by Winnie Reed
“I know, I know,” I murmured as we walked. “So many new smells. So many new people. Your Grandmom wanted to keep you while I was gone, but something told me she would feed you cookies the entire time and we can’t have that. She was even talking about buying a little dress for you, and I have to draw the line somewhere.” Even I wasn’t that obsessed.
Though I was pretty close. She probably would look adorable in a dress.
I had the feeling that if I wanted to run into Kevin, which I had every intention of doing, I would have to come back to this strip early in the morning. Check-in at the hotel was three o’clock, and it was already close to five by the time Lola and I took a little stroll. Kevin was most often spotted out here in the morning after picking up his paper.
He was sort of like this town’s version of Mr. Hutchins, I realized. Though not nearly as much of a ladies’ man. Just thought of Kevin Patterson flirting—even something as harmless as the flirting that came from Cape Hope’s resident Marine—gave me the heebie-jeebies.
The sight of a familiar face made me smile. Tim Jernigan was setting up umbrellas over the tables outside the brewery. He recognized me and waved. “You just can’t get this town out of your system, can you?” He laughed.
Right. I had told him I was only there for the weekend. “What can I say? You make a great beer and I’ve been dreaming about those nachos since the last nacho went into my mouth. I’d eat that shredded chicken on top of anything.”
“You wanna know the secret?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“Obviously.”
“Marinate the chicken in a can of adobo peppers and apple cider vinegar for an hour. Bake low for an hour after that. Then shred it up and plop it on top of your chips.”
That explained the smoky, addictive flavor. “You are a genius. A straight-up genius. And I’m more convinced than ever that we need you in Cape Hope.”
“I’m thinking about it.” He crouched next to Lola, who naturally adored the attention. I was so glad she was a friendly dog. I was also glad that she gave me an excuse to linger, since I had a few questions for this friendly brewer with a killer chicken recipe.
“Has there been any more trouble around here? Or am I the only one who stirred things up?” I asked.
“You didn’t really stir up trouble,” he assured me, smiling up from where he was in the process of rubbing Lola’s belly. “It’s just that the particular person you were talking to isn’t very easy to get along with. I can’t imagine anybody could have a conversation with Kevin Patterson without it devolving into an argument.” He stood, hands on his hips, looking up and down the street. “He passes by a couple of times a day. But aside from a few dirty looks, I haven’t heard anything from him.”
“Where’s his house? I was wondering that, since he walks down here so frequently. I figured he must live pretty close by.”
“Sure, only three or four blocks down. Where the commercial district ends and the residential begins. It’s an old Victorian, red brick with white trim on a corner lot. You can’t miss it. Most days he sits out there reading and probably telling kids to stay off his lawn.”
I laughed. “He seems the type,” I admitted. Then I felt bad for laughing, since I knew things about him which Tim Jernigan probably didn’t know. As far as I was aware, the police hadn’t announced the identity of the body in the attic.
I wondered what Tim’s opinion would be if he knew Kevin’s father had been found. If he knew what Kevin might have suffered as a child. I was starting to become more aware as the days went on of how quick I was to jump to judgment before knowing the full story of a person’s life. It didn’t make me very comfortable with myself, frankly, and I reminded myself to take care of the things I said.
Tim gave me a funny sort of look. “Are you a reporter?” he asked in a choked voice, like he didn’t want to ask but felt compelled anyway.
I laughed. “No! I’m not. I am a writer, yeah, but not the sort you’re thinking of. I was hoping to feature Nate Patterson’s bed and breakfast in an article somewhere down the line. That’s the extent of my literary interest.”
“I hope you understand why I had to ask,” he shrugged. “Don’t take it personally.”
“Not at all! I’m sure there are a lot of journalists who would be all over you right now, in this town. The thought of a body in an attic, an attic which happens to belong to a prominent citizen? It would be like throwing chum in the water.”
Tim nodded. “That’s a good way to describe it. I grew up around here, you see, so I know how quickly gossip can spread, especially when it has to do with a family whose name everybody knows.”
I rolled my eyes, nodding sympathetically. “Tell me about it. I grew up in a small shore town myself, and everybody knew who my parents were. Granted, we’re not wealthy, but the minute something happened, everybody knew about it because everybody felt like they knew us, like it was their business.”
“I guess some things don’t change from place to place.”
“I think people are pretty much the same everywhere,” I agreed, nodding slowly. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I asked, “Do people talk a lot about the Pattersons around here? Only Nate and Kevin still live in the area, right? I thought Nate’s parents had retired overseas.”
“That’s what I heard, too. My mom always told stories about how everything they did was considered breaking news. If they had a party, everybody knew about it. Women would devour stories written in the local paper, talking about what the guests wore and what their names were and which families they came from.”
“And how fractious the family was, I bet,” I mused. “I heard they were always fighting for one reason or another. I guess in big families, that’s bound to happen. The law of averages, you know?”
