Secrets of Summer

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “Are you safe there?” Cassie had lived with her brother after college—Josh and Cassie had been unusually close—but after he’d been killed four months ago, she’d moved back to her mother’s home so they could help each other cope.

  “Yes. Yes, I think I’m safe.”

  “You don’t sound sure.” Cassie was nine years younger than Evan was, but he’d grown up next door. Since Josh was his best friend, Evan had spent a lot of time at their house, and he could recognize the doubt in Cassie’s voice.

  “No, I know I’ll be fine here. And I get it, why Mom’s so anxious. She’s afraid for me. She only has one child left. But she’s not getting better sitting around thinking about what happened.”

  “Any signs of the guy who...” He trailed off, not wanting to say it.

  “Noooo...” Her voice was uncertain. There was a pause. “No,” she said more firmly. “I mean, only in my nightmares.”

  His gut clenched. “I’m sorry, Cassie.”

  “I know you are.” Her voice was husky now. “We all are. And Mom really needs this trip, but I made the mistake of telling her I thought I spotted the, um, the intruder, once, and—”

  “You spotted him?” Evan’s hand went sweaty on the phone. “Where?”

  “I thought I spotted him. I’m sure, now, I was wrong. It was at a park where I was walking Ace. I’m fine, but Mom’s turned into the queen of all worriers.”

  Evan blew out a breath. The last time he’d seen Cassie and her mother had been at Josh’s funeral. Her mom, barely able to contain her grief. Her mom’s straight-backed live-in fiancé on one side, and Cassie on the other, a pale shadow of the lively woman she’d started to become with Josh’s help.

  “Did you tell the police you thought you spotted him?”

  She made a disgusted noise. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’ve basically stopped working on the case. Whenever we call, they just pass us off to victim services.”

  The idea that no one was trying to find the thug who’d created this misery made a slow, angry fire simmer in his gut, but he’d think about that later. Right now, Cassie needed him.

  She was twenty-eight but looked ten years younger and in terms of life experience, she was young. In some ways.

  “Give Mom a call tomorrow, would you? Not tonight, she’s upset.”

  “I’ll talk to her. And...look, what if we could find you a low-cost rental here in Pleasant Shores? It’s safe, and I’m here.” As soon as he said it, he thought of all the reasons it wasn’t a good idea.

  “Hmm. Maybe. Josh and I loved it there when we were kids.” She cleared her throat. “It would have to be really cheap, though, and take dogs.”

  “I’ll ask around.” Really cheap places in a waterfront community were rare, but it was the off-season.

  “Thanks. Love you. Bye.” Her voice was a husky whisper that sent an electrical surge down his spine. Which made him feel like a jerk.

  Take care of her if anything happens to me, but don’t you dare try to get with her. Josh’s prescient words echoed in Evan’s mind as he pocketed his phone and turned back toward the door of the Gull.

  He would call Cassie and Josh’s mom tomorrow, but he doubted he could be convincing. The truth was, he worried about Cassie. He’d figured she was safe, living with her mom and burly stepfather-to-be, but if they left her alone in the family home in Harrisburg...

  Cassie’s mom had helped Evan out a lot over the years, and he cared about her. She needed to get away from the site of all her heartache. Cassie probably did too, for that matter. Evan blew out a sigh, thinking. He’d check online tomorrow, see if there was anything vacant near him, cheap, and safe. A tall order.

  Evan’s friend William ducked his head as he came out the door. “You left in a hurry. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. An old friend’s sister, having some trouble.” Evan led the way back to their table. He didn’t feel like participating in the jovial conversation, not anymore, but he’d left his coat. “I should take off.”

  “Want a beer first?” It was a guy Evan didn’t know well who’d stopped by the table. He held up a pitcher and a glass.

  Evan’s friends turned as one and glared at the newcomer.

  “What?” the guy asked.

  “It’s fine. Chill,” Evan said to his friends. He did feel a slight tug, more of a dryness in his throat that only alcohol would fix, but it was nothing unmanageable. He gestured at the table. “I’ll finish my soda, but then I have to go. Early shift tomorrow.” And a cop in a small town couldn’t be late to work.

  He sat down and the conversation got general, someone continuing a story he’d started, the rest listening and laughing.

  “So your friend’s sister is having trouble?” William asked, scooting his chair back away from the others.

  “Yeah. Trying to find her a new place to stay.” Evan debated whether to say more, but only for a minute. In the short time he’d known William, he’d come to trust him as much as he’d trust any man. “She needs to get away somewhere safe, make a fresh start, to get over the fact that her brother, my friend, was killed.” He paused, took a drink of soda, and forced the memories and the regrets out of his mind. They’d been childhood best friends, and back then, Josh had basically saved him. Had tried to save him again when they were older, but Evan had pushed him away and they’d ended up running in different directions. Now that Josh was gone, Evan thought a lot about all the lost opportunities.

  “Killed like in an accident, or murdered?” William could ask the question because he was familiar with violence, had lost a daughter to it. He understood that it was okay to bring up a bad experience, talk about it, that something like that never really left your mind for long.

  “Murdered. Shot.”

