This hit a nerve, and yet I was curious. “How’d you even know I was married, let alone when?”
He looked down at his plate and began rubbing his forehead self-consciously.
A blaze of indignation fleetingly blurred my vision. “Isn’t it unethical, even for an FBI agent, to intrude on an individual’s privacy?”
He met my eyes and took in a deep breath. “Not when they’re suspects.”
I must have looked as disgusted as I felt, for he rushed to add, “I misspoke. Not a suspect, but a person of interest. In a case like this, we take a close look at everyone associated with the individuals who’ve gone missing,” He reached across and took my hand, which had begun to tremble. “Please understand. It’s my job.”
At that moment, Brooks walked into the restaurant and likely misread the scene at our table. He made as if to leave, then shrugged and turned back, probably considering it wouldn’t take much to set the tongues of our small town wagging all sorts of theories if he made such a hasty retreat. I withdrew my hand from Daniel’s grasp as Brooks approached our table.
“Hello, Cassie.” He nodded to Daniel. “Agent Benjamin. Any developments in the Jacobson case?”
Daniel frowned. “Nothing worth mentioning. I promise to let you know if we uncover anything significant.”
“You do that now.” The FBI seizing control of the search for Vince and Ashley had been a bitter pill the Whale Rock police chief was not swallowing gracefully.
Whether intended or not, Daniel’s next remark was unnecessarily condescending. “There might be something you and your boys can help us with down the road.”
Brooks’s tensed jaw suggested how he interpreted the comment. He gave me a thoughtful look and then, with a hint of disapproval I hoped only I could detect, “Have a lovely evening.”
My friend took a table in the far corner of the opposite side of the restaurant, his back to us. The evening that had begun with such promise had taken an awkward turn, so I decided I might as well give in to it.
“Is there any part of the case you can discuss with me?”
“I can tell you we’re pursuing what few leads we have.” Daniel then picked up the dessert menu. “Care to share something?”
I became lost in thought for a moment, referee to an internal struggle. Did I risk embarrassing myself by sharing the theory that had been percolating in my head about the sequence of those knots? Or would withholding the idea somehow thwart attempts to locate Vince and Ashley?
In the end my pride gave way to a more pragmatic desire to help find my friends. “There’s a rope. It might be nothing. It’s probably just a coincidence.”
“A coincidence?” He made a rather absurd attempt at a pompous English accent. “The odds are enormously against it being a coincidence.”
I tried to suppress a giggle, but it came out a snort.
“You don’t care for my Sherlock Holmes impression?”
“Oh, so that’s who it was?”
“Now you know why I pursued a career in fighting crime.”
“I’ll tell you what a crime is. That impression.”
“Ba dum bum.” He drummed a comedy rim shot. “Tough crowd tonight, folks.”
Daniel’s attempt to lighten the mood was working. He reached for my hand again.
“Seriously, I believe coincidences only occur in the rarest occasions, if ever. In the FBI, we’re taught to investigate even the most improbable variable and to never assume anything is accidental. So what is it about this rope that might help the investigation?”
I took a deep breath. “It was tied to the picnic basket that was left behind. It’s just a series of knots. I’d been teaching Vince some sailing knots, and he might have been using the rope to practice, but—”
Daniel didn’t prompt me. He simply waited patiently for me to find the right words.
“There are some knots I don’t recognize.” I hesitated again. “Look, I know this is going to sound as if I’ve been reading too many mystery novels, but I just have this feeling he left behind a message.” There, I’d finally said it, and he wasn’t laughing at me.
“Like some type of code?”
I leaned forward. “Exactly.”
“You think they left it for you?”
“Maybe. Or perhaps it was a generic SOS,—you know, left for whoever found it.”
“I’d have to look at it.” He shrugged noncommittally.
My theory wasn’t well formed, but I didn’t want it to be dismissed. “If we figure out the message, if that’s what it is, then we should be able to determine the person it was intended for. Right?”
