“I finished with the therapist,” she said. “It’s up to me now. My doctor can give me a prescription for antianxiety meds, just as a backup. I’ve learned to pay attention to how I talk to myself. The therapy wasn’t about getting rid of fear altogether. It really was learning when to and when not to listen to the fear, understanding where it’s coming from and carrying on in spite of it.”
Olivia watched as her father tapped a thick finger on the map of California. “What about this trip makes you afraid?” he asked.
“I worry about being so far away from home. I’ve calculated how far it is from each of our stops and how long it would take us to get back here. It’s not that bad. Information and planning help how I talk to myself about going.” She glanced up at Olivia. “My therapist put me in touch with a pilot. My fear of flying has more to do with being away from home than with the mechanics of an airplane, but he asked me to imagine a model plane suspended in Jell-O and explained that’s what it’s like with a real plane flying at high speeds. He also said to remember that the plane wants to fly.”
“I hope it wants to land, too,” Olivia muttered.
“You two,” her father said. “We could always drive to California.”
Her mother shook her head. “We’re flying.”
“Buy the tickets, then.”
It was half challenge, half protectiveness. She thrust out her chin. “Bastard. I already did.”
Olivia laughed and headed out. Her own problems with flying had little to do with fear of being in the air but in a confined space, unable to get out if she wanted to. She wasn’t claustrophobic in every setting, but the thought of flying brought on a crawling sense of panic. Jess was convinced Olivia was taking on their mother’s anxieties.
Jess, who couldn’t wait to go on an adventure but never did.
Dylan was at Smith’s when Olivia stopped for a coffee to-go. “I’m at a loose end,” he said, sliding off his stool at the counter and easing next to her. “I can go to Boston with you.”
“What if you’re not invited?”
“Am I not invited, Olivia?”
She couldn’t resist a smile. He was so damn sexy. And he knew it. She sighed. “You can come with me, but I’m driving.”
Dylan, of course, invited himself into Olivia’s former design studio and charmed Jacqui Ackerman. When Marilyn emerged from her office for a guilty hello, Dylan charmed her, too. Marilyn, who already knew he was an ex-NHL player and partners with Noah Kendrick in NAK, Inc., couldn’t resist an opportunity. “I’d love to get out to Knights Bridge and see Carriage Hill. It sounds idyllic. Olivia’s design skills must come in handy. The change seems to be working for her. She looks so relaxed.”
“She has family and good friends in Knights Bridge,” Dylan said.
“In Boston, too,” Marilyn said. “A support system is critical. I’ve only been in town a short time. Before that I was in Providence, but Olivia and I have been friends for several years. I’m excited about working with her, even if she’s just freelancing now.”
Olivia was happy to pretend not to hear Marilyn and left her with Dylan, joining Jacqui in her office. “I appreciate the offer, Jacqui,” Olivia said immediately, “but I’m not coming back full-time. I just can’t right now.”
Jacqui nodded as she sat at her desk. “I understand, especially now that I’ve met Dylan McCaffrey.”
“Dylan’s not a factor in my decision.”
“No?” Jacqui smiled. “That’s too bad.”
They chatted about freelance jobs for a few more minutes. On her way back to the conference room, Olivia ran into Marilyn, ducking into her office. “It’s so good to see you, Liv, but not in a million years would I have guessed you’d walk in here with Dylan McCaffrey. You never were a big hockey fan, but I remember him as a player.” Marilyn paused in the hallway. “How did he end up in Knights Bridge?”
“It’s a long story—”
“Why don’t we have lunch together and catch up? Dylan can join us.”
Six months ago, Olivia would have accepted the invitation without hesitation. Even now, her first inclination was to say yes. Despite Marilyn’s behavior the past few months, Olivia still found herself wanting to reconnect with her. They’d been such good friends, and she hated to give up on a friendship.
Dylan appeared just down the hall. “Parking meter’s running out.”
