“I wouldn’t be so concerned if they were local kids.” She made a tsk-tsk sound. “Whose idea was it they move in with you?”
“It was a mutual decision.” The lie was necessary since Zoe had already reached a Code Red level of suspicion. Besides, two weeks in and it was working out more beautifully than I could have dreamed, so what difference did it make?
“Evelyn thinks—”
“So I’m right. Evelyn is your snitch.”
“If you must know”—she lowered her voice—“it was Brooks who first told me.”
“Interesting.” In imitation I lowered my own voice. Of course, Evelyn would have made sure everyone in Whale Rock knew by now. Brooks had shown up on my doorstep not two hours after Evelyn’s surprise visit.
“Don’t read anything into a simple phone call,” she hissed.
Oh, I was reading something into it, all right.
“So what else did Chuckles have to say?”
“Don’t call him that. He’s a grown man, for Pete’s sake.”
“And you should see what a fine specimen of a man he’s grown into. Without a doubt Chuck—uh, Brooks is the most sought-after bachelor in the Rock.”
“He should find the right woman and marry her.”
“He did. Find her, that is. But I don’t suppose anyone can live up to Zoe Mitchell in his mind.” How I wished to see my sister’s flustered face. But why torture her further? “So what did he want?”
“He’s worried about you. As am I. Your overly trusting nature always lands you in trouble.”
“Ethan didn’t set out to take advantage of me, you know? He loved me. He was just a …”
“A leech?”
“Ouch. I was going to say ‘mirage chaser,’ but ‘leech’ is a much more elegant term.”
It took great restraint for me not to bring up Zoe’s own questionable choice in marital partners. Oliver had strayed earlier in their marriage, but who was I to judge? I lived in a glass house on that account.
We were both quiet for a moment before I asked, “Has Brooks called you before about me?”
After a pause in which my sister was either ignoring the question or stalling, I pressed: “Zo-ee?”
“He was concerned when Ethan left and suggested I might want to come back and check on you.”
“So why didn’t you?” I whispered, stung by the obvious rejection. Ethan had been gone for over three months now. Plenty of time to squeeze in a sisterly visit.
“Cass? Are you there? This darn phone,” she grumbled before disconnecting.
I chose not to pick up when she called back. Aside from wishing to avoid the resumption of a lecture, I was overcome by a petulant need to punish my sister for abandoning me again. To escape the persistent ringing, I slipped out to check on the renovation progress.
The Jacobsons were huddled over a project and hadn’t seen or heard me come in. They were both wearing tank tops that revealed matching shoulder tattoos of a bird with brightly colored plumage.
“Do you think he’s gone yet?” Ashley’s tone was thick with angst. “It’s been over two weeks now.”
“We don’t even know why he was here. Maybe it’s a coincidence?”
“Doubtful.”
“What’s a coincidence?” I asked.
Ashley stood quickly, her natural smile dismissing any suggestion of concern.
“Oh, just some people we met at Nauset Beach from upstate New York.”
Vince winced, then shook his hand when he noticed me looking at him.
Though it seemed contrived, I still felt obliged to ask. “Hurt yourself?”
“Just caught my thumb.”
“Nauset Beach is lovely, but don’t forget the beautiful beaches practically out our front door.”
“We like biking to Orleans. It’s a good workout.”
“I wish I had as much energy as you two.” I turned my attention to Vince, who was devising some sort of pulley system with ropes. “What kind of a knot is that? I know a ton of sailing knots, but I’ve never seen that one. What do you call it?”
“The Dead Man’s Hand. It’s used in climbing, specifically for rescue work. Some people call it a backup knot.”
“You’re a mountain climber?”
“He used to be.” Ashley had taken the Shop-Vac up to the loft and called down, “It was a condition of marriage that he quit.”
“Too many close calls?” I lowered my voice so Ashley couldn’t hear.