  “Sorry, man.” They were both silent for a couple of minutes. “Are there safety issues for her? The sister, I mean.”

  “I don’t know. Her mom thinks there are.” Add the unsolved murder of her brother onto Cassie’s health issues, and Evan totally understood the worries.

  Take care of her if anything happens to me.

  The noise at the table had risen. One of the guys was leaning in, telling a joke that had the others roaring.

  “You know,” William said to Evan, “the guy at Victory Cottage is about to move out, and the person Mary had planned to have there next can’t come.”

  “Yeah?” The Victory Cottage program was for victims of violent crime and their families. They came to stay for three months, got counseling, volunteered in the community, and generally found healing. William had been a participant and was solid now.

  Evan was happy for William, but why had he brought up Victory Cottage when they were talking about Cassie? And then he got it. “You think Cassie could be a candidate for Victory Cottage?”

  “Might be. She’s a victim, right?”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “And now that you’re living next door, it’s more secure. If she is at any risk, or feels herself to be, she’d have some protection.” Having a local cop rent the place next to Victory Cottage was a recent addition to the program, and a smart one, after the cottage had been broken into by a lowlife from a resident’s past. Evan had been glad to oblige, since he was the only single guy on the force. He kept an eye on the place, his cruiser parked in the driveway serving as a deterrent to criminals and a reassurance to residents.

  Evan thought about what it would be like to bring Cassie to Pleasant Shores. She already loved it here, based on a couple of childhood visits. It was safe and the location was beautiful, right on the shores of the Chesapeake. The town wasn’t pretentious, but a real fishing village full of ordinary people for most of the year. And sure, the tourists would descend in the summer, liven things up, but it never got tacky-crazy like some of the beach towns over on the Atlantic shore.


  Evan could protect Cassie better here. He’d felt neglectful of his promise to do that—no surprise, neglect was his calling card—but he hated that he was letting Josh and Cassie down after all their family had done for him.

  Bringing her to Victory Cottage would solve Cassie’s problems and her mother’s, too.

  The trouble was, the last few times he’d seen Cassie, before Josh was killed, he’d gotten a feeling. She’d grown up, come out of her shell, turned into an interesting woman. And a very pretty one.

  Josh had seen what was going on before Evan realized it, consciously, and had called him on it. “No way. I love ya but I also know ya. You’re not dating Cassie. Ever.”

  Josh had been right, of course, and Evan had promised.

  Now Josh was gone, and Cassie needed Evan. There was a solution at hand.

  But staying away from Cassie while protecting her up close and personal—while living next door to her—was it even possible?

  * * *

  CASSIE THOMAS SET the last carton on the desk of her childhood bedroom and looked out the window for the tenth time. Where was Evan?

  And how many times, back when she was a kid, had she looked out this very window, hoping for something to happen, someone to spring her from her soft, comfortable prison?

  Bear, her big apricot-colored labradoodle, jumped his front paws to the windowsill beside her, standing like a person to look out.

  “We’re going on an adventure,” she whispered into Bear’s shaggy ear, and he nudged her with his nose as if to say he was excited, too.

  She straightened the cover on her single bed and put the packing tape and scissors into a neat stack on her desk. She’d replaced her childhood posters with good nature paintings, had brought the neutral comforter and pillow shams from Josh’s house, but the room still felt like it belonged to a kid. She’d packed up her dolls and supplies, but she wondered if her passion for dollmaking—a child’s pursuit, according to most—was what kept her feeling stuck in the past.

  “We can all back out.” Her mother’s voice quavered a little, and Cassie turned to see Mom leaning against the doorjamb, eyes red.

  “No way. You’re doing that trip, Mom.” She worried about her mother traveling far away from her therapist, but a trip back to Ireland where she’d been born had been a lifelong dream. Cassie and Donald had strategized about ways to help Mom stop spiraling into darkness, and that was what they’d come up with. Mom’s counselor had agreed, and though Mom had protested, just looking at brochures and websites had gotten her more energized than she’d been since Josh’s death.

  “I just feel better when I can see you,” Mom said now.

  “I know you do.” She went over and pulled Mom into a long hug, and Bear came over to lean against the pair of them. “But I’m excited about this Victory Cottage program, and with Evan living next door, you know I’ll be safe. He’s just as protective as...” She trailed off, her throat tightening.

  Mom recovered first, stepping back and patting Cassie’s shoulder. “I know you’ll be safe. And it’ll be good for you to get away, too.” She straightened her shoulders. “We can do this.”

  A car door slammed outside. Bear barked, and Cassie moved back to the window. There was Evan, climbing out of the driver’s side of a pickup truck and going around to the passenger side. He opened the door and helped a slender, white-haired woman climb out. Who was that?

  Evan looked good, of course. Her friends had always thought he was hot. Short hair befitting a veteran and cop, broad shoulders, his weathered face reminding her that he was thirty-seven—Josh’s age—and had already lived a life full of action and ups and downs.

  Mom came over and stood at her side. “He’s a good man in a lot of ways,” she said out of nowhere. “But he’s not for you. Dating-wise, I mean. You know that.”

