Without Proof

by Janet Sketchley

  After the service, Michael and Aunt Bay introduced Amy to more of their friends. Amy’s head was crammed full of names by the time they reached the door. Pastor Verrall squeezed her hand. “You are welcome here, Amy.”

  “Thank you.”

  Aunt Bay stepped closer to her. “Amy gave her heart to the Lord this week, Pastor. Wednesday night, when the Warners were here to speak.”

  “Then welcome not only to our meeting today, but to the family.” His voice radiated with the same excitement that lit his face. “I’d love to meet with you and hear your story. When you’re ready, of course.”

  The way he backed off… had she flinched? Amy’s stomach tightened. She believed God accepted her. Would she ever be able to trust church people in general?

  Aunt Bay jumped into the gap. “Amy lives with us. When she’s ready, you can come for tea.”

  “And homemade brown bread?” He rubbed his stomach.

  Aunt Bay’s smile had a distinct air of satisfaction. “Of course.”

  Pastor Verrall reached for Michael’s hand. “You don’t look so well, my friend. Just tired from yesterday, or do we need to talk?”

  “I’ll be okay, thanks.”

  “I’ll pray to that end. Take it easy today. You’ve earned it.”

  The wind had a definite bite as they walked to the SUV. Aunt Bay put her arm around Amy. “I’m glad you came with us. Now let’s get this tired man home.”

  Home… what would they find there? After the phone call, the letter, and the mutilated doll, Amy’s enemies had done nothing on Saturday. They wouldn’t just stop. What would come next?

  Chapter 27

  Michael insisted on being the first to approach the house, the first to enter. Amy didn’t argue. If there was anything terrible to be found, she’d see it anyway, but she was not in a hurry.

  The alarm beeped when he opened the door. Good — no one had been inside to set it off or somehow disarm it. Amy glanced into the shrubbery on each side of the doorstep as she passed. No dolls or other warning signs.

  They did a full walk-through of the house and found nothing out of place. Amy dropped her purse in her room but kept her phone, just in case. She kept Del’s security device, too.

  How long would it take his team to wrap this up? They knew their targets. The need for a valid chain of evidence made perfect sense from a legal standpoint, but as a potential victim, Amy wished they could arrest first and worry about proof later.

  She met Michael coming up the stairs eating a banana. He saluted with it. “Lunch. Then back to bed as ordered.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Sleep well. Yesterday was a long day.”

  He mumbled something about the night being longer.

  Amy took the remaining stairs slowly. Could he really mean to preserve her as a living memorial to his best friend? Was there help for something like that, or would she have to leave here — leave him — to find a full life? Which would hurt more in the long run?

  In the kitchen, the message light flashed on the phone. Amy picked up the handset. Michael must have checked it and left it for her or Aunt Bay. Caller ID settled that question. Neal Williamson.

  He’d phoned an hour ago, inviting her to lunch. Amy hit the call-back button. When he answered, she said, “Neal? It’s Amy. I’m sorry I missed you this morning. We were at church.” Would that be an issue for him? They hadn’t talked about faith.

  “How was yesterday?”

  “The open house went well. Each year it attracts more buyers, and it’s a great launch for the Christmas sales season.”

  “Good… listen, do you have some free time today? I could pick you up. We could do some sightseeing. Have dinner together?”

  Would this flip Michael out? Especially since Neal already wanted to take her back to Saskatchewan? Amy stood taller. It didn’t matter. Neal was her father, and she wanted to see him. Maybe she needed to take a few more of these intentional steps outside Michael’s boundaries. For her own sake, and also for his. Could it help him see her as no longer tied to Gilles?

  She walked to the window and looked out over the lawn. The day was overcast, but not cold. Fine for traipsing around tourist sites. “I’d like that. What time works for you?”

  They made their plans and ended the call.

  Amy started putting together a salad. She and Aunt Bay had time for lunch and a quick rest before Neal arrived.

  She was waiting by the door with her purse, camera and cane when his car turned into the driveway. Amy slipped out with a quiet goodbye to Aunt Bay while Michael slept.

