by Bobbi Holmes
“I think I understand why I found this croquet set scattered all over the attic after the break in. You threw it at them, didn’t you? Like you tossed the ball for Sadie a few minutes ago.” Lily’s smile broadened. “Wow, I bet they wet their pants when you pelted them with the croquet set.” Lily giggled at the thought. “Good work Mr. Marlow. Good work.”
Lily flashed a final grin before turning back to the door and going outside with Sadie.
Walt walked to the kitchen window and looked outside, watching as Lily tossed the bag on the lawn and removed the croquet set. When Lily and Danielle first arrived, the back yard was overgrown in bushes and trees, and the lawn was a wild jungle of wildflowers and weeds. The gardener Danielle hired tamed the yard in a matter of days, returning it to the way Walt remembered it—back when he was still alive, and sharing the home with his bride, Angela.
Smiling, Walt watched Lily arrange the croquet set while Sadie ran around the yard chasing birds and barking at the croquet balls that lay silent on the lawn. When Lily left the kitchen minutes earlier, she seemed less nervous than she had been in the attic, and that pleased Walt. He had no desire to frighten the residents of Marlow House—at least, not Danielle and Lily.
Chapter Seven
Cheryl studied Ian as they crossed the street. She liked tall men, and he had that going for him. She wondered if he intentionally wore his t-shirt a size too small to show off his impressive abs. If so, she had no complaints. It was a nice view. The Cubs baseball cap needed to go. She assumed his hair was short, although she couldn’t be certain because of the cap.
After Ian and Cheryl reached the sidewalk in front of his rental, Cheryl asked, “Is it always this cool here?”
Ian’s gaze swept over Cheryl, she was now shivering. “You’re cold. You want to go back so you can grab a sweater?”
“I didn’t bring a sweater with me. Didn’t occur to me the beaches would be so cold up here this time of year.”
“I’ve a sweat shirt you can use.” Ian nodded toward his house.
“If you don’t mind.” Cheryl smiled up at him.
“Sure, come on. It’ll probably be huge on you, but it will keep you warm. Lucky for you, I just washed it.”
Still smiling, Cheryl followed Ian up the walkway to his house. Her smile vanished when he headed toward his car parked in the driveway, instead of the front door.
“What are you doing?” Cheryl asked when Ian unlocked his car’s trunk.
“Getting you that shirt,” Ian explained as he opened the trunk.
Cheryl stepped closer and looked into the back of his car. Inside were two laundry baskets, filled with folded clothes.
“You keep your clothes in the car?” Cheryl frowned.
“No,” Ian laughed and grabbed a sweat shirt from one of the baskets. He handed it to Cheryl. “I took my clothes to the Laundromat. Just hadn’t gotten around to taking them in the house.”
Cheryl glanced up at the house and asked, “The rental doesn’t have a washer and dryer?”
“Sure it does. But it’s quicker to take them down to the Laundromat and do them all at once.” Ian slammed the trunk shut.
“So we aren’t going into your house?” Cheryl sounded disappointed.
“I don’t see why. You going to put it on?”
Cheryl glanced down at the blue sweat shirt in her hand. Men can be so dense sometimes, she thought. Here she’d given him the perfect opportunity to get her into his house where they could be alone—and he was totally clueless. She wasn’t stupid. She saw how he had looked at her when they first met, the way his eyes seemed incapable of looking away from her breasts. Some women might find that insulting, which she could never understand. To her it just meant the man had fallen under her spell, and that if she wanted something from him, he would be willing to give it to her. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from Ian yet, but she found him very attractive, and according to what she’d read online he was something of a celebrity. Some of his books had been made into television documentaries; how cool was that?
“Here,” Cheryl said as she handed the sweater back to Ian.
“What? You don’t want to try it on? It’s clean, I promise.”
“I’m not really cold anymore. But thanks for the offer.”
“Okay, but you want to take it along, just in case?”
