by Jan Fields
“OK, you get out of those wet things and take a hot shower,” he said. “I’ll find you something dry to put on. It won’t be stylish, but I should be able to manage something warm. Then we’ll fill you with warm tea, and we can wait together until the rain stops.”
“Oh Ian,” Annie said. “Not much of a homecoming, is it?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d like better than rescuing you from the rain,” Ian said with a smile. “Now, out of those wet clothes.”
He closed the door, and Annie quickly took off her sky blue linen pants, which had grown so wet they stuck to her legs like skin. And then she removed her cute sleeveless cotton sweater and matching cardigan, which had sagged from the water until the neckline of the sleeveless sweater was almost indecent and the sleeves of the cardigan nearly covered her hands.
Annie looked sadly at the pants, hoping they weren’t ruined. She piled her clothes loosely in the sink and stepped into the shower. She hadn’t realized how frozen she was until the hot water seemed to pound heat through her skin. It was wonderful.
At one point, Annie heard a soft rap at the bathroom door. Ian called out that he was slipping a change of clothes on the counter inside the door. When Annie finally felt like her body temperature must be close to human again, she shut off the water and pulled open the shower door. Annie dried off quickly and picked up the clothes. The T-shirt was a faded blue gray with a whale screen-printed on the front. She recognized it as one she’d seen Ian wear to a summer picnic on the Town Square. She slipped it over her head, and it engulfed her.
The sweatpants folded under the shirt were much smaller and clearly had belonged to a woman. They were a little long but otherwise fit well. Annie thought they must have belonged to Ian’s wife, Arianna, and felt a little strange about wearing them. She slipped her feet into a too-large pair of warm socks and then ran her fingers through her hair to try to get it into some sort of order.
Finally, she tiptoed out of the bathroom and went looking for Ian. She found him in the kitchen, pouring hot water into tall mugs. “Perfect timing,” he said, “as usual.”
Annie laughed. “If I’d had perfect timing, I wouldn’t have been half-drowned by the rain.”
“But then, I wouldn’t have been greeted by my favorite dog sitter,” Ian said. “I hope Tartan didn’t give you any trouble.”
“No, of course not. I’m beginning to understand dog people,” Annie said. “Tartan is wonderful company.”
“He certainly makes it difficult to be gloomy,” Ian said as he handed Annie a mug and led her toward a chair. He sat near her and gently lifted a strand of hair away from her face.
“How was your trip?” Annie asked tentatively.
Ian sighed. “Sad and stressful. But my mother-in-law passed in her sleep. I think the whole family was in shock, even though she’d been so sick and so unhappy. You never know whether it’s OK to be a little relieved along with your sadness.”
“It sounds like a difficult few days,” Annie agreed.
“Being back with Arianna’s family was strange,” Ian said. “I was glad to see them, but I guess it made me realize how much I still miss her too.”
Annie nodded. “I know that feeling. I love Wayne’s relatives, and I try to see them when I’m in Texas, but it’s hard too.”
Ian reached out and put a hand over hers. “It’s nice to have someone who knows exactly how that feels.” He shook his head. “After Arianna died, it was like she’d been erased from history by some people. They never mentioned her, never brought up old memories.”
Annie nodded. “I suppose they didn’t know what to say.”
“I know,” he said. “And sometimes when people did say something, they said things that didn’t really help. They meant well, but it was just too much. That’s why I had to get away from Stony Point for a while right after Arianna died. In New York, all of the bustle and noise was a nice distraction.”
“I guess that was part of what made coming to Stony Point so appealing,” Annie agreed. “I had good memories here, but also, the town was full of people who saw me as Annie, not as Wayne’s widow.”
Ian nodded with understanding. For a few minutes after that, they each sipped their tea in silence, lost in thoughts of the past. It wasn’t an awkward silence though. It felt friendly and comforting to Annie.
Finally Ian looked over at her and smiled. “Thanks again for taking care of Tartan. And I spotted my mail on my desk, so thanks for picking that up as well.”
