Secrets of the Lost Summer

by Carla Neggers

  “He did, and he died the way he would have wanted, just too soon.” Dylan grinned, thinking of his father. “He’d have liked it that I’m here with you.”

  “He’d have liked for you to find those jewels, too, wouldn’t he?”

  Dylan laughed. “No doubt. Now get some rest, okay? I hope you’ll reconsider keeping that book of yours in the vault until after you’re gone. I imagine I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to wait to read it. You say it’s all in there, huh? Your whole life story? Everything, Grace?”

  She gave him a mischievous smile. “Well, maybe not quite everything.”

  He started to ask her if she knew what happened to the Ashworth jewels, but she was asleep. He left, driving straight to Carriage Hill and Olivia. He found her out back in her ever-expanding herb garden. “Noah was right. My presence here has changed everything. I have to go back to San Diego. I have someone I need to talk to—Loretta Wrentham, the woman who told me about Grace’s house. She’s my lawyer. We’re friends.”

  “She knows something?”

  “More than she’s admitted,” he said, certain he was right.

  “Do you think Philip took the jewels back to England with him?”

  “And risk getting caught with them?” Dylan shook his head. “No. I think he left them here. He expected to come back for them—”

  “And for Grace,” Olivia said.

  “And for Grace,” he repeated, picturing her as a teenager, saying farewell to the man she loved. He took Olivia into his arms and kissed her, knowing he’d be back, that he’d make love to her again. “Olivia…”

  She smiled. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He drove up the road to the house he’d inherited from his father. It felt different now. He saw a young woman starting a new life here with her bitter father and her stoic grandmother, facing more than they had ever anticipated having to face—eviction from their hometown, its removal from the map, a devastating hurricane, the onset of war and, most of all, giving up a baby to other people to raise.

  Maybe the story wasn’t unique, but it was their story.

  And it was his story, Dylan thought.

  He got back in his car and drove to Logan Airport and was on his way to San Diego by nightfall.

  The day after Dylan left for San Diego, Olivia’s parents, sister and grandmother all descended. Olivia brought them out to the terrace. Mark showed up, and Jess eyed him in that neutral, repressed way she sometimes had. Since Dylan’s abrupt departure, Olivia had gone crazy working on designs for everything that went with artisan soaps—packaging, bags, cards explaining the ingredients—and then went crazy in the kitchen, throwing together a pot of soup and digging out her grandmother’s recipe for molasses cookies.

  She sat restlessly with her family on what had turned into the most beautiful day yet that spring. They were still absorbing Grace’s reasons for taking off to Carriage Hill Pond. At Grace’s request, Olivia had told her parents and sister what she knew about Philip Rankin and the summer of 1938.

  Her father sighed. “Your grandma was a co-conspirator in getting Grace out of Rivendell.”

  “She wanted to borrow my car,” Audrey Frost said. “What was I going to do? Tell her no?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  She waved a hand in dismissal. “No one tells Grace Webster no. Not these days, anyway.”

  Her son kept his gaze on her. “Did you know about this jewel thief?”

  “No.”

  “But you suspected something?”

  “She’s older than I am. We didn’t get to be friends until later.”

  Olivia could see her father wasn’t buying that one. He leaned forward. “You’re being evasive, Ma.”

  She picked up a warm molasses cookie. “I haven’t made these in years. They smell wonderful, don’t they?” She took a bite, then sighed. “I always had a feeling Grace had a transforming experience that summer. It was before I knew her.”

  “A transforming experience?” Randy grinned, sitting back in his chair. “What do you old ladies talk about while you’re playing canasta?”

  “We’re journaling.”

  “Journaling?”

  “Watch out,” she said, eating more of her cookie. “I might write my own book.”

  Jess laughed, and Mark patted her knee, a subtle gesture that Olivia didn’t think anyone else noticed. He belonged in Knights Bridge, with Jess. Olivia pictured Dylan at a Frost gathering but wondered if he’d let himself belong anywhere.

