Radcliffe held out one of the envelopes. Its flap was open, and Radcliffe's previously nonchalant expression instantly changed to a frown of anger.
"This has been opened. Who read my mail? Was that you?"
Amanda's first reaction was to gasp in surprise, but she steeled herself and made sure her voice was firm when she answered his question. "Yes, as a matter of fact, it was. I thought it was mine, and it wasn't until I read inside that I discovered they were to go to a Mr. Buster Radcliffe." She straightened herself up to every inch of her height and looked him square in the eyes. "I'm sorry it was necessary for me to open them, but I'm sure you can understand why I did it."
He gave a harrumph of disapproval. "Maybe."
Frustrated, Amanda decided to change the subject. "Can you tell me why they were addressed so strangely, so they wound up at my place?"
Radcliffe gave a little shrug. "Because that's how I told them to address it, that's why. I didn’t remember the exact address of this place, so I figured this would work. " He gestured around him, and Amanda noticed the fresh paint and gleaming woodwork. A paint can and drop cloth were set next to a small step ladder just inside the front door. " I'm not doing all this work just so I can have some fancy digs for myself, ya know. If that's what you thought, you've got another think coming, girlie. This here's gonna be the best, most popular, and well-reviewed bed and breakfast within fifty miles. I'm restoring it to its original glory, and with all the research I've done on how Ravenwood Cove is attracting tourists and business again, I can't see how an investment like this will miss."
"You mean..." Amanda's mind was whirling with what Radcliffe had said. "You mean you're going to compete with the Ravenwood Inn?"
He gave a small snort of laughter. "You're not the brightest bulb in the box, are ya? I'm not competing with anyone."
Amanda could feel the adrenaline rise in her. She hated being patronized, and she was definitely willing to dig in and fight for her beloved Inn.
"Well, if you've done your research so well, you must know that it's hard enough for me to keep the Inn going, with it being the only nightly lodging in town. Winter months are the worst, and—"
He cut her off. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say, but here's the deal. I’ll lay it out in small words so you can understand. To be honest, I’ve known about you and your business for some time. I kind of expected I’d see you coming around here with my mail. You don't really know what you're doing, and you don't have the resources or connections to pay for big ads, or to get important reviews that will get tourists here." He smiled and Amanda had the sudden impression she was facing a seasoned predator. "Getting this place redone is costing me a fortune, because I’m paying extra to have it done before the main tourist season, but that’s okay. It’s an investment in what I can get out of this town. I have very deep pockets, missy."
"I thought you were fixing up this house because you loved the town and were moving back home," she said, biting off each syllable as her attempt at keeping her temper was rapidly fading. The man was targeting her and her livelihood, and she hadn’t even known.
Radcliffe chuckled. "Love Ravenwood Cove? Look, I've never been anywhere or had anything where I didn't look at it and try to figure out if it was going to make me money or not. This place is a way to get me some cash, that's all." He smiled again, this one obviously genuine. "If it puts you out of business I'm sorry, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. If the Ravenwood Inn closes it means it's another property on the market for me to look at as a possible asset. Nothing personal. Just business."
For a moment, it was as if Amanda had gone completely deaf. She couldn't hear anything; her mind was so focused on the casual indifference this horrible man had about Ravenwood Cove. The fact that he’d laid out his plans for his newest investment, to cut into Amanda’s business enough so she'd have to rethink whether she could keep the constantly repaired Inn open, was infuriating.
She drew herself up to her full height and looked him square in the eye. "I'm sorry you feel that way," she said, not sorry at all for the tone of bitterness in her voice. "Most of the people who live here try to help each other out, and it sounds like all you've got on your mind is a quick buck. If that's what you think Ravenwood Cove is all about, then you're missing the best part of the community."
