A Stone in Time

by Kim Allred

  “The granddaughter had walked outside to remove the sale sign when a car pulled up. A woman got out and said she’d tried to get there earlier but had gotten turned around. The granddaughter understood. I had a difficult time, for that matter—the place isn’t easy to find if you aren’t a local. Anyway, she felt bad closing the sale after the woman had such trouble finding the place, so she let the woman look around while she finished closing.”

  Adam shook his head again. “If she had told the woman no, I’d have your piece right now.”

  Finn lowered his head and turned the pint in front of him, wanting to finish it in one long swallow. They had been so close.

  “The woman saw the piece in the collection case and talked the granddaughter into selling it, for a more than reasonable price. While she hadn’t planned on selling it, nothing was holding her to it, and this woman had been so enraptured by the piece, she saw no reason not to sell it. And that, my friend, was that.”

  It was Finn’s turn for silence. He was tempted to finish his pint, perhaps even a second one. He could call this stool his own for the afternoon. Positioned away from the entrance, he could ignore the day and join the other poor souls melted onto their stools, with no direction and no one to go home to.

  Adam sighed. “Look. I haven’t stopped the search, and I might have an angle on who the woman is.”

  Finn snapped out of his stupor. “Who is she? How can I find her?”

  Adam raised his hand. “No. You need to be patient. I can get you what you want, but I need a little more time.”

  “But if you know who has it, I can take care of it easily enough.”

  Adam shifted in his seat, glanced at the man at the end of the counter, then scanned his surroundings with clear disgust. “No. From what I’ve uncovered about this woman, it would be better if we take a more subtle approach. I’m not sure money will sway her, but you never know.” Adam sat straighter, the scotch cobwebs falling away. “Give me some more time. I’ll get the piece for you.”

  Adam was right. He could mess it up, barging into an unfamiliar situation himself. He needed to remain patient. “All right. But I won’t wait much longer. I’ll give you a day, two at most. Don’t make me come looking.” Throwing some money on the bar, Finn strode out, leaving Adam to mull over his next move.

  36

  AJ picked through her salad, her appetite fading. Ethan’s suspicions hammered at her. She had no reason to doubt Ethan’s expertise or his information, yet she hadn’t seen anything questionable in Finn’s activities other than not sharing his purpose for being in Baywood. “I don’t know. I guess I should be worried, but I’m not. There’s nothing there, not anymore.” She pushed the rest of her salad away. “Maybe I’m too close.”

  “Maybe,” Stella said. “What exactly did you talk about at dinner?”

  “In the end, not much. He has a way of turning the conversation away from himself, not unlike Ethan.”

  “They do seem similar in not talking about themselves.”

  “But I did get enough about the ship for my article, and some history on one of its earlier owners,” AJ said. “Another sad account of shattered dreams and dysfunctional families. History is filled with so many of those, I guess no one is interested in happy endings.”

  “Which, I may point out, is not much different from today. Although, I prefer a storybook ending.”

  “That’s you. Ever the optimist.”

  “Well, someone has to be, and I’m happy to carry the burden.”

  AJ reviewed the events of the last several days in her mind, tracing back all the times she had been with Finn or seen him. She didn’t think anything nefarious was going on, but something didn’t want to let go. She played with the plastic covering her cookie, rolling her fingers over the lumps and bumps of raisins, staring through it, until an image emerged.

  She pictured the chart table and the edges of the older chart, hidden under the newer ones. If she had been able to see it, her gut told her it would have provided the answers she needed. She had concluded there was no story with Finn or the Daphne Marie, but now here was Ethan with his questions. Questions she herself asked just a couple of days ago.

  “What?” Stella asked, breaking the silence. She always seemed to know when AJ was troubled by something.

  “Have I been so blinded by the mystery of him, I’m not seeing what’s right in front of me?” The question came out in a harsh whisper.

