by Lynn Cahoon
The name sounded familiar, but I doubted I could match the face with the name. I breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t been Nick. Sadie would have been heartbroken.
Greg slipped my plate onto one of the vintage TV trays we used outside when we grilled, which was most nights anymore. I’d found them when we’d taken a Saturday to Bakersfield trip and hit the thrift stores. “The girl’s new to town, Lisa Brewer. She works at The Castle and snuck the boy in before closing.”
My heart sank. Sadie wouldn’t be upset at the news, but Nick would be when he found out his “girlfriend” was playing house with Mike. Maybe the upcoming breakup was a good thing. I knew from personal experience, when you’re cheated on, betrayal hits hard, even when you’re better off without the person in your life.
Greg waved his fork at my plate. “You not hungry or something?”
I took a bite of the tuna and sighed. The man could cook. The rest of his attributes aside, like the fact he could kiss the shoes off my feet and his wicked sense of humor, I’d keep him around for his cooking skills alone. “Amazing.”
Greg smiled and bent his head back over his plate. “That’s better. A man likes a little appreciation now and then.”
We ate in silence. Then I brought the subject back up after I’d finished the last clam in my bucket. “Nick Michael is or was dating that girl, Lisa.”
Greg shrugged. “Not my business who’s sleeping with whom. You know that. But I guess by Monday when school starts, the kid will know his girlfriend had a fling. If not before.”
“At least Sadie will be happy if they break up. She thinks the girl is trouble.” I stood and took his plate. “You want a beer now?”
“I’d rather have one of those brownies I saw in your fridge. And maybe some coffee?” He stood and held the door open for me.
“We can make that happen.” I stood on my toes and kissed his lips quickly as I passed.
Greg called for Emma and as he closed the door, I wondered when we’d become this couple. Comfortable in our routines and each other. Both of us were wary of the “m” word, having been married before to people who hadn’t taken their vows of monogamy seriously. And we hadn’t been dating long. But I couldn’t deny we were a couple. A smile curved on my lips.
Greg noticed and came up behind me, putting his arms around my waist. “What are you thinking about?”
I poured water into the coffeemaker and turned the machine on, stalling to think about what I was going to say. Finally, I went with the obvious. “Us.”
He turned me around, leaned in, and kissed me. Long, soft, but urgent. The kiss offered so much more. I reached up and locked my hands around his neck and then heard the bell at the front door. Emma barked and ran to sit in front of the door. I heard her gentle whine.
Pulling away from the kiss, I put my hands on Greg’s chest.
“Do you have to answer that?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Unless you want a call to the police office reporting our lack of response and Toby showing up here.” I smiled and stepped away from him. “She won’t give up.”
“Who?” Greg followed me into the living room.
I swung open the door. “Aunt Jackie.”
My aunt burst into the room and shoved a box into my hands. The good thing about her visits was that she never came empty-handed. The bad thing was it was usually something amazing from the store, so my thoughts of skipping my run tomorrow got revised. I peeked into the box: Chocolate Dream Pie from Pies on the Fly. Kissing my aunt on the cheek, I pointed to the kitchen. “Coffee’s started.”
She glanced at Greg. “Standing Saturday date has turned into making my niece cook once a week?”
He laughed. “Hey, I cooked. And with everything that’s going on, taking off for a real night out isn’t doable right now.” He shrugged, then added, “If it’s any of your business.”
“Everything about my niece is my business,” Jackie grumbled, then walked into the kitchen, expecting us to follow.
“You’ll get used to it.” I grinned, taking Greg’s hand and pulling him into the kitchen. Emma followed my aunt. The dog loved her. I was starting to feel like the dog loved a lot of people more than me, but maybe I was just always there.
Jackie had already poured three cups of coffee, sat out plates and silverware, and was sitting at the table waiting when we walked in. The woman moved fast.
“So what’s up?” I slipped into a chair and removed the pie from the box, handing the empty box to Greg. “Set that on the counter for me.”