  “Of course.” She glanced over at her mother, puzzled. Why would Mom feel the need to tell her that? Evan was Josh’s friend, not hers. He thought of her as Josh’s annoying little sister. Right now he was being kind, because she’d asked for help. But once she got on her feet again, once the three-month Victory Cottage program was over, their relationship would go back to the occasional text or phone call.

  The doorbell rang, and Cassie turned to go downstairs, but Mom put a hand on her arm. “I mean it,” she said. “Evan’s a recovering alcoholic, and kids of alcoholics can get drawn into the same patterns. You need to be cautious.”

  “I’m not going to fall for Evan Stone just because...” She trailed off, not wanting to say “you fell for Dad.” Mom had suffered enough, they all had, and she didn’t need to be reminded that marrying a heavy drinker had been her own choice. “I’m not in the market for romance,” she amended. Her childhood illness had pushed her toward being quiet and quirky, and men weren’t interested. Which was a good thing, because relationships meant dependence. Cassie had had enough dependence to last a lifetime. Anyway, she had things to do, a business to run.

  She and Mom went downstairs, Bear running ahead of them, and there was a flurry of introductions. The white-haired woman turned out to be Mary Rhoades, who’d started the Victory Cottage program, and she somehow herded Mom and Donald, into the kitchen so Evan and Cassie could carry her things out to the truck.

  “Mom, take Bear,” Cassie said, and Mom called the big dog. He trotted into the kitchen. He’d comfort Mom by his loving presence, help her keep it together.

  “That was brilliant, bringing the Victory Cottage woman along,” Cassie said to Evan once they were upstairs.

  “I know your mom will like her,” he said. “And she’ll offer a little more reassurance than I could provide. Mary’s great.”

  “Thank you so, so much for this. It’s the only way Mom would agree to the trip, and she really needs to go.” She wrapped her arms around Evan in a big hug, just like always.

  Just like she’d always hugged Josh.

  A heavy feeling settled behind her eyes and made her throat hurt. She’d never feel her brother’s embrace, never hear his ready laugh again.

  Evan tightened his arms briefly around her as if he could read her thoughts and then let her go quickly, half pushing her away. “None of that, we’ve got work to do.”

  He tested the weight of a carton before letting her carry it, waved away her protest that she could carry more as he picked up three of her actually heavy boxes and started downstairs.

  She needed to make sure he didn’t expect to keep her in Bubble Wrap. “You know I’m healthy now, right? No more cancer. I lift weights at the gym.” She flexed her arm to show her decent biceps.

  He raised an eyebrow, one side of his mouth quirking up. “So now you’re Wonder Woman?”

  “I could take you,” she said, the words coming out automatically before she could even remember why: she’d used to make that threat to him and Josh, back when she was a little kid trailing after them.

  Then, though, it had been “I could take you both.” Now, there was only one of the duo to joke around with. That heavy feeling settled behind her eyes again.

  Evan must have had the same thought, because his smile slipped away. They walked through the living room and outside, loaded the boxes into the truck, and then returned to the house. Inside, he stopped before a family picture, Mom, Josh, and Cassie. “Hard to believe he’s gone.” She saw him swallow hard.

  As they headed through the house and up the stairs, he kept looking around, and it hit her: he hadn’t been here for years. He had to be remembering all the days he’d hung out with Josh in their living room. They’d been as close as brothers at one time. She wrapped an arm around him as they reached the top of the stairs. “It’s hard, I know.”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.” He extricated himself, and they carried the rest of her things downstairs.

  They loaded the last boxes into the truck, and then he looked over at his old house. “Who l
ives there now?”

  “A nice family. They have a couple of young kids.”

  “Good.” He laughed, but it sounded forced. “About time your mom had some decent neighbors.”

  “Oh, Evan.” His parents had continued to live there until a couple of years ago, when they’d moved south. “Your parents settled down in the last few years.” They’d slowed down their drinking, Mom had told her, because both of them had developed some health problems. There were fewer loud, late-night parties. Mom had even started taking them cookies at Christmas, and once, she’d driven Mrs. Stone to a doctor’s appointment.

  She turned to tell Evan all of that, but he was looking over at his old house, his eyes far away, and she knew he was seeing into the past. She swallowed what she’d been going to say. He had a lot about his family and childhood that he needed to process; she got that.

  Mom, Donald, and Mary came out the front door, Bear pushing his way past them to run to Cassie.

  Mary followed the dog and put a hand on Cassie’s arm. “Your people are delightful, and I’ve promised to keep them updated on your well-being, within the bounds of your privacy, of course,” she said. Something in her wise blue eyes told Cassie that she’d gleaned some knowledge of the issues in their family, just in that short time she’d spent with Mom and Donald. Or maybe Evan had filled her in. “I’ll let you say your goodbyes. We’ll have a good opportunity to get to know each other during the drive to Pleasant Shores.” She opened the back door of the truck and climbed easily into the back seat. From her face, Cassie would have guessed her to be in her sixties, but she moved like someone significantly younger.

  “I’ll sit in back with Bear,” Cassie protested.

  But Mary scooted over and patted the seat beside her. “You sit in front and your dog can join me back here. Bear reminds me of my doodle, and I’ll enjoy his company on the way to Pleasant Shores.”