  Stella placed a hand on her friend’s arm, her own voice not much louder. “We don’t know anything, only Ethan’s suspicions.”

  “And that’s not good enough to at least give it some credence?”

  Stella pushed her plate away. “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

  AJ shook her head. “You’re right. I don’t know what to think. I’ve gone back over every minute I could remember seeing him or being around him. The only other person I’ve seen him with is Mr. Jackson, and we haven’t found a drop of anything to even suspect he’s up to no good, let alone point to him as being the town’s fence.”

  “What about Adam?” Stella packed up her trash. “Who hired him to check out Westcliffe? Or is that a coincidence?”

  AJ leaned against the table, lunch trash still in hand. She had forgotten about Adam. “I don’t know how to figure that one out. Not without asking him. I’m not sure how to go about it.”

  “You’re a reporter. Can’t you tie it back to your story on the inn? I did see him at the recorder’s office.”

  AJ mulled it over. “And you were there, what, checking it out to help me with the story? That will make him suspicious.”

  “And if he’s not in the right mood, we’ll have to listen to the old client-attorney privilege spiel.”

  “Let’s go. You need to get to your appointment. Maybe I need to visit Finn again. See if I can get him to open up.”

  This time, Stella barked out a laugh, causing a few heads to turn. “And we know the best way for that to work.”

  AJ reddened and hurried out in front of Stella. She pushed through the door with her head lowered and didn’t see the man until she bumped into him.

  “AJ, I’ve been looking for you.”

  Ethan, as always, had a smile ready for her, but this time with a furrowed brow. His eyes were a shade darker than normal, and a questioning concern lurked in their depths.

  “Hey, Ethan.” Stella pushed AJ farther out the door, away from the entrance. “We just finished lunch, and I have to get to an appointment.”

  Ethan glanced at Stella. “Have you talked to AJ about my concern?”

  “Yes, but she still has reservations. As do I.” Stella searched her bag, finally picking out her keys. She turned and, catching AJ off guard, hugged her tight and whispered in her ear. “Listen to what he has to say, but use your own judgment. And be careful either way.” Stella let AJ go and searched her friend’s face, looking like she wanted to say something else. “Call me later, honey.”

  Before turning away, Stella pointed to Ethan. “You owe me a dinner for ruining my quiet evening.”

  AJ saw the concern reflected in Ethan’s thin face. “I hear you have questions about Finn Murphy. Do you want to come into the office?”

  “Let’s walk instead.”

  The pavement was damp from drizzle that had turned on and off all morning. The clouds had lifted, although the gray skies refused to go away entirely. She shrugged. “I won’t melt if it starts to rain again.”

  AJ led them down the street, making Ethan match her slower stride. She let the silence hang between them like the hovering clouds, waiting to see if his words would drown her in more doubt.

  “I know it’s not my place to look after you. I don’t want you to think that’s what I’m doing.”

  AJ stopped at a window to peer into a vintage furniture store. She focused on the small ornate globe sitting atop a scarred wooden pedestal. Ethan’s face reflected in the glass. He appeared ready to say something, and, not wanting to hear it, she walk
ed on.

  She waited until they passed a few more stores, then gave him a break. “So tell me about, what is it, a thief?”

  “I handle security for some affluent residential properties and there has been concern about some thefts in the area. They aren’t your everyday robberies. They appear to be more organized, going after the more high-end items.”

  AJ gave him a wry smile. “Isn’t your security supposed to prevent thefts from happening?”

  Ethan smiled back at her. The worry lines above his brows disappeared. “The thefts weren’t at the homes I secure.”

  “Ah.” AJ resumed her window shopping.

  “I do keep informed on possible threats to my clients and monitor the police reports.”

  “That makes sense. I knew you were in security, but I never knew how it worked. You know, what you really do all day.”

  “Well, there is more to it than sitting around waiting for an alarm to go off.” Ethan steered her across the street, where there were more stores for her to look at.

