In Shelter Cove

by Barbara Freethy

  Eventually, she’d left Angel’s Bay and gone to college and medical school, along the way coming into her own. She knew who she was now. As for what she wanted . . . well, that was still to be determined. She wasn’t very good at long-term relationships. She’d never figured out how to let someone all the way in. It was too damn scary to be that vulnerable; it was much easier to keep things light and fun.

  She got out of her car and crossed the lot. Andrew gave her a wave as he finished his conversation. His black slacks and black shirt were set off by his neatly combed blond hair; despite his conservative dress, he was a handsome man. At sixteen, he’d made her heart jump into her throat, and she wasn’t immune to his charm now, especially when he flashed her his golden-boy smile. He’d probably gotten the closest to her of anyone—but look where that had ended.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said as she joined him on the steps. “I’m glad you could get away from work.”

  “No problem. Is Annie here yet?”

  “No, but the Lowells have arrived. I had Jeannie take them into my office.” He glanced down at his watch. “I hope Annie didn’t forget.”

  “She mentioned it this morning.” Charlotte hoped that Annie hadn’t backed out. “But she is nervous. She isn’t sure that she wants to give the baby up. I don’t want you to push her, Andrew.”

  “Do you think that’s what I’m doing?” he asked in surprise. “I just want her to explore all of her options.”

  “I know, but you’re also very persuasive. Annie wants to do the right thing, and she doesn’t want to disappoint you.” She remembered a time when she hadn’t wanted to disappoint him either, but she shook that errant thought out of her head.

  “Adoption is a good solution for her situation, Charlotte. You and your mother have been generous to take Annie in, but do you really want to take on a baby, too? And if you don’t, where will Annie go?”

  She understood his argument all too well. “It still has to be her decision. Did you explain to the Lowells that Annie is unwilling to name the biological father?”

  “Yes. They’re hoping that Annie will change her mind, but they’ve been waiting for a baby for a long time, and they’re willing to take the chance.”

  “It’s a risk. If the father suddenly appears and wants the baby . . .”

  “I agree. But let’s take it one step at a time.”

  “I wish they were Angel’s Bay people, so we’d know more about them,” Charlotte said.

  “It might be good that they live in Montgomery. It could be difficult for Annie to live in the same town as her child and not be able to mother her. But I also have some Angel’s Bay couples who are interested in adopting.” He paused, giving her a considering look. “I would think that as an ob/gyn, you’d be cheering on the idea of adoption. You must run into a lot of infertile couples desperate to have a child.”

  “I do, and I’m in favor of adoption. But Annie has become like a little sister to me, and I know how connected she is to this child. She’s always stroking her belly and talking to the baby. She reads parenting books and eats all the right things. This baby gives her a family again, and she really wants that. At the same time, she wants to give her child more than she had. She’s torn.”

  “Sometimes the right thing to do is the most difficult.”

  “Now you sound like a minister.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?”

  She offered him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean it that way. Actually, I wanted to tell you that I thought you did a great job at Derek’s memorial service yesterday. You really personalized it. I’m sure it meant a lot to the Kanes to have you perform the service.”

  “I hope so.” His gaze turned reflective. “Sometimes I don’t know how your father presided over so many funerals for people he knew and cared about. Last week at Mrs. Johnson’s service, I could hardly keep it together. She used to make me cookies and drive me to baseball practice, and only a month ago she was attending Sunday service. Her husband couldn’t stop crying after she died. He came to me looking for wisdom, hope, peace, and I didn’t know what to say. I felt like a fraud.”

  She saw the uncertainty in his eyes and realized that Andrew was still finding his way. “I’m sure you gave him exactly what he wanted. You have a gift for being able to see what people need. I’ve watched you the last few months, and people respond to you. You say things in a way that means something to them. That’s a gift.”

  “It means a lot to me to hear you say that.” A smile curved his mouth. “But if I have that gift, why can’t I see what you need? Why can’t I give you what you want, Charlotte?”

  She drew in a surprised breath. “Because I—I don’t know myself.”

  “We could be good together. We were good together.”

  She shook her head. “We were terrible together, Andrew. We fought, we lied, we drove each other crazy.”

  “And I cheated on you,” he finished. “But I’ve grown up since then. Give me another chance.”

  She let out a sigh. “You do tempt me, but—”

  “No buts,” he said, cutting her off. “Let’s leave it with the fact that I tempt you. That way, I still have a chance. And Annie’s here.”

  Charlotte turned around to see Annie waddling across the lot. In her last month of pregnancy, she was all baby. With her jeans and T-shirt and her long blond hair in a braid down her back, she looked far too young to be having a child.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Annie said breathlessly as she joined them on the steps. “Did they leave?”

  Charlotte thought she detected a hopeful note in her tone. “They’re inside,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m nervous,” Annie confessed.

  “All you have to do is say hello and get to know them a little,” Andrew said.

  “They’ll think I’m bad for being unmarried and pregnant.”

  “No one is judging you. Just try to relax and be yourself. There’s no pressure. You don’t have to make any decisions today.”

  “Okay,” Annie said. “But I need to use the restroom first.”

  “We’ll meet you inside.”