He leaned forward, the last few crumbs falling from his walrus mustache. "I couldn't give a rip about the community," he said, close enough she suddenly could smell liquor on his breath. "There's a whole big world out there, girlie, and if they were stupid enough to stay here while the town was dying before, then they're all a bunch of saps. Now, if you don't mind, it's time for me to take my shower, so I suggest you leave."
Amanda clapped her mouth shut in annoyance, and was only too happy when Buster Radcliffe's front door slammed shut behind her and she was standing outside in the fresh air. From the faces peering back at her she could tell she'd caught the attention of several of the workers. The man with the orange ball cap was standing by the driveway, a shovel in his hands.
"You okay?" he asked, and Amanda was surprised at the question.
"Not really, but I will be," she said, and the man nodded in apparent understanding.
"Yeah, he's not exactly Mister Congeniality, is he?" he said. "His checks clear, though, so we keep coming back, even when his deadlines seem almost impossible."
"You're working for him?" Amanda said, then blew out a pent-up breath of pure frustration. "Well, then you have my sympathies."
As she was driving home, trying to calm her hammering heartbeat, a realization suddenly hit her.
Roy Greeley.
She'd asked Roy to come do some much-needed repair to the metal flashing around one of the Inn's big brick chimneys and he'd said he was too busy to stop by. A sudden suspicion hit her.
It wouldn’t surprise her at all if her normally loyal contractor had been making sure to get some of the cash from Radcliffe’s self-proclaimed very deep pockets.
No wonder he wasn’t showing up to the Ravenwood Inn as often as he used to. The highest bidder had won his attention.
Chapter 7
"I'll be right with you," Jennifer sang out cheerfully as she heard the Ravenwood Inn’s heavy front door open. Shaking the last bit of flour off her hands, she used the corner of her apron to wipe the pie crust dough from her fingers and fixed a smile on her face as she walked across the kitchen to greet the new guest. As soon as rounded the doorframe and saw who it was, standing hesitantly near the main staircase, she stopped in her tracks.
Her greeting was definitely less cordial than usual. "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Does James know you're here?" she asked, her voice even but her eyebrows drawn together in concern.
Gable, James' outcast older brother, straightened himself up and flexed his lips into a rueful smile. "So, it sounds like everyone in town knows James and I have had our... differences. Are you going to be one of the people to prejudge me, too?" He took a step toward Jennifer and she had the sudden impulse to back up and run. There was something about the man. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored suit when most folks in Ravenwood were happy in t-shirt and jeans, quieter and more guarded than most people, and with a certain air of distraction, as if his life was actually going on somewhere else. Whatever it was that made her nervous, she tamped it down as hard as she could and stood her ground.
"I don't prejudge anybody. I just thought you were trying to get in touch with James." It was a half-truth. She knew James hadn't even told Amanda the details of the huge argument that had split Gable from the rest of his normally loving family. Crossing her arms over her chest, white flour still embedded around her fingernails, she did her best to smile. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you know where he is? He's not answering his phone."
"I think he's out working on a case." She gestured vaguely toward the door. "If you’re looking for his wife, Amanda was doing some final work on the new house today. The last
I heard, she'd gone to the hardware store to pick up some cabinet pulls she'd special ordered." She looked him over, sizing him up. It didn’t hurt her past training had taught her how to evaluate a person as a potential threat, or that she had a very good chance of defending herself against anyone who might try to mess with her. Finally, she smiled thinly. "Want some coffee?"
He looked past Jennifer toward the kitchen. "You know, that would be really great. I've been so busy wrapping up details in the area I haven't had a chance to even sit down today."
"Well," she said, turning on her heel and leading the way, "it sounds like you'll need something to eat, too, and I just baked some fresh cinnamon rolls. Want one?" When it came to feeding people, Jennifer had a practical streak a mile wide, regardless of family spats and drama.
She wasn't disappointed. "That'd be great," Gable said, sliding into one of the tall seats at the marble-topped kitchen island. He watched as Jennifer poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him, along with a small pitcher of cream.
