In Shelter Cove (Angel's Bay)

by Barbara Freethy

  “What side of the bed do you sleep on?” he asked.

  “I pretty much take over the middle,” she said, turning in his arms. “I haven’t had to share.”

  “That’s going to change.”

  “Jason—”

  “I know, it’s too fast,” he said. “But you don’t want to talk. You don’t want to think. So how shall we pass the time?”

  She liked his smile now, liked how easy it was between them. Jason could be intense and passionate but also teasing and playful. “You could tell me about yourself,” she suggested, knowing that wasn’t what he had in mind. “Stories that don’t involve Derek, preferably.” She moved out of his arms and sat down on the bed, scooting up to lean against the headboard and stretch out her legs.

  Jason sat across from her. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about your last girlfriend.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Okay, when did you decide to become a cop?”

  “I had the idea in my head for a while—because of my mom.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked in surprise.

  “She didn’t just die; she was killed,” he said somberly. “A bank robbery. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She died on the way to the hospital.”

  She put her hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry, Jason.”

  “I never got to say good-bye. My dad didn’t, either, and it made him nuts. We had no closure. One minute she was there, and the next she wasn’t.”

  Brianna could relate; Derek’s death had also been shocking and unexpected. But she didn’t want to bring him or her feelings into Jason’s story. “What do you remember about her?”

  He thought for a moment. “Her laugh. She had one of those all-body laughs. Her shoulders would shake, and tears would stream out of her eyes, and she’d tell my dad that he was just too funny for words.”

  “So your dad’s a funny guy?”

  “He can be, especially after a few beers. But he’s also an emotional man; whatever he’s feeling is always right there on his face. And believe me, he feels everything.”

  She stared at Jason, understanding him a little bit better. His mother’s death had shut him down. His father had been able to express his grief, and in doing so had maybe overwhelmed Jason even more. “So you’re not big on feelings?”

  “Not when they hurt, and they usually do.” He paused. “I don’t need to tell you that, do I? Look what love got you.”

  “A lot of pain,” she admitted. “But a lot more, too, including Lucas. I’ll never regret loving Derek. I might be sorry I stood by him, but I won’t be sorry that I was with him.” She paused. “I think your mother would be really proud of what you’ve done with your life.”

  “I hope so. When I first became a cop, I saw everything as black or white, right or wrong, good guys on one side, bad guys on the other. I pursued justice for the victims of crime, but I didn’t realize there were victims on both sides of the equation—people like you and Lucas, who got caught up in a situation that wasn’t of your making. I never thought I’d have to arrest one of my closest friends or that I’d be responsible for ruining your life. It might not have looked like I cared, because I had to keep that professional distance, but it ate me up inside.”

  She was touched by his admission. “I didn’t want to see your side of it. I just wanted you to be wrong,” she admitted.

  “I can understand that. Look, if you want to talk about Derek, I’ll listen. I might not agree, but I’ll hear you out.”

  She thought about that. “Okay—then there is something I want to share. I told you about Derek’s letter. He said a bit more than that he loved me and he was innocent.”

  “I figured.”

  “He said that while he hadn’t taken the paintings, he wasn’t completely innocent, either, and that I didn’t know who he really was. The more I learn about him, the more I realize that he was right.”

  “Did he give you anything more concrete?” Jason asked.

  “He was very cryptic, but he also left me some sketches.” She went over to the dresser to retrieve the envelope. As she picked it up, her eye caught on the framed photograph of Derek and her that had been taken on the Angel’s Bay beach for their engagement shot. The glass was broken, tiny pieces lying on the dresser. “That’s weird. How did this break?”

  Jason got up from the bed. “Maybe Lucas was throwing a ball around in here.”

  “I think he would have told me.” She remembered the eerie sensation she’d had earlier when she’d first come into the house. But her doors had all been locked—at least, she’d thought they were. She’d gotten into the habit of leaving the back door open for Lucas and Digger to go in and out.

  “What’s wrong?” Jason asked. “Is it that the photo is damaged? Or that you don’t know how it happened?”

  She hadn’t thought about the meaning of the picture being broken. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m going to look around,” Jason said.

  “I let Digger into the yard earlier, and I locked the door when I came back in. But I can’t remember if it was unlocked when I first went out there.”

  “I’ll be back.”

  While Jason was gone, she took the envelope back to the bed and sat down. Pulling out the letter she read through it again. It was easier the second time; she had more distance now. And Derek’s voice in her head was nowhere near as loud. She hoped to see some new clue in his words, but nothing jumped out at her. She set the photos aside and leafed through the sketches.

  “Everything looks fine,” Jason said, returning to the bedroom. He sat down on the bed and picked up the sketch of her in the L.A. gallery. “Did Derek do this?”

  “In prison,” she said. “These sketches were with the letter. I had no idea he was drawing. I used to bring him books and magazines; he never asked for a sketch pad or pencils. I don’t know where he got the materials.”

  “They’re really good,” Jason said quietly as they looked through the pictures.

