by Lynn Cahoon
“You’re not old,” David chided her, his voice growing soft at the end. The man seemed to care for his boss, maybe a little too much, in my opinion. But as I watched them walk out of the shop together, I knew Regina had at least one person watching her back. Sometimes, one was all you needed.
“That woman is deeply depressed.” Jackie straightened the flyers by the register.
I kept watching the two as they walked toward the bed-and-breakfast. “I wonder what brought her to South Cove?”
“Probably a cheating husband. Married couples around her age, they all go off the reservation at least once.”
“That’s pretty cynical.” I watched my aunt as she ignored my gaze.
“Just being realistic.” Jackie filled her travel cup and grabbed a chocolate pastry. “I’m heading upstairs for some me time before my shift. Let me know if you need anything.”
I wondered if there had been problems in the perfect marriage she had with Uncle Ted. Not my business, I thought as I took the box of flyers to the storeroom in the back. Wednesday mornings were slow, so after I’d gotten the work area supplied for the day, I grabbed a slice of Sadie’s pumpkin pie, topped off my coffee, and sat down to read. Today I chose one of the books Regina had purchased for David, a love story with two ill-fated souls, coming back to the world, over and over, and still missing each other. Not recognizing their soul mate until it was too late. I’d heard good reviews of the story, but had avoided reading it, mostly because I’m impatient with my happily-ever-afters. I don’t want to wade through years, let alone lifetimes, for two people to make it work.
I’d gotten halfway through the book when Toby arrived for his shift. I wiped tears from my eyes and put a bookmark into the paperback. I’d finish it tonight at home … where I could sob in private.
“Good book?” Toby slipped behind the counter and tossed his jacket into the back room. It probably landed on my desk. The one covered with boxes of books and other shop supplies. I did most of my bookwork for the shop at home.
“There’s a coatrack back there, you know.” I cleaned up my plate and cup from my breakfast, depositing them into the sink on my way to the back room.
Toby slipped on his apron and turned on the water to wash his hands. “I know. I just don’t want to walk that far.”
I grabbed my purse from the top of the desk, hung up Toby’s lightweight jacket, and returned to the front of the shop. “You expect people to take care of you.”
He shrugged. “You hung up my jacket when you went to the back. So I guess I’m not wrong in my assumption.”
“You drive me crazy sometimes.” I checked the time. I was meeting Amy for lunch in fifteen minutes. “So, Elisa has a kid?”
Toby nodded. “Isabella. She’s five. Looks like a little princess but loves playing in the dirt with the neighbor boy’s Tonka trucks. I think she’s going to be a race car driver when she grows up.”
I grabbed one of the flyers. “I forgot. Jackie said you were bringing her in for pictures.” I studied the little girl so focused on the book in her lap. “Is this her?”
Toby grinned. “Yep. She was a wild thing most of the time, then we sat down for some coffee and to look over the pictures we’d already shot. After we stopped paying attention to her, she sat down and started reading. That’s when Elisa snapped that photo.”
“She reads?” I didn’t know much about five-year-olds.
He shrugged. “She knows a lot of words. I read to her after dinner on nights I visit. She’s pretty smart, that one.”
“Sounds like it.” I patted Toby’s arm as I passed by. “She clearly has your number.”
As I walked down the still-undecorated streets, I thought about the look of pride that had shown on Toby’s face as he talked about Isabella. I hoped Elisa turned out to be the one, because if this relationship went sour it might just break Toby’s heart this time. The boy was invested in the two of them. The man, I corrected myself. And for the first time when I thought of my barista, I thought the word might just describe him.
Amy had already claimed our favorite booth when I arrived at Diamond Lille’s. I watched her tapping keys on her phone, texting someone. She bit her bottom lip as she texted, not a normal Amy gesture. I slid into the opposite bench, tucking my purse onto the seat next to me. I waited for her to finish before I spoke. “Happy Camel Day.”
She smiled, but not very wide. “I’ve been looking forward to our lunch since Justin dropped me off last night. I would have called you, but it was so late.”