"Sugar?" she asked. He shook his head, and she used a table knife to dig a fat cinnamon roll out of the pan cooling on the counter. Slipping a plate under the pastry, she put it in front of him, then sat down on a wooden stool behind the opposite side of the broad island.
"This is amazing," he said, his mouth full of luscious crumbs and his eyebrows raised in appreciation. "How did you do this?" Taking another huge bite, he didn't miss Jennifer's smile of smug satisfaction.
"I'm glad you like it, because it's gonna cost you."
He instantly stopped chewing, and his eyes widened as he waited for whatever Jennifer was going to say next.
"You didn’t think you were just going to waltz in here and have a snack, when I don't know if you're allowed to be around my friends or not, did you?" Jennifer said, her friendly tone gone. She leaned forward, her eyes locked on his. "So, what's the deal, Gable? Drug dealer? Gambler who lost his college fund? Fooled around with the wrong cheerleader? What did you do?"
If his angry glare could've killed her where she sat, he would've been completely satisfied.
"None of your damn business," he growled. "It's private."
Jennifer shook her head. "Nope. It's not private to me, not when they're my friends and they're not comfortable with you back in their lives. They’re like my family, so that makes it even more important. When my father died, Amanda took a chance on me and gave me a job." She took a deep breath. "I haven't forgotten that. There aren't many people I love, but I'll do whatever I can to protect James and Amanda."
Setting his roll down, Gable finished chewing and calmly brushed his hands together. "So, what are you going to do? Question me over stuff you don't know anything about? Yell at me?" He gave a small smirk; "Or just beat it out of me, huh?"
Jennifer could feel her blood start to boil, the pressure of anger suddenly building behind her eyes. Gable didn't have any idea how much specialized training she'd had which would enable her to cripple him in horrible ways. She hadn't actually gone into the field as a government operative, and it had been a few years since she'd been in the program, but the things she'd learned could be deadly if she needed to protect herself.
Or other people.
Her thoughts flashed back to the memory of a hired hitman who'd broken into the Inn, intent on killing Amanda, and the huge fight she'd had with him in the front parlor. It had been so loud and violent it had finally brought Amanda out of her bathtub to see what all the noise was downstairs, and it had taken all Jennifer’s skills to stop the professional gunman. By the time he'd crashed face down on the floor, she was wheezing with exertion and grateful she'd been able to finally hit him hard enough to make him pass out.
She didn't like violence, but if she had to resort to that to protect Amanda, she’d be happy to dust off her old aikido moves and do her level best to be sure Gable never bothered them again.
The smile she gave him was without warmth.
"Now, do I look like I'd do a thing like that?" she said sweetly, and Gable looked a bit concerned, then pushed back from the tabletop and stood up.
"Actually, yes, somehow you do." He picked up his coffee and took a long sip, his eyes never leaving Jennifer's. Setting the mug down, he said, "Thanks for the snack."
"No problem," Jennifer said agreeably, her hands now folded together in front of her, her face perfectly calm.
He gave her one last look, seemingly puzzled, and walked out of the kitchen, with her trailing a few yards behind him. As he put his hand on the front door handle, he turned toward her again. "Not many people confuse me. You’re a rarity,” he said. “I'll be seeing you later."
"Count on it."
And with Jennifer's softly spoken words lingering in the air between them, he stepped through the doorway and was gone, not sure if what she’d said was a promise or a threat.
Chapter 8
"Nice of you to get a break from work," Amanda said with a warm smile for her husband. "I was just down at Sage's mechanic shop when I got your text. You sure you have time for lunch?" she asked as James ushered her through the front door of Ivy's Cafe.
He smiled back, shutting the door behind them. "I'm making time today," he said. "Don't tell my boss, but sometimes the one thing that keeps me from caving in from all the crud I have to deal with is just seeing you." His words were sweet, but Amanda could see the fatigue on her husband's face.
"Tough day?"
"The toughest."