“Could I take the rope to our forensics team? Let them check it out?”
“Of course. Anything to help.”
“Have you told anyone else about this?” I followed Daniel’s gaze to where Brooks was now sharing a laugh with the waitress.
“You mean Brooks?” I shook my head. “Should I?”
“For now I think it’s best to keep it between us. The agency doesn’t share everything with local law enforcement. As much as possible, we try to protect the victims.”
“Victims?” It sounded ominous. “And here I thought Ashley and Vince didn’t exist.”
“They may not have been who they told you they were. But they did exist, Cassie.”
“Do exist,” I insisted.
“We can hope.”
* * *
Daniel didn’t ask for the rope straightaway when he brought me home, which suggested it wasn’t the only reason he came inside.
“Can I offer you some wine or coffee?” I walked to Papa’s antique bar and picked up a bottle. “I even have some of the finest tawny port.”
“Coffee’s fine. It wouldn’t be cool to have an elevated blood alcohol level if Chief Kincaid pulled me over. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t like me.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Nope.” He sniffed the air. “Been baking again?”
“Guilty.” I lied as Percy and Celeste made their sweet presence known.
I walked through the large archway to the kitchen, where Daniel stopped me and took hold of my hands.
“In my line of work, we’re trained to expect the unexpected. It’s a mantra of sorts. Always be prepared, because each day holds its own unique surprises. More times than not, I run smack into life’s grim realities. On a good day I get to witness a happy ending. But so rarely, in fact, I can’t even remember the last time.” He shook his head. “The point is, today I failed.”
I braced myself for the letdown certain to be coming.
“This morning, I was in no way prepared for the exceptional day ahead of me.” He squeezed my hands. “It’s been a long time since anyone has taken me by surprise.”
Maybe it was the pervasive scent of caramel that sparked such an intense response, but I was unable to hold back. I found my fingers raking through Daniel’s thick, dark hair, kissing him with unrepressed fervor. If I’d been watching myself, I might’ve felt the same vicarious embarrassment one feels when reading a love scene in a bad romance novel, but there was no question I was lip-locked with a partner more than my equal in willingness and enthusiasm, and he didn’t seem at all embarrassed. I’m not certain how much time passed before we paused for air, or even how we made it from the kitchen to the library sofa.
“Can I assume I’ve been forgiven?” Daniel breathed hard.
“Oh yeah.” I nestled closer and kissed him again. “All is forgiven.”
Just then, Whistler began to bark fiercely from the front of the house.
“Probably a raccoon or a deer.” I dismissed the interruption even though I knew the dog wasn’t usually bothered by the plethora of wildlife prowling my property.
Whistler ran into the room, whimpered, then left and resumed his post, barking an ever more furious warning.
Daniel smiled apologetically as he quickly disentangled himself from our embrace. “I’ll have a look at what’s causing such a fuss.”
>
“I’ll come with,” I said, not letting go of his hand.
We opened the front door just in time to see taillights disappearing at the curve about a quarter mile down the drive.
“Expecting company?”
I looked at my watch, amazed by the lateness of the hour. “At midnight? I think not.”
“Maybe someone who got lost?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” But it was a rare occurrence, and my gut was telling me whoever had been here had come with a purpose in mind.
Daniel grabbed a flashlight I kept near the door and walked outside for a check. A sudden chill came over me. I considered telling him about the elusive camper but assumed the Whale Rock PD had shared those details. And then it occurred to me: it must have been Brooks who’d driven out to check up on me. I was relieved, though he probably wouldn’t have been pleased to see Daniel’s car here so late.
Rubbing the goose skin of my naked arms, it registered that I was partially disrobed. Zoe’s unwelcome words of warning echoed in my head. You’re like a Raggedy Ann doll. No spine. You’ve got to learn to say no.
Maybe Zoe was right. There was no arguing that the circumstances weren’t ideal for romance. But didn’t I deserve a bit of happiness? Especially with life serving up a heap of shabby lately.
