In Shelter Cove (Angel's Bay)

by Barbara Freethy

  “How are they doing on that?” he asked dryly.

  A hint of a smile played around her lips. “Not even making a dent.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you had much of a childhood.” No wonder Brianna had been drawn to the Kanes, who had showered her with love from the moment they met her.

  “It wasn’t bad. I lived all over the world, had plenty of money, clothes, and educational opportunities. It was hard to keep changing schools, tough to hang on to friends, but I always had my books. I was a huge reader. And my favorite place in the world was the library—the smell of all those books, the promise of all those adventures. I couldn’t get enough. I still—” She stopped abruptly.

  “Still what?” he asked, curious.

  “Nothing. Anyway, I’m going to give Lucas a different kind of life and all the time with me he wants. I want to be there for him—especially now that it’s just me.”

  “Hasn’t it always been just you?”

  Her lips tightened. “Yes, it has. Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Why did you marry Derek, Brianna? Was it because you were pregnant?”

  She stared at him for a long moment, a glint of steel in her eyes. “I married Derek because I loved him. That’s not what you want to hear, is it?”

  “If that’s the truth, then that’s the truth.” But he didn’t quite buy it.

  A moment of tense silence passed between them. “I did love him,” she reiterated, “but I was also young, pregnant, and scared.”

  “You had other options.”

  “Did I?” She shrugged. “To be honest, those days are all a blur now. Everything happened so fast. One minute I was planning a wedding, and the next I was talking to cops and lawyers, listening to accusations of robbery and assault.” She shook her head. “For the longest time, I thought I was having a nightmare. I believed I’d wake up and it would be over.”

  “Derek was lucky to have you stand by him.”

  “He told me that he was innocent, that he’d win his appeal, he’d get out, and we’d go on with our lives. But—” Her gaze narrowed. “Why am I talking to you?”

  “Because I’m a good listener?” he suggested lightly.

  She shrugged. “Or maybe I’ve just been a little short on adult conversation.”

  “Do you remember the first time we met?” Jason asked.

  “At Murray’s Bar. I actually thought we were going to be friends.”

  “Really? I thought we were going to be more,” he said.

  She stared at him in surprise. “Why?”

  “Because in the hour we spent talking and laughing, you never once said you were engaged. I didn’t find that out until Derek came in and kissed you and invited me to the wedding.” He took a breath, knowing he was heading into dangerous territory, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I think for a few minutes you forgot you were with him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, but there wasn’t much force behind her words.

  He pressed on. “For a few minutes there, you wished you were still single.”

  “Why? So I could have you?” Anger flashed in her eyes. “Your ego is unbelievable. Just because I didn’t announce my engagement to you doesn’t mean I was interested in you. We had a casual conversation in a bar. That’s it.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay, my mistake.” If he pushed any further, he’d be out on his ass, and now that he had her talking, he didn’t want to stop.

  “You really thought I was into you?” she asked.

  “Maybe I just wanted you to be.”

  “Is that why you went after Derek? Was it about me?” She jumped to her feet and ran a hand through her hair. “My God—I never even considered that possibility.”

  He stood up. “No, I went after him because I ran into him on the museum grounds right after the guard was attacked and because Derek was acting nervous and changing his story every other second. I didn’t have a personal agenda. I didn’t want him to be guilty. He was my friend.”

  “He was your rival. Derek told me the two of you competed for everything. In fact, that’s probably why you wanted me. I was just another trophy to play for, wasn’t I?”

  “I didn’t know you belonged to Derek when we first met,” he pointed out. “And when I found out, I backed off. I don’t take women away from other men.”

  “You need to leave.”

  He’d known that statement was coming ever since he’d stepped through the door. “Look, we got off track.”

  “We’ve never been on track.”

  “Let me fix the kite for Lucas. It’s not a big deal, and I’d really like to do it for him.”

  “Why?”

  “I lost a parent when I just a little older than Lucas. I feel sorry for the kid.”