  “You really are good at getting people to do what you want them to do,” Charlotte murmured as Annie entered the church.

  “Prove it. Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  “Andrew, you need to stop asking me out,” she said in exasperation.

  “Not until you say yes. Come on, Charlie, it’s just dinner. Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me again over lobster at the Blue Pelican?”

  “Yes, lobster always makes me a little giddy,” she said lightly.

  “Then you can order something else. I just want to talk to you for more than five minutes in passing. What do you say—one dinner for old times’ sake?”

  “You only want me because I’m saying no. You always liked a challenge.”

  “Then say yes, and maybe I’ll lose interest,” he said.

  “Fine. One dinner. And I’ll meet you there. I don’t want my mother to get any ideas about us.”

  “Your mother likes me.”

  “Exactly—another strike against you.” She marched past him into the church. “Let’s go meet the Lowells. I have to get back to work soon.”

  * * *

  After her frustrating trip to the police station, Brianna spent several hours unpacking and setting up the house. By three o’clock, she was more than ready for a break, so when Nancy stopped by to ask if she and Lucas would like to take a walk into town, she readily agreed. They dropped the puppy off with Rick and then headed down the hill.

  “I thought we’d stop in at the new bakery that just opened,” Nancy said. “It’s called Sugar and Spice, and it’s run by a local girl, Lauren Jamison. Lauren was a year younger than Derek, but she spent time with him and some of his friends. I’ve heard that the bakery is really good.”

  “Sounds great. Lucas, wait for us to cross the street,” she added as her son ski
pped ahead to the corner.

  Nancy smiled at her. “Lucas has so much energy, just like Derek did. We used to take this same walk when Derek was a little boy. We’d say hello to Rick at the hardware store, then we’d pop in at the quilt shop so I could pick up new threads, and our last stop would always be Martha’s Bakery, where we’d get a tart filled with whatever fresh fruit was in season. Those were good days.”

  Brianna saw the tears gathering in Nancy’s eyes and slipped her hand into hers, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Now you can share the tradition with Lucas.”

  “I’m so happy you agreed to move here, Brianna. It helps to have you and Lucas nearby. It makes me feel closer to Derek.” She cleared her throat. “But we’re not going to be sad today. There have been enough tears.”

  “I agree.” Seeing the prison walls every night outside her window had made her feel as trapped as Derek. The view from the hills of Angel’s Bay was quite different, and she loved the infinite beauty of the landscape. “It’s a gorgeous day.” The clouds from yesterday had blown by, and there was nothing but blue skies and bright sunshine.

  “I hope the weather holds for the Harvest Festival this weekend. You’re going to love all the festivities. And then next week we head right into Halloween. Does Lucas know what he wants to be?”

  “He’s changed his mind half a dozen times already, and I don’t think he’s done yet.”

  “I’m sure the preschool will have a lot of activities. Lucas is set to start next Monday, right?”

  “Yes,” Brianna replied. “Which means I need to find a job. The local schools don’t have any openings for teachers, but they put me on the sub list. The high school principal is fairly confident they can use me in the spring, but in the meantime, I have to find something else.”

  “There’s an opening at the quilt shop.” Nancy said. “It’s only about fifteen hours a week, but it would be a little cash, and it’s a great place to meet people. I can watch Lucas for you.”

  Brianna gave her mother-in-law a suspicious look. “Don’t you work part-time at the quilt store?”

  Nancy grinned unrepentantly. “Well, I did, but I’d much rather spend time with Lucas. I talked to Fiona Murray, the owner, and explained how wonderful it would be if you could take my place for a while. She was quite agreeable. She’ll be there this afternoon if we want to stop in.”

  “So this wasn’t just a casual walk,” Brianna said.

  “We don’t have to go today; it’s up to you. If it’s too soon, Fiona will understand. She comes across as a tough old broad, but she’s a sweetheart inside.”

  Brianna thought about the offer as they crossed the street. It was soon, but why not start working right away? She could always use the money, and perhaps people would be more inclined to talk to her about Derek and the theft if she wasn’t such an outsider. “I’d like to do it, if they’ll take me on,” she said finally. “I’ve never worked in retail.”

  “You’ll pick it right up. You already know how to sew and I’ve shown you the basics of quilting.”

  “That’s true,” Brianna murmured.

  You’ll meet people, too. Quilting is very popular around here. Our community quilting nights draw quite a crowd,” Nancy added.

  “What’s that over there?” Lucas asked, interrupting their conservation. He pointed to the hillside above the beach, where a dozen kites were flying.

  “They’re practicing for the kite-flying competition this weekend,” Nancy answered. “Your father won it three years in a row when he was a kid.”

  “He did?” Lucas asked, clearly impressed. “Can I do it, Mommy?”

  “Sure, I guess so.” She knew nothing about flying a kite, but how hard could it be?

  “They have kite-building kits at the quilt shop,” Nancy told her. “We can pick one up when we’re there.”

  As they neared the waterfront, the streets grew more crowded. It was long past lunch, but the smells of garlic and fish still lingered in the air. People were lined up at Carl’s Crab Shack to buy clam chowder in bread bowls. Coffee was brewing at the Java Hut and warm, salty pretzels were being sold on the corner by a street vendor. It was like a picture postcard: the boats rocking in their slips, people riding their bikes or strolling along the bay. A beautiful, idyllic seaside town.