Vince offered a sheepish grin. “Have you seen the movie 127 Hours, about the rock climber who had to cut off his own arm to survive?”
I shuddered. “I remember it.”
“Well, it might have done me in.”
“And for good reason,” I admonished him gently. “There are less dangerous ways to get your thrills. Have you ever sailed?”
He shook his head. “Not many opportunities for sailing where I grew up. My grandfather used to take me lake fishing on a rowboat when I was a kid, but that pretty much sums up my experience on the water.”
“Maybe later this week we can take the Cat out.”
“Cat?”
“My sailboat. It’s a catboat, technically a sloop.” It was a cherished heirloom, and one thing I’d never let Ethan talk me into selling. My great-grandfather had christened her the Femme Celeste, and the sailboat had remained with the house each time it changed owners. Papa had renamed the sixteen-foot sloop Queen Jacqueline after my mother, though she rarely joined him on the water, whereas I was barely walking when I’d started going out with him on the bay. But it had been ages since I’d sailed, and I was excited for an opportunity to introduce my new friends to its exhilaration.
I’d lost confidence in solo sailing. Ethan had had an irrational fear of the ocean and not only refused to go with me but also insisted I take a friend along on my outings. Unfortunately, I’d chosen the wrong “friend” … being out on the boat with Billy had proven more temptation than I’d been able to resist. He’d always had a way of causing me to go against my better judgment. And I was seriously regretting the last rendezvous with my old flame—was it already three weeks ago?—especially now that my period was worryingly late.
“We’ll take it out soon. But for now, let me show you an Oysterman’s knot. It might work better.” I changed the configuration of the rope and handed it back to him. “And so you won’t forget, it’s also called an Ashley knot.”
“Perfect.”
* * *
Whistler began barking an alert, and moments later, Whale Rock’s finest pulled up. I turned around to say something to Vince, but he’d already disappeared up into the loft with Ashley.
“Well, if it isn’t Deep Throat,” I called out as a greeting.
“Who?” Brooks leaned down to offer the German shepherd a head pat.
“Never mind. What brings you out this way?” As if I didn’t already know. It was, after all, his third stop out to The Bluffs since Ashley and Vince had moved in. Brooks had been an extended member of the Mitchell family since the day he fell head over heels for my sister in junior high school. Even though Zoe eventually broke his heart, over the ensuing years he and I had formed a companionable friendship. Then after my parents died, Brooks stepped naturally into the role of protective big brother. Though there were times I’d rather he be less attentive to my affairs, it was a great sense of security to have someone watching out for me.
“Just checking in.” He craned his neck to look beyond me to the carriage house. “Where are your new best friends? They always seem to make themselves scarce when I’m around.”
“You’re imagining things.” I hooked my arm around his elbow and steered him toward the house. “Besides, I get the feeling you are intentionally trying to intimidate them.”
“Not true. I just don’t know them well enough to trust them.” He gave me a pointed look. “Do you?”
“I’m sure you’ve already done some type of background check on them.” I poured us each a glass of lemonade and lowered my voice dram
atically, “So what evil deeds turned up?”
“Their names didn’t show up on any wanted persons lists. No outstanding warrants that I could find.” He paused then added. “But many unscrupulous people don’t have criminal records. Taking advantage of someone’s generosity isn’t usually a prosecutable crime, or else—”
“I know,” I said before he could drag Ethan into this. “I get that you don’t think I’m a good judge of character. But I do think the world of you, and there’s nobody I’d trust more with my life, so I must have a touch of good sense.”
Brooks turned his hangdog face away and took a chair at the kitchen table. He then said contritely, “I’d hate for you to lose this house. The Rock would be a lonely place without you.”
That might have been true years ago, before I’d unwoven my personal threads from the fabric of Whale Rock. Nonetheless, I was touched and reached over to squeeze his arm.
“Where would I go?” It wasn’t the first time in recent months I’d asked the question.
