Tides of Deception (Lantern Beach Romantic Suspense Book 1)

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Tides of Deception (Lantern Beach Romantic Suspense Book 1) Page 7

by Christy Barritt


  Austin shook his head, still not buying Wes’s ideas. He didn’t think Wes did either. “What would that prove? Sure, it would slow down the progress of my work, but it wouldn’t scare people away from the house.”

  “If someone died here it might.”

  A hollow feeling formed in Austin’s gut. Maybe they were offtrack here. But someone had messed with his scaffolding. The only reason they’d do that was to hurt him.

  “I’m going to have to tell Cassidy—Chief Chambers, I should say,” Austin said, taking the cut piece of scaffolding from Wes. It was his only evidence.

  “She’ll always be Cassidy to us, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess she will.”

  Wes’s phone buzzed, and his eyes widened when he glanced at the screen.

  “Is everything okay?” Austin asked.

  Wes nodded—a little too quickly. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “Wes . . . ?” There was something he wasn’t telling Austin.

  His friend released a breath. “I’m sure it’s nothing. It was just my friend Colton.”

  “The one who works with you doing kayak tours?”

  “Yeah, he’s the one. He was down on the boardwalk last night.”

  “And?” Austin knew he shouldn’t press, but he couldn’t help himself. Everyone had so many secrets lately. Including himself.

  He needed to end that. Life was short. But he should be able to trust his inner circle with what was going on with him. Maybe Austin had been foolish not to do that in the first place.

  Wes cringed and raked a hand across the top of his head. “Colton was asking about the new guy Skye was with.”

  Austin’s spine tightened. “What?”

  “He said the two looked like more than friends. They were on a swing down on the boardwalk last night. He said they looked quite friendly.”

  Austin tried to keep a cool head. He’d known Skye and Ian had met, but he hadn’t been able to see them from where he sat parked in his truck. Skye hadn’t seemed especially starry eyed afterward.

  However, he had seen that look in Skye’s gaze yesterday. The look that said she liked Austin. That she’d wanted to kiss him. And the woman had definitely been worried about him.

  He knew Skye sometimes had that wild, unsettled look in her eyes. But would she really bounce from Austin to someone else that easily?

  He didn’t think so.

  Then why did his insides feel like they were being ripped apart at the thought of Skye being with someone else?

  He knew why.

  Because he loved her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Skye swung by Happy Hippy Produce and set out some new deliveries that had arrived this morning. The fall wasn’t always the ideal time for produce stands, but these seasonal fruits and vegetables were some of her favorites.

  Greens like kale and collards. Apples. Pumpkins. Gourds.

  She loved them all.

  She’d also added some hanging flower pots full of mums along with sunflowers and a selection of potted herbs. She was going to have to expand her thinking if she wanted to thrive during the off-season.

  She picked up an apple and examined it, just like she did every day. She had to make sure her products were quality. As she continued the inspection, her thoughts wandered to Austin’s offer to help him fix up houses.

  She liked the idea of making something old and abandoned look beautiful. And she really liked the idea of working with Austin on top of earning some extra money. She wasn’t even sure if those additional funds would cut it, though, when it came to paying her bills.

  Placing the last apple back into the basket, Skye paused.

  She wouldn’t stay here at the stand today, she decided. No, she’d put out the good faith donation box and hope she didn’t regret the choice.

  Other more pressing matters had her attention.

  Skye unlocked the donation box to clear out any extra money that had come in before she left.

  After grabbing the bills, she was about to lock the box back up when she paused.

  Was that a one-hundred-dollar bill?

  She narrowed her eyes as she fanned the paper money out.

  There were actually two hundred-dollar bills inside.

  What in the world?

  Skye definitely hadn’t sold enough produce to justify that amount of money. So who had left it?

  Ian, she realized. He was the only one who made sense. Two hundred dollars to him was like two dollars to the average person. Was he trying to pay her off? Or maybe he felt sorry for her?

  Skye wasn’t sure.

  She jammed the money into her purse, vowing to think about it more later on. As she walked to her bike, a truck stopped at the side of the road, and Jimmy James rolled down his window. “Hey, Skye.”

  “Hey, Jimmy James. You off to work?” The man always seemed fond of her—almost like a big brother. But Skye tried to be careful around him. He represented an old part of her life, a part she didn’t want to go back to.

  “I’m just leaving,” he said. “Business been busy for you?”

  She propped her hip against her bike and paused to finish the conversation. “Not really. But I guess that’s the way it works around here.”

  “Yeah, I know what that’s like. It can be hard to pay the bills in the winter. At least, it used to be.”

  Used to be? What did that mean?

  Skye thought about all the money she needed to both keep her business going and to pay her bills. “You have some good ways to get some extra cash? Because I need some.”

  He grinned. “I know a few ways.”

  Skye shifted her weight to her other hip. “Are they legal ways?”

  Jimmy James shrugged, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world as he sat there shooting the breeze. “Depends on how you define legal.”