“No. That’s okay.” Cheryl smiled up sweetly. Ian gave a shrug then opened his trunk again and tossed the shirt back on top of the basket. After he slammed the trunk close he led Cheryl to the pathway beside his house, leading to the beach.
“Wow, you’re right on the beach!” Cheryl said when they reached the sand. She stopped a moment and slipped off her sandals.
“I know. It’s a great rental. Awesome location.”
“I thought Marlow House was one of the first houses in Frederickport,” Cheryl said as she and Ian walked along the beach. In one hand she carried her purse and in the other her sandals.
“It is.”
“Then why didn’t they build it where yours is? Didn’t the guy who founded the town also build Marlow House?”
“Yes. Frederick Marlow, he was Walt Marlow’s grandfather.”
“Well if I founded a beach town, I’d build my house right on the ocean!”
“So, you’re familiar with the history of Marlow House?” Ian asked.
“Just from your article. When you introduced yourself back there, I recognized your name.”
“Ahh, so you read my article.” Ian smiled.
“Yes. It was very interesting.”
They walked in silence for few moments before Cheryl asked, “So, you and Dani’s friend are…you know…are like a couple?”
“I suppose,” Ian shrugged.
“How long have you been going together?”
“Going together?” Ian chuckled. “I can’t say we’re going together exactly.”
“So how long have you known each other?”
“Umm… three weeks.”
“Only three weeks?”
“That’s almost a month.” Ian grinned.
“So you just met each other.” Cheryl beamed at the news. “For a minute back there I thought it was something more serious.”
Ian glanced over at Cheryl and arched his brow. “Who says it isn’t?”
“Oh, silly,” Cheryl giggled, playfully pushing Ian’s hip with hers. “You’re walking on the beach with me, not Lily.”
Ian stopped and looked at Cheryl. “So?”
Holding her shoes and handbag, she stopped walking and looked up into Ian’s face and smiled. “So…I could see how you were looking at me back there,” Cheryl said in a breathless whisper.
“Cheryl, if I gave you the wrong impression, I apologize.”
“No, that’s okay.” Cheryl stepped closer, her body almost touching his. “You’re being loyal to Lily. I think that’s sweet.”
“Umm…” Uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, Ian glanced down, his gaze landing on her cleavage. Startled by the sight, his gaze shot up into Cheryl’s smiling face.
“You two have only known each other for a few days, so it isn’t like you really owe her loyalty. You just met. But I understand if you’re a little confused right now. I just want you to know, I’m interested. Very interested.” Cheryl pressed her body against his before taking a step back. Flashing a coy smile, she turned and started walking down the beach. When Ian didn’t follow and just stood mute, watching her walk away, Cheryl looked over her shoulder and yelled playfully, “Are you coming or not?”
Shaking the cobwebs from his head, Ian caught up to Cheryl. They walked silently side by side for about five minutes. Finally Ian spoke. “Are you always so bold?”
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings,” Cheryl said with a pout.
“How so?”
“You make it sound like I come on to every man I meet, which is not true. But I felt something between us, Ian. Admit it, you felt it too.”
When Ian didn’t respond Ch
eryl said. “Did you know my parents were killed with Danielle’s? And my brother.”
“No. I didn’t know that.”
“They were killed in an airplane accident. It taught me how short life is. Now when I see something I want, I go for it. I want you.”
“I’m sorry about your parents—your brother. But, you don’t even know me,” Ian said quietly, still walking alongside Cheryl.
“I read your article about the Missing Thorndike. I looked you up. You’re a very talented journalist. I had no idea you were staying across the street from my cousin.”
“While I’m flattered, you still know nothing about me. I imagine if you got to know me better you’d find me quite boring.”
“Oh I seriously doubt it,” Cheryl purred. “Anyway, it’s the chemistry between us. I felt it immediately. I know you did too.” Cheryl reached over to take Ian’s hand. Just as she clasped onto his fingertips he pulled his hand away from her, not commenting on the gesture.