I shivered again when Daniel came back inside.
“Do you feel safe out here?” He pulled me close, rubbing my arms and nuzzling my neck. “I could stay.”
As tempting as it was, the spell had been broken.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m used to being alone out here.” Not that I was ever truly alone under the constant watch of Percy and Celeste. “Besides, as you just witnessed, Whistler’s a super guard dog.”
Daniel nodded grudgingly to the German shepherd. “Looks like you win, buddy.”
“Perhaps another time?” I rested my palm against his cheek.
“I’ll hold you to it.” He kissed me again and then, with a sigh of defeat, reluctantly released me and draped me in the cashmere wrap I’d dropped by the door.
“Let me make you that coffee.” I retrieved my sweater from between the sofa cushions, pulled my disheveled hair up into a bushy ponytail, and walked toward the kitchen. “It won’t take but a minute.”
“Not necessary.” Daniel picked up the tangled line of rope I’d left on the large, oak table. As a sailor, he should be familiar with some of the knots; his furrowed brow indicated he was already trying to decipher a meaning. “I can take this?”
“Yep. Let me know if you can make any sense of it.”
He saluted. “Will do.”
There was one more lingering kiss before he left. “Lock up tight after me.”
I saluted back. “Will do.”
I watched the vehicle drive away and brooded over what had created the wall of distrust. I’d let Daniel think he was in possession of the original rope left tied to the abandoned bicycles. Instead, I’d given him an odd piece of line I’d used to replicate the knots myself while trying to decode their message. It was a fair enough copy and would serve its purpose.
I shook my head to dispel the vision repeatedly coming to mind: a hastily knotted rope at the last desperate moment when the two people I’d grown so fond of realized they were in danger.
16
Nine days following the disappearance
“Do I have to learn everything about your life from Brooks?” Zoe whined.
I closed my eyes and bit back a cutting response. “Sorry I haven’t called. There’s been a lot going on.”
“I’d say. Let’s see, there are your missing tenants, an as yet unfinished and unrented carriage house apartment, and—oh yeah, a new man in your life.”
“Then we have something in common on that count. It’s interesting how often you and Brooks have been in touch lately. Oliver misbehaving again?” The words spilled out before I could catch them.
To the best of my knowledge Oliver had been unfaithful only the one time. However, Zoe had been quite emphatic that if her husband couldn’t keep it zipped, she’d help him pack his bags.
Her silence made me consider whether I’d landed the barb too close to the truth.
“Sorry. That wasn’t very nice.” I softened my voice. “Everything okay?”
“Sure.” Was that a sniffle?
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nothing to talk about.” My sister rarely let anyone see her in a wounded state and handily changed the subject. “But I do want to know, who is this Daniel Benjamin?”
“He’s an FBI agent working the disappearance.” I might as well tell her about last night since she clearly already knew. “We had dinner. Once.”
“And went sailing too, I hear.”
Jeez. Was nothing in my life private?
“He’s a pretty fair sailor at that.” I wouldn’t let on that the gossip bothered me.
“So what do you think happened to that couple?” Zoe had never called Vince and Ashley by name. They were either “that couple” or “your tenants.”
“I wish I knew. It’s crazy, Zoe. They vanished without a trace. It’s as if they never existed.”
“Maybe they had a good reason to leave.”
Whistler nuzzled my hand for a pet. “And abandon their dog? No way.”
“Well, for their sake and yours, I hope it comes to a good end.”
“Me too. They’re awfully good kids, Zoe. You would have liked them.”
“Brooks didn’t trust them,” she challenged.
“Brooks doesn’t trust anyone.”
“I’ll give you that.” Then it was back to business. “When do you think you’ll be able to rent out the carriage house?”