Tim’s eyes narrowed behind those glasses of his which brought nothing to mind so much as Buddy Holly. “You sure you’re not a reporter?” This time, he sounded suspicious.
The last thing I need to do was get him on my bad side. I would earn a reputation, then nobody would want to speak to me.
I waved my hands frantically. “No, no, I’m sorry. I’m asking too many questions. I always complain about how people are in my town, but there must be something in the water because I’m just as bad as they are. I guess that makes me a hypocrite.”
He mustered a smile that seemed genuine enough. “No, just curious. And for the record, yes, there were always fights. Mom told me about that, too. She’s always been the sort of person who lives and dies for her favorite celebrities, and I think the Pattersons were as close to celebrity as you could get around here.”
“Did she tell you who was doing the fighting? Again, I’m just curious. My best friend’s family is close with their family, and she knows some things about them, but always through multiple sources. This one told that one who told this one who told her. And Nate is probably one of the youngest people in the family, so most of these things happened before he was born.”
Tim nodded again, reminding me of one of those bobble head dolls people collect. “Nate’s a good guy. You would never know he came from such a wealthy family. He’s so down-to-earth. The sort of person you wouldn’t mind sitting down and cracking open a beer with, shooting the breeze for a while. Maybe he ended up being such a cool, chill sort of guy because he was so much younger than everybody. He couldn’t get pulled into all that drama because he wasn’t born then.”
“Good point.”
His brow furrowed, and he folded his arms while leaning against a table. “The one thing I remember my mom telling me was about a big fight George Patterson had with his brother, Matthew. Did you hear about the argument Kevin and Nate got into last week, out here on the street?”
“Sure, I did. I don’t even live here, and I heard about it.”
“It was like that with them, only worse. The sort of thing where people would actually warn one of them if the other one had been spotted in the vicinity. If George had stepped into a pla
ce like this and Matthew was seen two blocks down, people would come running to spread the news. Mom said she was never sure whether they were trying to help avoid a fight or trying to help start one.”
“People can be funny that way,” I allowed, thinking of how many busybodies there were in Cape Hope.
“Nobody knew where it started, though I always figured it had to do with business. That’s what it’s always been with them. At least, from what I’ve heard. I guess I’m not the best judge.”
Tim had no idea how much insight he had just granted me. “No worries. I’m only curious because I’m barely, tangentially related to what’s going on. I’m always on my mom’s case for being a busybody, maybe I need to start looking at myself a little more critically.” We left it there, with me promising to pay a visit for some more nachos because let’s face it, they were the stuff dreams were made of.
In Lola’s estimation, we left not a moment too soon. There were so many places for her to go, things to sniff, people to be adored by.
Though there was one person in particular who I had the feeling would not have adored her if she laid golden eggs on the daily. Kevin didn’t strike me as a dog lover.
The thought of him left me wondering if I should take a stroll his to his house or not. I looked down at Lola. “What do you think, fluffy? Should we extend our walk a little bit? Give you more of a chance to explore?”
There I went, rationalizing my questionable decisions. My mother would be so proud.
Just as Tim had described, there was a red brick Victorian sprawling its way across a corner lot just four blocks from the commercial strip. I had grown up around such houses and typically tended to overlook them because they were so familiar to me, but this one was special.
There was a stateliness to it, a romance. It was the sort of home that made a person stop and stare. Pink and white roses climbed trellises along one entire wall, and an arched trellis covered in more of the same sat at the gate. To get in or out, one had to walk underneath them. It was like something out of a fairytale, a dream.
The porch was lined with potted flowers of all colors, all sizes. More flowers and ferns hung from baskets spaced at even intervals along the underside of the porch roof. Like one big, magical garden.
And this was where Kevin lived? I would expect a lady like my Aunt Nell, who always looked for the romance in everything and preferred the color pink over any other color. She would look right at home seated on the porch swing, drinking lemonade and reading a good book while the world passed by.
I sank so deep into this little fantasy of mine that I forgot myself. Lola and I came to a stop so I could stare in wonder at the beautiful house with its gabled roof and a turret at one corner with a stained glass window behind a shallow balcony.
That was my mistake, forgetting myself.
“What do you think you’re doing here?”
I barely had time to register shock and recognize the voice before Kevin was practically on top of me. His eyes were wild, his face a shade of purple that would’ve been pretty if it weren’t the color of an actual, human face.
In his haste to rush me, he didn’t notice the dog at the end of the leash in my hand. She yipped as he nudged her with one leg—his surprise told me he hadn’t done it on purpose.
Still, I bent to pick her up. “What are you doing?” I asked, turned partway away from him to shield the dog.
He sputtered, his jaw clenched along with his fists. “I-I didn’t see—”
“No, because you were too busy trying to attack me! And you could’ve hurt a defenseless animal.” I stroked Lola’s head, trying to be calm for her sake when all I could do was shake with rage.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been on my property, staring at my house! I remember you from the brewery, missy.” He actually went so far as to shake a finger in my face.