“Oh!” Annie said, hopping out of her chair. “I have one more note for you.”
She padded down the hall to the bathroom and pulled Nancy’s note from the pocket of her long cotton sweater. The envelope was soaked and floppy, and the handwriting on the outside was unreadable. She carried it back to the kitchen. “I’m afraid the rain seems to have ruined it.”
Ian took it from her. “What was it?”
“A note from Nancy Breaker, from across the street,” she said. “I expect she wants to put your house on the Garden Club’s parade of homes. I figure that’s what it’s about.”
“What does that entail?” he asked.
“I really don’t know,” she said. “I turned her down for Grey Gables, so I haven’t gotten all the details, but she can be very insistent. She even took photos of my house and made a mock-up of the brochure. So, good luck if you decide to say no.”
Ian lifted the envelope flap and gently slid out a waterlogged sheet of computer paper that tore when he tried to unfold it. Finally he laid it out on the table, and they peered at it. The general layout of the smears made Annie suspect it had looked much like the paper Nancy had shown her, but it had soaked together into a blurry mess of color-printer ink. “I guess I’ll have to call her,” he said with a shrug. Then he looked up at Annie and smiled. “So, tell me what you’ve been up to besides walking my dog. Any mysteries?”
Annie knew he was teasing her, and she was rewarded by a surprised look when she nodded. “Actually, yes. We have a missing lost love, a mysterious artist, and a tall, dark stranger in town.”
“Any kidnappings, break-ins, or threats of violence?” Ian asked.
“Nary a one.”
“Good,” Ian said. “I never know when it’s safe to leave you alone. So tell me about this mystery—and about exactly how much contact you’ve had with the tall, dark stranger.”
“An English stranger,” Annie said, “with an accent and all.”
Ian looked gloomy. “I don’t suppose he was really old or really ugly?”
“Only a few years older than you,” she said brightly. “And very handsome.”
“Swell.”
20
Annie laughed at Ian’s glum expression. “He’s here looking for a lost love,” she said. “I’m pretty sure the woman he is looking for is in Stony Point, but I found that out when I was looking for answers to a totally different mystery.”
Ian blinked. “Why are your mysteries always so complicated?”
“They’re more interesting that way,” Annie said. “But let me start at the beginning of each mystery, and I think it’ll make more sense.”
“OK,” Ian said carefully. “Start with the one that involves the stranger.”
“It’s better if I start with the other mystery,” Annie said. “Someone has been leaving little gifts all over town. They’re lovely little cats made with a craft technique called needle felting.”
“What’s that? Is it like knitting?” Ian asked. Annie knew knitting was something Ian understood since Mary Beth had let out his secret some months before—Ian Butler could knit! He and his brother, Todd, had been taught by their mother when they were boys.
“It’s a technique that uses wool roving, which is the fluffy stuff that yarn is made from,” Annie said. “But you use a needle to tangle the fibers into a kind of felt. At any rate, the little cats are lovely. And they’ve appeared in the library, A Stitch in Time, the diner, the church, the post office, and my front porch.
”
“Your porch?” Ian echoed.
“Yes. Apparently the artist knew Gram,” Annie said. “Anyway, the artist leaves thank-you cards with the gifts, and with a little help, we eventually recognized Candace Caine’s handwriting.”
“Should I know who that is?” Ian asked, looking more confused than ever.
“No, though it would certainly be helpful if you did,” Annie said. “She’s a children’s picture-book author and illustrator who used to live in England but now lives in Stony Point. She apparently has changed her name, but I don’t know what name she’s going by. I thought it might be Nancy, but her handwriting doesn’t look anything like Candice’s, and Nancy doesn’t really like kids.”
“You know that this Candace Caine likes children?” Ian asked weakly. “How do you know that?”
“Well, I assume most picture-book authors probably like kids,” Annie said. “But in this case, I know it for sure because Adam Smithfield said she does.”
“And he is?”
