The phone on his desk buzzed and he punched the intercom button. Caroline’s cheerful voice sounded through the speaker, “Line two for you Sheriff.”
“Thanks, I got it.” He picked up the receiver and said, “Sinclair here.” The voice on the other end of the line made him smile, despite his frustrating morning.
“Good morning, sheriff.” Gillian said.
“I wouldn’t call it good, but it’s getting better as we speak.”
“Glad I could be of service.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Sandy called and told me that you’d arranged for her to see a doctor.”
“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Used to this sort of thing. He’ll treat her right and if there is any evidence to find, he’s the guy to find it.”
“Good. She’s asked if I could come with her. Would that be okay?”
“I think that would be a good idea. You’ve helped her a lot already. Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“I’ll be fine.” She sounded confident and Travis’ respect for her increased even more.
“Good. I’ve been reviewing the case file on your attack. The police were pretty thorough; I couldn’t find any loose ends but I’m going to keep looking.”
“Thanks, but don’t you think Sandy should be the first priority?”
He took a deep breath and explained, “I think there could be a connection. It’s too much of a coincidence that this happened so soon after you arrived.”
He regretted his words when he heard nothing but silence on the other end of the line. There was no smile in her voice now. “This could be because of me?”
“No way, Gillian. Don’t even start to go there. This is because of him. You were a victim, too. Everything we said to Sandy last night about not blaming herself, applies to you as well.” He continued in a gentle but persuasive voice, “You are not responsible for the actions of some sick bastard.” When she said nothing, he firmly pressed on, “Do you hear me? This is because of him, not you.”
“Okay.” She sounded less than convinced and Travis sighed.
“Don’t do this, Gilly. You will achieve nothing by blaming yourself.”
Her voice sounded over the line, a little steadier this time. “You’re right. Guilt will get me nowhere. Sandy’s appointment is later today. I’ll see you soon.”
“Count on it.” He promised. After he’d hung up, Travis was struck by how important she’d become to him in such a short time; how her every mood effected him. He’d wanted her from the first moment, but that was no big surprise. She was a beautiful woman and he’d been reacting naturally, but now, it was more than just physical. He wondered how it had snuck up on him. It had occurred to him to resist it, but there was a part of him that knew his efforts would be wasted. She’d gotten under his skin and he was determined to make the feeling mutual. Misery loved company and he had no intention of being lonely.
* * * *
Gillian’s hand trembled as she hung up the phone. She hadn’t really considered the possibility that she could be connected to Sandy’s attack. Had he followed her to New Crescent? Was her recent feeling of security merely imagined? Sensing his mistress’s distress, Hank sidled up to her and rested his head in her lap. Absently, she stroked his white fur, barely aware of the comfort he offered her.
The person who attacked her had changed her life. That fact did not make her happy; but she wasn’t displeased with the direction her life had taken since her recovery.
At least here in New Crescent, she knew the sheriff personally and he seemed particularly motivated to keep her safe. City cops had too much on their plates. For them, the crime perpetrated upon her was just one of many. Understandably, she’d hardly be their priority. Hell, they’d probably not even remember her, even if she were to show up and ask them for a progress report. Here she had what could be called her very own protector. Part of her rebelled at the idea she needed a protector, but her more practical side was grateful; especially when it was Travis Sinclair doing the watching.
The ringing of the phone startled her and she picked it up after two rings. Reggie wasted no time getting to the purpose of her call.
“How do you feel about designing the announcement for Aunt Ernestine’s birthday bash?”
“I’d love to.”
“I knew you’d say that. I had dinner with Travis’s mother and father last night and they were talking about the party. I’m afraid I kinda offered your services for the design. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. It will be good to get back at it. I’ve done nothing since moving here.”
“Good. I’ll call Ruth and tell her we’ll come over for lunch. She can fill you in on all the plans and you can get an idea of what she’s looking for.”
“Travis’s mother?” was all Gillian could say.