  But as they turned a corner, Brianna’s sense of peace fled. Amid the clothing boutiques and cafés was the Markham Gallery, anchoring the far corner with its impressive brick-walled presence. There Derek had gotten his first exposure to the world of art dealing and had made his initial contacts. The gallery was one of the first places he’d taken her to when he’d brought her to Angel’s Bay. Everyone had been so happy to see him, greeting him like a long-lost friend. How quickly that had changed after the robbery.

  “There’s the bakery,” Nancy said. “Why don’t we get our treat before we go to the quilt shop? I’m a little hungry.”

  “Can we, Mommy?” Lucas asked eagerly.

  Brianna hesitated. “Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll window-shop for a few minutes and meet you back here.”

  Nancy took Lucas’s hand and crossed the street. Once they had entered the bakery, Brianna headed toward the gallery, which was housed in a three-story brick building with floor-to-ceiling windows. She stepped inside the airy space, feeling as if she were stepping back in time. A wall of beautiful mirrors greeted her, their cut glass sparkling under the light. Tall white columns divided up the space, and paintings hung prominently on the walls. A black granite counter fronted a small reception area, where a young woman sat behind a computer. She appeared to be in her late twenties, with dark brown hair pulled back in an elegant updo. She spoke on the phone in low tones, lending an air of hushed importance to the room. When she saw Brianna, she ended the call and rose to her feet with a welcoming smile.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Brianna hesitated, not sure where to start. The Markhams had been interviewed by the private investigator and the police. What on earth could she hope to find out?

  “I know you,” the woman said suddenly, her gaze narrowing. “You’re Derek Kane’s wife, aren’t you?

  “Yes, I am,” Brianna replied, surprised. “Have we met?”

  “No, but I saw you at the trial. I’m Katherine Markham. My aunt and uncle, Gloria and Steve Markham, own this gallery. I was really sorry to hear about Derek’s death. He was a good guy.”

  There was no judgment on Katherine’s face, which was surprising. The local art community had turned on Derek. He’d stolen paintings of great importance to the community, and the breach in security had led to the abrupt end of the art festival, which had never been reinstated. Brianna cleared her throat. “Did you know my husband well?”

  “A long time ago. Derek and I both worked here in high school, and we occasionally painted together in Wyatt’s studio. Derek was a fantastic artist. I was disappointed when he stopped painting and went into the business end. I thought it was a terrible waste of his talent. Then again, Derek wasn’t big on living the life of the starving artist, so I guess it made sense.”

  Brianna frowned at the mention of Derek’s artistic talent, which he’d always been unwilling to share with her. When she’d asked to see some of his work, he’d cut her off, telling her flatly that there was no work to be seen. He’d destroyed it all after his last conversation with his grandfather, who had apparently deemed his art a failure.

  “So you know Wyatt, too,” Brianna said.

  “Oh, sure, everyone in the art community knows Wyatt. He’s a crazy-good artist but also demanding, ruthless, and a little cruel. He and Derek had their battles.” Katherine paused, giving her a curious look. “So you’re living here now?”

  “Yes, we just moved in this week. I have a son, Lucas.”

  “I heard. I can’t imagine Derek with a son. He never quite seemed like a grown-up to me, even after he grew up.”

  That was true. Derek’s boyish charm had been one of his most appealing tr
aits. “Were you here during the art festival five years ago? Derek introduced me to a lot of people, but I don’t remember meeting you.”

  “I was out of town on a buying trip. By the time I got back, Derek’s trial was already under way. I was stunned when he was found guilty.” Katherine paused as the phone rang. “I’d better get that. Feel free to look around.”

  As Katherine took the phone call, the front door opened, and Wyatt and the Markhams entered the gallery. Brianna’s heart skipped a beat, and her throat felt suddenly dry. Derek’s grandfather was dressed all in black, which seemed to be his usual attire, the dark clothes contrasting with his wild white hair.

  Steve Markham was a sophisticated, well-dressed man in his mid-forties, with short brown hair that matched the color of his eyes. Gloria appeared a few years younger, with black hair and olive skin that gave her an exotic beauty. She wore a sophisticated turquoise sheath dress adorned with colorful beaded jewelry. The three had been engaged in a lively debate, but when they saw Brianna, their conversation ended abruptly.

  “Brianna, what are you doing here?” Wyatt asked sharply.

  “Just looking around.” She turned her attention to the other couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Markham—I don’t know if you remember me.”

  “Of course we do,” Steve said smoothly. “We’re sorry for your loss, Mrs. Kane.”

  There wasn’t a hint of honesty in his polite words. Apparently, the Markhams held the same animosity toward Derek that Wyatt did. She doubted they would be interested in helping her prove Derek’s innocence.

  “Brianna?” Wyatt repeated. “What’s going on? I hope you’re not still under the delusion that you’ll be able to prove someone else stole the paintings.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could? Wouldn’t you want me to clear your grandson’s name?” she challenged.