  “He drew you, I think.” Brianna held up a sketch of two boys climbing on rocks in front of a cave that looked very much like the one Jason had shown her at Shelter Cove.

  “I wonder why. He even made me look good, no devil’s pitchfork in my hand,” he said wryly.

  “I guess he was remembering the good times.” She liked the ones of Lucas. Derek had captured all the details of his face: his eyes, his brows that quirked with curiosity, his big smile.

  Setting those drawings aside, she picked up another sketch. “Derek liked to draw the coast, and this looks like an art studio.” She paused, noting the shadowy silhouettes of a man and a woman in a passionate embrace. “Who do you think these two are?”

  Jason’s gaze followed hers. “Derek, maybe?”

  “I wonder who the woman is.” She tilted her head. “There’s something off about some of the pictures. Like things aren’t in the right spot.”

  “I agree,” Jason said, puzzlement in his eyes. He studied the sketch for another moment, then said, “I’ve got it. It’s a mirror image. He’s sketching what he sees through the mirror.”

  He was right. “Katherine said Derek liked to use unique perspectives when he painted. He saw the world in a different way from most artists.” She sighed and put the sketches aside.

  “I wish he’d just told me what he did or didn’t do. I keep thinking I’m missing a clue.”

  “Maybe you are,” Jason said, surprising her.

  “But you’ve always thought Derek was guilty,” she reminded him.

  “I’ve also always thought he had a partner, someone here in Angel’s Bay.”

  She thought about her earlier conversation with Gloria. “When I spoke to Gloria, she said she’d never thought that Derek would die in prison. She’d never imagined that it would end that way. That doesn’t sound like much, but if you’d heard the note in her voice . . . I got the feeling there was some plan Derek had screwed up by dying in prison.�
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  “That sounds like a stretch.”

  “I could be reading more than was there,” she admitted. “But taking Derek out of it for a moment, someone else was involved, and it was probably an individual well connected to the art world. The Markhams, Wyatt—we keep coming back to them.”

  “I talked to them all several times.”

  “Do you think you asked the right questions?”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, but she wasn’t going to back down. He wanted her to face some hard truths; perhaps he needed to do the same thing.

  “I thought I did, but you’ve given me some doubts,” he said finally.

  “Then we’re even. Because you’ve given me some doubts, too.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he promised.

  “Together? Even if it means uncovering a mistake in the investigation?”

  His jaw hardened. “I hope that doesn’t happen, but I’d rather admit a mistake than let a guilty person continue to go free.”

  She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she was caught off guard by a rush of emotion.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting across the bed. “Why are you crying?”

  “You’re on my side,” she said simply. “Even though you don’t really believe me, you’re still willing to help me. That means a lot. I’m not feeling all that strong on my own.”

  “You’ve got amazing strength, Brianna. It pissed me off that you stood by Derek, but I couldn’t help admiring your loyalty, your devotion, your determination to fight for him.”

  “Even if I was fighting the wrong fight?”

  He smiled. “Let’s wait and see how this ends before we make any judgments. Since there’s not a lot we can do this second, how do you feel about . . . getting a little more comfortable?”

  “Hmm, sounds perfect. Maybe I’ll take off a few things,” she said teasingly.

  “I’ll help,” he offered.

  “I bet you will.”

  He stole a kiss, then pulled back. “You’d better set your alarm first.”

  “Why? I don’t have to pick up Lucas until eleven.”

  “But you’ll be up at six, because that’s when the waves will be the calmest.”

  “I’m not going surfing with you.”

  “It’s perfect timing. Lucas is occupied. It will be just you and me.”

  “But—”

  He kissed her again, and as his tongue slid along her lips, she decided to let the argument wait until later . . . much later.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Brianna said early the next morning as she stood in a wetsuit on the sand, shivering in the cold morning air. Jason had taken her to the beach behind his condo, and they were completely alone. The waves were gentle, but the ocean was still vast, deep, and scary.

  “You’ll have fun, I promise,” Jason said reassuringly.

  “I liked the fun we were having before you dragged me out of bed,” she said grumpily.

  “You told me that you’ve spent too much of your life as a spectator. Here’s your chance to get your feet wet,” he added with a laugh.

  “Very funny. But I’m a mother; I can’t do risky things. I’m all Lucas has left.”

  “I would never let anything happen to you. You can trust me, Brianna. But more important, you can trust yourself. You can do this. I know you can.”

  It was past time to step outside the lines that had limited her life. “All right. Let’s do it.”

  He slung the board under his arm and took her hand. “We’ll go together the first couple of times. Then you can try your own board.”

  Her toes hit the freezing water, and her teeth began to chatter. She almost backed out, but Jason had her hand, and he wasn’t letting go. As they got deeper, the wetsuit soaked up the cold, but she could still feel the sting of the water as they paddled out to the waves.

  She gripped the sides of the board tightly as Jason turned it toward the shore.

