by Elle James
Dakota’s smile slipped from his face. “Nah. Not yet. Doesn’t it have to dry or something?”
Kayla nodded. “Or something. It does need to sit for a day or two and it could use a bit more touch-up.” The light in the cottage had faded, the storm they’d been painting edged closer to the mainland, billowing clouds pushing rain their way.
“I’d better get home before it starts raining.” Dakota carefully set the palette on the counter, dropping the brush into a jar of thinner and headed for the door. He stopped halfway there and turned. “Unless you want me to stay with you a little longer.”
“No. I’ll be fine.” Kayla smiled and walked with him to the door, flipping the locks and opening it to the outside. “Are you sure you’ll make it home before the rain? I don’t know…” She glanced at the sky as the clouds appeared to descend on Cape Churn.
“I’ll make it.” Dakota stepped off the porch. “Thanks for the lesson.”
“No problem.” She smiled at him and waved. “You really do have an eye for color.”
He grinned at her, the transformation making her catch her breath.
Before she could react, he raced back up the stairs and hugged her, then ran for his bicycle.
As he slung his leg over the seat, the clouds opened, dumping their contents.
Kayla yelled, “Dakota, come back inside. I’ll take you home.”
“No, I’ll be okay.”
Kayla took one step down toward him and immediately the rain saturated her clothing. A quick step backward put her under the protection of the eaves. “Please. I’d feel better knowing you were okay.”
Dakota stood in the rain, his shirt drenched, water dripping down his face so fast he couldn’t possibly see to ride.
“Please.” Kayla held her breath, afraid the boy’s pigheadedness would be the death of him.
At last he dropped his bike and ran back up the steps, shaking the moisture from his hair like a shaggy dog.
Kayla laughed and backed away. “I’ll get my keys and an umbrella. You can pick up your bicycle tomorrow.”
“I’ll wait here.” Dakota squeezed the water out of the hem of his T-shirt and shook his hands and arms.
Moving carefully across the tile floors, Kayla gathered her purse, keys, an umbrella and towels before joining Dakota on the porch.
She popped the umbrella open and held it over their heads as they made a dash for her SUV. Once inside, they dried off with the towels.
Kayla glanced both ways before pulling out of the driveway and onto the highway. The heavy rain pounding in from the ocean made it hard to see and even more difficult to drive. Several times on the way toward the B and B, her wheels hydroplaned, slipping almost uncontrollably across water and asphalt. As they neared a particularly dangerous curve with a steep drop-off on one side, Kayla slowed, staying in her lane, careful not to go too fast on the dangerously wet stretch of highway.
A hard bump from behind sent her shooting forward, headed straight for the guardrail.
“Look out!” Dakota threw his arms up to shield his face.
Kayla’s mouth opened to scream, but the sound caught in her throat. She couldn’t waste energy on screaming—she had to concentrate on keeping control of the car so that neither Dakota nor the baby would get hurt. The right-front bumper of her SUV rammed into the guardrail and skidded along the edge, scraping the passenger side as she wrestled the steering wheel all the way around the curve.
When she could bring the vehicle to a halt, she glanced into the rearview mirror, bracing for another bump. Nothing.
Whoever had bumped into them had disappeared, leaving behind a frightened teen and an equally frightened pregnant woman.
Dakota spun in his seat, his eyes wide. “What the hell just happened?”
“We were rear-ended.” Kayla eased her foot to the accelerator and said in a voice as calm as she could make it, “Please watch behind us and let me know if anyone is coming.”
Dakota tugged at his seatbelt and turned halfway around. “That dude could have killed us.”
Kayla nodded, her hands shaking on the steering wheel. She hurried as much as she dared to reach the B and B without risking spinning out on the standing water. When she pulled in to the parking area in front of the building, she shifted into Park and sat there.
Dakota grabbed for the door handle and yanked it open. Rain whipped in sideways. With one foot on the ground, he looked back at Kayla. “You okay?”