“You know, I own half of Marlow House—half of the Missing Thorndike.”
“Lily mentioned something about that. But I thought your aunt left her estate to Danielle.”
“Our aunt was suffering from Alzheimer’s. There’s no way she would have left me out of the will had she been in her right mind. Dani knows that.”
“Danielle never mentioned your aunt had Alzheimer’s.” Ian glanced over at Cheryl.
“Of course she wouldn’t mention it. Why would she? I have to thank you for writing the article about the Missing Thorndike. Until I read it, I didn’t even know our dear Aunt Brianna had passed.”
“You didn’t know?” Ian stopped walking and looked at Cheryl.
She came to a stop and looked up into his face. Shaking her head sadly she said, “No. Dani and I haven’t been close for years. I tried, mind you, but after her husband made a pass at me…”
“Made a pass at you?” Ian interrupted.
“The night before their wedding. Can you believe that? Dani didn’t. She should have, because what happened? He cheated on her during their entire marriage. It all came to a very public and embarrassing end when her cheating husband was killed in a car accident with his lover. Of course, I am sorry he was killed, but he did cheat on my cousin. And he was responsible for the rift in our relationship.”
“And you think contesting your aunt’s estate will mend that rift?”
“Half of the estate rightfully belongs to me. It’s not my fault Dani tried to cut me out of our aunt’s will.”
“Are you taking Danielle to court?”
“I plan to talk to our aunt’s attorney first. Hopefully we can get this settled without me resorting to legal action. But, I’ve already talked to an attorney who believes I have a very strong case.”
Cheryl dropped her shoes and purse to the sand and looked up at Ian, her eyes wide. “Let’s not discuss this anymore. I’d rather talk about us.”
“There is no us,” Ian said, shifting his weight nervously.
Never taking her eyes from Ian, Cheryl licked her lips and whispered, “There could be.”
“Cheryl, I just met you, you’re Danielle’s cousin…” Ian glanced around as if looking for an escape route.
“Have you slept with her yet?”
“Excuse me?” Ian frowned.
“Lily. Have you two…you know?”
“That’s really none of your business.” Ian combed his fingers through his hair.
“You haven’t. I can tell. I’m glad.” Cheryl leaned closer. “Would you like to kiss me?”
“Excuse me?” Ian frowned.
“Then we’ll know. Don’t you think it would be much kinder for Lily if we simply got this out of the way now? You kiss me and if there’s no chemistry, then you don’t have to keep wondering. But if there is chemistry, you can let Lily down gently, before she’s too emotionally invested in the relationship. It really would be the kindest thing.”
“Who said I was wondering?” Ian took a step back.
“Fine. Deny the attraction if you want.” Cheryl leaned over and picked up her shoes and purse from the sand. “I just wanted you to know how I felt about you.”
“I think we should get back to Marlow House. I need to get Sadie.”
“Sadie? Who’s Sadie?” Cheryl scowled.
“My dog. Remember, my dog Sadie.”
“Oh. That’s right. Okay.” They turned and started walking back to Marlow House.
“It’s nice they don’t allow dogs on this beach,” Cheryl said a few moments later.
“Why do you say that?”
“The dog poop. People with dogs always leave shit all over the beach.”
“I never do that. I always pick it up.”
“Eww,” Cheryl cringed. “That is gross. That’s something I can’t figure out, how people can just pick up their dog’s poop with their hands.”
“A hand typically covered with a plastic bag.”
“Still, that is gross. I’m just glad they don’t allow dogs down here and I don’t have to see all the poop.”
“Not far from here they allow dogs on the beach. I didn’t notice any. It’s a clean beach.”
“Well, I’ll remember to use this beach, and not that one.”
Chapter Eight
Gloria Comings, Mr. Renton’s assistant, was at the front desk when Danielle entered the attorney’s office later that afternoon. “Ms. Boatman,” Gloria greeted her without standing up.