  Neal greeted her with a smile. “I haven’t seen Peggy’s Cove yet and they say it’s a must. Shall we start there and then head back to the city?”

  “Sure. I feel bad about you having to drive all this way later to bring me home.”

  “For the chance to spend time with my daughter? Don’t be silly.”

  The road curved nearer to, then away from St. Margaret’s Bay. Neal had a light rock station playing on the satellite radio, and he kept up an easy conversation as he drove. He turned onto the narrow road leading to their destination. “Barren, isn’t it? The rocks are something else.”

  Huge, rounded boulders of granite dotted the landscape. Amy nodded. “Can you imagine the glaciers moving them around like pebbles?”

  Neal parked, and they wandered toward the lighthouse. Amy pointed out the profiles of fishermen carved into the rock wall. “Isn’t that amazing? They say it took ten years to sculpt. The artist was a painter, too. Michael loves his work.”

  Neal bought them each a cone of artisan ice cream. “Not much here but rocks, is there? And the lighthouse.”

  “And the restaurant and gift shops. People like to climb on the rocks and watch the waves. I can’t go very far — the different elevations mess with my hip, but I’m happy to sit and watch you explore.”

  “Another time. Today I don’t want to miss a minute with you.” Neal led the way to an empty bench facing the ocean. “So tell me about Amy. We’ve talked about your mom, and a bit about your childhood, but who are you now?”

  Amy’s camera lay in her lap. She wound the strap around her index finger. “I’m pretty boring. I worked my way through university to save as much as I could of Mom’s life insurance as a safety net, then started a career at a bank in Ottawa.” Her fingers stilled, and she stared at the waves’ hypnotic motion. “My one, wildly spontaneous act was to chuck it all and move here to marry Gilles. He died, and here I am.”

  She turned to Neal. “I don’t mean that to sound like self-pity. I stayed because Michael and his aunt supported me when I needed it, and I kind of — grew into their family and into a job at the gallery.”

  Neal’s eyes probed hers. “And you’re happy?”

  Amy looked at her hands. “I’ve been happy, until this craziness started with the sabotage rumours and threats. An accident’s easier to accept than attempted murder. But I love working at the gallery.”

  “And you love Michael.”

  She nodded, still looking down.

  Neal’s arm slid around her shoulders. Amy nestled into his embrace and absorbed the wonder of having a dad after all these years — one who cared about her.

  Adopted by God… accepted by her birth father… pining for a man she couldn’t have. But held, in the middle of the pain. She tried to keep her voice steady. “I guess you’ve learned more about me than you wanted to know.”

  “I wish I could have been there for you.” Neal released her, but stayed near enough to touch.

  Amy fidgeted with the camera in her lap. “I was so hurt by what you said after the accident, but I’m glad you didn’t offer me a place to stay then. This time at the gallery has been precious. Even if I do end up leaving.”

  “You’re welcome to live with me as long as you like. I, um, gather you don’t think Michael returns your feelings. He’s very protective. Too much like an older brother?”

  “Something like that.”

  A seagull
dove and snatched something from the rocks, then wheeled away with its prize.

  “You said if you do end up leaving… you still think you’re safer here for now?”

  The hypnotic motion of the waves lulled Amy back to a place of calm. “I don’t know. That’s what the investigator says. And I’m not ready to give up on Michael yet. Plus, his aunt… I’m a brand new Christian, and she’s kind of a mentor to me.”

  “Absence might make the heart grow fonder.”

  Or tip Michael clear over the edge. What if he started stalking her? “Knowing I have a safe place to hide is a big help. And I do want to visit you. For now, I think I should stay put.”

  “I’m not happy about it, but I have no right to push.” Neal stood. “Shall we walk? Maybe ice cream wasn’t a good idea with this breeze.”

  “But it was tasty.”

  They meandered through a few gift shops, and made the trek to the lighthouse. Amy watched a group of teens clambering up the granite slopes, leaping across crevices. She and Gilles had done the same, before the accident that changed everything.