She nodded, afraid to speak.
“You should come in and wait until Gabe gets home. You gotta tell him about what that guy did.”
“Thanks, but I have to go.” As much as she was shaking, she couldn’t wait around for Gabe. What would she say? How should she act after what they’d done? Besides, what kind of report could she make? She hadn’t gotten a license-plate number—she hadn’t even seen the other car, much less the driver.
Dakota leaned into the car, a frown drawing a deep line in his forehead. “Are you sure?” When he looked like that, he was the image of his father.
After last night’s mattress gymnastics with the local cop and today’s scare, she was feeling a bit too fragile to handle a meeting with the sexy Gabe McGregor. “I’m sure.”
“At least let someone follow you home. What if that guy is waiting for you and hits you again?”
“I’ll be watching this time.” She forced a smile. “Don’t worry.”
He thought about it and shrugged, getting wetter the longer he stood there. “Do you want me to come for another lesson tomorrow morning?”
“I’m meeting with Emma Jenkins down at the marina around noon, otherwise we would. Let’s make it after lunch.”
“Emma’s cool. She’s teaching me to scuba dive.” He stepped away from the door, but didn’t close it.
“I’ll see you then,” Kayla prompted, waiting for him to shut the door and walk away.
“Gabe will be home any time. I’m sure he’s gonna be mad if I let you drive back to your place by yourself.” Ah, so that’s why he was standing there—he was stalling her until his dad got home.
“I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”
“Doesn’t stop others from worrying about you.” His eyes widened. “God, I’m sounding more and more like him.”
Kayla smiled, her bottom lip trembling. “That’s not a bad way to sound. Thanks, Dakota. I’ll be fine. I need to go to town anyway and get a few things.”
He looked reluctant, but nodded his agreement. “Tomorrow, then.”
“Remember to come in the afternoon,” Kayla called out.
“Gotcha.” The teen closed the door and loped to the wide front porch of the B and B. He stood under the eaves until Kayla drove away.
“Nice kid,” Kayla said to her baby, and same as always, having someone to talk to made her feel less alone. “Maybe I’ll get him to help me paint your nursery. Would you like that?” But despite her attempts to lighten her thoughts, she still felt uneasy about heading home. Instead of turning toward her cottage, she headed into town, feeling the need for a bit more company than her baby could provide, and too stubborn to admit to her fear of returning to the lighthouse by herself.
The small town of Cape Churn nestled in the side of the hills, facing the cape for which it was named. The downtown area sported several churches painted white with tall steeples, a few mom-and-pop restaurants and gas stations and the marina at the lowest point in town. During nice weather, it was probably bustling and cheerful, but today, the sailboats, small yachts and fishing boats that littered the miniature harbor were all still. No one was out walking on the decks, streets or sidewalks while the rain continued to pour.
Kayla parked in front of the Seaside Café, realizing the little bit of popcorn she and Da
kota had snacked on midafternoon had been a less than adequate meal for a pregnant woman.
“Mommy’s trying to be healthy, Baby, but you’ve got to know that I get absentminded when I’m painting. I’m trusting you to remind me when we need to eat.” Her stomach rumbled as she caught a whiff of cooking food and she smiled in approval as she patted her tummy. “Good job.”
She waited in her SUV until the rain lightened, then made a dash for the door.
“Welcome to the café!” A short gray-haired woman scrubbed a table with a damp cloth, then set the condiments tray back in the middle. “Can I help you?” The lady’s smile, more than her words, made Kayla feel welcome. Her cornflower-blue eyes sparkled as if laughter was second nature.
“I missed lunch.”
“Oh, honey, we’re still serving lunch. Sit yourself down right here and let me get you a menu.”
“Nora, order up!” a voice called through the window between the dining room and the kitchen. Another woman about the same age as the one she’d called Nora plunked down two heaping plates of chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes smothered in a rich, creamy gravy on the counter.
Kayla’s belly rumbled. “That smells good.”