  She put the thought out of her mind. “If you stole a fortune in jewels and didn’t want to take them back to England with you, where would you stash them?”

  Her father winced. “Don’t let that get around. We’d have every idiot in the universe here with a metal detector.”

  “I didn’t think about a metal detector,” Olivia said.

  Her mother helped herself to a cookie and sat back in her chair in the shade. “You could spend the next twenty years scouring the Quabbin woods and not get anywhere.”

  Jess smiled at Mark. “Lost treasure. Stolen jewels. Do you really think I’d ever be bored here? No wonder Dylan McCaffrey decided to clean up his yard himself.”

  Olivia noticed a bee buzzing in the lavender. “Dylan didn’t know until I wrote to him that his father had bought Grace’s house. I think they both came here looking for answers.”

  “Some secrets are best taken to the grave,” her mother said.

  “Not Grace’s,” Olivia said. “That’s why she wrote her book. She wanted her secrets to come out and for us to know that she’d loved a man, and she’d had a child and had the strength to give him up and to carry on with her life.”

  Olivia bolted up out of her chair and down a mulched path, past lady’s mantle and catmint to a rosebush she was nursing along. She’d wanted her family there, but she’d thought she could talk objectively about Duncan and Dylan McCaffrey, the decades-old jewelry robbery and Grace Webster’s secret past. But she couldn’t.

  Her mother joined her. “I moved up our trip to California. We’re going next week. If I wait for everything to be perfect here, for us both to have time, I’ll never go. I’ll have my cell phone and email.”

  Olivia realized her mother’s statement wasn’t as much of a non sequitur as she’d thought at first. “Mom…”

  She took a deep breath. “You and Jess will be fine. We all have our own lives, even if we all live right here in Knights Bridge.”

  “Dylan McCaffrey doesn’t belong here. At least that’s what he believes.”

  “Is that why he left?”

  “He said he had business in San Diego, but I also think he needed time.”

  Olivia noticed that her mother had gone quiet. Finally she said, “I waited and waited to get up the nerve to make this trip to California. Then I decided to take action, and that’s when the fear and second-guessing eased. I can’t say they went away and I don’t have my bags packed and I’m not on the plane yet, but deciding, acting—they’ve helped.”

  “I can’t just wait for Dylan to figure things out, can I?”

  Her mother gave a little shrug, and smiled. “I’d never interfere.”

  Mark left first, then her parents and grandmother. Jess stayed behind, helping herself to a bottle of chilled chardonnay and bringing two glasses out to the terrace with her. She filled the glasses and handed one to Olivia. “I want to get married here at Carriage Hill.”

  “Then you and Mark—”

  “No ring yet, no. I’m just saying that I want to get married here. Mark won’t care. He’d get married in a shed if it’s what I wanted. He can be…inert.” Jess grinned and sat down with her own glass of wine. “But I love him.”

  “What about Paris?”

  “I’m going to Paris. Then I’m coming home.”

  Olivia lifted her wineglass and clinked it against Jess’s. “I’d love for you to have your wedding here.” She smiled, trying her wine. “Just not tomorrow, I hope. I have more work to do b
efore I can put on a wedding.”

  Jess drank more of her wine, then said, “Do you think Mom will get on that plane to Los Angeles?”

  “Yes, I do, Jess. She’s determined.”

  “Will you worry?”

  Olivia swallowed and set down her glass. “Mom can’t not go because of me, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Dad says you probably have some kind of herb here we can chew on if we get nuts.”

  “I do, actually.”

  Jess grinned, but her humor didn’t last. “This thing with the missing jewels and Grace and the McCaffreys feels unfinished. I think you need to find the jewels. I can help look for them.”

  “Thanks, Jess.”

  They chatted for a few more minutes, and after Jess left, Olivia patted Buster and got him up for a walk. “I wish you could find the Ashworth jewels.”

  An offhand comment Mark had made at Olivia’s house had been bugging Jess. She finally put her finger on it and confronted him when she found him out at the pond by the old sawmill. “You were engaged once?”