“Wait, what’s going on?” I pushed away the menu I’d been studying even though we’d eaten at Lille’s at least once a week since I’d move to South Cove five years ago. Last summer, I’d worried that Lille might ban me from the only restaurant other than my coffee shop within ten miles. She’d believed I had been trying to steal away her loser boyfriend. Luckily, his arrest and my almost demise allowed her to tolerate me coming into the diner. A forgiveness that made me happy, especially on Wednesdays when the daily soup was a loaded potato bowl of heaven.
Carrie stood by the table, snapping a piece of gum. I’d heard through the grapevine that the waitress was two weeks into her third try to give up smoking. The last two attempts had ended badly when a customer had gotten on her last nerve, pushing her out to the sidewalk. She’d confronted the first tourist who even looked like they could be harboring a cigarette pack in their coat pocket. Carrie narrowed her eyes on Amy’s phone. “You guys ready to order or you got more phone calls to make?”
Amy pushed the phone toward the wall. “I’m ready. I’ll have a cheeseburger with onion rings. Add in a caramel chocolate shake.”
Carrie scribbled on her order sheet. She shot a look at me.
“Bowl of potato soup and a dinner salad, bleu cheese on the side.” I waited for a split second, then decided against the lower calorie choice. “And a Cherry Coke.”
Carrie harrumphed and walked back to the kitchen, grabbing empty plates on her way. I breathed a sigh of relief when she slipped behind the counter and into the kitchen.
I leaned over the table. “I like her better when she smokes.”
Amy waved the comment away. “Wait a few weeks and she’ll be back to normal, one way or the other.”
“I’m not sure if we can survive a few days, let alone weeks.” I sipped water waiting for my real drink to arrive. A few minutes later, another waitress dropped off our drinks. As I took a sip of the sweet syrupy soda, the caffeine hit made me shiver. I focused back on my friend. Justin was a history professor by day and a cool surfer dude at night and weekends. He was perfect for her. “So, you and Justin fighting about where the best waves hit?”
Amy narrowed her eyes. “We aren’t fighting.”
Confused, I asked the follow-up: “Then why did you need to talk to me so bad? Something with work?”
She shook her head. “It’s Justin.”
My head was spinning like on my favorite ride at the carnivals, the Tilt-a-Whirl. “Wait, you just said you weren’t fighting.”
“We aren’t.” Amy sniffed and grabbed a handful of thin paper napkins from the silver holder on the table. She blew her nose, loudly.
“Then what’s wrong with Justin?” I prayed he wasn’t sick, or dying, or secretly married. No, that would be a fight, I was sure.
Amy’s eyes widened. “He wants me to go to Missouri for Christmas.”
I tried to think of anything good to say about Missouri, but honestly, I’d never even been to the state, so I said the first thing that came into my mind. “St. Louis is in Missouri.”
“It’s not St. Louis. He’s taking me to a little town in the middle of nowhere.” She took a sip of her milk shake, then calmed, said the offending words again. “No. Where.”
“I don’t understand, just tell him you don’t want to go to Missouri for Christmas. Maybe he thinks it’s a good vacation, but what about Cancun? Now, that would be one amazing Christmas. Tell him Mexico would be better.”
“You don’t get it. He’s from Missouri.” Amy waited for a second, then when she was convinced I still didn’t understand her words, added. “He wants to take me home for Christmas. To meet his parents.”
“Oh.” My words dried up as I considered her dilemma. Meeting the parents was a big deal. Especially when the parents lived halfway across the country. Amy looked lost and afraid, sitting across from me, her short blond hair and thin body giving her a waifish look. And the way she was downing that milk shake completed the package. “I didn’t realize you guys were already that serious.”
“Exactly. I didn’t, either. I mean, we have fun. We like the same activities. He’s funny, charming, intelligent.” Amy slowed.
“I can see why you’re upset. Justin sounds like the perfect catch. Who wouldn’t be scared to meet his folks? There has to be something wrong with the guy. Maybe it’s the family bonds.” And then, just because I couldn’t help myself, I added, “You never know what skeletons are in someone’s family tree.”