“She’s wonderful. You’re going to love her. Let’s say I pick you up at 12:30. Hank is invited too, of course.”
Gillian agreed and Regina rang off. What was she going to wear? Regina hadn’t told her that. It was still early. Gillian grimaced at the clock. She had far too long to stew. She decided her best bet was to do some gardening for a couple of hours. That should give her enough time to shower and get ready, but not too much time to waffle over what she should, or shouldn’t wear when she went to meet Travis’ mother.
She was rather pleased with the progress she’d made in the garden. It was far from spectacular but it made her proud nonetheless. Ernestine had shown her around what she’d planted and had introduced her to the basics of gardening. Chase McCann, bless his patient soul, filled in some holes and the rest was just instinct. Gillian loved it. She’d discovered she had a knack for growing things and it gave her a tremendous feeling of pride. Gillian found it easy to lose herself in the simple act of tending to the earth and its precious bounty. She frowned when the phone rang and briefly considered letting her voice mail pick up, but her sense of responsibility was too strong and she rushed to answer it.
Out of breath, she spoke into the receiver. “Hello.”
“Gillian.” It was Marcus. “I was just getting ready to leave a message.”
“I was in the garden.”
There was silence for a second. “That’s new. I hope you’re not doing any heavy work.”
Trust Marcus to worry about her. “No, I just do the easy stuff. How are things in the big city?”
“Things are just fine. I called to check on you. I haven’t heard from you and got a little worried.” She could hear the concern in his voice and felt guilty that she’d been neglecting him.
“I’m sorry, Marcus. I’ve just been busy getting settled in.” She was reluctant to bring up the fact she had rejected his hospitality in favor of the house on the cliff so she rushed on. “When do you think you can get away for a visit?”
“I was planning on taking next weekend off, for a change. Feel like reacquainting me with my home town?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Good. I’ve got to go now. I’ll see you next Saturday. I’ll call later in the week and let you know when I’ll be arriving. I’m looking forward to seeing you Gillian. Call me if you need me.”
“Thanks, Marcus. Bye.” She hung up, feeling more than a little guilty.
Marcus had been there for her after the attack and here she was getting on with her life and leaving him behind. In fact, she hadn’t thought much about him at all these past few days. Her mind had been full of Sandy and her heart had been full of Travis. She hoped she wasn’t the kind of woman who could so easily flit from man to man. Before she had laid eyes on Travis, she’d felt the stirrings of desire for Marcus and in his own subtle way, he’d given her every indication that he’d welcome it. Recently she’d come to understand that the feelings Marcus inspired in her were as insignificant as a single drop of rain was to a tidal wave. She fervently hoped that she wouldn’t have to hurt his feelings. Perhaps Reggie would be of assistance there. She hoped so. Gillian liked the idea of Reggie and Marcus together. It was much ea
sier to think of her two friends sharing something special than it was to mull over her relationship with Travis. She couldn’t define what she had with him, so she forced the thought aside and walked back to her garden. Hank watched over her.
The witching hour struck sooner than Gillian imagined. She peeled off her grubby clothes and jumped in the shower. Her favorite lavender scented products washed the soil and sweat off her body, leaving her hair and skin lightly fragrant and clean smelling. Sitting stark naked on her bed, she surveyed the contents of her closet. She knew next to nothing about Sunday lunch at the Sinclairs so she made a safe choice: a white sundress with a delicate, green, leaf motif made of crepe georgette. It left her tanned arms and shoulders bare, but maintained her modesty and she wore low- heeled slides. For jewelry, she chose a single pearl suspended on an invisible tether and fastened it around her long neck. She started to wrap her hair into a French chignon then decided to leave it down around her shoulders. It looked less formal that way. She kept the makeup to a minimum; the tan she’d acquired recently, lent a warm glow to her face so she didn’t need much to look her best. She studied herself in the mirror and decided that she’d made the right choices. If Mrs. Sinclair objected, that would just have to be her problem. She grabbed a thin cotton sweater as an afterthought and prepared to wait for Reggie.
