In Shelter Cove (Angel's Bay)

by Barbara Freethy

  Charlotte straightened as Fiona turned her sharp gaze on her. “Where’s your mother, Charlotte? Shall we wait for her?”

  “She can’t make it. She has an engagement, but I’m here to represent the family.”

  “Yes, you are,” Fiona said, clearly unimpressed. “Kara, keep an eye on her. Charlotte doesn’t always care that much about what she’s doing.”

  “I care,” Charlotte said defensively, although quilting wasn’t really her thing. “She should see the way I stitch up my patients,” she added to Kara when Fiona moved along to talk to someone else. “I’m damn good.”

  “She should have told you to watch me,” Brianna put in. “I haven’t sewn in a long time.”

  “We’ll help you. And while we’re sewing,” Kara said, “you can tell me how you and Jason are getting along.”

  A guilty look flitted across Brianna’s eyes. “What’s going on with you and Jason?” Charlotte asked curiously. “Jeez, am I behind the curve on everything around here?”

  “He’s just house-sitting next door to me,” Brianna said quickly. “It’s hard to avoid him, but eventually he’ll be gone. And that will be that. End of story.”

  “Somehow I don’t believe that,” Kara murmured to Charlotte as Fiona called Brianna over to meet some other women.

  “I didn’t even know there was a story,” Charlotte said. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

  “I don’t like to gossip,” Kara said with smile.

  Charlotte grinned back at her. “Since when?”

  Kara’s smile dimmed. “Since I started worrying that one of my best friends might get his heart broken.”

  “I thought Jason and Brianna hated each other.”

  “I don’t think what’s between them has anything to do with hate—at least, not anymore.”

  Jason stopped by Patty’s house after lunch to check on the animals. Brianna’s car was still gone, and he assumed she was at the quilt shop. As he got out of his car, he was surprised to see someone coming down Brianna’s side yard—and even more shocked when he realized it was Steve Markham. What the hell was he doing there?

  “Officer Marlow,” Steve said, stopping abruptly when he saw him. His gaze flickered past him. Jason didn’t know if he was looking for a quick escape or if someone was with him.

  Jason looked over his shoulder, noting the gray sedan parked at the end of the street. Markham certainly hadn’t wanted to advertise his visit. “Mr. Markham,” he said, turning his gaze back to the gallery owner. “Are you looking for Brianna?”

  “Yes, I was. She didn’t answer the door, so I went around the back. I thought she might be in the yard, but she wasn’t.”

  “Do you want me to tell her you came by?”

  “Why would you be talking to her?” Steve asked, his gaze sharpening.

  “I’m house-sitting next door,” he replied.

  “That must be . . . uncomfortable.”

  “What are you doing here?” Jason asked, tired of the polite charade they were playing.

  “Brianna stopped in at the gallery the other day. I didn’t have a chance to express my condolences.”

  “And that’s what you wanted to do today? I don’t buy it, and I doubt Brianna will, either. You made your position against Derek quite clear.”

  “As did you,” Steve said smoothly.

  “Yes, I believed Derek was guilty of everything he was charged with. Nothing’s happened to change my mind.” He tilted his head. “So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

  Steve hesitated for another second, then said, “I want the paintings. I went to the prison last year to speak to Derek, to tell him how much we wanted to get the art back—those pieces are important to the history of this town. But Derek wouldn’t see me. I hoped that when he was released, we might able to come to some terms. Either he could sell us the paintings for some exorbitant price, or perhaps he’d own up to who had them, and we could make a deal with them.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m hoping that Derek’s widow can help us find the paintings.”

  “If Brianna had the art, she would have handed it over a long time ago.”

  “Not necessarily. Not if doing so would confirm Derek’s guilt.”

  “If she believed Derek was guilty, she wouldn’t have spoken to Joe Silveira about reopening the case,” Jason pointed out.