  “I’m not interested otherwise.” Skye couldn’t even tempt herself with anything that was less than honorable. That wasn’t her life anymore—and it would never be her life again.

  “You could make a few deliveries for me. The fees for doing so could really add up, if you’re looking for money.”

  Deliveries? It sounded suspicious. “What kind of deliveries?”

  Jimmy James grinned and started pulling away. “What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

  Skye didn’t like the sound of that. But the idea of making more money easily was very tempting. She wasn’t going to be able to get any extra money from this produce stand—not unless people continued to leave large dollar amounts in her donation box.

  But there was no way she’d entertain Jimmy James’s offer.

  She jumped onto her bike and started down the road.

  Today, she was going to keep an eye on the Winthrops. She wanted to know what the family was up to, and it was becoming obvious they would never share on their own. That meant she needed to be creative and find other ways.

  Besides, she wanted to see Briar again. Wanted to know he was okay. That he was being taken care of and loved.

  She would get answers, and nothing was going to stop her.

  Skye parked her bike beneath an empty beach house and climbed the stairs until she reached a screened-in porch.

  She knew no one was renting this place right now, and she also knew that the screens would conceal her presence from any onlookers who were out and about today.

  This smaller house was right across the street from Ritzy Row, and therefore right across the street from the home the Winthrops were renting.

  Maybe this was an act of desperation. Skye knew that. But she didn’t care.

  Besides she was out of options. If she were rich and wealthy like the Winthrops, she could pay people to do this for her. She could hire a private investigator and a lawyer. She could talk to people in power who could bend the law to meet their demands.

  But that wasn’t Skye. She had little to no resources.

  So she would do what she could.

  She settled on a squeaky porch s
wing and watched the house across the street, rhythmically letting her seat sway back and forth.

  After two hours, she’d seen nothing. Four cars—all luxury vehicles—sat in the driveway unmoving.

  The front door hadn’t even opened.

  For all she knew, the family wasn’t here and this was all for nothing.

  Skye’s thoughts went back to Briar.

  How would Skye’s life look different if Briar was hers? She had signed away her rights and had no legal means of changing that.

  But now that she’d seen the boy . . . now that she knew he could be her son . . . all she wanted was to be a part of his life.

  Was the thought crazy? Skye didn’t know.

  Her phone rang. It was Austin. She’d promised to check in and hadn’t done so yet.

  “Hey, there,” she answered.

  “Hey, I hadn’t heard from you in a while. Everything okay?”

  Delight filled her when she heard his smooth, deep voice. She stared at the house across the street and considered how to respond. “Yeah, everything is fine.”

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Skye couldn’t very well tell him she’d invaded someone else’s screen porch and was now stalking the family of her ex-boyfriend.

  “I’m . . . uh . . . I’m just taking some time to think.” She sounded unconvincing, even to her own ears.

  “Are you sure everything is okay?” Curiosity—and maybe some skepticism—stained Austin’s voice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m staying out of trouble.”

  “That’s good news. And no signs of danger, right?”

  She glanced at the tomb-like house with no signs of life inside. “I’ll call you first thing if there are, okay?”

  “Thanks. I feel better knowing that.”

  Skye remembered waking up in his arms. The feel of his heartbeat beneath her ear. The completeness she felt when she was with him. “Austin?”

  He paused for a moment. “Yeah?”

  Austin what? What was she about to say? That she loved him?

  The thought nearly choked her.

  Finally, Skye cleared her throat. “How are you feeling today?”

  “I’m sore, but okay.”

  “I’m glad.” She hung up, kicking herself for making things awkward. She never had been good at relationships. Maybe not even friendships.

  She lowered her phone and stared at the house again.

  Sitting here wasn’t working.

  Skye was going to need to expedite this process and get closer.

  Austin nodded at the matching house beside the one he’d been working on, still mulling over the realization that his construction site had been tampered with.

  “Maybe I’ll go talk to a few of the neighbors,” he finally told Wes. “It looks like someone is staying at the house next door. Maybe they saw something.”

  Austin had come here with the intention of putting his scaffolding back together and finishing the job—with Wes’s help. But now that he knew someone had tampered with his equipment, his priorities had shifted.

  He could have been killed yesterday. Was that someone’s intention? If so, why?

  “It can’t hurt to talk to a few people.” Wes followed his gaze. “Maybe someone even has a security camera.”

  They walked to where the lane split with one driveway leading to Seagull Palace and the other to the house beside it. Austin checked out the license plates in the driveway as he passed. The people here were from North Carolina. Were they renters? Or had the homeowners come back to use the property?

  The house was obviously a rental. A sign on the front gave the name, Aquaholic, along with a property number and management company name for inquiries.

  Austin and Wes climbed the front steps and rang the bell. A moment later, a woman answered. She was older—in her late sixties, probably. And she didn’t look like a vacationer, not with her paint-splattered clothes and the half-blue walls beyond her.

  “I hate to interrupt you, but my name is Austin Brooks, and I’m working on the house next door,” he started.