“You mean, real bodies?” Amy leaned forward, fascinated by my words. “Oh God.”
Laughing, I tapped the table. “Earth to Amy. This is sweet Justin we’re talking about. I was kidding.”
Amy stirred her shake with her straw, focusing on the milk swirl she was creating. “I still don’t want to meet them. It’s too soon.” She caught my gaze. “Have you met Greg’s parents yet?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“See. It’s creepy, right?” Amy slumped back into her seat, the milk shake decimated.
I shook my head. “Actually, it’s sweet. I haven’t met Greg’s parents because they’ve passed away.”
Carrie dropped our plates in front of us. “Need anything else?”
I shook my head. Amy didn’t even try to make eye contact.
“You two are sure in a snit today.” Carrie spun around and headed back to the kitchen, ignoring a man at a nearby table trying to get her attention.
I bit back a smile. “So, back to the Justin problem. I think you should say yes. You might enjoy the trip.”
Amy bit into her cheeseburger, ignoring my comment. Finally, when she came up for air, she waved a French fry at me. “You know what happens when I meet parents. They never like me.”
“One set of parents, one time. And he was as crazy as his mother. You dodged the bullet on that one. You should send that woman a thank-you note for keeping you away from her Norman Bates–reincarnated son.” I lifted a spoonful of the soup to my mouth. Creamy sauce, potatoes, cheese, sour cream, crunchy bacon bits: heaven.
I’d talked Amy out of running away to live in an undisclosed European castle before lunch was over, but I had to agree, getting away from the hustle of the holidays sounded like a reasonable plan to me. Especially with Tina on my butt for not serving as her right-hand man for this entire festival. Honestly, Darla had been the best choice for years because she lived to do this kind of crap.
As we left the diner, Amy hugged me. “Thanks for being there for me.” She turned toward City Hall, then stopped. “I almost forgot. The mayor asked me to give this to you. I guess it’s Tina’s list of festival requirements for shop owners. Just wait until you read number twelve. You are going to die laughing.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” I shoved the envelope into my purse. I’d open it tomorrow during my morning shift. When I was working. Right now, I was heading home, grabbing a bottle of wine and a book, and heading upstairs to my bathtub to soak, pre-nap time. And if I slept all evening, who cared.
I almost skipped home, I felt so giddy about my planned afternoon. As I walked up the sidewalk to my house, I noticed a person sitting on the porch in my white rocker swing. My pace slowed as I tried to see who it was. Opening the gate to the house, the person regarded me as I walked up the sidewalk.
Marie Jones stood to greet me. “We need to talk.”
CHAPTER 13
A few minutes later, we were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on cinnamon apple tea and still making polite small talk. Emma sat outside on the porch, looking in the glass screen door wanting to be let in so she could either curl up on her bed or slather wet dog kisses on the visitor. I worried about the latter, so I kept her outside. As I watched, she finally made three circles and laid down, her head between her front paws, clearly annoyed with me.
“Pretty dog,” Marie said, nodding at Emma’s now-prone shape. “I had a golden as a child. Or I guess my dad did. He hunted.”
“You’ve never mentioned your folks. Do they live close?” I was curious, mostly because I knew she wouldn’t tell me.
Marie lips twitched. She took a sip of the tea, then set the cup down. “We both know I haven’t seen my family in a long, long time.” She focused on me, cocking her head quizzically. “I just don’t know how you found out.”
So we were talking about the Ted connection. I leaned forward. “When the media ran the stories on Ted’s death, most also mentioned the sad tale about his wife disappearing. The picture they ran was a dead ringer for a younger you. I kept digging.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Marie said flatly. “Not that I hadn’t thought about it, especially after he showed up here. Seriously, what were the chances of him just happening to be in the same town clear across the county? The only luck I’ve ever had was bad. And Ted’s appearance was the worst thing that could have happened.”
I considered keeping quiet, but I couldn’t stop myself from admitting this one tidbit. “Ted hired a private investigator to find you. He must have been still looking after all these years.”