  Markham looked surprised at that piece of information. “I didn’t realize she’d done that. Well, putting all that aside, I understand that Derek’s belongings were placed in storage and recently shipped here. Perhaps she has some clue that she doesn’t realize she has.”

  “I would think with your connections, you would be in a far better position to find those paintings than Brianna. She’s not tied to the art world.”

  “She’s tied to Derek, and he was the last one to have them.” Steve paused. “I always knew Derek was ambitious, that he could look the other way if big money was involved, but I never thought he’d steal from us. Gloria and I introduced him to so many people. We gave him his start. We were practically family.”

  “Speaking of family,” Jason said, “was it Wyatt’s idea to donate the paintings to the museum or yours?”

  “We agreed as a group. We could have sold them for a great deal of money, but it wasn’t about the cash. It was about the art.”

  “I’ll let Brianna know you were here,” Jason said as Markham moved past him. “Next time, you might want to just park in front of the house, save yourself the walk.”

  Markham didn’t answer, heading down the street at a brisk pace.

  Jason walked down the side of Brianna’s house and into the backyard. He checked the back door. It was locked. It didn’t appear that Markham had gone inside, but it bothered him that he’d been in the backyard at all. And if Markham thought Brianna had a clue to the missing paintings, Jason couldn’t help wondering who else might think the same thing—and how far they’d go to find out.

  “What are you making, Mommy?” Lucas asked, joining Brianna at the dining-room table. He climbed onto the chair next to hers, gazing down at the fabric and threads she’d picked up at the quilt shop.

  “I’m not sure,” she said with a smile. “Maybe a quilt for your bed.” Nancy had given her an old sewing machine, and after selling quilting materials all day, she’d gotten the itch to make one of her own.

  “I like this.” Lucas said, picking up some bright green fabric.

  She’d figured he would. Green was one of his favorite colors.

  “What’s this?” he asked, grabbing for the other bag she’d set on the table.

  “That is the Halloween costume you wanted,” she said as he pulled out the pirate costume.

  “Did you get a sword, too?” Lucas asked with excitement.

  “You don’t need one.”

  “But all pirates have swords,” he said, dismay written all over his face.

  “Well, this pirate carries a big plastic pumpkin to collect candy in,” she said, pulling out the pumpkin.

  “That is big,” he agreed, happier now. “I can get a lot of candy in there.”

  “Yes, you can,” she said. “So do you want to try on the costume?”

  He had his shirt off before she finished the question. A few minutes later, he was decked out in his pirate gear, complete with eye patch. He ran into the living room to look in Derek’s big mirror that was still propped against the wall and immediately started striking poses.

  She loved watching him caught up in his imagination. In Lucas’s world, anything was possible.

  The sound of a car pulling into the adjacent driveway caught his attention, and he headed for the front door.

  “I want to show Jason,” he said.

  “Wait.” But he was out the door before she could stop him. When she stepped onto the porch, he was showing off his costume to Jason, who was expressing warm enthusiasm.

  Jason was good with kids. He was patient, and he looked right at Lucas, listene
d to him, shared in his joy.

  Moisture gathered in her eyes as a wave of bittersweet emotion ran through her. This moment belonged to a father and a son. Derek should have been the one coming home from work, the one her son couldn’t wait to see. But Lucas had never had a moment like this with his father. The only time he’d spent with Derek had been in the visiting room at the prison. She’d read him letters from his dad, told him stories about Derek, and put up photographs of his father all over the house, but she’d never been able to produce the actual man.

  She blinked away the tears. It shouldn’t be Jason sharing this moment, but it was. And Lucas didn’t mind at all. Jason was quickly becoming a superhero in her little boy’s eyes.

  Lucas turned and ran back to her. “Mommy, Jason got pizza, and he said we can have some.”

  Jason took a large pizza box and a six-pack of beer out of the car, then kicked the door shut and ambled across the lawn.

  “I’ve got plenty to share,” he said.

  “It’s a little early. It’s not even five.”

