Regan Reilly Boxed Set 1

by Carol Higgins Clark

  Two miles later, Kit changed her mind. I’ll call and if she answers the phone, I’ll make it quick. I’ll wish them a happy anniversary, even though it’s not until Sunday.

  Kit’s cell phone was connected to the Bluetooth in her car. She leaned over, pressed a button, then pressed Regan’s name when it came up on the screen. As the connection was made, Kit put her hand back on the steering wheel.

  After two rings, Regan picked up. “Hi, Kit!”

  “Regan, hi.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing!” Kit insisted. “I’m fine. I just wanted to say a quick hello. I’m heading home from my business trip to Boston.”

  “How was it?”

  “A little stressful. But it’s over. Listen, how is it down there? The rain isn’t coming through the roof or anything like that, I hope.”

  “No, the roof’s not leaking,” Regan laughed, “but—”

  “Listen, Regan, I don’t want to hold you,” Kit interrupted. “I just thought I’d say hi, so have a good time . . .”

  “Kit!” Regan said. “Why are you hanging up? You didn’t let me finish my answer.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Do you have a couple minutes?”

  “I just got in the car. I’ve got plenty of time.”

  Quickly Regan explained their day.

  “Are you kidding?” Kit asked. “And those ladies and the caretaker are staying at the house with you tonight? I can’t believe it. I pictured you two having a romantic weekend.”

  “That was the plan. What are you doing this weekend?”

  “Nothing really,” Kit answered. “I’ll go to the gym . . .”

  “You’re just leaving Boston now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Drive to the Cape.”

  “What?”

  “Come down for the night. Although you might not ever speak to me again. As a matter of fact, I’m sure you’ll never speak to me again. This will be the end of our friendship, but come on down anyway. We’re having a potluck dinner.”

  Kit laughed. Regan knows me so well, she thought, as her eyes grew misty. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes! Maybe you can help us figure out who Adele Hopkins is and where she came from.”

  “I’m sure I’ll crack the case wide open,” Kit answered. “What’s your address down there? I’ll plug it into my GPS.”

  “Pond Road in Chatwich. We’re the next-to-the-last house on the left. If we’re not there for some reason, but our visitors are, good luck.”

  “Thanks, Regan. I’ll just stay one night. When I was your maid of honor last year, I never thought I’d be with you and Jack on your first-anniversary weekend getaway.”

  “The more the merrier. If you see someone along the way who you’d like to invite, by all means feel free.”

  “Goodbye, Regan!” Kit said.

  “Goodbye!”

  Kit pressed the disconnect button. I know I’ll never find another friend like her, she thought, her spirits lifted. It doesn’t sound like Adele Hopkins had any friends at all. The poor woman.

  22

  Nora Regan Reilly spent the morning working on her next book. At lunchtime she brought a sandwich to her desk, printed the pages she had just written, and as she ate, read them over. Pen in hand, she scribbled minor changes. She had already made most of her major revisions on the computer. One of her friends who owned a bookstore remarked that computers were great, but writers who use them no longer had true first drafts of their manuscripts. Thanks to the delete button, the original versions of their work never see the light of day. Nora had joked that that was probably the way most writers wanted it.

  After making her corrections, Nora went back downstairs and turned on the kettle. Waiting for the water to boil, she peered out the kitchen window. The rain was still coming down in sheets.

  What a day, she thought, then smiled. I wonder if the wedding cake has been delivered yet. Last year she had wrapped that top layer so carefully before storing it in the freezer, following instructions she’d found on the internet, which required plastic bags, plastic wrap, a vacuum bag, a box, and more plastic. Yet nearly every reader’s comment she’d read on those wedding cake websites said that no matter what they’d done, their anniversary cake tasted lousy. One woman wrote that she and her husband took a taste and threw the rest away. As long as Regan and Jack take one bite of the cake this Sunday, I’ll be happy, Nora decided as the kettle started to shriek. She was dying to find out if all that plastic had been worth it.

  Just last year at this time, Nora thought again, as she prepared her tea. Just last year. I can picture everything. She sighed. A couple of minutes later she found herself sitting in the den, watching the video of Regan’s wedding day.

  Nora smiled at the scenes of Regan getting ready with the bridesmaids, Regan getting out of the limo at the church, the bridesmaids coming down the aisle. Then the music stopped and all was quiet. When Regan and Luke came from the side of the vestibule and stepped into view at the back of the church, Nora reached for her hankie and dabbed her eyes. The congregation rose. The Trumpet Voluntary in D filled the air, and the two people she loved most in this world started up the aisle. By the time they were halfway to the altar, Nora’s eyes had welled with tears. But it was the sight of a beaming Jack, reaching out his hand for Regan, that sent the tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank God!” she cried, shaking her head, and wiping her eyes. “Thank you God,” she whispered.

  “Having fun?”

  Nora jumped.

  Luke was standing in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear. “I wish Regan could see this. And I don’t mean the video.”

  “Luke!” Nora protested. Flustered, she dabbed her eyes again and tried to laugh. “It’s very emotional. I hadn’t watched the video in so long.”