Marie uttered a short, tired laugh. “The man was a bulldog about things he considered his property. Like toys, money, and me.”
“He must have been mad you took the money?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t ask for the ransom. All I wanted was out. Ted must have figured out a way to get part of his inheritance early.”
I felt bad for the woman, hiding all these years in plain sight. “Why did you leave? I mean, all those years ago.”
“Same story as a lot of women. He liked to hit me. Apologized, bought me gifts, then when he’d get angry about some slight caused by anyone, including the doorman at our apartment, he would hit me again. I got tired of the cycle.” She studied me, gauging my level of belief. “I know, you’re thinking he’s from a good family, we were wealthy, it couldn’t be true.”
“Spousal abuse happens in all families.” I knew this to be true. As a family law attorney, I’d seen my share of abused wives. Ones who tried to escape, only to be sucked back in by the heartfelt apologies. Once I’d even suspected an estranged husband of killing his wife who’d been to see me for divorce papers the day before. Of course, no one could prove a thing, so the police let him go.
“My mother told me I’d made my bed and to go home and lie in it.” Marie pursed her lips. “I never said another word to her. When I’d made my plan, disappearing seemed to be the only alternative. I left so I could live.”
“You need to tell Greg.” I sipped my tea and watched her face.
She twisted her lips, “I know. I’m on my way there now. I just wanted to let you know. I came off a little rude the other night at class.”
“I was treading on your secret. You had a right to shut me down.” Actually, I was surprised she had even showed up here now. Then the reason for her visit became clear. “You want to know how much I’ve told Greg so you can protect yourself.”
Red spots appeared on Marie’s cheeks. “Wouldn’t you want to know? I mean, if you were me? So, yeah, I’m curious. How much of your pillow talk with our town detective was about me and my possible motives to kill my ex-husband?”
“Did I tell him my theories? Yes. Did I tell him what I heard at Lille’s? Of course. But only because someone threw a dead rabbit on my porch with a note to stop snooping.” I tapped the table with my finger. “That was totally uncool.”
Marie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t threaten you. I would never sink to any level of hostili
ty. That’s part of the reason I moved to California. I lived in a New Age commune for years before I started the shop. I’m very anti-violence.”
I’d seen the way she bent metal at the shop. I wasn’t totally convinced of Marie’s innocence, but I wasn’t going to argue the point as she sat in my kitchen. “Look, I’ve got things to get done. Did you need something else?”
She stood and glanced around the kitchen. “You’ve done a nice job with the remodeling. I visited Miss Emily a few times before she passed.”
The shock of that hit me. “You knew Miss Emily?”
Marie smiled, this time with her eyes as well as the rest of her face. “You didn’t think you were her only project now, did you? She helped me when I first moved into South Cove. I was scared living on my own. She convinced me that Ted would never find me here.” She stood and picked up her purse, hanging the strap over her shoulder. “I guess she was wrong.”
As I watched Marie walk back to the road, I wondered how many other lives Miss Emily had changed through the years. Trying to get someone to believe in themselves or in their personal power wasn’t easy. I know how long it took me to understand my own worth. Now Marie was free from the source of the fear. Ted couldn’t hurt her anymore. So, why did she still look like she expected someone to run her down in the street?
I didn’t need Greg’s tests to prove that Marie wasn’t behind the threat. I could see it in her demeanor. But if Marie hadn’t left the dead rabbit on my doorstep, who had?
Grabbing my book, a glass, and the bottle of wine, I headed upstairs to start my mini at-home spa treatment. Mostly soak and sip, but some women paid big bucks for sessions that weren’t half as effective. I poured a jasmine bubble bath into the steaming water, making Emma sneeze.
“You know you’re not getting in the tub with me, right?” I rubbed under her chin as she stared at me. She wasn’t in love with baths, but she loved swimming in the ocean when we went on runs. A habit requiring I give her more frequent baths to keep Emma from smelling like salt water. Sometimes life was a vicious circle. The things we love can draw us nearer to the things we hate. I slipped out of my clothes, filled my glass, and slid into the almost too hot water. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the perfect feeling.
