Rosemary Cottage

by Colleen Coble

  Shaking and crying, Amy ran up the stairs and flung open Heather’s door. The girl was sprawled across the bed with a Seventeen magazine in her hand.

  She bolted upright. “What’s wrong?”

  “You got a call,” Amy choked out. “It was Ben.”

  “You answered my phone?”

  Amy held up the phone. “I saw my brother’s picture on this phone. Of course I answered it!”

  “What are you getting all upset about? So what if he called me?”

  “He’s dead!” Amy threw the phone onto the bed. “At least I thought he was until today.”

  Heather got up. “Oh. Yeah, that.”

  “What is going on? I have to know right now. And where is my brother? I want to see him. Immediately.” She began to shake so hard she could barely stand, so she grabbed the edge of Heather’s desk and held on. “You have to tell me.”

  The girl bit her lip and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s not my business. You’ll have to ask him.”

  Amy knew she should be elated to discover her brother was alive. But she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that she wouldn’t like the reason behind all the deception. “I’ll be happy to do that. Where is he?”

  “He’s going to kill me,” Heather groaned.

  “If you don’t want to go back to jail, you’ll tell me right now where he is.”

  “He’s at a house on White Swan Beach.”

  “One of the four-by-four beaches?” There were fabulous houses along that northern stretch of Hope Island, but the only access was with a four-wheel drive.

  Heather nodded. “It’s a big blue house.”

  Amy grabbed her arm. “You’re going to show me.”

  Heather tugged her arm out of Amy’s grasp. “We can’t get there in your little car.”

  “Curtis will drive us.” Amy rushed out of the room and back downstairs to get her cell phone. Her heart pounded as the call rang through. Ben was alive. What did it all mean?

  “Amy. Is there news?”

  Sobs erupted from her throat. “I-It’s Ben.”

  “Ben? What do you mean?”

  “He’s alive, Curtis.” She told him about the call. “Can you come? The only access is with a four-wheel drive.”

  “I’ll be right there. Oh and, Amy . . . ?”

  She’d started to hang up. “Yes?”

  “I’m glad he’s alive, honey.”

  Her throat closed. “Thanks, but I—I don’t know what to think. He’s lied, to all of us. How can he even explain that? See you in a few minutes.” She ended the call and dropped her phone into her purse.

  Was that the back door? Her legs barely carried her to the kitchen, but the room was empty. A flash of movement caught her eye through the window. It was Heather, running for all she was worth into the trees.

  Amy leaped for the door and jerked it open, but by the time she reached the deck, the girl was gone. “Heather!”

  She raced in the direction she’d seen the girl, but though she called and searched for fifteen minutes, she couldn’t find her. There was a distant voice. Curtis had arrived and was calling for her. He sounded almost frantic. Retracing her steps, she rushed back to the cottage. He was standing on the back deck.

  Relief lit his features when he saw her. He leaped from the deck and caught her in his arms. “I was so worried when I couldn’t find you.” He pulled her close and rested his chin on her head.

  His heart thudded under her cheek, and she felt cradled and protected. His lips grazed her forehead, and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment of safety and contentment. Then reality intervened. Ben was out there, alive somewhere.

  She pulled away a few inches. “Heather ran off, Curtis. Without her, we have no idea which house. All she said was it was blue.”

  His breath whispered across her cheek. “We can stop at every blue house we see. We’ll find him. I can have the sheriff look for her too. She can’t get off the island without being seen.” Keeping one arm around her, he pulled out his phone. “I have to let go a minute, honey. I think you’re in shock. You’re still trembling.” He led her to the deck and got her seated on a step, then placed the call.

  Amy felt as though she were about to shake into a million pieces. How could Ben do this to her—to their parents? He’d let them believe he’d drowned and was eaten by a shark. Who was he, really? Not the brother she thought she knew.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Curtis had taken the top off his Jeep for better visibility. The big tires ate up the distance along the sand, smoothed by the outgoing tide earlier. The ocean breeze blew Amy’s curls into a tangled riot around her face. A few puffy clouds floated in the brilliant sky overhead. It was a perfect late afternoon—or would have been if they’d been out here for any other reason.