  “I skipped lunch.”

  “I’m hungry, Mommy,” Lucas declared.

  “You’re always hungry,” she said with a laugh, rumpling his hair with her hands. “It does smell good.”

  “Then invite me in,” Jason said with a coaxing smile.

  If she said no, she’d probably send her son into a screaming fit, and for what? It was just pizza. They’d eat, and Jason would go home. Nothing else was going to happen. “All right, come in.”

  “Really?” Jason asked with surprise.

  “Lucas, why don’t you take off your costume and wash your hands before we eat?” she added as they entered the house.

  As Lucas headed to his bedroom, Jason followed her into the kitchen and set the pizza on the counter. “Before Lucas comes back,” he said, “I wanted to let you know that I caught Steve Markham coming out of your yard earlier today.”

  “Steve Markham?” she echoed in surprise. “What was he doing here?”

  “He said he went around back to see if you were there, but I noticed that he parked down the street as if he didn’t want anyone to know he was at your house. I thought that was odd.”

  “So do I. What did he want?”

  “He wanted to know if you have any idea where the paintings are.”

  “If I did, I would have produced them already.”

  “He thinks you might have a clue you don’t know you have. He seemed to be aware of the fact that you’d had Derek’s things shipped here. With Derek gone, you’re the closest link to those pictures.”

  Uneasiness ran through her. “Do you think Lucas and I are in some sort of danger?”

  “I hope not.”

  She didn’t like his answer. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

  “I don’t believe Markham is a danger to you, but I am concerned that someone else might see you as their best lead.”

  “But I’m not! I don’t have the paintings. I don’t know where they are. I wish I did.”

  “Have you gone through all the boxes that came from Derek’s place?”

  “Not yet. Some of them are still in the garage, but we both know that the paintings were never in his apartment. It was thoroughly searched before Nancy boxed anything up.”

  “True. But since you stuck by Derek all these years, it might be assumed that Derek told you where the paintings are.”

  “And again, if he had, I would have returned them to the museum. But Derek didn’t tell me, because he didn’t know, because he didn’t do it. And if Mr. Markham wanted to speak to me, he could have done it when I was at the gallery the other day. Unless . . . he didn’t want to say what he had to say in front of Wyatt.” She broke off as Lucas came back. “We’ll talk about this later.” She grabbed some plates out of the cupboard.

  “Do you want a beer?” Jason asked. “Or are you only a wine drinker?”

  “Beer is fine.” Although she probably could have used something a little stiffer. Having Steve Markham wandering around her property made her uneasy. The Markhams and Wyatt were the closest to Derek, the closest to the paintings, yet they had all made themselves quite unavailable during the investigation, the trial, and the past five years.

  “How was the quilt shop today?” Jason asked as they settled around the table.

  “Busy. I sat in on a group quilting project during lunch.”

  “With Kara, right?”

  “Yes, and Charlotte Adams was there, too. They’re a lot of fun.” She paused. “Kara is very protective of you.”

  “She’s protective of all her friends.”

  “I think you’re in a special category.”

  Jason nodded. “We’ve known each other since the third grade.”

  “Did you ever like her as more than a friend?”

  “Aren’t you curious all of a sudden.”

  “And aren’t you evasive all of a sudden,” she replied.

  He tipped his head with a conceding smile. “I might have had a little crush on her back in the day, but she only had eyes for Colin. He was her first, last, and always, and she was the same for him. The two of them would die for each other. And I’d die for them.”

  She believed him but she couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t felt such loyalty to Derek. “I don’t have any friendships that go that deep or that far back. It must be nice.”

  “Those kinds of friendships are fairly common in Angel’s Bay. People grow up here and stay, or they leave for a while and come back to raise their own kids.”

  “You never wanted to be a cop anywhere else?”

  “I like it here. That’s probably hard for someone who’s lived all over the world to understand.”

  “It wasn’t my choice to move as often as we did or to travel far and wide.”