There was no parking meter. They’d parked in a garage. He just wanted to get out of there, or to get Olivia out. She smiled at Marilyn. “Thanks, but another time.”
Instead, she and Dylan walked over to Newbury Street for lunch at her favorite restaurant, her first visit since running into Marilyn and Roger Bailey there. Dylan looked just as at ease in the restaurant as he had in his leaking kitchen in Knights Bridge. Olivia expected it would be the same at NAK headquarters or on the ice.
They sat across from each other at a small table. “I almost asked Marilyn to join us,” she said.
“From the freezer to lunch.”
“I’m not proud of that, you know.”
“Why not?” He leaned back, studying her. “You want her to like you.”
“I don’t care—”
“You care. It’s okay. Confrontation isn’t easy for everyone, and you don’t have to confront her. You just can’t trust her. She’s got crazy-bitch eyes.”
Olivia had no idea if he was serious. “Crazy-bitch eyes, Dylan?”
“Yeah. You can see her scheming behind those eyes.”
“You’re prejudiced because you found her in my freezer.”
He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, intense. “I’m prejudiced because she did you wrong.”
Olivia felt a surge of warmth at his solidarity and protectiveness and realized that by keeping Marilyn’s betrayal to herself for so long, she had also isolated herself. Her family and real friends couldn’t offer their support because they didn’t know anything was wrong. As Dylan continued to watch her, she squirmed, the warm, good feeling about him turning to physical desire—which, she suspected, he could tell.
She changed the subject. “How did you make the transition from hockey player to working with Noah Kendrick?”
“I was injured and eventually cut. It’s not something I expected, but I knew it could happen. The idea is to save your money.”
She eyed him. “But you didn’t.”
“Not enough. I was never one of the big-money players. I kept thinking I’d be one. A lot of people believed in me, but it just didn’t happen. Then it didn’t matter. I loved the game, and I had a great run.”
“That’s a good attitude.”
“It didn’t come naturally. I worked at it. I think certain people bring out the best in us, or we allow them to. I was with the wrong team for a while but then I got with the right team. I know a lot of guys who would have given their eyeteeth for the opportunity I had.”
“Regrets?”
“Yeah, sure, but I had a good time. I worked hard. I always focused on improving my skills. I had a few tough injuries.”
“Were you smart about the game?”
“Yes, and I had a great team and coaches the last couple years. I still got cut, though. That’s life. I didn’t want to tell anyone I’d blown most of my money. I pretended all was well with my folks. My father wanted me to start an adventure travel company with him, but we never got to it.”
“How did you and Noah end up working together?”
“He asked me to help him. I was sleeping in my car out on Coronado and he knocked on my window. He needed a right-hand man. Someone to watch his back, basically. I accepted, and everything took off once he was able to focus and get rid of some of the loons around him. Banging around the NHL gave me good insights into people, and I learned not to stick with the crazies. You can find all kinds of reasons to stick with someone but sometimes what you have to do is cut them loose and move on.”
Olivia noticed his penetrating gaze and knew he was talking about her, too. “It can be
easier than letting them cut you loose. So you’re loyal to Noah?”
“Yes. It’s not like you and this Marilyn woman. She used your energy, talents and goodwill to get what was good for her. She was never a friend. That’s key in my philosophy.”
“Would you have seen through her?”
“I didn’t have anything she needs. I deal with people who want access to Noah. You are who you are. Don’t beat yourself up over what you did to help Marilyn. Would you be happier if you hadn’t helped her, and she was still your struggling friend?”
Olivia considered his words. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? What’s done is done. I’m mad at her for what she did but we had some good times together.”
“Olivia, I don’t want you to be anyone but who you are. You’d never have written to me about the junk in my yard if you hadn’t caught her and your big client together. It was here, wasn’t it?”
“My favorite restaurant.”
He made a face. “Think she worried you might walk in?”
“I don’t think she gave it a moment’s thought. She liked the restaurant and she wanted to impress a client, so she brought him here.”