“There’s not all that much left to do.” Though having not finished the work gave more credence to my thinking Ashley and Vince wouldn’t have left of their own accord. “I’ve hired Steve Morrison to finish the work. Now that summer’s over, he’s freed up a bit.” Steve’s father had been Papa’s best friend, and his son had taken over his small construction company when the elder Morrison retired.
“I remember Steve. He used to come by the house with his dad all the time. Well if Steve is as good as Mr. Morrison, I’m sure you’re in capable hands. Weren’t you two friends?”
“Uh-huh.” They were capable hands alright. A wicked smile danced on my lips. Steve and I were never an item, just friends who’d experimented in our teenage years. Mama was ill, so Papa hardly noticed where I went and with whom. It was Granny Fi who’d discovered our little trysts, and though she didn’t chastise me, she did march me directly to a clinic in Orleans for birth control pills. Shortly after, we fizzled out, and Steve started going steady with Sarah Kimball while I hooked up with Billy Hughes. The birth control pills had not gone to waste.
“Anything else I should know?”
“No, that covers it.” I wasn’t up for the lecture so I didn’t tell her about the notice I’d received from the bank yesterday, reminding me my mortgage payment was late. I’d underestimated the renovation costs and had already blown through Zoe’s loan.
“Be wary of rebound relationships, Cass.” It was not said reproachfully, but in the weary, knowing way of someone who’d been through it.
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Had there been more to the end of Zoe’s relationship with Brooks and the beginning of her love affair with Oliver all those years ago? Was she hinting at a flaw in her choice? A mistake, rushing into marriage with Oliver? Had she opened her heart too easily to another because Brooks had broken it?
When I hung up, I knocked over the catchall basket on the desk, spilling its contents to the floor. “Damn it.”
While collecting and sorting through the hodge-podge, I found an envelope of photographs. I shuffled through them and came upon one of Ethan and me taken on our wedding day. We looked happy. Oh my God. I’d completely forgotten. Tomorrow would have been our seven-year anniversary. I rested my forehead in the palm of my hand as an empty f
eeling threatened to pull me under. All of a sudden, there came a loud clanging on the antique water pipes.
“Okay. I hear you.” There’d been no sweet sugary aroma from Percy and Celeste when Ethan entered my life. No scent at all. Instead, this same persistent clattering of the pipes, the source of which no plumber was able to determine. But love had thrown down a gauntlet against their signals, and they’d eventually quieted down.
Another photo was stuck to the bottom of the basket, but this one wasn’t of me and Ethan—it was actually a close-up snapshot of Ashley and Vince that had slipped out of her backpack one day. I’d swept it up and had truly meant to return it to her. Only they’d disappeared before I had a chance to remember to give it back.
I examined it more closely. In the corner background of the picture was a sign, but it was illegible. I sorted through the desk drawer for the magnifying glass but still couldn’t make it out.
I picked up the phone to call Brooks, but then put it back down. Daniel had said the FBI preferred to keep some details discreet as a way of protecting the victims. This might well be one of those isolated kernels of information. Daniel’s business card was stuck in the corner of the desk blotter, but I hadn’t heard from him for two days, since he’d left with the rope. I fingered the card for a minute. Screw your pride, Cassie.
I called.
He was quiet when I finished telling him about the photograph.
“I was thinking your team could enhance the image to read the wording on the sign. I mean, wouldn’t it be helpful to know where the photo was taken?”
“I’d have to see it.” He added nothing more.
I was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Is this a bad time?”
“Just a crazy Monday with a stack of new cases. I’ve been meaning to call to see if we could get together one night this week.” I heard pages flipping, probably his daytimer. “I couldn’t make it out there until, uh, Friday night?”
I didn’t respond immediately, making the pretense of checking my own calendar. “Hmm. Friday? I don’t know. Let. Me. See.”
It was subtle, but he must have gotten the point, for he shook free of the caddish attitude.
“I’d really like to see you again.” His tone was evocative of the pleasant evening we’d spent together, bringing to life the butterflies. I’d let him off the hook this time.
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