  She gazed at him in confusion. “I don’t know what you want from me, Jason.”

  He wasn’t entirely sure, either; he just knew he didn’t want her to spend the rest of her life thinking he was the enemy. “Right now I just want to fix the kite.”

  “Derek wouldn’t want you to help Lucas. He wouldn’t want you to be here in this kitchen with me.”

  “Derek’s not here. So why don’t you tell me what you want, Brianna?”

  She hesitated one last second, but in the end, her love for Lucas was stronger than her hate for him.

  “Fine,” she said. “But only because Lucas has had more disappointments than any little boy should have.”

  “I agree.”

  “But you’re not fixing it here,” she said firmly. “You can take it with you and bring it back when you’re done.”

  “I thought Lucas might want to help me.”

  “Don’t push it, Jason. And after all your bragging, that kite better be good.”

  “It will be.” He grabbed the kite and headed toward the back door.

  “And just to be clear,” she added, “this does not in any way mean that I like you.”

  He gave her a smile. “Maybe not yet.”

  When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, Brianna tensed. She wasn’t up to another round with Jason tonight. His earlier comments had shaken her up. She hadn’t thought about that night in the bar in years; she’d pushed that sexy, flirtatious guy to the back of her mind. It hadn’t been difficult. After Derek’s arrest, Jason had turned into a cold, ruthless cop.

  When she opened the door, it wasn’t Jason on her porch but Katherine Markham, dressed now in jeans and a jacket.

  “Hello,” Katherine said with a smile. “I stopped by the Kanes’ house, and they gave me your address. I hope you don’t mind, but I felt really bad after you left the gallery earlier, and I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

  “Come in,” Brianna said, waving her inside, more than a little curious to hear what she had to say.

  “Who’s here, Mommy?” Lucas walked into the room, wiping the sleep out of his eyes, his cheeks a rosy pink.

  “This is Katherine,” Brianna said, putting her hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “She was a friend of your dad. This is Lucas.”

  “Hi there,” Katherine said tentatively. She glanced back at Brianna. “He’s a mini-Derek. I had no idea.”

  “Can I have a snack?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes, you can have a banana. We’re going to eat dinner soon.” She turned to Katherine as Lucas ran into the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, please don’t bother.”

  Brianna gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks. I just couldn’t get your face out of my mind. Wyatt was hard on you.”

  “Harder on Derek,” she said, sitting down in the chair across from Katherine. “I can’t understand why he would choose to believe the worst about his grandson.”

  “Wyatt thought that Derek threw away everything he gave him. He felt betrayed. I’m not saying he was right—just that that’s how he saw it.” Katherine’s gaze moved across the room, to where a large, ornate mirror was propped against the wall. “That was Derek’s,”
she murmured, an odd note in her voice. “He bought it at an estate sale even though there was a crack in the glass. He never fixed it, I guess.”

  “I guess not,” Brianna replied. “I just started unpacking the boxes that came from Derek’s townhouse. Nancy had put all of his things in storage when he went to jail, because I was moving into a tiny apartment and barely had space for my own things. I’m not even sure what all he had.” She paused for a moment, noting the pallor in Katherine’s face. “Is something wrong?”

  Katherine started. “No. I’m sorry. It just hit me again that Derek is really gone.”

  Brianna nodded. “I completely understand. I think I have it all together, and then something triggers a memory, and the pain sends me reeling.”

  “So I wanted to come by and let you know that if I can help you find out what happened to the paintings, I’d be more than happy to do so. I didn’t have a chance to help Derek before. I’d love to do that now. To that end, I spoke to my aunt after you left. I asked her if she’d heard any rumblings about those paintings. I thought Derek’s death might have caused someone to break their silence.”

  Brianna had wondered the same thing. “What did Gloria say?”

  Katherine frowned. “Unfortunately, nothing helpful. Both she and my uncle believe that Derek had a private buyer lined up, who either received the paintings and has them hidden away in a vault or was waiting for Derek’s release in order to complete the transaction.”