“There’s where you and I are different. You’re nicer. I think she knew. I think she was eaten alive with envy when you were doing well and she wasn’t, and she loved the chance to stick it to you.”
“That can’t be an easy way to live.”
“Her choice. Yours is to allow her to be who she is and let her go.”
“How did you get to be so philosophical?”
“I’m not. I’m just watching my language. It’s a little restaurant, and people know you here.” He winked at her. “Users and fakes bug the hell out of me.”
After lunch Olivia debated walking down to her apartment with him. She wasn’t self-conscious about showing it to a man who could afford to buy half the block, but it was time to give it up. Her landlord had a prospective tenant. Olivia had promised to borrow her sister’s truck and pack up the last of her stuff. When she explained the situation, Dylan offered to help. The man was worth a fortune, and he was willing to load a truck.
He was right, she realized. He was straightforward, and he wasn’t one to flinch. What people saw was what people got with him.
“Let’s go have a look at the building where Lord Ashworth was robbed,” she said.
They walked down Newbury to Arlington Street and an attractive, seven-story brick building, a former luxury hotel that had been converted into condos.
“Lord Ashworth’s suite probably faced the park.” Dylan glanced across the busy street at Boston Public Garden, lush with spring flowers and greenery. “He stayed here for a week in early September of 1938.”
Olivia looked up at the elegant 1920s building. “That wasn’t an easy year, or an easy month. War was brewing, the Depression was full on. The worst hurricane ever to hit New England struck a few weeks after the robbery. There was massive damage. Hundreds of people were killed. Why was Lord Ashworth in Boston?”
“Apparently no one knows,” Dylan said. “I’ve done more research but there’s not a lot to add. Ashworth wanted the United Kingdom to avoid war with Hitler at all costs. He might have been meeting with like-minded people here.”
“Why take a fortune in jewels with him? Was he married?”
“Not then.”
Olivia frowned. “Did he have a woman with him in Boston?”
“It’s possible, but it looks as if he came alone.”
“I wonder who our thief could have been. An American? A Brit? It’s hard to imagine, standing here all these years later, that Ashworth or the thief had anything to do with Knights Bridge.”
“What about Grace? Did she have any ties to Boston back then?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it.”
He took her hand suddenly. “Let’s forget this for a while. Want to show me the Public Garden?”
She pictured walking with him among the spring flowers and winding paths of the Victorian botanical garden and smiled. “I’d love to.”
Jess stopped at Rivendell after work and ran into her grandmother coming in from bird-watching. “I’m glad you’re here, Jess. I want another opinion. I don’t know if it’s just Grace being Grace or if she’s acting weird. Will you go see her? She’s in the sunroom.”
“Sure, Grandma.”
She insisted Jess go alone. Her presence would be a distraction, and Grace was already annoyed with her friend for “hovering.” Jess didn’t argue and headed down to the sunroom. She found Grace settled in a chair in front of the wall of windows. “Hey, Grace,” Jess said cheerfully. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Grace barely gave her visitor a glance before she turned back to the windows. “The birds are quiet today. They’re finding food elsewhere with the warm weather. That’s good. They’ll be back at the feeders this winter.” She put down her binoculars. “I know Audrey put you up to coming in here.”
“You two are lucky to have each other. You’ve been friends forever.”
She softened slightly. “I don’t take a good friend for granted.” She stared out at the empty bird feeders, then said, “Tell me about Olivia and Dylan McCaffrey.”
It wasn’t what Jess expected. “Olivia got him to clean up the yard at your old house. It was an eyesore. That’s all I know.”
“It’s not all you suspect.”
“Grace,” Jess said, firm but amused, “I’m not spying on my sister. If anything is going on with her and Dylan, she’ll tell me in her own good time.”