She didn’t have to wait long. Reggie was early. She rounded the house with Pru in tow. Hank bounded out to greet his lady-love. Pru pretended not to notice him until he plaintively barked at her. That was all it took to have her race into the backyard with him.
“Don’t you look nice?” Regina said in greeting.
“So do you.” Gillian admired Reggie’s white linen trousers and pale blue blouse. She looked cool and elegant in the hot sun. She wore her standard three-inch heels; this time they were white, delicate sandals with little blue daisies on them. Her toenails were painted the same shell pink as were her fingernails.
She thanked Gillian for agreeing to design the announcement card.
“Ernestine’s 80th birthday party is going to be the event of the century. The Sinclair bashes are notorious. The whole town is invited and they pull out all the stops. Good old small town, New England hospitality. Ernestine will be so thrilled that you’re helping.”
“I hope I measure up.” Gillian said a little uncertainly.
“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Whatever you do, will knock their socks off. Let’s get going.”
The Sinclairs lived a short distance up the coast from Gillian’s new home. It took them only a few minutes to get there. The house was like something out of Architectural Digest. A huge, white stone mansion, situated on acres upon acres of ocean front property, it was incredible. Gillian much preferred her house on the cliff but she could still appreciate the splendor of this magnificent home and the history and tradition that came with it.
Regina drove her Land Rover up the driveway, parked beside a silver BMW 7 series and said “Ah, it looks like Bill’s home. Good, you’ll get to meet him too.”
Gillian looked at her in blind panic “That’s good? I was prepared for the mother but the father as well? Just give me a second.” She reached around and stroked Hank’s soft hair for a moment. The action brought with it the usual calm.
“You’re worrying over nothing Gill. Bill and Ruth are cool, two of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Travis and Ernestine are the tough ones, in comparison these guys are a piece of cake.”
Gillian took a deep breath and followed Reggie to the entrance. The door opened wide before they had a chance to press the doorbell. A very tall, distinguished man stood on the threshold. He could only be Travis’s father. He was powerfully built. Gillian could see that Travis had inherited his rather large size from his father’s side of the family. When he saw the two women in the doorway, William Sinclair’s face lit in a brilliant smile. He had a face that smiled often. Gillian got just a little weak in the knees when he trained that neon smile on her. He looked so much like Travis it took her a second to respond to what he was saying.
“Reggie, my girl. Twice in one week. I’m blessed.” He turned to Gillian “This must be Gillian, a great pleasure, please call me Bill. I’m sorry that I can’t stay to welcome you properly but you must come to dinner some time this week so I can make up for it.” He turned back towards the woman behind him, “Ruth, can you work out what night is best? Have a wonderful lunch ladies.” He patted both dogs briefly and said “Pru, big fella,” and was off.
Ruth Sinclair laughed as she watched her husband rush away. “That, as you may have gathered, was my husband. I’m Ruth. I’m so happy to meet you.”
“You have a beautiful home here.” Gillian said as she entered. Hank followed respectfully behind her.
“Ah, it came with the husband. I’ve made some changes here and there but I had a lot to work with. I understand that Ernestine’s house has chosen you.” She smiled her own more feminine version of devastating smile.
“I’m so lucky. I just love it so much. Hank and I feel very at home there.”
“Yes, Hank. Hello there handsome.” The elegant woman in vanilla white bent at the waist and hugged Hank soundly. He responded in kind by groaning with appreciation. “He’s a beauty. I hope he likes salmon, because that’s what we’re having for lunch. I have something chocolaty planned for dessert. I love chocolate.”
“Don’t we all?” Regina chimed in.
Chapter 13
Ruth ushered them to a beautiful, high ceiling, glass enclosed room filled with plants. She’d left the French doors open and the sea air filled the space with its fragrance. The table was draped in white fabric but the plates, napkins and flowers were alive with color. Gillian was charmed. Lunch met every expectation and Gillian found herself relaxing in Ruth’s warm company.