  “You don’t think you would have lived that same jet-setting life with Derek?” he questioned.

  She cast a quick look at Lucas, who was stuffing pizza into his mouth and kicking a ball to Digger under the table. He wasn’t paying any attention to them, but still . . . “Maybe,” she said. “But I can see the charm of a small community. The women at the quilt shop have been very nice to me. The only bad run-in I had was yesterday, when Mrs. Hanlon came in.”

  He frowned. “What did she say to you?”

  “The same old accusations. In her mind, Derek and I are the same person.”

  “I’d avoid her and her husband whenever possible, and her son, too. He’s a loose cannon.”

  “I forgot they had a son,” she said. “He’s our age, right?”

  “A couple of years older,” Jason replied.

  “Jason, look,” Lucas interrupted, a long strand of cheese hanging from his mouth to his plate.

  “Lucas,” Brianna scolded. “Food is not to play with.”

  “Your mom’s right,” Jason said, adding his support.

  Lucas quickly shoved the cheese into his mouth. He might have argued with her but not with Jason.

  As they ate, conversation turned to the upcoming Harvest Festival, Jason giving her a rundown on all the events. The atmosphere was easy, relaxed, almost surreal, Brianna thought. After their encounter the night before, she’d dreaded seeing him again, but here they were, seated around the table like a family. She’d never imagined that one day she’d be sharing a meal with Jason and not be unhappy about it.

  “So I was thinking,” Jason began, as Lucas took his empty plate to the counter and then headed out of the kitchen. “You should take me up on my offer to teach you how to surf.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said quickly. “I’m not a fan of cold water.”

  “I have a wetsuit that will fit you.”

  “I told you I’m not a great swimmer.”

  “But you’ve been in the ocean before. You can swim,” he said.

  “In warm oceans like in Hawaii, where it’s more like a soothing bath than a battle against nature.”

  “Battling nature can give you a tremendous sense
of power, especially when you win. It’s a great feeling.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, weakening against his eager persistence. She’d been wanting to step outside her usual life, but surfing? And with Jason? She shouldn’t even be considering it.

  “It will be fun. We could go tomorrow morning,” he said. “The Kanes seem eager to watch Lucas whenever you need them to.”

  “I don’t like to take advantage of them,” she said, though the Kanes would be thrilled if she called up and said she’d be dropping Lucas off in the morning. “I’m sure they wouldn’t be happy to hear we were doing anything together.”

  “This isn’t about them,” he said quietly.

  “It is about them,” she corrected. “They’re important to me. I couldn’t have survived without their support the past five years. Nancy was in the delivery room when Lucas was born; she coached me through the contractions. Every time they’d come to visit, Rick would fix things around the house, Nancy would cook meals, and they’d shower Lucas and me with love. I celebrated every birthday, every holiday with them. In some ways—” She stopped, realizing how much she was revealing.

  “What?” he prodded.

  “In some ways, I felt more married to them than to Derek,” she confessed, feeling a little guilty at the thought. “I would never do anything that would hurt them.”

  “I wouldn’t want to see the Kanes hurt, either. They were my second family growing up. When my father was on one of his depressed benders, they fed me meals and let me sleep over. I thought they were the perfect parents and that Derek was the luckiest guy in the world.”

  “Is that where your rivalry started—because Derek had what you didn’t?”

  He shook his head. “No, our rivalry started because we were both highly competitive people, Derek even more so than me. Maybe it was because his grandfather was so hard on him when it came to his art—perhaps that’s why he needed to prove himself in every other area. He always had to win. He had to be the best and have the best.”

  “The boy you knew sounds different from the man I married,” she said with a shake of her head. “Derek had big dreams and ambitions, but I never saw an obsessive drive for material things or any desire to break the law, and I certainly never saw any hint of violence. Even if I could believe that Derek stole those paintings, I could never believe he attacked the security guard. But it’s pointless for us to discuss it—we’ll never agree.”