  So far, the few houses where they’d stopped had been either empty or occupied by someone who looked at them oddly for inquiring. The dunes had seemed endless when they started, but now there wasn’t much left of this stretch of beach before they would need to give up and turn around. There was no cell phone service out here either, so they would have to go back to a place where they had service to see if the sheriff had found Heather.

  The dunes rolled into maritime forest to their left, but he stayed at the waterline where the moisture had packed the sand into a smooth stretch of makeshift road. The recent storm had deposited more than the usual amount of kelp and seaweed.

  He glanced at Amy, who wore a pensive expression. “I can see the wheels turning. You’ve thought of something?”

  Her eyes were wide, and she bit her lip. “It may mean nothing, but Preston has a vacation house out here. He rarely uses it, but my parents visited once. It’s blue. I don’t know—it may be a wild card.”

  “I thought you’d absolved him of all guilt in this.”

  She peered ahead, then looked back at him. “It’s a little too coincidental, don’t you think? That he would have a house out here where Ben is?”

  “Maybe. Where is his place?”

  “Clear at the end.”

  Something niggled at the edges of his memory. “Wait a minute. That address book of your brother’s. There was an address listed out this way. I thought it was a fish house. Could it be Preston’s house?” He drove back the way he’d come until he had two bars, then pulled to the side of the road and called Edith and asked her to look at the note on his desk. He jotted down the address she gave him. “Let’s check this address.”

  She nodded, but tears stood in her eyes. “Why would Ben pretend to be dead? I don’t understand any of this.”

  He glanced at her. The anguish in her voice told him a lot. If he’d suddenly found out Gina were alive and had let Edith and him grieve all this time, he would have been devastated too. It was the height of selfishness. Though he’d disliked Ben, Curtis would never have pegged him as deliberately cruel to his family. Unless that money had been stolen or something. Maybe someone was after him.

  He drove along the beach and watched the signposts that designated the addresses.

  “That’s it!” She pointed to a large blue beach house set off at the edge of the maritime forest. “I recognize the widow’s walk on top.”

  “And that’s the address in your brother’s book.” He slowed the Jeep and turned toward the house. From here, it didn’t appear to be occupied. The hurricane shutters were shut, and the house had a closed feeling. The driveway was empty, but he drove on past and parked along the beach down the road. “I don’t want to warn him that we’re here.”

  Amy got out as soon as he parked. “I’m going to go around back. Lots of people out here hide keys.”

  “You don’t want to knock?” He followed her down the road and around the side yard.

  “No. He might not answer.” Her voice was tight.

  They reached the back, and she began to check the yard. Nothing under the mat or on the windowsill. No key around the garage. She headed for a small wishing well. All the bricks were right with
nothing hidden.

  “I don’t think it’s here,” he said.

  “Just a minute.” Lifting the flowers in the bucket of the wishing well, she exhaled. “It’s here.” She extracted a key, then headed to the back door.

  The big deck on the back appeared to have been coated recently with solid gray stain. The red-and-white-striped deck furniture looked clean and new, and there was no debris in the chairs, so someone had been here in the not-too-distant past, at least long enough to clean. He said nothing about it, though, as she stepped past the table and peered in the window of the red back door.

  “See anything?” He looked over the top of her head. “Looks like someone has been here. Dishes and glasses are on the counter.” They looked fresh too. The half-eaten peanut butter sandwich wasn’t moldy.

  “Peanut butter and jelly is Ben’s favorite.” She inserted the key in the door. When it clicked, she twisted the knob and opened the door. The aroma of some kind of soup rushed to greet them.

  Her face went even whiter. “Smells like tomato soup. Ben eats it nearly every day.”

  He followed her into the kitchen. Touching the pan on the stove, he nodded. “Still warm.” The distant sound of a television’s canned laughter came through the doorway.