He complied before slipping into a chair next to me. He watched as I cut wedges of the pie, sliding a plate filled with the dessert over to him. “Sadie does a mean pie.”
“She came over to the shop with four of these today. Said she’s been unable to sleep lately and wondered if we could take them off her hands.” Jackie took a fork and bit into the slice I’d cut for her.
“Poor thing.” I said, not meaning it after I took a bite, the creamy chocolate dark against the fluffy whipped cream. Sadie needed a few more sleepless nights if this was the result. “She’s probably worried sick about Nick.”
Jackie pointed a fork at Greg. “She’s convinced you’re going to knock on her door, sweep in, and arrest the boy.”
“Why would I arrest Nick? The kid’s a saint.” Greg kept his head down, focusing on the pie.
“Who knows what goes on with that woman?” Jackie smiled at me. “I did get a discount since it was over our normal order.”
Leave it to my aunt to make it seem like an inconvenience to take the offered pies. I would have probably paid Sadie double for the pain and suffering she’d experienced; Jackie, on the other hand, asked for a markdown.
“I’m sure we’ll have no trouble selling these.” I shook my head.
“Not true. We don’t open tomorrow and who knows what shape they’ll be in on Tuesday.” Jackie finished off her pie and leaned back to take a sip of coffee. “But I’m not here to talk about the shop.”
“Really?” Greg drawled. “I figured that would be the only reason to show up late on a Saturday night. Uninvited.”
“Eat another piece of pie and shut up.” Jackie shot back, a smile softening her words.
“As you order.” Greg pulled the pie plate closer and served himself a slice. His phone buzzed. Glancing at the display, he groaned. “Toby. I’ve got to take this.”
He stepped into the living room, taking his pie with him. Smiling, I turned back to Jackie. “So why are you here?”
“I’ve been frantic thinking about going out with Josh. Seriously, could you even imagine us as a couple?” Jackie shook her head.
“You don’t have to date him forever.” I reached over and put my hand on hers. “Just one date. And then he says he’ll show me the evidence against the mission wall.”
“Ted Bundy used to tell people just one date, too. And look how that turned out.” Jackie raised her eyebrows.
I sighed. I needed to know what Josh had, sooner than later. “Look, would it make you feel better if we did a double date? You and Josh and me and Greg?”
Jackie peered at me like I’d solved an advanced algebra problem. “You sure? I mean, I wouldn’t want to put you two out from this cozy domestication.”
“I need to know what evidence they have against the wall. I hate to say this, but I’d go out with the man myself if I thought it would help.” I leaned back, pushing the plate away, even though I desperately wanted another slice. My ankle throbbed. What the heck had I run into?
“You’d date who?” Greg turned off his phone and put his arm around me. “Do I need to be worried here?”
Bending my head back, I puckered for a kiss. “Only if you forget my birthday. Or our anniversary. Or Saint Patrick’s Day. I’m a sucker for green food.”
Greg kissed me gently, then took the empty plates off the table and slipped them into the sink. A total keeper. “I’m confused. We have an anniversary? I thought those happened after the whole propo
sal and marriage thing.”
“We have lots of anniversaries.” I held up my hand and started counting on my fingers. “The day we met, our first date, our first real party together …”
Greg laughed and added, “The day you let me get to second base.”
“Whoa, hold on there, way too much information for this old woman.” Jackie finished her coffee and took the cup to the sink, where Greg rinsed and slipped it into the dishwasher along with the plates. “I guess I’ll see the two of you on our double date.”
Greg walked over and got his own cup, filling it from the pot. He held the pot up and with a motion, asked if I wanted more. When I nodded, he walked over and refilled my cup. He glanced down at me. “Do I want to ask?”
My aunt crossed the kitchen and gave me a hug. “You might want to bring the boy up to speed, dear. It’s your party.”
I watched my aunt leave and waited until I heard the front door close behind her. Then I turned and faced Greg. “Josh is blackmailing me. If Jackie goes out with him, he’ll show me the evidence they were going to give the historical commission.”