“Good for you. I was taking my dog for a walk and admiring your house. Is that a crime?” Meanwhile, why was there no one walking by who might save me from this? The man had me backed up against his white picket fence and was leaning in only a few inches from my face. He was lucky Lola wasn’t the type to bite.
Naturally, if the man were having a fight with his cousin, there would be dozens of eyewitnesses. But harass me and there was nobody in sight.
“I want you off this stretch of sidewalk now! And if I hear about you snooping around again, asking questions about me—yes, I know you did,” he added with a triumphant smile at my surprise. “You think people don’t talk around here? Somebody saw you chatting with that Jernigan person and heard my family’s name mentioned.”
Jeez, Louise. Not twenty minutes had passed since my conversation with Tim. Just when I thought Cape Hope cornered the market on gossip.
“Let me by, then,” I huffed. “I’ll be out of your way.”
“I want your word.” He snarled, eyes darting over my face. “You won’t come back here. You’ll clear out of town, and I won’t have to see your face again.”
“Wh—what? Wait a minute—”
“Your word!”
Lola cowered in my arms when he sandwiched her between us, and I was roughly a breath away from breaking down into tears.
When suddenly, a knight in shining armor called out from the street. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
I never thought I’d be so happy to see Joe Sullivan climbing out of his car.
Especially considering how furious he looked.
Chapter Eighteen
Kevin fixed Joe with a skeptical stare. “And who are you?” he asked. At least he stepped away so I could take a breath without him in my face. He stank of stale coffee and cigars. Not my favorite combination.
“I’m a detective in Paradise City, New Jersey, and I happened to be driving past in time to see you harassing this woman.” He took me by the arm, which of course Lola took as an invitation to lick his hand.
“Harassing this woman? Good, I’m glad you’re a member of law enforcement. She was trespassing on my property after trying to lure me into an argument at Tim Jernigan’s brewery on Friday night. There are plenty of witnesses who can back me up.”
“Just how was she trespassing on your property?” Joe asked. I had to give him credit. He managed to keep his temper in check. Maybe because I had already heard frustration throbbing in his voice before—I recognized it now. Frustration and anger barely held back for the sake of keeping the peace.
Kevin sputtered, waving his arms. “She was standing here, staring at the house! I just happened to be coming out to pull weeds when I saw her staring up.”
Joe frowned. “She was on this side of the fence?” Kevin nodded. “Then she wasn’t trespassing. She was standing on the sidewalk.”
“I might’ve known you would be at her side! You see blonde hair and blue eyes and right away, you take her part in my harassment.”
“The only person being harassed around here is this woman. And by the looks of it, her dog. It would be best if she came with me, so that I could see to her safety.”
Whoops. Something told me the last thing I wanted to do was be alone with Joe right now. But I wasn’t about to hang around with Kevin, either.
“Remember what I said, girl,” Kevin called out to the back of my head as Joe ushered me to the car.
Joe growled in my ear. “Don’t say a word. Don’t even look at him.” I wasn’t that much of a fool. The last thing I needed was to antagonize Kevin any further. He was not an enemy I wanted to have.
Once I was inside the car, Joe looked at Kevin over the top of the roof. “Now, sir. I know you know better than to verbally threaten someone while in the presence of a police officer. I’m sure you didn’t mean for that to come out the way it sounded.”
I sneaked a look at a chastised Kevin as we pulled away, barely catching him out of the corner of my eye. I was more concerned with Lola, who trembled hard enough that her tags jingled. I tried to ignore the absolutely murderous look on his face in favor of comforting my p
oor baby.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She licked my chin, telling me all was well.
All was not well, however, with Joe. He practically slammed himself into his seat and most certainly slammed the car door. “What were you thinking?” he muttered as we pulled away.
“I was taking Lola for a walk. How the heck did you even know I was here?”
He grumbled, a deep rumbling sound. “I called your mother’s café this morning and she informed me of your impromptu trip. I had the feeling I’d better follow you in case you got yourself into trouble. Look what I found. Trouble.”
“I was just standing there, admiring the roses and the house. That was it.”
“You just happened to be admiring the roses in front of Kevin Patterson’s house? It just so happened that it was his house you stopped in front of?”
I could have been flippant with him. Lord knew I was good at it. I could’ve pretended that yes, it was all coincidence.
But I was too tired, and still a little shaken from my run-in with the esteemed Mr. Patterson. “Okay, I was walking past because the owner of the brewery told me where he lived. I’ve been wondering all this time. That said, it’s not like I was going to bang down his front door and start asking questions. I would’ve been on my way in a couple of minutes, if that.”
He exhaled hard through his nose, reminding me of nothing so much as an angry bull. “You just don’t know with people like that. People who are used to getting their way their entire lives. They don’t take well to snoops and conspiracy theorists and all that.”
“I’m not a conspiracy theorist.”
“Oh, no? This coming from the woman who insisted the town’s police force isn’t giving the case its fair share of attention.”
“I was right about that! You said it yourself.”