“Anywhere but down at the docks.” Brooks brought the conversation around to my job working for Johnny Hotchkiss. “That’s no work for you, Cass. The least Johnny could do is give you your old job back.”
I’d asked Johnny to keep the scut work I was doing for him on the down low, but obviously I wasn’t fooling anyone, at least not Brooks.
“I’d prefer if nobody knew,” I now told him. “Especially Zoe.”
“Good luck with that.” He tapped his fingers nervously on his glass before returning to the subject of Ashley and Vince. “There’s something you should know about your new roomies.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“They’d already moved out of Hilliard House when they so conveniently became lost on your property. It seems they left rather abruptly at that.” He waited for a reaction but got none, so he continued. “Apparently they became visibly rattled at breakfast one morning. About what, George couldn’t tell. But within an hour those two were checked out and gone, even though they still had a week left on their reservation.”
“So?”
“I’m just sayin’.” He lifted a shoulder.
“Well, you’re not sayin’ it very clearly.”
“Look, something doesn’t add up. George told me when they settled the bill, the girl said they’d miscalculated their expenses.”
“I’m still not following.”
He sighed deeply. “They may be taking advantage of you. It’s not all that hard to figure out where The Bluffs is and how to reach it through the trails.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And they simply jumped to the conclusion the owner was in need of a couple with some carpentry skills?”
He looked down at his shoes. “It’s a small town, Cass.”
It finally sunk in.
“So I’m now a juicy topic for the Whale Rock gossipmongers? To the extent that complete strangers are hearing about my troubles?”
“I don’t need to tell you how Hilliard House is the hub of town chatter.”
Not only was it a popular B&B, but Evelyn had created an open-door policy for locals to congregate in her gathering room for “coffee and a catch-up,” as she called it. In other words, it was the clearinghouse for unofficial town business.
My face burned.
Brooks understood he’d stepped into a briar patch and began a quick retreat.
“If people are talking about you, it’s only because they’re concerned.”
“And they show their concern by attacking a couple of newcomers who’ve offered to help me out during a tough time?” Might as well lump Zoe’s friends in with the rest of the natives. Whale Rockers drew a very distinct line between visitors and locals, unreceptive to outsiders until tourists opened their wallets. It was the reason they’d been so opposed to Ethan from the beginning. A Chicagoan living in our midst? Gasp! That they’d pretty much been on target about him was irrelevant.
“Nobody’s attacking them. But they do have reservations about you being out here alone with two strangers.” He scratched his head. “Don’t you get that people in this town really are on your side?”
I refused to let unfounded suspicions taint my regard for Ashley and Vince, but I didn’t trust myself to speak again, and Brooks read my silence well.
“Okay, subject dropped.” He looked toward the carriage house as he stepped out onto the porch. “Just keep your eyes as open as your heart, Cass.”
I watched as Chuckles drove away, inhaling the powerful aroma of my great-grandparents.
But so focused was I in pushing aside the warnings of Zoe and her friends, I didn’t pick up on the subtle change in scent, and the possibility that it was alerting me to a danger.
It was the next day that I came upon the abandoned campsite in the woods.
6
Late June ~ nine weeks before the disappearance
When one of Johnny Hotchkiss’s crew up and quit, he offered me the extra hours until he could find a replacement. Considering my desperate financial situation, I willingly accepted.
My days began at sunrise, and I didn’t get home until past dinnertime—and even later when scheduled for the sunset cruises. Working long days and staying up to all hours in my studio was starting to take its toll. I’d worked nearly every day the past few weeks, and now full into tourist season, I could see no break in sight. If it hadn’t been for Ashley and Vince, I might have starved.
One night at dinner, Ashley said, “Don’t hate me for saying this, but you look exhausted, Cassie.”
“You’re working too hard,” Vince agreed. “And I’ve seen the light burning in the barn well past midnight.”