  When they returned to the car, Amy eased herself into the passenger seat, trying not to wince.

  Neal must have noticed the hitch in her breathing. “Too much?”

  “I shouldn’t have left my cane in here. Yesterday was a long day on my feet.”

  “Unfortunately, this rental didn’t come with heated seats.”

  “Right now that would be an amazing luxury.”

  The car nosed down the narrow lane to the main road. Neal glanced at Amy. “Give me directions back to the city? Or should I use the GPS?”

  “Turn right, and we’ll go a different way than we came. Not that the scenery’s much different. Can you imagine being out here when the fog rolls in? It’s like another planet.”

  “It’s beautiful today.”

  “In good weather, sunrises and sunsets are spectacular. We’ve come a few times to take pictures.”

  The drive gave Amy’s hip time to settle down. Directing Neal into the city outskirts, she said, “I’m okay for more walking. I’ll be smart and use the cane. Is there anything special you’d like to see?”

  “I explored Point Pleasant yesterday afternoon, and the Maritime Museum.”

  “How about the Citadel? We can park on the grounds and not have to climb the hill.” As they wove their way toward the downtown core, she pointed out her favourite cheesecake spot. “For next time.”

  Neal chuckled. “Works for me. And there will be a next time, whether it’s business or a holiday. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Half way through touring the Citadel, Amy ducked into the washroom and used tap water cupped in one hand to wash down some pain medicine. The site wasn’t large, but by the time they finished, she was limping.

  The lines around Neal’s mouth deepened. “Note to self. My daughter is not a quitter. Admirable, but for now let’s stop. Where’s a good spot to eat? I’d like to take you somewhere nice. Somewhere we won’t be rushed and where it’s quiet enough to talk.”

  Amy climbed into the car, gritting her teeth until her hip muscles relaxed. “There’s a spot near the water where Gilles and I went a few times. It shouldn’t be too crowded on a Sunday night.”

  Her phone buzzed. Michael, saying she’d been out long enough? Amy checked the message anyway.

  Troy. Call me?

  She told Neal which direction to take and tapped a quick reply. Later tonight?

  Troy acknowledged, and Amy put her phone away.

  Conversation stayed light over their meal, touching on memories, hopes and what they liked or disliked. When prodded, Neal talked about his time in professional hockey and about building a new career in his thirties. Would that be Amy, too, leaving the gallery work she loved and starting over in her mid-twenties? Going back to banking felt like a sentence instead of a career, now that she’d experienced the art world. Yet if Michael really was ill — or misguided — and couldn’t or wouldn’t be helped, how long before she gave up? Showed her father she was a quitter after all?

  Amy declined dessert, and Neal did the same. “I need to take you home before your house mates think I’ve abducted you.”

  “This has been such a good day.” Amy picked up her purse and retrieved her cane. “To think I almost refused to meet you.”

  Neal’s smile held a touch of sadness. “Only after I threatened legal action.” He paid for their meal and escorted Amy from the restaurant, one hand resting gently against her back.

  Tension crept into Amy’s muscles on the drive home. In anticipation of a jealous response from Michael, or regrouping to face the nameless, escalating threats?

  Neal didn’t speed, and Amy didn’t mind. Maybe neither of them wanted this day to end.

  When they arrived at the gallery, the sight of Emilie’s car added to Amy’s growing sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was a good thing. In host mode, Michael was less likely to complain about Amy being out.

  She turned to Neal. “Come in for coffee?”

  He squeezed her hand. “You’re tired, and they may be, too, after yesterday. I’ll walk you to the door and say hello.”

  “Thank you for everything. Including the listening ear.”

  “I think that’s part of the standard job description for fathers. So I count it a privilege. We’ll keep talking once I’m home, I hope.”

  “Me, too. But I’ll try to stay upbeat.”

  Neal stopped, one hand opening the door, and held her gaze. “If he makes you cry, I’ll have to come back and straighten him out.”