“Reggie tells me that you are a designer.” At Gillian’s nod, Ruth continued. “Well, we need all the help we can get with this announcement card for Ernestine. It’s an important day and we always throw a big bash for her birthday. I want everything to be perfect. My husband seems to think the printer can just whip something up for us.”
“Barbarian.” Reggie muttered and rolled her eyes.
Ruth smiled warmly. “He purposely avoids anything that might be decorative. But, surprisingly enough, he has a very good eye.”
“Ah, he’s a big old softie at heart.” Reggie said. “He just pretends to be offhanded about all of this. He loves to throw Ernestine’s parties.”
Ruth was pensive and finally said, “Travis is just like him, far more sensitive than you’d think. I know his work with the FBI was important, but he’s my son and I didn’t like him doing such dangerous work. For my part, I’m glad he’s here with us doing something he loves. He’s learned more about the evils in this world than anyone should. I’m relieved he decided to come home.”
“Well, I think New Crescent is lucky to have him as sheriff. He takes very good care of us, not that I’d tell him that,” Regina said. “Last night, he insisted on following me home and checking my place before he let me go inside. It kind of gave me the creeps, but I was glad he did it…and don’t you dare tell him I said that.”
Gillian gave a nod of quick comprehension. She knew exactly why Travis behaved in that manner but she couldn’t say anything. He was taking care of the people he cared about and she admired him for it.
“He has excellent instincts, Regina. Trust him.” Ruth said.
“I do. It’s just that I like to be independent. I don’t want to have to depend on the big, strong man all the time.”
“Sometimes it just makes good sense and it gives them something to do.” She turned to Gillian and smiled. “I’m not sure if you know about this town’s history my dear.”
“Just what little Reggie has told me, so far.” Gillian said.
Ruth was happy to provide the information. “It was founded by three very gifted sisters, Elizabeth, Morgan and Rebecca Goode. They fled to this area to avoid per
secution. You’ve heard of the Salem Witch Trials of course.” She shook her head sadly.
“In the 1690’s there was a great paranoia about witchcraft which of course now we all know was really just knowledge of nature, healing and acceptance of the powerful female connection to it. For New Crescent, the Goode sisters served as Guardians, offering sanctuary, tolerance and acceptance to all those with good hearts. Since then, every generation has its own Guardians, three powerful women who advise us, keep us safe and open-minded. We’ve been remarkably untouched by the crime and tragedies other towns have suffered. On the surface, we’re a town just like every other…but to those born here or to those with uncanny sensitivities, New Crescent is special. It calls to them, draws them close offers them acceptance and protection. It’s home.”
Ruth smiled at the look of rapt attention on Gillian’s face and laughed a little self consciously, “Some say the Guardians keep evil forces at bay. I think it just depends on how vivid your imagination tends to be. People born here, feel very connected to each other, and while they often seek their fortunes elsewhere; they always seem to come back here. Ernestine is the last Guardian and she’s getting on.” Ruth smiled gently at Reggie and Gillian. “The next three have yet to make themselves known. I’m sure they’ve been selected, it’s preordained, but I choose to trust that Ernestine knows what she’s doing and all will become clear soon.” When she stopped talking, there was silence in the room.
Finally, Ruth changed the subject and said, “You and Hank seem to be thriving in Ernestine’s old place. I knew Travis would never wear her down once she’d decided the house wasn’t for him. She could see that it was meant for you and that makes us all happy.”
“We love it. I’m so honored by her trust in me. In retrospect I realize, I wasn’t all that comfortable in Marcus Stevens’ mother’s house.”
“I don’t wonder about that at all.” Ruth said. At Regina’s look of surprise, she continued. “Don’t look at me like that, Reggie. Huh, you of all people know about that woman. Althea Stevens was a bitter, controlling woman who made everyone who loved her, miserable. I felt sorry for Marcus when he was little and I always pitied her poor husband. She sucked everyone dry. She probably left her mark on that house too.”
Trouble [New Crescent 1] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 10