Amanda clutched his hand in silent sympathy as Ruby picked up some menus and walked them into the dining room. She knew the worst days for James were anytime he had to deal with something terrible happening to children, and sometimes it was better not to ask about the details of what he’d had to deal with.
Ruby stopped and looked around the busy room. "I don’t have any booths available right now. Is a table all right?" she asked and gestured at a table for four toward the back of the room. James nodded, then helped Amanda peel off her jacket and hung it on the nearby coat tree, then plopped into the wooden chair as if he was exhausted.
“How about a couple of bacon cheeseburgers and two cokes, Ruby?” Amanda said, and their waitress jotted their order down on her notepad and headed back toward the kitchen.
"Don't you worry about me, lady. I'm okay," he said, giving her a small smile, but Amanda wasn't having any of it.
"It's my job to worry about you."
"And you do it so well,” he said with a small chuckle, then abruptly stopped and stared toward the door.
Amanda turned, following her husband’s gaze. Standing in the doorway was a tall man who was a near reflection of James, his dark hair a bit longer, his clothes a bit more cosmopolitan. He was staring directly at them, then slowly strolled toward their table.
Amanda could hear the tension in James’ greeting. "Gable."
There was a moment of hesitation as the brothers, so close in stature and appearance, locked eyes.
"James."
Wow, you could scrape ice off that, Amanda thought, her eyes darting between the two men.
"What are you doing here?" James' voice had a hard edge to it Amanda had never heard before. His jaw was clenched in a tense line as the two men looked at each other. Finally, Gable gestured at the open chair next to James.
"May I sit down?" he asked, locking eyes with his younger brother. Amanda caught herself holding her breath as she waited for James' response. He'd never told her what caused the fight that had barred Gable from being around his family, but she'd never gotten the impression he was a dangerous man.
"Suit yourself," James said.
Gable slid his tall body onto the chair's seat and looked around, then held up a finger to get the waitress' attention.
"Can I buy you a beer?" he asked, looking at Amanda, then at James, but Amanda quickly corrected him.
"Ivy's doesn’t have a liquor license, Gable. Sorry."
"And we've already ordered," James said, shifting in his seat so he could put an arm a
round the back of Amanda's chair
When Ruby came over, order pad in hand, Gable gave her a charming smile. "Do you have Dr. Pepper?" he asked, and Ruby nodded and wrote it down.
"Cold, still in the bottle,” he added. "How's the chowder? Still the best anywhere?" he said, which earned him a quick smile from Ruby.
"Best anywhere on the coast, and made with fresh clams and local potatoes, just like always. Want a bowl?"
When he nodded his assent, she walked back to the kitchen, a spring in her step, and Gable watched her go.
"Didn't you used to date her, James? Back in high school?"
James gave a small bark of bitter laughter. "Your memory isn't what it used to be, brother. Ruby and I were friends. We still are. That's all."
Gable ignored James' response and leaned over toward Amanda. "You know, we never have really been introduced. I'm Gable, the black sheep of the family."
Amanda smiled nervously. "Thank you for coming to our wedding. I'm glad you showed up."
"Are you?" Gable asked, feigning surprise. "I know I made a lot of people uncomfortable that day, but I figured it was worth it to see my little brother married off. My invitation must’ve been lost in the mail."
James was visibly irritated at Gable’s words. "Did you come to see my wedding, or did you come to make a point?"
"I came to show I'm still part of the Landon family, even if some people think I'm the devil himself." Gable had turned toward James, his expression changing from agreeable to deadly serious. "I think I have a right to come back and try to explain things. It's not like anyone’s given me that chance in the past."
James' eyes narrowed as he glared at his brother. "It's not like you earned it," he said, and Gable gave an exasperated sigh.
"Really, James? You were always the one I could talk to, the one who believed in me. You had my back in any fights we had with bullies or with our brothers. I've told my side of it. Why don't you believe me?"
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