  “That’s one thing I don’t understand,” Brianna said. “Why would someone go to the trouble of stealing paintings that they couldn’t display?”

  “It happens all the time. Collectors can be very eccentric. Some have private rooms filled with art of questionable provenance. And highly publicized stolen art can stay hidden for decades.”

  Brianna leaned back in her chair, her momentary optimism vanishing. “So I should give up?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just want you to be realistic. It may take some time. And you won’t get a lot of help around here.”

  “Aren’t you concerned about helping me?” Brianna asked curiously. “I’m sure the Markhams wouldn’t want you to get involved in this.”

  “They don’t own me,” Katherine said lightly. “And while everyone seems to think of Derek only as a thief and a criminal, I remember a different guy. Derek was charming and funny, and he was a really talented artist. He always found the most interesting and unique perspective from which to paint. I was in awe of his talent. But I’m sure you know how good he was.”

  Brianna didn’t comment. She’d never known Derek as an artist, only as a savvy businessman with a passion for art. When he’d left Angel’s Bay to go to Los Angeles, he’d left that part of his life behind.

  “Does your son like to paint?” Katherine asked.

  “He scribbles a little. I haven’t seen any sign of genius, but he’s only four.”

  “I have a sketch pad with some of Derek’s earliest work on it. I found it the other day when I was cleaning up. Maybe I’ll bring it by, and you can give it to Lucas.”

  “That would be great. Not even the Kanes have much of his work. I guess he did most of his painting at Wyatt’s studio, and apparently, Wyatt destroyed whatever Derek left behind.”

  Katherine nodded. “Wyatt was angry with Derek long before The Three Faces of Eve went missing. But losing those paintings made him crazy. Wyatt was obsessed with Victor Delgado’s work. He spent most of his adult life looking for Eve.” She paused. “I never understood why Wyatt agreed to donate the paintings to the museum. My aunt and uncle must have talked him into it. The three of them discovered the paintings when they were together in Mexico. They purchased them as a group.”

  Brianna stared at Katherine, reading between the lines. “Are you suggesting that Wyatt might have wanted the paintings for himself but somehow got talked into giving them up? He doesn’t seem like a pushover.”

  Katherine shrugged. “I don’t know. I could be completely off base, but I have wondered if Wyatt’s hostility is a cover for some other emotion—like guilt.”

  “Well, that’s something I’ve never considered,” Brianna said in bemusement.

  “I would be surprised if Derek didn’t consider it,” Katherine said, giving Brianna a curious look. “Didn’t you two talk about who might have taken the paintings, since Derek didn’t do it? He had to have had some idea.”

  “He never mentioned his grandfather as a likely candidate,” Brianna replied. “To be honest, our visiting time was so short that Derek didn’t want to waste it talking about art. He saved those conversations for his attorney and the private investigator we hired. Now I wish I’d pressed him more. I keep wracking my brain trying to remember something he said that might have been a clue, but so far I’ve just gotten a headache.”

  “Maybe you should just let the past go. Those paintings can’t free Derek now.”

  “No, but if they can clear his name, I have to try to find them. I have a son to consider.”

  Katherine stood up. “I understand. Be careful if you speak to Wyatt. Where art is concerned, he has no boundaries and no patience for people who get in his way.”

  Which made Wyatt sound more and more like the real thief, Brianna thought, as she ushered Katherine out of the house. She couldn’t remember anyone ever mentioning Wyatt’s name in conjunction with the theft, but then, why would they? He’d been the one to donate the paintings to the museum. Maybe Katherine was right—maybe he’d been forced to make the donation, forced to find another way to get those paintings for himself.

  But would Wyatt have let his grandson rot in a prison cell for five years over some paintings? She had to find out.