  “I was twenty-two. It didn’t work out. We’d only known each other for a couple months.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered. I’ve known you for as long as I can remember. Hell, Jess, we used to jump in this pond together as kids. Remember?”

  “You tried to drown me.”

  “You and the drama.” He grinned and drew her into his arms. “Jess, I love you. You’re a romantic at heart. I’m…I can be a rock head.”

  “So can I. We’re kindred spirits in that way.”

  He laughed, then withdrew a small, navy-blue case from his jacket pocket. He opened it up to a sparkling diamond ring and got down on one knee. “Jessica Frost, I love you, and I want to marry you. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.” He took her hand. “Jess, will you marry me?”

  “Oh, Mark. Yes, yes, yes. I love you so much.”

  He slid the ring onto her finger and swept her into his arms as he rose. He had tickets to Paris and hotel reservations, with more adventures to come.

  Jess saw that her parents had arrived back at the mill. She and Mark went up and told them the news, and Jess showed them her ring. Her mother laughed and hugged her. “I’m so happy for you, Jess—for both you and Mark.”

  Her father sighed. “Finally. I thought I was going to have to get my shotgun.”

  He didn’t own a shotgun. Jess rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Dad.” She grinned at him, then was serious. “Are you two really going to California?”

  “We’re going,” her mother said.

  His daughters needed them. Randy Frost could see that same thought running through Louise’s mind after Jess left. Jess was excited about her wedding and would start making plans. And Olivia…Randy grimaced. His elder daughter had missing British jewels and a rich Californian on her mind, and she didn’t have a steady paycheck.

  Louise turned from the map of California tacked to her wall. “Jess and Louise will be fine without us. It’s hard to believe sometimes, but they’re grown now.” Her voice was steady but not loud, as if she were repeating words she wanted to be true rather than she was certain were true.

  “It’s not flying and driving that get to you,” Randy said. “It’s not having your chicks in the nest. It’s worrying about them.”

  “I remind myself that it’s a big piece of paper.” She shut her eyes a moment, as if imagining those dots of hers, then smiled at him. “There’s enough room for us all to live our lives and still be together.”

  Randy slung an arm over his wife’s shoulders. He saw that she’d added a couple more colored pushpins marking the places they’d stop on their trip. “Jess and Olivia live in Knights Bridge because they love it and they want to be here. They have lives here. If that changes, they’ll move on. They’re not here because you’ve held them back.”

  “They’re so independent. I never wanted to stifle that.”

  “You didn’t and you don’t. Maybe I did a little—maybe we both did a little, but not enough to do any damage.” He paused, cleared his throat. “Maybe I stifled you, just from wanting to protect you.”

  “You’re my rock, Randy.”

  “Yeah, but not because you’re weak. I’d crush you if you were weak, and you’re not.” He pulled her close to him and groaned. “Damn, Louise. Now I’m sounding like I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

  “I’d support you if you did. It’s a good thing, Randy.”

  Looking at his wife now, he couldn’t disagree. “Being independent doesn’t mean Liv and Jess have to move a thousand miles from us. It doesn’t mean that they don’t want us in their lives. Too bad if it does, because we’re not going anywhere.” Randy grinned. “Except to freaking California.”

  Louise smiled back at him. “I can’t wait.”

  “Good, because those rich nuts out there have arranged for a car for us and a suite at the Beverly Hills Hotel for the first two nights. Just until we get over jet lag.”

  “Dylan McCaffrey?”

  “He and Noah Kendrick.”

  Louise’s eyes widened. “You’ve been in touch?”

  “Yep.”

  Randy liked that he could still surprise her. He thought of the two of them heading off together, then coming home together, and he knew he was the luckiest man in the world.

  Twenty-Nine

  Dylan looked out at San Diego from his office windows, aware of Noah Kendrick behind him. “Olivia would love San Diego,” Noah said. “I can see her at your place on Coronado. She’d paint all the walls. She’d liven up that cappuccino-and-white look of yours.”