  “It sounds like you never thought Regan would get married.”

  “No—” Nora waved her hand. “You know I don’t mean that. I never thought that she’d find someone as wonderful as Jack.”

  “Oh I see.”

  “It’s true!”

  “She has me to thank.”

  “She knows, Luke, she knows!” Nora said, trying to regain her composure. “As long as you’re here, why don’t you sit down and watch with me for a few minutes?”

  “I’m hungry. I thought I’d stop home for lunch.”

  “Five minutes, I promise. Then I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  The phone rang.

  “Saved by the bell!” Luke said happily as Nora reached for the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Nora, this is Eileen Reilly.”

  “Hello, Eileen, how have you been?”

  “Pretty good. And you?”

  “Fine,” Nora answered. By now Luke had escaped to the kitchen and was making a sandwich.

  “With Regan and Jack’s anniversary upon us, I’ve been thinking that we don’t see you enough. When the kids get back, why don’t the six of us make a date to have dinner in the city? We can toast them together.”

  “That’s a marvelous idea,” Nora answered. “We’d love that. I’m sure Regan and Jack are having a wonderful anniversary weekend at your place on the Cape.”

  “Oh,” Eileen said. “I guess you haven’t spoken to Regan.”

  “No I haven’t,” Nora answered quickly. “I didn’t think I’d hear from her this weekend.”

  “Well, the only reason Jack called me . . .” Eileen began.

  Nora listened as Eileen filled her in on what had happened to her neighbor’s tenant.

  “. . . So I told Jack we had a key to the Carpenters’ house they could use. Dorie and I keep a copy of each other’s keys in case of emergencies.”

  “What did they find?” Nora asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Nora was stunned. “You don’t?”

  “Jack hasn’t called back yet. I’m sure he will later. I didn’t want to bother him in case they’re still working with the police.”
r />   If Regan and Jack were staying at my house and something like this happened, Nora thought, I wouldn’t be able to help myself from calling every five minutes, police or no police. “Well, Eileen, this is quite a shock. It’s such a terrible shame about that woman.”

  “It certainly is. And our caretaker is just the sweetest kid. I feel so sorry for him. He’s devastated.”

  Nora remembered a literature class she’d taken in college. The professor said that some of the saddest feelings people experience are when they think about “what might have been.”

  “It’s understandable he’s so upset,” Nora agreed. “I’ll call Regan later this afternoon and check in.”

  “Let’s talk again next week and set up that dinner date.”

  Nora hung up and carried the phone into the kitchen.

  “What happened?” Luke asked. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “Wait till you hear this,” she said, recounting to Luke what Eileen had told her, then she hurriedly dialed Regan’s cell number. “I can’t believe that woman was swept out to sea. It’s so sad. I know you said not to call Regan, but this is different. I just want to know what’s going on . . .”

  Luke nodded. Swept out to sea, he thought. Being a funeral director, he knew how painful it was for families when there’d be no grave site to visit, nor ashes to hold dear.

  23

  Reed jumped up from the couch when Olivia came breezing into the apartment. “My morning was fine,” he answered quickly. “I’ve been preparing for my meeting this afternoon.”

  Olivia came over, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. “We closed the office early. After you get back, we have the whole weekend together. Finally! I can’t stand all these business trips!”

  Olivia was new to Boston when she met Reed. The start-up technology company she worked for was opening offices all around the world, which meant that her job involved constant travel. Boston was the latest city her company had targeted. Olivia’s boss promised if she relocated to Boston she wouldn’t have to go on the road as much, which greatly relieved her. She moved into a club downtown, intending to look for an apartment, but never had time. The traveling was less, but still a burden. Then she met Reed. They fell in love so fast. He convinced her to move in with him.

  Reed was trying to focus. He was still reeling from what Ellen had written about him. “We’ll have a wonderful weekend,” he agreed.

  “Sit, sit,” Olivia told him. “I don’t want to interrupt your work. How about if I fix us lunch?”

  “I’d love that,” he lied. His guts were churning. I’m going to lose her, he thought, as she hurried away, humming a tune as she hung up her coat. I can’t let that happen. He ran his hand through his hair and felt himself sweating.

  Shouldn’t Ellen be happy with all her success? Can’t she just leave me alone? Is she going to keep this up forever?

  He was afraid she was. Like a dog with a bone, Ellen was never going to let go.

  Reed could barely eat, which Olivia noticed.

  “Can I fix you something else?” she asked. “This quiche was—”

  “No,” he said quickly, then smiled. “I’m so preoccupied by this meeting.”

  “We’ll have a nice dinner,” Olivia said, clearing the plates. “I’ll leave you in peace and go downstairs to the gym. I’m so glad I don’t have to go out in the rain!”

  Reed went back to his computer. Olivia straightened up the kitchen, then went into the bedroom. It was comforting to have her around. Ten minutes later she sailed past him in her workout clothes. “See you later, darling.” She disappeared out the door, a trace of her perfume lingering in the air.

  Reed didn’t move a muscle. The apartment felt so empty without her. He’d lied to Olivia about the meeting. There was no meeting. He wanted her to think that at least something was happening in his career.