“Hello. Mr. Renton is expecting me,” Danielle said with a smile as she glanced around the front office. Its rustic walls, paneled in knotty pine, looked more suitable for a mountain cabin than a business office. Many of the framed black and white photographs, hanging on two of the four walls, depicted the Oregon coast, while others were of two men fishing.
“Yes he is. You can go right in.” Gloria pointed to a closed door on the far wall behind her desk.
Danielle gave her a nod and smiled before making her way to the door. Glancing over the photographs she noticed the fishermen in the pictures all seemed to be the same two men. One fisherman was tall and lean while the second one was short and grossly overweight. The stark contrast between the two reminded Danielle of the 1930s comedy duo, Laurel and Hardy, although she didn’t think Hardy had been shorter than Laurel.
When she reached the door, Danielle paused and looked back at Gloria, who was busy reading through papers on the front desk. “Excuse me, who are the men in the photographs?”
Gloria looked up and turned around to face Danielle. “Why, that’s Mr. Renton and Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Renton’s partner.”
“The one who passed away?”
“Yes. Those two loved to fish.”
“Oh…” Danielle gave Gloria a smile and then turned back to the door. She wondered, is Mr. Renton Laurel or Hardy?
Danielle knocked on the door and was quickly greeted with, “Come in!”
As soon as Clarence Renton stood up from his desk and started walking toward Danielle to shake her hand, she had her answer—Hardy. Of course, he was much shorter than Hardy, and there was no thin mustache. In fact he looked nothing like Oliver Hardy, save for the stark difference of his physical appearance when standing side by side his former business partner. Now that she had a closer look, she decided he looked more like a clean-shaven Santa Claus, with his round body, ruddy cheeks, bright blue eyes and snowy hair.
“Ms. Boatman, so nice to meet you at last!” Clarence enthusiastically shook her hand, then guided her to a chair facing his desk.
“I really appreciate you seeing me today,” Danielle said as she took a seat.
“Well, what is this about a cousin?” Clarence sat back down behind his desk and looked at Danielle.
“My cousin Cheryl showed up at Marlow House this afternoon.”
“Yes, you told me that. But what I don’t understand, I was under the impression you didn’t have any family.”
“Not that I know of, except for Cheryl, who I really have nothing to do with.”
“How are you related, exactly?” Clarence leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
“Her mother was my father’s sister. Her parents and brother were killed with my parents in the plane accident.”
“Yes, I remember you telling me about that, but I wasn’t aware you had a surviving cousin. And she’s related to Brianna?”
“In the same way as I am. By marriage. Brianna’s husband was our grandfather’s brother.”
“Hummm…” Clarence frowned. “And you say she’s attempting to claim a share in the estate?”
“Do you think I’ll have a problem? Does she have a case?”
“I am a little concerned that I have never heard of her before—that your aunt never mentioned her. I was under the impression you were her only relative, albeit by marriage.”
“So are you saying Cheryl might have a claim?”
“Not exactly. But considering your aunt’s mental health during her last months…”
“Her mental health? I don’t know what you’re saying?” Danielle frowned.
“She had Alzheimer’s, you know.”
“No, I did not know. Why am I just now hearing about this?”
“Well, I don’t think it will be a problem. Your aunt authorized her last will before her illness. At least, before it was diagnosed. I just never considered there could be a problem, since you were her only relative, or so I thought.”
“But she didn’t leave her entire estate to me.” Danielle felt a headache coming on.
“As you know, she left a considerable amount of her estate to her favorite charities. I never worried about any of them contesting what she left you. But now that you tell me there is another great niece…”
“So how long was my aunt sick? Why didn’t you ever mention it?” Danielle rubbed her temples.
“You know she moved to Italy after her husband died. It wasn’t long after that she had me write her last will. About a year before her death she was having some difficulties living on her own. We arranged for her to be moved into an assisted living situation where they could take care of her.”