“Her publisher and the tall, dark stranger,” Annie said. “He’s looking for her and seems to be in love with her. I’m not totally sure I believe him. I think I do, but I believed people in the past and then learned they were lying. Gram was always so much better at judging character. I tend to believe everyone.”
“I know,” Ian said, putting a hand over Annie’s. “It’s one of your more endearing and terrifying traits.”
“Terrifying?”
“You must admit—it’s gotten you into a lot of trouble in the past. I sometimes worry about you.”
Annie nodded. That was true enough. “Anyway, Adam came to Stony Point looking for Candace, and now I’m pretty sure Candace really is here. But I don’t know exactly where, or what name she is using. And I don’t know if I should tell Adam what I do know.”
“You and the tall, dark stranger are on a first-name basis?” Ian asked.
“He’s in love with Candace,” Annie reminded him. He didn’t look all that comforted. “At any rate, Candace is the person who gave Boots to Gram.”
Ian looked at her in shock. “Oh! I saw her.”
Annie felt a surge of excitement. “You did?”
Ian nodded. “Arianna and I were going to the Friends of St. Francis to look for a pet. We weren’t sure whether we wanted a dog or a cat.” He chuckled. “In fact, Arianna wasn’t convinced we needed a pet at all since we were both so busy. She thought that if we had a pet, it should be a cat since they’re more independent, but I’ve always been a dog person. In the end, we decided to hold off.” His smile faded a little with the memory.
“But you saw Gram?” Annie asked gently.
“Yes, with a little tiny woman,” Ian said. “I know Betsy introduced us, but the poor woman looked like she was going to bolt and run. I don’t know that I’d ever met anyone so shy.”
Something about Ian’s description tickled Annie’s memory. “What was her name?” Annie asked.
Ian shook his head. “I honestly don’t remember. I mostly remember how scared she looked.”
“Did she seem scared of anyone in particular?” Annie asked.
He shook his head. “I remember wondering if she might be an agoraphobic, and thought maybe Betsy had coaxed her out into public, but I guess that wasn’t it as I’ve seen her a few times since.”
“Recently?” Annie asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “She’s easy to overlook, like she blends in with the world around her.”
Annie nodded. Grace Emory had said something a lot like that about shy women going unnoticed. Annie wondered if Candace had always been so shy, or if Adam really had given her a good reason to be afraid. Was he more than the brokenhearted suitor that he appeared to be?
“So, now you’re up to date on our two mysteries, that are really just one mystery. Candace Caine ran away from London and hid out here in Stony Point. She knew Gram. And now she’s giving gifts to the community,” Annie said. “Only I don’t know who she is.”
“Are you sure it’s fair to track her down?” Ian said. “If that shy woman who was with Betsy is this Candace Caine, she really wouldn’t want the attention of the whole community on her. I’m sure of that.”
“No matter what I do, I’m affecting her life,” Annie said. “If I let Adam give up and leave, how do I know that’s what she’d want? If I tell him flat out that she’s here and giving out cat sculptures, will that hurt her? I think all I can do is find her and ask her—if I can figure out who she is.”
“Well, if you need my help, let me know,” he said, and then he nodded toward the window. “In the meanwhile, it looks like it has stopped raining, so I need to go out and collect my luggage. Do you want to wait here?”
“No, I think I’ll head home. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed you. You’re great to bounce ideas off.”
After Annie had collected her wet clothes in a bag, she slipped her feet into her slightly squishy shoes and gave Tartan a last pat goodbye. Tartan wagged his tail for her, but Annie noticed he kept his eye on Ian the whole time.
“I’ll return your shirt,” Annie said, “and these pants.”
“They belong to Todd’s wife, Becky,” Ian said. “I ended up with them after an unfortunate muddy-dog incident when they were visiting. I’m not certain she wants them back.”
“Becky?” Annie said. “I thought her name was Elizabeth.”