“Guilty.” I offered a sheepish shrug and then added excitedly, “But I’m in such a good place with my art right now, following a very long drought I might add.” I’d accomplished little during the end of my marriage. And what time I had spent in my studio had not been productive, leaving me with a slew of unfinished paintings. But these past weeks I’d been prolific. I wasn’t sure what to credit it to: the move to the barn, the easing of some financial burdens? Or perhaps I was just more creatively fertile at night.
Chewing on a bite of grilled chicken, I also chewed on the most significant change during this creative burst and pointed my fork at Ashley and Vince. “Hey, maybe you two are my muses.”
“Well, if that’s the case,” Ashley said, pushing her plate aside, “when are you going to let us have a peek at your work?”
“You have been rather mysterious lately,” Vince added, refilling his own plate with a huge second serving of broccoli.
“You’ll have to wait until they’re finished.” I had become protective of my work, even taking to covering the canvases and locking the barn lately, attributing it to concern over whoever might be prowling the nearby woods.
A few weeks ago, I’d stumbled upon a couple of abandoned campsites, one near where the trail abutted my property and another in a shallow alcove further into the woods. Camping was strictly prohibited in the preserved land trust, but I chose not to report it.
The Jacobsons took Whistler out on the trails every morning, and they’d reported nothing suspicious except finding a pocket field sharpener, which arguably could belong to anyone who walked the trails. Brooks was already paranoid, and I didn’t need him or his troop of not-so-merry lawmen breathing down my neck.
Still, though I’d never been frightened of being alone, the thought of a stranger creeping about near my property made me uneasy. I couldn’t deny how reassuring it was to have a strapping young man in residence.
“Have you seen any signs of our elusive visitor?”
“Nothing.” Vince shrugged between bites. “Let’s hope whoever it was has moved on.”
“Good riddance.” Ashley shivered, looking more relieved than she sounded. “I mean, it’s just so secluded out here.”
The Bluffs was remotely positioned. Sitting on the very outskirts of Whale Rock, the drive up from the main road was nearly a mile. The
house faced westward over the cliffs, and the property was bordered along its southern boundary by hundreds of acres of land trust woodlands. The northern edge gradually swept down into a large marsh. Lots of places to hide, but nowhere to run.
“No more talk of strangers prowling the woods,” Vince commanded. “You two will have nightmares for sure.”
I didn’t mention my own relentless nightmares and how the late stays in the barn had as much to do with avoiding my bed. I was also trying to ignore the change in scent I’d noticed; the once-comforting sweet smell of burning sugar had become acrid, almost chokingly pungent. But fatigue was interfering with my ability to interpret the messages Percy and Celeste were trying to convey.
* * *
Johnny unexpectedly gave me a weekend off, and I took the opportunity to hole up in my studio and finish the Bartlett family portrait. I hated to slow the momentum on the new series of paintings I’d been working on, but I had no choice but to tear myself away to finish commission work.
If only I didn’t have to pick up that package today. I was not looking forward to a foray into Whale Rock, but I needed those oils I’d ordered if I was to finish the portrait and get paid. The electric bill awaited. As did the gas bill and the phone bill. The goal was to slip in and out of town without being noticed.
But in line with how my luck had been running lately, I exited the post office just as Lu Ketchner rounded the corner of High Street at breakneck speed.
I tried to duck into the Shipyard Sweet Shoppe before she saw me.
“Well, look who found her way to town,” Lu called out.
Crap. Too late. How did she walk so fast in those skyscraper heels?
“Oh. Hi, Lu. I didn’t see you.”
“Uh-huh.” She raised skeptical brows. “So what brings you out of hiding?”
“I’m not hiding,” I answered a little too defensively. “I’ve just been busy finishing up a painting.”
“Anything I can exhibit?” Lu was always on the lookout for her next commission.
I shrugged.
“You have got to stop with the silly portraits and get back to your true talent,” she scolded.
“It pays the bills.” Just barely.
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