“No, she won’t. She’s a Frost. You’re all closemouthed about certain things.” Grace tilted her head back and frowned up at Jess. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’m not here about me—”
“But something’s on your mind. I can tell. I was a teacher for many years, Jess. Here, sit. Talk to me.” Grace waved a bony hand toward the windows. “Even my cardinal’s deserted me.”
Jess figured she didn’t have much choice and sat on a cushioned rocker. “You’ve lived in Knights Bridge most of your life, but you’re educated, and you’re sophisticated in so many ways. Did you ever feel constrained living here?”
“This area is my home, and I didn’t have the choices you have now. I was a young woman during the Depression and World War Two. After that…” She was thoughtful, serious. “I had my life here. I had a job, and I’d made friends in Knights Bridge. Once my grandmother and my father were gone, I had no one else. I had to be practical.”
“Did you ever go anywhere? Have adventures?”
“I loved to take long walks, and friends would invite me to their lake houses and sea cottages. Cape Cod—”
“I don’t mean in New England.”
“Ah. I went to Europe once, after my grandmother died. I went to London, Amsterdam and Paris, and I spent some time in the English countryside. I was gone most of one summer. My grandmother had left me a cookie jar of money, and that’s what I decided to do. I didn’t have children. I was doing all right financially as a teacher, and I didn’t want any more property. I gave a little to the church, and I went on a trip.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Every minute.”
“I want to see Paris,” Jess whispered.
“Then go,” Grace said. “If you can afford to, just go. Flights are easier nowadays. There’s so much information. Go if that’s what you want.”
“My mother—”
“Your mother will be fine. Jessica, your mother doesn’t want you not to live your life because she’s afraid of living hers.”
Jess’s eyes widened in shock.
“I’m old,” Grace said with satisfaction, “but I’m not unaware of what’s going on. Your parents’ marriage isn’t in danger. Your mother’s happiness with herself is.”
“What about Olivia?”
But Grace had drifted off, and Jess reported back to her grandmother before heading home to her sawmill apartment.
Mark was sitting out by the
dam. Jess stood over him, her hands on her hips. “I’m going to Paris.”
“I know you are.”
“Then I’m going to other places. Vancouver, San Francisco, Prague, London, Ireland. You have Irish ancestors. Don’t you want to go to Ireland?”
“My Irish ancestors are all dead.”
“Mark!”
She realized he was kidding, yet he also had no real love of traveling. He was a workaholic, and he enjoyed hiking. His vision as an architect wasn’t limited because of his limited desire to travel. She wasn’t going to make this about him, or try to talk him into liking something he didn’t like. But she was going to Paris.
“I don’t think you’re boring,” she said. “I won’t get tired of you even if you won’t go to Paris. Even if you go just for me but don’t like it. We can go hiking in the Alps. I want to see them, too.”
“What about Knights Bridge?”
“It’s home. I can love other places and still want to be home.”
Twenty-One
Dylan paced in Grace Webster’s former dining room and dialed Loretta’s cell phone. Olivia had dropped him off at his car and disappeared, mumbling about needing to get home and walk her dog. He suspected she was just as restless as he was after their day together.
He didn’t wait for Loretta to say hello before he pounced. “Did my father ever mention the Frosts? Did he go to Boston? Did he check out the old hotel where Lord Ashworth was robbed?”
Loretta sighed. “No, I don’t know and I don’t know.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Loretta?”
“How’s Knights Bridge? Snow melted?”
He immediately thought of walking hand-in-hand with Olivia in Boston but refused to let Loretta divert him. “I deal with people who want to hide things from me all the time. I’m not saying you’re being dishonest. I am saying you haven’t told me everything.”
“What else do you want, Dylan? Any other questions? Some of us have to work for a living.”
The tart response was just a cover. Dylan took no offense. He was dealing with a savvy lawyer. She’d stall and all but lie. He had to be smart if not patient. “All right, then. Let me rephrase. What do you suspect and not necessarily know for sure that you’re not telling me?”
Secrets of the Lost Summer Page 23