“I don’t think that’s the legal definition of blackmail.” Greg pulled me to my feet. “You want to watch a movie?”
I nodded, limping to the living room with him. “Can you get me some painkillers from the bathroom?”
“Heavy duty or over the counter?”
“Over the counter. Anything stronger and I’ll be snoring in ten minutes max.” I eased down into the couch.
“So what difference would that be? You usually sleep through our movie nights,” Greg teased.
I threw a couch pillow at him. “Snot.”
“Angel,” he countered.
It’s hard to be mad at a man who calls you names like that.
CHAPTER 9
Josh appeared to be having a heart attack, his face beet red. He slipped into a chair next to a large rolltop desk I’d been considering for the shop, until I glanced at the sales price. I didn’t want to have to even think about performing CPR on the guy. “Are you okay?”
He pulled an off-white handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his brow. While he pulled himself together, I peeked over at the counter. The folder with the receipts from Craig had been put away. I quickly refocused my attention on Josh. He was nodding, then he glanced up at me. He swallowed, then in a voice sounding like it came from a squeaky toy rather than the heavyset man in front of me, he whispered, “I never thought she’d agree.”
Weird. Then why did he ask me to ask? Pushing the thought away, I took advantage of my upper hand and Josh’s apparent shock. “There are some conditions. It’s a double date. You can’t touch her.” My mind raced, thinking of other stipulations to push the situation. “And I get to see the evidence now, before the deal is set.”
“What’s to stop you from backing out?” Josh narrowed his eyes and watched me, suspicion in his gaze.
“Greg will hold us accountable. No way would he want the mayor to find out he welched on a deal.” Which was only partly true. Greg had made his feelings clear on the subject. I already owed him for the outing with Hank and Amy. However, I’d keep my end of the bargain. But I didn’t trust Josh to keep his once he got what he wanted. “That’s the deal, take it or leave it, I don’t care. But we won’t be having this conversation a second time.”
“Hold on, let me think.” Josh leaned back in the wooden chair and I thought I heard the wood groan under his weight. Apparently either it was common or Josh was deaf when he had on his thinking cap.
While he pondered the deal, I pretended to step closer to the cash register to thumb through a box of vintage Life magazines. I slipped the receipts I’d copied back at the shop into my right hand, outside of Josh’s view. All I needed to do was reach over the top of the counter. I inched my arm upward, then jerked back when Josh spoke. The thick receipt paper slipped through my hands. “Okay. But I get to pick the restaurant. And I’m only buying mine and your aunt’s dinner. The two of you have to pay for your own.” Josh tapped the desk with his portly finger.
“That’s fine. Next Friday night, we’ll meet at the shop.” I kicked the papers under the counter and walked back toward Josh. “So what were you going to show the commission?”
“Not going to, am going to show the commission. Just because Craig is gone”—Josh paused and eyed me like it was my fault Craig Morgan was dead. After a couple of beats, he continued—“just because it’s only me now, doesn’t mean I’m not going to honor his final wishes.”
Even if it burns me in the process? I wondered. But I bit my tongue. I was making progress with the man, even if it was at a glacier pace.
He nodded to the back. “I’ve got the journal in my office safe.” He pulled himself to his feet and lumbered to the back of the building. I followed, not knowing if I’d been invited or not, but he didn’t stop me, so I must have guessed correctly.
My phone buzzed with a text message. Glancing down, I saw Greg’s quick note: Heading to Bakerstown, will be back soon. Need anything?
I typed a quick response asking him to stop at the bakery and pick up an assortment of muffins and several loaves of French bread. Okay, so it was a shopping list, but I did text “thanks” at the end. The man knew how to stay on my good side; mostly, it involved food. Fresh loaf bread was one of my favorite things in the world. Besides my boyfriend.
Josh stood behind his desk watching me. When I clicked off the phone and went into the small, dark office, he shook his head. “You need to stop wasting busy people’s time. Anyway, here we are.”