  The woman smiled. “Seagull Palace? Yes, we saw you over there yesterday. I thought about getting your number in case I need some work done on our place. No way either of us is climbing that high to look at the roof.”

  “I don’t blame you. Especially after my day yesterday.”

  Her smile slipped and creases formed on her brow. “I saw the ambulance, but it was after the accident must have happened. Is everyone okay?”

  Austin nodded. “Thankfully, yes.”

  “I’m Yvonne, by the way. What can I do for you?” The woman shifted her paintbrush to her other hand.

  “Listen, I was wondering if you saw anyone over by the house yesterday? Anyone besides me and the ambulance?”

  She didn’t have to think about it long. “Someone from the management company was there earlier, before you came.”

  “The management company?”

  Yvonne nodded. “I mean, I assume that’s who it was. She was dressed professionally, and she walked around the perimeter of the house like she was inspecting it.”

  Austin’s breath caught. Was this the lead he was looking for? “Did you see her stop by the scaffolding?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. I wondered for a moment if she was going to climb it. She didn’t, of course.” Yvonne shook her head, like the thought was ludicrous. “Why do you ask? Is everything okay?”

  Austin and Wes exchanged a glance. “Someone messed with my equipment and caused the accident.”

  Yvonne’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t say for sure that this woman messed with it. She didn’t look the type.”

  “Could you describe her?”

  “She had dark hair. Kind of curly. To her shoulders. She was youngish—probably in her early thirties.”

  Austin froze. Could that be the woman he’d seen on the beach on the day he’d performed the ocean rescue? He presumed she was the mom of the boy he’d rescued. He’d met her briefly at the clinic when he’d gone there to check on the boy that day, and thought her name was Emma.

  But why would she be here at his jobsite? It seemed unlikely that she would even know he worked here, so . . . was it just a coincidence?

  Austin didn’t know the answers. But he didn’t like this.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Skye left her bike at the house and hurried down the street and across a sand dune. As she made her way down the beach, she pushed on her sunglasses and pulled her hair back into a bun.

  The disguise wasn’t great, but at least she might blend in a little better. She climbed atop a lifeguard stand that wasn’t in use and sat there, letting the sun warm her face.

  As Skye looked out across the beach, her breath caught. Briar was out here.

  Someone she didn’t recognize—a woman in her late teens or early twenties—kicked a soccer ball with him on the sand.

  A nanny, if Skye had to guess. The young woman was probably thirty pounds overweight and didn’t look especially athletic. But she was giving the game her best effort.

  Skye watched Briar. He looked so happy to be outside. His eyes were lit with excitement. There was a bounce in his steps, and his hair flopped up and down with every stride he took.

  Was Briar better off with a family like the Winthrops than he would be with her? Her heart twisted at the question. Mostly because she didn’t have an easy answer.

  This family could give him everything. And Emma had desperately wanted a child. Maybe things had worked out for the best.

  But had Emma taught Briar to appreciate watching the sunset? Or the joy of picking your own fruit and eating it fresh from the vine? Or how delightful it could be to splash in puddles and dance in the rain?

  Because those were things money couldn’t buy. And they were important things.

  Briar missed the soccer ball and began chasing it her way. Skye hopped down from the lifeguard stand and stopped the ball before it rolled
past. Reaching down, she grabbed it and extended it toward Briar as he ran her way.

  “Here you go.”

  He paused and squinted against the sun at her. “Hey, you’re that woman who came to our door the other day.”

  “I am. I’m Skye.”

  “I’m Briar,” he reminded her.

  “You like playing soccer, Briar?”

  “I do. My mom says tennis would be better, but I hate tennis. It’s almost as boring as golf.”

  Skye grinned. He really was a delightful boy. “I agree. Soccer is much more exciting. Have you had fun on your vacation?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought I’d get to spend more time with my mom and dad. But they’ve been busy doing adult things. Like reading the newspaper and talking. It’s a little boring.”

  “I understand.” Skye had played soccer for a couple years in junior high and high school—until her grades had suffered and she’d been forced to quit. “Soccer would be my choice too.”

  The nanny jogged up to them, out of breath and her cheeks flushed. “Sorry if he’s bothering you. He’s a talker. Aren’t you, Briar? And what have I told you about talking to strangers?”

  “She’s not a stranger. Besides, you hate soccer, Ruth,” Briar called over his shoulder. “At least you don’t have to play right now.”

  Ruth laughed. “I can’t argue with that. I’m not much of an athlete.”

  “I’ll kick the ball with you for a moment,” Skye said, knowing it was a risky move. But she couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

  “You will? Yes!” He pulled his arm back in a “victory” motion.

  Briar jogged down the sand. When he was a good distance away, he kicked the ball toward Skye. She kicked it back.

  A satisfaction like Skye had never known filled her.

  This should have been her life. With her son. Doing simple things.

  If she could go back, there were so many things she would have done differently. So. Many. Things.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” someone growled behind her.

  Skye froze and turned.

  It was Emma.

  And proverbial steam was coming out of her ears as she glared at Skye.

 

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