  AJ didn’t miss the fact that, although she appeared to be leading Ethan, he was the one directing their walk, leading her toward the stores and away from the residential sections. Neither was it lost on her that Ethan always knew where to be, anticipating a person’s needs. She had first noticed it while they were antiquing, and he mastered it with a subtlety she was sure was lost on most people. His knack for observation explained why he was in security, or maybe his job resulted in his keen senses. She assumed he was successful in his work, but it occurred to her she didn’t know him any better than she knew Finn.

  “I’m not the police,” Ethan said. “I don’t catch criminals, but when I hear of things like this happening, I do keep a watch out for possible suspects, in case they try to get close to my clients. Or my friends.”

  AJ searched his face for deception but saw only the stamp of deep worry lines and the clarity of meaning, and the look meant more to her than his words. “And you believe Finn Murphy fits the bill as a possible suspect.”

  “He’s new in town, and he has the means to leave quickly, under the radar.”

  “Because of his ship.”

  “Yes.” Ethan came to a stop in front of the Baywood Herald.

  “But you don’t know for sure. No proof of any wrongdoing.”

  “No. But his arrival time matches, and he doesn’t seem to have any specific reason for being here.”

  “Baywood is a tourist location. Most people don’t have a reason to be here other than that.” AJ kept the hope out of her voice. Stay neutral and focus on the facts. She was a reporter, after all.

  “That’s true.” Ethan paused, searching for the right words. “It’s the timing. Do you know why he’s here, AJ? Did he give any good reason, other than just passing through?”

  AJ stepped back, pulling her arms around her. This was too much. It couldn’t be true. He was not a thief. She turned to look around, not focusing on any one thing. The rain returned, a light drizzle, almost imperceptible, but she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, giving her shelter and privacy from Ethan’s penetrating gaze. She needed time, but all she could see was last evening, lying warm and safe in Finn’s embrace. Could she have been that wrong about him?

  She looked past the brim of her hood, where Ethan waited for her. Sometimes she wanted to knock the quiet patience right off his face, but this wasn’t his fault. He was trying to be helpful and was concerned for her safety. She had to give his worry some credence.

  “You’re right, Ethan. I don’t know anything about him. He hasn’t told me why he’s here, other than visiting.” AJ squeezed his hand. “Thank you for being such a good friend. I know you’re trying to look out for me, and I’ll take what you’ve said to heart. There are more questions here than answers, there’s no arguing that.”

  She could just as easily have been speaking of Ethan, who never said why he picked Baywood of all places. There were larger cities for a security firm to set up shop, and it never occurred to her to perform a little research on him. All it took was some time with Google. She surprised them both by leaning in and planting a firm kiss on his cheek. She squeezed his hand again. “I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it.” She left him standing on the street, staring at the closed door of the Herald.

  37

  AJ stared at the monitor. She had been staring at it for the last hour, unable to concentrate. Any minor amount of work she had accomplished had been rote, mundane. She kept getting pulled back to the same questions, the same person. She couldn’t avoid it any longer and found she didn’t want to. He had asked what she was doing this afternoon. It should be enough of an invitation. She should have asked for his number.

  She shut down her computer, grabbed her bag, and looked around the office. No one paid any attention to her—too busy with their own articles. Samuel was off on one of his advertising campaigns or searching for a breaking story. AJ loved this place and couldn’t picture working anywhere else. Just not today.

  Her drive to the inn was quick. It was a comfortable commute, and she imagined returning home at the end of the day to sit on a porch of her own while she looked out to sea. It wouldn’t be like the people in her articles. Obsessed individuals who spent their long days and nights looking out at this same body of water, waiting for something or someone to appear. She wouldn’t be waiting for anyone. She would be able to enjoy the peace it offered.

  AJ’s nerves jangled as she pulled to a stop, hoping she hadn’t made a mistake by returning and that he would be happy to see her. Leaving her bag in the car, she tucked her keys into her pants. She brushed back her hair, trying to keep the light wind from blowing it across her face, unsure of her decision to return, until she saw the ship.