I glanced at the small, leather-bound book sitting on a piece of parchment on the desktop. Carefully, Josh opened the book and went right to the page he’d been looking for. He spun the parchment around so I could see the hand-drawn map. Leaning down, I could make out the ocean and several crude marks. The words weren’t in English.
There in the middle of the page, right where the current courthouse would stand if this was a map of South Cove, was an X mark and the words, Misión de estrellas meridionales. I glanced up at Josh. “You think this is the mission site? City Hall?”
“I don’t think, I know. The map shows the location of the mission is a good three miles from your house. Maybe your wall is the residuals of a long-ago barn. But it’s clearly not the mission. The mission no longer exists.”
Walking down the street toward the diner, my thoughts swirled around Josh’s evidence. I’d taken several shots of the page with my cell phone until Josh protested the light from the flash might damage the paper or ink. What should I do with the photos? Greg could send the photos to his university professor friend to verify the wording. I could go to Frank and press him to speed up the certification, but what if Josh turned out to be right?
Then my wall would go back to being a garden wall and I could go back to running my business. Maybe even put up a hammock out near the site for a reading cove.
But what if Josh was wrong, and Frank didn’t find out in time? Then a national historic site would have been ignored and destroyed. I couldn’t just leave it to someone else to decide. I’d come to love the little stone wall. Stupid, I know, but it meant a lot to me. And if it was the original mission site, it had a right to survive.
Besides, Craig couldn’t be right. Not this time. I pulled the door open to the almost full restaurant, waved at Lille behind the counter, who responded with a dirty look. Great, this should be a fun breakfast. When Lille was in a mood, the entire dining room knew it. Often people from town came into the shop for dessert after being run out of the diner by the grumpy owner. I wasn’t complaining; bad customer service that threw business my way was good. I felt bad for Lille. Most of the time, her bad moods were caused by one thing. Or, more accurately, one man—Ray Stewart.
I slipped into the booth across from Amy, who was on her cell. She air-kissed me while still talking to Hank.
“A drive down the coast sounds perfect.” Amy grinned. “Sure, we can take my truck. I’ve been me
aning to get it out anyway.”
Amy was a California girl through and through. She reeked granola. Her Datsun truck was a 1970 something and had fewer miles on it than my aunt’s leased sedan she traded in every couple years. I played with my fork, waiting for her to finish her call.
“Look, Jill’s here. I’ll see you in two hours?” Amy giggled as she listened. “Okay, an hour. But I might be late. Girl talk takes time, you know.”
Gag me, I thought as I refolded the paper napkin. How in the world was this guy turning my surfing-loving friend into his Stepford girlfriend? Keep your mouth shut was going to have to be my mantra for the next hour. Amy finished her call.
“Sorry about that. Hank and I are taking a drive up the coast.” Amy closed her phone and laid it on the table.
“Sounds nice,” I said, trying to mean it. I asked another question, just to seem interested. “What else are you doing?”
Amy sighed. “I guess he has a friend who has to move out of his apartment.”
I’d taken an unfortunate sip of water right then and I coughed the water out of my nose. Grabbing my napkin, I stared at her. “Your big date is helping someone move? Using your truck?”
“Don’t act like that. It’s sweet he wants to help out a friend. It’s a good trait in a person.” Amy studied her menu, avoiding my stare.
“Sometimes I think you’re too nice for your own good.” I leaned forward, ready to tick off the long list of why Hank wasn’t the one and why Amy should run while she still had a chance. A cup crashed in front of me. Jumping back, the steam from the coffee pouring into the cup in front of me felt like it had been brewed on the sun. “Hey, watch it.”
Taking my napkin, I wiped up the spilled coffee and looked up into Lille’s face. Her eyes burned. “Sorry,” she barked. She leaned close to me. “Look, you stay away from Ray, you hear me?”
I frowned and shook my head. “Lille, I’m not interested in Ray. I’m dating Greg. The police detective?”