  He spent twenty minutes surfing the web before Olivia burst through the door. Quickly he looked up.

  “Reed, my mother just called my cell phone!” she said excitedly. “Daddy isn’t feeling well again. My mother’s afraid he might have another heart attack. They’re on their way to the hospital.”

  Reed jumped up and hurried toward her. “What can I do?”

  She looked up at him. It broke his heart to see how sad her eyes were. She’d obviously been crying. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to fly home,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry about our weekend.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Reed said. “Let me go with you.”

  Olivia shook her head. “No, that’s not going to work. My mother is so private and formal and old-world. I think it would be better if I went alone. This isn’t the time for you to meet my parents.”

  Reed hugged her. “I’m sorry that hasn’t happened yet. At Christmas I had to go visit my mother . . .”

  “Oh, I know,” Olivia said. “And we had those plans to go away for New Year’s, so there wasn’t time to visit each other’s families. The time has gone so fast!” She started crying. “I’m so worried about my father.”

  “Let me come with you,” Reed suggested. “I’ll fly with you to Atlanta, then fly back. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “No,” Olivia insisted. “You have that meeting this afternoon. I’ll call the airlines and book a flight. I hope that there aren’t too many delays with all this rain.”

  “At least let me drive you to the airport.”

  “No. I want to leave as soon as possible. Concentrate on your presentation. You’ve had enough disappointments lately . . .”

  All thanks to Ellen, he thought angrily.

  “We’ll have reason to celebrate if you get this project off the ground,” she said, daintily wiping her eyes.

  Reed stared at her. She was so beautiful and at this moment looked so vulnerable. He cupped her face in his hands. “You are in my life. Believe me, Livvy, I need no other reason to celebrate.”

  She nodded. “Me too. I’d better pack.” She hurried past him into the bedroom.

  Standing in the living room, Reed shook his head. He felt helpless. He hated seeing Olivia so upset. We belong together. I should have proposed already but didn’t want to seem too anxious. I will when she comes back. She loves me and has stood by my side when other women would have walked away. And now, with her father sick, how much more can she take? If she hears about what Ellen wrote today . . .

  Reed’s jaw tightened. If she does, she does. But there’s one thing I’m going to make certain, he thought darkly. There will be nothing for her to hear about again.

  24

  Regan was finishing up the conversation with her mother as she and Jack got in the car outside Fern’s. Or at least she thought she was. “I promise . . . Yes, the neighbors are on their way down from Boston . . . It is remarkable that they knew nothing about a woman they rented their house to . . . Jack will have his office trace the license plate once we get in the garage . . . I promise I’ll let you know . . .”

  By the time she hung up, they were halfway back to the Reilly home. “I get the feeling my mother is in shock that you haven’t called your mother back.”

  “I don’t have anything to tell her.”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  Jack smiled. “I, for one, can’t believe Fern didn’t know this woman. Hopkins must have placed herself in solitary confinement.”

  “Avoiding Ginny and Fran I can understand,” Regan said. “Not Fern’s diner. If those two find out they were living alone on a block with someone who might have been hiding out from the bad guys, they won’t be pleased. I can just hear them now.”

  “They’re right, though,” Jack said. “For all we know Hopkins could have been dealing drugs.”

  “I doubt it,” Regan said. “Not with all those apology cards on the table.”

  A few minutes later they were passing Ginny and Fran’s home. The front window was still covered with plastic. “I’m surprised they’re not back yet.” Jack commented.

 
“Uh-oh,” Regan said. “Look what’s ahead.” A news van was parked in front of the Carpenters’ house. “That reporter Fern was talking about must still be here.”

  “Let’s get into the house as fast as we can,” Jack said. “It would help if they ever paved the end of this road,” he added, slowing down to avoid the holes and bumps his parents had been complaining about for years.

  By the time he turned into their driveway, the reporter and his cameraman had hightailed it to their property. He and Regan both got out of the car, only to have a microphone stuck in their faces as they hurried up the walk.

  “Sir, do you live here?” the reporter asked, moving quickly beside them.

  “It’s my parents’ home,” Jack answered, Regan’s hand in his as they continued toward the house.

  “I understand it was your family’s caretaker who found Adele Hopkins on the beach and left her there. Can I get your comments on what a terrible mistake that was?”

  You just lost him, pal, Regan thought as Jack’s face tightened.

  “The whole situation is a tragedy,” Jack replied, his tone curt. “If you don’t mind.” Key in hand, he unlocked the door, pushed it open, and followed Regan inside.

  The reporter continued shouting questions after they closed the door. “Do you think Hopkins was still alive? Did you know her? . . .”

  “Ohhhh,” Jack grunted as he and Regan headed toward the kitchen. “There are a lot of good reporters on the Cape. I don’t know where this one came from.”

  “I just hope he’s gone by the time Skip gets back,” Regan said, then frowned. “How long can it take to buy a piece of wood?”

  25

  Devon stood at the kitchen door waving goodbye and watching as Floyd raced to his car and tore down the driveway. If only a good long soak in a tub would calm you down, Devon thought frantically, I’d draw your bath myself.