“Tastes good, so they tell us.” Nora waved to the tables and the stool-lined counters. “Do you have a preference for where you want to sit?”
“The bar will be fine.”
The older woman stepped behind the counter, grabbed the two plates and swung back toward Kayla. “There’s a menu, have a look and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
“Thanks.” Kayla studied the laminated menu, the delicious aroma of home-cooked food tempting her even more as it drifted through the window of the kitchen.
“Now, what can I get you?” Nora stood in front of her, a pen poised over a small notepad.
“Though the chicken-fried steak looked wonderful, I’d like to try the broiled sea bass with the rice pilaf.”
“One of my husband’s favorites now that he’s on a diet. Not that you need to be on a diet, honey. You could probably use a little fattening up. Your eyes are all sunken in.” She frowned. “Wait, aren’t you the artist lady living in the lighthouse cottage?”
Kayla’s head spun with the woman’s quick changes in the conversational direction. “Yes, ma’am.” She held out her hand. “Kayla Davies.”
The woman smiled and took her hand. “Nora Taggert. I own this dump.” Her eyes twinkled. “May not look like much, but we get good reviews from both the Portland and Seattle food critics.”
Kayla’s brows rose. “I’m impressed.” Then she frowned. “Taggert. I’ve heard that name.”
“You met my husband yesterday morning. He’s the police chief.” The woman’s chest swelled out. “Been the chief for nearly twenty years.” Her smile faded. “And it’s been almost that long since we’ve had anything as horrible as a murder in this town.”
Kayla didn’t comment, guilt gnawing at her insides. No matter what Gabe said, she was still certain that Rachel Kendrick would be alive today if Kayla hadn’t come to Cape Churn. She’d always carry that sorrow with her.
Nora sighed, scribbled on the pad, ripped a sheet off and slid it into a clip on a stainless-steel carousel hanging in the kitchen window. She spun it halfway around. “Julie, got a sea bass for you.”
“Coming up.”
Nora faced Kayla with a smile. “You doing okay at the cottage all by yourself?”
Kayla forced a smile to her lips. Why go into the details of her terrible experiences? “I’m holding my own.”
“I understand Gabe McGregor has been looking in on you.” She grabbed a clean glass from beneath the counter and filled it with ice water from a pitcher. “I’ve known Gabe all his life.” She set the glass in front of Kayla and went about scrubbing the already clean counter. “He’s a good man.”
“Seems to be.”
“Poor guy didn’t even know his son existed until several months ago. The boy’s mother dumped the child on him in Seattle. Washed her hands of him like he was so much garbage.” Nora clucked her tongue. “That’s no way to treat someone you’re supposed to love.”
Kayla nodded, feeling for Dakota and for Gabe. Neither one knew about the other until a few months ago, and yet they had to coexist at least until Dakota was old enough to be on his own. Raising a teen was hard even in the best of situations. She wanted to ask about Dakota’s mother, but didn’t feel right about prying. She didn’t need to, Nora seemed more than willing to fill in the blanks.
“That woman was one of those summer transients. Stayed in a cottage down by the water with some friends. They hired Gabe as a caretaker to keep up the yard. She was older than him by a few years. Widowed. I think her husband died in a plane wreck and left her enough insurance money she didn’t have to work.”
Nora drifted off to the table with the chicken-fried steaks and refilled their water glasses. When she returned, she picked up as if she’d never left. “Gabe fancied himself in love. Would have picked up and moved back to Portland with her, had she offered.” The restaurant owner shrugged. “There I go talking too much.”
“No.” Kayla laid her hand on Nora’s, heat rising in her cheeks. “I don’t mind.” She wanted Nora to finish the story.
“That woman left without saying a word. No forwarding address, nothing. Gabe moped around town for weeks and finally left for Seattle to join the police force. Didn’t return until he got Dakota.” Nora smiled. “So glad to have him back. Especially with what’s happened. Can’t imagine a better man out there to help my husband find this killer.”