  “When I say go, start paddling,” he said. “I’m going to be with you the whole time, hanging on to the back. Just stay on your stomach the first time. Next time, we’ll get you up on your feet.”

  “I didn’t think we’d be this far out,” she said, panic running through her.

  “The waves will take you home.” He kissed her cheek. Then he slid toward the back of the board and said, “Go.”

  She started paddling, feeling the wave rise beneath her. Suddenly, the ocean was doing all the work, and she was flying toward the shore. She hung on for dear life, but she managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of seawater that left her spluttering when the board hit the sand. Still, she felt supremely triumphant. “Let’s do it again!” she said, coughing out the words.

  Jason grinned. “You’re on.”

  On her second ride, she tried standing up, lasting about three seconds before she slid off the board. Jason was instantly by her side, pulling her up to the surface.

  “Do you want to take a break?” he asked as she grabbed the board again.

  She shook her head. “Not until I can ride a wave all the way in. I want to do it, Jason. I want to beat Mother Nature at her own game.”

  He laughed. “I thought you weren’t a competitor.”

  “I guess I am,” she said with a smile. “And maybe a surfer, too.”

  It took three more tries to ride a wave all the way to the shore, but when it happened, she was giddy with joy. She jumped up and down in the knee-deep water, flinging her arms around Jason’s neck and giving him a long, wet kiss. “Thank you,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “That was amazing.”

  He tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “I think you found that girl in the bar again.”

  “I think I did.”

  As a man called to his dog, she turned her head. The beach was waking up. An older couple was coming down the steps to the beach, and a car full of young guys was unloading their surfboards in the nearby lot.

  “We should go.” It was one thing to be with Jason when it was just the two of them, another to be out in public together. She wasn’t quite ready to announce to the world that they were friends.

  “Yeah, we should,” he echoed, a grim look on his face.

  “Jason, I need some time to figure out how to handle this—us. I don’t even know what we are exactly, and it’s complicated.”

  “I understand.” He dragged the board up to the beach.

  “You don’t sound like you do,” she said, following him out of the water.

  “What do you want me to say, Brianna? I don’t care who sees us together, but you do.”

  “That’s true for now, not forever. I just need time to figure things out.”

  “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. But I will be at the kite festival today. I promised Lucas, and I won’t let him down.”

  “He would be crushed if you did,” she said, appreciating his concern for her son. “But I don’t want to put him in the middle of your battle with the Kanes.”

  “It’s not my battle; it’s theirs. And I don’t think it’s just Lucas you’re worried about.”

  “I love them, Jason. I don’t want to have to choose between you.”

  “It might come to that, Brianna.”

  “Well, it’s not there yet.” And she hoped it never would be.

  “How am I going to pick?” Annie asked Charlotte, desperation in her voice.

  Charlotte had stopped in the doorway to ask Annie if she was ready to go to church and found her sitting in the middle of her bed with a bunch of file folders in front of her.

  “They’re all good people,” Annie said. “Way better than me. One of the ladies is a teacher. Another is a nurse. This guy is a doctor. They’re all smart with money. They’re married and in love.” She choked back a sob.

  “Oh, honey, are you all right?” Charlotte sat down next to Annie, putting her arm around her shoulders.

  “I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Annie said. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this
. I wasn’t supposed to get pregnant or end up alone. I’m dependent on you and your mother, and we’re not even related.”

  “My mother and I love having you here, and we have no intention of putting you or the baby out. Mom already pulled out Jamie’s old crib and some of the clothes she kept from when we were babies.”

  “She’s being very nice. But Reverend Schilling said I need to think about what’s best for my child long-term.”

  “Do any of these couples stand out?” Charlotte asked, glancing at the photos attached to each file.

  Annie’s shoulders started to shake, and Charlotte saw not just worry on her teary cheeks but also fear.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” she asked, softly.

  “He wants to adopt the baby. He’s in one of these pictures.”

  It took a moment for Annie’s words to sink in. “He? You mean the father?” Charlotte’s gaze flew back to the pictures. There were five possibilities, all of them married.

  “He doesn’t want his wife to know that he’s the father. He wants to pretend that it’s just a straight adoption.”

  “That is wrong on so many levels. Did you talk to him, Annie?”

  “He called me before I met him and his wife. He told me not to say anything, that this was the perfect way for him to help. He’d take the child and raise it as his own, and his wife would be a good mother, and no one would ever have to know that he was really the biological father.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything when I met with him and his wife and Reverend Schilling, but it was hard. I was afraid to look at him or her, scared I might give something away.”

  “Who is he, Annie?”

  “I can’t tell you yet. I don’t know if I can give up my baby and watch my child being raised by his wife.” Another tear slid down her cheek. “I know it was wrong of me to have sex with him. He was just so nice to me. He made me feel special, and I loved him.”

  “I know you did, honey.”

  “I shouldn’t have done it.”

  All five of the men were at least a decade older than Annie. “You didn’t do it alone, and this guy knew how young and innocent you were. He took advantage of you, Annie.”