  She tipped her head and listened. “MASH. Ben loves it.” Color washed up her cheeks, then faded, leaving her deathly pale again.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? Want me to go first?”

  She tensed. “No, I want to see his face and catch his first expression.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this, honey? It’s going to be hard. We both are pretty sure who we’re going to find in there.”

  She covered his hand with hers. “I realize now I don’t know my own brother. If Ben could deceive me so completely, what does that say about me and my discernment?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer her. Little by little, he’d gotten past her defenses, but he could feel her closing up, pushing him away. And who could blame her? What Ben had done was indefensible. It would shake anyone’s foundational beliefs about human nature.

  He pulled her into an embrace, but she came stiffly with her arms hanging to her sides. Her shoulders were rigid. “Let’s take this one minute at a time, okay? Don’t borrow trouble. Remember the money in the bank. Maybe he was hiding out for his own safety and didn’t want to pull his family into danger.”

  A bit of the tension eased from her body at his words, even though he didn’t necessarily believe them himself. He hoped it was possible Ben had done this unselfishly, but from what Curtis knew of the man, he doubted it.

  Her head on his chest moved, and she nodded. “I hope you’re right. Otherwise, this will kill my parents. And me.” She pulled away and wiped at her wet cheeks. “I’m ready.”

  She squared her shoulders and marched toward the sound of the television.

  Amy had heard this episode of MASH a dozen times or more. It was Ben’s favorite, where Hawkeye invents a Captain Tuttle to be able to get supplies to a nun. How appropriate that Ben’s favorite would be about inventing a person who never existed. She doubted her brother had done this for any kind of altruistic motive like Hawkeye.

  She moved to the doorway of the living room. A man sat on the sofa facing away. She immediately recognized the shape of his skull, the curve of his jaw.

  Her brother was alive and well, at least until she had a chance to kill him personally.

  Her first impulse was to rush in and hug him to death, even though what he’d done was incredibly selfish and hurtful.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she recognized them as tears of joy, but she knew tears of disillusionment and pain would follow on their heels. Alive. Ben was alive. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the truth as she stood and stared. He must have felt or heard something because he tensed. Ben slowly turned his head, and his green-gold eyes, so like hers, widened when he saw her.

  He rose, squared his shoulders, then held out one hand. “Amy.”

  “Ben,” she choked out. “I knew it was you on the phone.”

  His gaze flickered to the man behind her, and his lip curled. “Curtis. Is this your doing?”

  Amy clenched her fists and took a step toward him. “Is what his doing? The fact that you lied to me and to our parents? The fact that you told everyone Raine is your daughter?” She glanced around. “Is Raine here?”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “No, I don’t know where she is. I’d hoped to keep her safe.”

  “Safe from who?” Curtis put in. “I have to say this is pretty low, Ben, even for a scumbag like you, but we’d hoped you had her.”

  She’d known Curtis didn’t care for Ben, but she hadn’t realized until now how deep that dislike went. What had he seen that she’d missed? The deceit in the man, the selfishness?

  She swallowed the boulder in her throat. “Why?”

  Ben shrugged. “Better sit down. This is going to take awhile.”

  A woman spoke from the steps. “I don’t think so.”

  Zoe Kendrick stepped into view with a big pistol in her hand. It was pointed at Amy.

  “Zoe?” Amy couldn’t take her eyes off the woman’s cold eyes. This woman was nothing like the smiling, vivacious wife of a senator she’d always known. “What are you doing?” A familiar fragrance wafted toward her. It had been Zoe’s musky cologne in the house after the break-in.

  “Your brother won’t have the guts to do what needs to be done now, so I’ll take care of it myself. Luckily, we have no neighbors out here.” Zoe gestured with the gun. “Out the back. I don’t want blood on my floors.”

  Ben clenched his fists. “This isn’t necessary, Zoe.”

  “Good grief, Ben. Do you think either of these two are just going to go back to Hope Beach and forget they saw you? You should have thought of the consequences before you tried to blackmail Preston.”