  Finn was on deck and appeared to be working on the sails, removing the rigging that bound the sails to the masts. He could be performing routine maintenance—or preparing to leave. She wouldn’t know the difference. He paused in his task to stare out at the ocean, and she wondered if he was daydreaming. She hoped, with some embarrassment, that he had been thinking of her.

  When she’d spied on him long enough, AJ raced to the dock, this time welcoming the tingling sensation, the anticipation of his greeting. When she neared the gangplank, she could no longer see him, but she could hear him working. It sounded like he was whistling, but it might have been the wind.

  “Permission to come aboard.”

  Adam didn’t return to the office after meeting with Finn. Most of the alcohol had worn off, but he wasn’t yet a hundred percent. Joyce would know something was wrong, and he didn’t want to have to conjure up another lie. Not today. So he drove for a while, no destination in mind, until an urgent need to go home flooded through him. He needed to be with his family.

  Disappointment greeted him when he opened the door. The silence in the house confirmed no one was home. He set down his case and keys and, like a robot returning to its charging station, made his way to the study, pushing off his shoes and falling into the welcoming arms of his recliner. He pulled the comforter around him. The clean scent made him smile. Madelyn must have washed it.

  The end had been so close. He pictured his hands around his prize. Could see the moment when Finn gave him the last envelope that would see Adam clear. He swore an oath that he would never put his family in this jeopardy again. Not on his watch.

  But the last piece evaded him. And though he knew he should come clean to Madelyn, his pride held fast, blocking any logical thought. The more he ran through it, the more he knew he was still in the game. Suddenly, the safety of his study became a prison. Instead of being comforted by his surroundings, his home became a glaring beacon for everything Adam could lose.

  A slow panic rose through him, and sweat covered his body with a soft sheen, dampening his shirt. The last time he felt this sensation was when he fretted over the bar exam. He had more at stake now, and that alone flamed the fear, like a virus feeding on its host. It pushed him to a decision. There
was one final risk he had to take. An irrational idea—a horrible notion— but it was the only solution.

  “Permission to come aboard.”

  Finn heard the words, but it could have been a hallucination. She had been on his mind after all. Perhaps it was the wind. He dropped the ropes he had been working on, checked the gangway, and found her looking at him, a cautious smile on her face. He returned his own broader smile, warm and welcoming.

  “Aye, a sight for sore eyes. Someone to take me away from the misery of my work,” Finn said.

  “I wasn’t sure if I should come back so soon.” AJ roamed the deck, crossing to where Finn had been working on the sails. “You mentioned you had no plans for this afternoon.” Her fingers played across the canvas.

  “And I’m glad you did.” He had hoped she would stop by, knowing she shouldn’t. He’d struggled with his own desire to see her again and kept busy with work to stop himself from seeking her out if she didn’t come back on her own.

  Finn sat next to the rigging. He turned his face to hers with the idea of showing her how it worked. Before he could speak, her fingers, light as air, brushed against his cheek, and she leaned down to place a soft, warm kiss against his lips. A sense of urgency ran through him.

  He fell into her gaze. She ran her hand over his cheek again, a light touch on his hair. Surprising him by taking the initiative, she leaned in to place her lips on his once more, this time more forcibly. All thought vanished. He pulled her to him, searching for her tongue already playing at his lips.

  He swept her up and carried her below, enjoying her throaty laughter. This time she held him tighter, planting warm kisses along his neck as he tried to make his way downstairs without dropping her, and for a second, he pictured taking her right there on the stairs.

  AJ wiggled out of his arms as soon as they entered the cabin. She peeled off her sweater, flung it across the room, then followed with her blouse, the pants, and the rest. Stark naked on the bed, she inched her way toward the carved headboard, that wicked smile on her face.