  SEVEN

  Brianna woke up Wednesday morning with a headache. She’d spent a long night thinking about Wyatt and Derek and the paintings. She doubted confronting Wyatt would get her anywhere. He’d simply sneer at her in his condescending way and tell her she was on a fool’s errand to prove her husband’s innocence. And while Katherine’s suggestion that Wyatt might not have wanted to donate the paintings resonated with her, did she really have any new information to take to Joe Silveira? She didn’t think so. She needed more. But more would have to wait. She had a job to get to.

  After dropping Lucas off with his grandparents, she started her shift at the quilt shop. At the end of three hours, she knew how to work the cash register and cut fabric, and she had a pretty good handle on where everything was. She’d also gotten to know two of her coworkers. Stella was a big-hearted, loud-talking forty-something divorcee who’d recently discovered Internet dating, and during slow periods at the store, she’d shown some of her favorite male profiles to Brianna, lamenting the fact that none of the men lived in Angel’s Bay. How far did she want to go to get a little something, she’d asked with a laugh. It was a question Brianna couldn’t begin to answer, since she hadn’t had a “little something” herself in a long time.

  He other coworker, Erin McCarthy, was a quiet woman in her mid-thirties. Upon prodding from Stella, Erin had confided that she and her husband were trying to adopt a baby, and that there was a local teenager who might be giving her child up, but apparently there was quite a bit of competition. After that, she’d shut up, worried that she might be jinxing herself by talking about it.

  The shop had done a steady business all morning, and by noon Brianna had lost track of all the people she’d met. She could see why Nancy enjoyed working at the store; there was a sense of camaraderie and community. People came in eager to create something new, and their hopefulness and joyous anticipation were infectious. Brianna had already started plotting out possible quilt designs in her head, and she had a feeling it wouldn’t be difficult to become an obsessed quilter herself.

  She’d also learned that quilting in Angel’s Bay wasn’t just about the craft; it was also about business. Besides providing materials and classes for individuals, a core group of employees constructed a line of Angel’s Bay quilts that were sold all over the
world. Two women whose sole purpose was to handle the Internet orders worked in the back office. She’d never imagined that the store was supporting so many families.

  Speaking of family . . . she smiled as Nancy and Lucas entered the shop. Lucas immediately ran into her arms, giving her a big hug and a kiss. She introduced him to Erin, who was just finishing up with a customer.

  “He’s beautiful,” Erin said, with maternal yearning in her eyes. “I can see you in him. He has your nose, I think.”

  Erin was the first person who hadn’t seen only Derek in her son, and it was refreshing. “Thanks.”

  “Grandma and Grandpa took me to the pumpkin patch,” Lucas announced.

  “And the bakery?” she asked, wiping away the smear of red jam by the corner of his mouth.

  “I only had a little tart. Grandma said I have to wait until after lunch.”

  Brianna was relieved to hear her mother-in-law was capable of imposing some rules; Rick and Nancy tended to spoil Lucas like crazy.

  “Any word on babies, Erin?” Nancy asked.

  “We’re still praying.”

  “Well, don’t give up hope,” Nancy said.

  “I won’t,” Erin promised. She turned to Brianna. “If you’d like, I can show Lucas the kids’ room while you check out with Fiona.”

  “That would be great,” Brianna said, setting Lucas back on his feet. “Fiona needs me to sign something before I go,” she added to Nancy.

  Lucas went off with Erin with a happy smile, always happy to explore.

  “So how did it go here?” Nancy asked.

  “Great. It was busy, and I made some mistakes, but Stella and Erin and Fiona were great. They were very welcoming.”

  Nancy beamed. “I’m so glad. I know it’s not a teaching job, but that will come soon. Do you want to find Fiona, and then we’ll go to lunch?”

  “Let me just take this customer. I think she’s about ready.”

  Nancy turned to make room for the older woman approaching the counter. As the two saw each other, they both stiffened. Nancy’s usually happy expression vanished. The other woman’s lips drew into a tight line, and the air between them crackled with tension.