“It’s actually Rebecca Elizabeth,” Ian said. “Only family gets to call her Becky. Well, family, long-term friends, and whomever we forget and speak in front of.” He laughed. “She thinks it’s too cutesy, but I think she’s doomed to be Becky forever in our minds.”
Annie smiled. “I remember wishing my name was something more exotic or elegant when I was a girl. Alice and I even made up movie-star names for ourselves once.”
Ian’s face lit up with amusement and curiosity. “And what names were those?”
“I was Anastasia Louisa Spencer,” Annie said, “and she was Desire Destiny Desmond.”
Ian burst out laughing. “Alice didn’t even like her last name?”
“She was really into alliteration,” Annie said with a giggle.
“Well, thanks again for your help, Anastasia Louisa,” Ian said. “Send my regards to Triple D.”
“Oh, no,” Annie said. “You better not let Alice hear you call her that. She’ll never speak to either of us again!”
The sun was setting on the short drive back to Grey Gables. Annie knew how quickly sunset turned into night in Maine and hoped she made it inside before dark. She had been chilled enough for one day. As she drove, Annie went back and forth in her own mind about what she should do next. She had met two people who remembered Candace, but only vaguely. Mary Beth felt there was something familiar about the way Candace wrote her letter “I.” Since she wasn’t the only one involved in the search, she had to face the fact that it might not be up to her to put an end to it either.
After she pulled into her drive and climbed out of the Malibu, Annie heard someone shout her name. She turned to see someone walking up the driveway. Already the evening shadows made the figure hard to see, but Annie had easily recognized Alice’s voice.
“You left without me,” Alice scolded.
“I’m sorry,” Annie said. “You weren’t home when I got ready to go. I was too fidgety to wait.”
“That’s fine,” Alice said. “I got a call from the husband of one of my Princessa jewelry clients. He’d forgotten his anniversary and was desperate for a necklace to give as a gift so his wife wouldn’t know. I drove over to his office to let him pick from among my samples.”
“Oh—sneaky,” Annie said.
“It’s all in the name of marital harmony,” Alice said. “Plus, I hate to turn down a sale. He ended up buying a necklace, ring, and earrings set.”
“Sounds like your errand was more productive than mine,” Annie said.
“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Alice said, her eyes sweeping over A
nnie’s outfit. “And tell me where you’ve been shopping.”
“Come on in, and I’ll tell you all about it,” Annie said. “Have you had supper?”
Alice shook her head. “I was going to make a sandwich and soup after I talked to you.”
“I have some great chowder I can warm up,” Annie said. “It was delicious the first time, so I know it’ll be even better now. We can have it with grilled-cheese sandwiches, if you don’t mind putting the sandwiches together while I warm up the soup. You know how it is with chowder, you have to stir it constantly. How does that sound?”
“Marvelous.”
As they walked through the door, Boots trotted over, though she quickly snubbed Annie after a sniff. “You’ll be happy to know I’m done with dog duty,” she told the cat.
“Oh, is Ian home?” Alice asked.
Annie nodded. “He came back just as Tartan and I were caught in that downpour. So he has now seen me looking like a drowned rat. He insisted I come inside and drip all over his floors. And then he insisted I change into dry clothes.”
“That outfit is definitely a new look for you,” Alice said. “It’s nice to see you and Ian are so comfortable with each other.
“This is not a look I want to cultivate,” Annie said. “It is cozy and a lot more comfortable than sodden linen and cotton. I guess if Ian could survive seeing me wringing wet, he probably wasn’t all that horrified by the baggy, borrowed clothes.” She held up the bag of wet clothes to prove her point. “I need to get the sweaters in the washer. The pants will have to go to the dry cleaners while I hope for the best. It’s not like I shouldn’t have known better than to wear linen while dog walking.”
“So, did you find out anything interesting at the vet?” Alice asked as she idly watched Annie put the sweaters in the washer.
“Dr. Martin didn’t have time to talk to me,” Annie said. “Though she’s supposed to call tonight, assuming I haven’t already missed her call. Still, I did talk to Nancy Breaker.”