  Amy bit back a giggle that could too easily turn to tears. “I may take you up on that.”

  Opening the door, Amy braced herself against a wave of high-pitched laughter. “Gilles’ younger sister,” she whispered to Neal. “She has a thing for Michael.”

  His brows lowered. “Competition?”

  “Hardly.” Amy grinned. “He didn’t realize until I told him, and now he doesn’t know how to discourage her.”

  Michael came into the entryway, looking more rested than he had before but still ragged around the edges. “How was your day?”

  Behind him, Emilie’s laugh cut off, as if she’d just noticed he left the room. “Michael?” She followed him into the open area, her eyes narrowing when they met Amy’s.

  Amy smiled. “Emilie Renaud, Neal Williamson. Emilie, Neal’s my father.”

  “You have a father?” The girl’s voice came out in a squeak.

  Michael lifted an eyebrow. “Is it that unusual?”

  “No, but—”

  Aunt Bay came down the stairs, and Michael turned. “I wondered where you’d gone.” From his accusing undertone, a private visit with Emilie had not been his choice for the evening.

  Amy shared a look with the older woman and tried not to smirk.

  “Did you two have a good visit? And Neal, do you have time for a drink?” Aunt Bay crossed the open space toward them.

  “No, thank you, for the drink. But it’s been a fantastic day. Everything fine here?”

  Amy interpreted his question to mean “no more threats?”

  Aunt Bay’s lips tightened, and she glanced at Michael.

  Before either of them could speak, Emilie jumped in. “If you’re Amy’s father, did you know someone’s threatening her? Michael didn’t want to tell her about the note we found last night.” Emilie put a hand to her mouth, eyes round, as if she’d accidentally said too much.

  Neal stepped nearer to Amy and slid a protective arm around her shoulders. “Show me.”

  Frowning, Michael shook his head. “The police took it. Amy, I wasn’t trying to hide this from you. I wanted to wait until morning, not ruin another night’s sleep.”

  Emilie seemed oblivious to his glare. “It was in a little envelope, like you get at the florist’s. ‘Leave now, while you still can.’” She delivered the line in a spooky tone, like something from a bad horror movie.

  Her childish delight sent a shiver throug
h Amy. Neal pulled her closer. “Are you sure you won’t come home with me?”

  Why stay? Amy had no future with Michael. It would tear her heart out to leave him and Aunt Bay, but hearts healed. She’d have her father, and God. She could start over. Go back into banking if she had to, or maybe find another gallery to work in. Del wanted to keep them all together for protection, but how would Amy’s nameless enemies even find her with Neal?

  Amy opened her mouth to agree. A glint in Emilie’s eyes stopped her. If a jealous university student took this much satisfaction in twisting these threats to scare off a perceived rival, how much more would the person who’d sent them feel? Amy locked eyes with Emilie. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m staying.”

  Emilie pouted and clutched Michael’s arm. “If you really cared about Amy’s safety, you’d make her go.”

  Aunt Bay snorted. “Clearly you’ve never tried to make Amy do anything.”

  Michael disengaged his arm. “It’s better if she stays. Neal, I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  Neal nodded. “I leave on Tuesday. If we don’t talk before then, thank you both for your hospitality. Michael, do you have a minute now?”

  Caution flitted across Michael’s face, but he stepped away from Emilie with the speed of a child at the recess bell. Behind him, she frowned.

  Neal turned to the door. “Let’s step outside.”

  Michael shot a glance at Amy. She made an “I don’t know” face and said goodbye to Neal. “Phone me before you go?”

  He touched her hand. “Of course. Take care of yourself.”

  “You, too.” Amy watched the two men step outside and close the door.

  She turned to find Emilie watching her. The girl tipped her head toward the door. “What’s that about?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “He wants to know you’ll be safe.” Aunt Bay pulled Amy into a hug. “I’m glad you had a good day. It looks like it nearly killed you.”

  “I’m definitely sore. Say goodnight to Michael? There’s a hot bath calling me.”