  Blackmail? Amy stood rooted to the floor, unable to move a muscle. She had to understand this. If Ben had blackmailed Preston, would it have been about Gina? Maybe Raine was Preston’s child. Could he have had Raine kidnapped to protect her from Zoe?

  Curtis took a step. “Where is Raine?”

  Zoe’s finger tightened on the trigger. “If you move again, the bullet will go straight into Amy’s heart. I’m a very good shot.”

  Curtis held up his hands. “Fine, I’m not moving. But where is Raine?”

  Zoe’s eyes glittered. “Ben was going to help me eradicate the evidence. I suspect that somehow Preston figured out what was going on and had her moved to safety. But he has no idea I have Bossman in my pocket too. I was about to go take care of that problem when you arrived.”

  “You always said you wanted to be First Lady someday,” Amy said. “Preston’s affair with Gina and his out-of-wedlock child would derail all his political ambitions.”

  Zoe smiled. “I never would have known about her if Ben hadn’t gotten greedy, so I have him to thank for that. It requires a ruthless hand to cover these kinds of problems.”

  Amy could see the entire convoluted pattern. “Did Preston really love Gina? He bought her an expensive wedding dress. I bet he was going to leave you. Did he send me the e-mail suggesting Ben’s ‘death’ wasn’t all it appeared?” The expression on Zoe’s face confirmed her suspicions.

  Ben stood clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared at Zoe with an uneasy expression. “Is that how you ended up on the island? You got an e-mail about me? I wondered why you suddenly started poking into things.”

  Amy stared at the face she’d always loved so much. “But how did you get involved, Ben? I don’t understand.”

  Comprehension flashed over Curtis’s face. “I bet I know. Amy, you mentioned that he’s good friends with Preston. I bet he asked Ben to pretend to be Raine’s father to throw off suspicion when she became pregnant after working on his campaign.”

  Amy stared at him. “Ben?”

  Her brother didn’t meet her gaze. “Things got ki
nd of out of hand. That’s why I faked my death. I had a friend pick me up while I was out surfing. I tossed my wetsuit overboard and made teeth marks in my surfboard.”

  “I think you see we have no choice but to eliminate them. They’ve figured it out.” Zoe gestured with the gun. “Move. Out the door. The floor is tile, so I can shoot you here if you leave me no choice. Easy cleanup.”

  Amy didn’t know this hard-eyed woman, but she knew determination when she saw it. And outside, they might have a chance to escape. When Zoe cocked the gun, Amy headed for the back door. “Take it easy, we’re going.”

  “Slow down!” Zoe snapped. “My gun is on lover boy’s back, so if you try to run off, he goes first.”

  Amy slowed and took Curtis’s hand. They might be able to communicate by touch. They reached the deck and she paused, gauging what they might use as a distraction or a weapon. Would Ben allow this woman to shoot them? Amy couldn’t fathom the brother she knew standing aside and doing nothing to help them. She glanced back at Ben, but he didn’t meet her gaze as he brought up the rear of their little death march.

  The trees were thick where they walked along the back of the property. She could pretend to trip when they entered the forest. That might provide enough distraction for Curtis to grab the gun. But how to tell Curtis what she planned?

  She glanced at the path. The mulched walk turned before it ended. Branches littered the ground. A likely culprit to cause her “accident” was ten feet ahead. Squeezing Curtis’s hand, she tried to signal to the branch with her eyes and stumbled a bit. He gave a slight shake of his head, and she could only pray he understood what she planned. His fingers left hers as he reached to his head and adjusted his do-rag.

  They reached the branch, and Amy tensed. Her foot touched it, and she pretended to falter, then rolled across the limb. A shot rang out, but she was facedown breathing in the scent of pine needles. Rolling quickly out of the way, she sprang to her feet and turned to face Zoe.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Birds chirped overhead, and his feet kicked up pine needles as Curtis launched himself at Zoe. A shot rang out, and something ripped into his arm. He knocked the gun out of her hand as they both went down in a tangle of arms and legs.