horror, rolling her eyes, and kept walking.
The building was perfectly square, the front door smack in the center, with big double windows on either side, both of which were boarded up. Dead vines clung to the stone as far as the second floor, and the entire front was flanked by an impressive growth of dead weeds that must have been formidable last summer. A large sign hung crookedly from the side of the building. The name of the restaurant was painted in faded green letters on what had been a white background, but dirt and debris made the sign illegible.
Sophie pointed to the sign and asked, “Can you read the name?”
“L
et me see.” Jesse pretended to look from several angles. “Yeah. I think it says D.I.V.E.”
Ignoring his sarcasm, Sophie took a few steps back and to the right, trying to get a different perspective.
“I think it says ‘Walsh’s.’ ”
“Maybe the people who owned the place.” Jesse appeared unimpressed.
“How long do you suppose it’s been boarded up?”
Jesse shrugged. “No idea. I only noticed the place the other day when I drove by on my way to drop off some papers at Dallas MacGregor’s office.”
“It still blows my mind that an A-list movie star like Dallas MacGregor lives in St. Dennis.”
“Not only lives here, but she’s got her own production company here now. She bought some old warehouses just down the road and is renovating them. She wants to make her own films here.”
“I heard about the studio.” Sophie stopped in mid-stride. “It’s going to be right down the road?”
“Yeah, about a half mile. Maybe a little less.”
“Hmmm …” She tucked away the information.
Her inspection took her around the right side of the building, where she found more boarded-up windows and a staircase that led to the second floor.
“I don’t know how stable those steps are,” Jesse cautioned when she started up the stairs.
“I just want to peek. I bet there’s an apartment up here.”
“If there is, it’s locked up, so you’re wasting your time.” Jesse looked at his watch. “And mine.”
At the top of the stairs, Sophie tried to peer through the windows, but the tissue she found in her bag was woefully inadequate to remove the amount of dirt that had built up on the glass. “I can’t see much,” she called down to Jesse, “but it looks like it’s totally empty. What do you suppose is the story on this place?”
“I don’t know. Violet might, though.”
“Violet who works in your office?”
“She’s lived in St. Dennis forever. If there’s a story, chances are she’d know it.”