“Did you know the girl who was…murdered?” Kayla’s breath lodged in her lungs.
Nora shook her head. “No. She came in that day with a group of college kids. They all stopped in here for lunch.” Nora half smiled. “They were all excited about going down to the beach at night for a cookout, too impatient to drive a little farther to one that’s more accessible, especially at night. I don’t know what they were thinking. That trail down to the beach is treacherous even in daylight, much more so at night.”
“Could she have slipped?”
“From what Tom told me, she didn’t get those bruises around her neck from a fall.” Nora’s voice lowered. “Someone strangled her.”
For a moment, Kayla was back in that dark parking lot behind the gallery, strong hands gripping her neck, choking the life out of her.
“Ms. Davies?” Nora stopped wiping the counter and stared hard at Kayla. “Are you all right?”
The air whooshed out of her lungs and Kayla sucked in more. “I’m fine.”
“You turned as white as a sheet.” Nora’s brow knit. “Should I call a doctor or something?”
“No, really. I’m fine.” She gave Nora a wan smile. “I’m just hungry.”
Nora spun toward the kitchen window, her nice face creased in a frown. She opened her mouth, but before a word escaped, a plate plunked on the stainless-steel pass-through.
“Order up!”
Nora grabbed the plate and set it in front of Kayla. “Me and my big mouth. Talking about murders and such. It’s not good for the digestion. Ignore me and my ramblin’s and eat up.”
Kayla lifted her fork, her appetite having disappeared. For her baby’s sake, she ate, every bite an explosion of flavor, making the next even better. By the time she’d cleaned her plate, her outlook and her belly felt better.
“That’s more like it.” Nora sighed. “You got your color back.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Don’t go scaring me like that again. Next thing you know, I’ll be sending care packages of food up to the cottage to make sure you’re eating properly.”
“No need. I just haven’t gotten into a routine yet.”
The door behind her opened, the bell jingling. Kayla turn
ed on her stool.
Jillian ran in, laughing and shaking rain from her umbrella.
Lawrence Wilson followed, brushing the drops from his suit sleeves, wearing sunglasses, which Kayla found odd for a cloudy day.
“Hi, Nora. Oh, hi, Kayla. Just the person I wanted to see. Mr. Lawrence wanted to get another look at the cottage and lighthouse. He’s narrowed his choices down to three, and unfortunately the lighthouse property is one of them.” Her lips wrinkled. “Sorry.”
“No problem. Would tomorrow be all right? I’ll be away at lunchtime anyway.” That would also give Gabe time to remove the paint from the window. Though Kayla knew she wasn’t a whore, she didn’t want the rest of Cape Churn to see the horrible word.
“That’ll be great.” Jillian hooked her arm through Lawrence’s and herded him toward a table. “Nora, could we get a couple cups of coffee?”
“I’ll be right with you.” Nora laid the bill on the counter. “I’m the waitress, cashier, cook and janitor, whenever you’re ready.”
“Could I get a cup of decaf?” she asked, prolonging her time in the café. She was in no hurry to return to her empty cottage.
Nora poured Kayla’s cup, grabbed two more mugs and the other pot of coffee and walked across to the table where Jillian and Lawrence sat.
From the corner of her eye, Kayla watched as Nora’s friendly banter had the couple smiling and laughing.
How nice to know everyone in a town.
She glanced across at Jillian and Lawrence several times as she sipped more of the steaming brew. She caught Lawrence staring back at her each time while Jillian laid out printouts of the properties they’d be visiting that day.
Each time, Kayla looked away first, a twinge of uneasiness prickling her skin. Finally, she set her cup on the counter. Kayla didn’t even like coffee and she’d procrastinated long enough.
Pulling a bill from her purse, she laid it on the counter with the check, waved at Nora and Jillian and left.
The rain had stopped, though the clouds were still hanging dark and full overhead. If she got lucky, she might make it home before it started up again.