  “She hates to fly.”

  “I hate to fly. I do it all the time.”

  “Helps to have your own plane.”

  “Helps to have a good Scotch handy.”

  Dylan knew Noah was kidding. He might dislike flying, but flying was like driving to both of them. Just something they did to get to where they were going. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Noah.”

  “Your father complicated your life by buying that place, but his life was complicated, too. I took your lawyer to dinner. Straightened out what was attorney-client privilege and what I needed to know.”

  “As my boss.”

  “I’ve never been your boss, Dylan. Hell. You know that. We’re business partners. More than that, we’re friends. I wanted to know as your friend.”

  “Don’t tell me Loretta and my father—”

  “I’m not telling you anything. Your father couldn’t settle down, even if he wanted to. He had a restless soul. If he found those jewels, what would he have done with them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yeah, you do. He wasn’t an easy man but he was a decent one.” Noah gazed out the window. He was in an expensive black shirt and jeans today, as if to make a statement. “It’s been an intense few months, Dylan. You’ve been a big help. You always are.”

  “If you ever need me, you know I’m there.”

  “I know. Same here. I figure it’s time for us to get into venture capital. My role here is changing. Anyway, that’s for the future. This adventure travel thing of yours will only take up so much time. We’ll talk.” He turned to his friend. “Right now, you have a plane to catch. Mine. Go.”

  Dylan raised his eyebrows. “Noah, what have you done?”

  “I’m meeting Randy and Louise Frost in Beverly Hills. I want to make sure you’re in good hands with these people, plus I have some millwork I need done for my winery.” Noah settled back on his heels, a little hyper but also pleased with himself. “It’s time I had your back, Dylan.”

  “You always have. Noah—”

  “Just go, will you? Pack, lock the doors and take off.”

  Dylan headed out. He found Loretta Wrentham on his front porch. She held up a hand before he could say a word. “I adored your father but I knew the score. I found out he was adopted. He suspected but he didn’t know for sure
. His parents never told him—that wasn’t as uncommon then as it is now. He found that newspaper article in his mother’s belongings after she died. I think she meant for him to find it, so that it could be his choice to pursue answers or just let them be.”

  “She tore the article out of the newspaper herself?”

  “Right. It’s not Grace Webster’s handwriting in the margin. It’s your Grandmother McCaffrey’s handwriting. Maybe she thought Isaiah Webster was the jewel thief, foiled somehow since he never did have money, but, personally, I think she suspected that the jewel thief was her son’s biological father. Your father stuck it in that trunk of his and didn’t think about it again for years. Then two years ago he decided to check out Knights Bridge. He assumed everyone concerned would be dead by then.”

  “Grace—his birth mother—wasn’t dead.”

  “That’s right. And your father wasn’t going to upset her or do anything that would reveal her secret. Not for anything, Dylan. I see that now. I didn’t know. I’ve tried to put him behind me. I could have spared you a lot of pain.”

  “Pain?” He grinned at her. “No pain, Loretta. It’s been a hell of a treasure hunt, exactly what he’d have wanted.”

  She looked relieved. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  “No. You did what you promised to do. That’s enough. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Go, go.” Loretta gave him a quick smile. “The treasure hunt isn’t over.”

  He laughed and headed inside to pack for his flight east.

  Grace summoned Olivia to Rivendell and asked her to come to the sunroom. She was alone, a shawl wrapped over her thin shoulders as she stood at the windows. “I checked the copies of my book. I’d just had them printed when Duncan McCaffrey visited.” She paused, her eyes pinned on the view of the bird feeders and, in the distance, Quabbin. “One wasn’t in pristine condition. Someone had obviously borrowed it, read it and returned it.”

  “Duncan?”

  “That rogue. I remember now that I had the books out when he was here. They’d just come back from the printer. I’m not as young as I used to be, Olivia. I never let students put one over on me back in the day. Duncan, though…”