by Lois Richer
“If we bring people in here, that will change. I can understand why they live here. The beauty stimulates your creative genes.”
“Are you an artist, too?” He somehow couldn’t imagine her spattered in paint.
“My grandfather was a goldsmith, my grandmother a jewelry designer. They taught me. I’d like to get back to it one of these days.”
Gold. Yeah, that fit her perfectly.
“I see you have a tour program proposed,” Jason said. “Some of the guild members would certainly go for that. Why not ask for volunteers to help with the extravaganza thing? That way you’d get to know them sooner.”
“Yes, I’d thought of that.” Her eyes glittered like black onyx. “This is going to be a very exciting time in Serenity Bay, Jason. I can’t wait to see what happens.”
“Neither can I.” He cleared his throat.
“But?” She frowned.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me in the loop about what you’re doing. The council has several ideas of their own. We don’t want to overlap.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you informed of whatever’s happening. Thanks for your support.” In a flash she gathered her papers and replaced them in her briefcase.
Five minutes later Piper Langley was walking down the pier toward a small red compact that sat in the parking lot.
Jason waited until he saw her taillights disappear, then he picked up the phone.
“Hey, Ida. How are you?” He chuckled at the growl from the town’s secretary. Ida’s bark was always worse than her bite. “Yes, I do know you’re off work today. I just want to ask you something. Our new economic development officer is officially on the job. Can you let me know if she asks you for anything special?”
“Asks me for something? Like what?” Ida Cranbrook never skirted an issue. She claimed she was too old for that. “Pens? Paper?”
“You know what I mean. I just want to make sure she and I are on the same channel,” he muttered. “We haven’t got much of a budget. I don’t want to see it squandered.”
“You think she’ll do that? A woman with her reputation?”
“Well—”
“You don’t have to spell it out. I get it, Jason. You want to approve everything before she does it.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.” Silence. Jason sighed. “I just need to know. Okay? Satisfied?”
“Not nearly.” She cackled at her own joke. “You’re the boss, Jason. If you want me to spy on the girl and give you daily reports, I suppose I’ll have to do it. But I won’t like it.”
“I’m not asking you to spy on her.”
“Ha!” Ida Cranbrook was no fool.
“Never mind. Sorry I bothered you, Ida. Especially on your day off.”
“Doesn’t matter a bit. Harold’s nodded off to sleep in the middle of one of those car races, anyway. I just started spicing up some ribs for dinner. You interested?”
Interested in Ida Cranbrook’s specially prepared, mouthwatering ribs? Was a fish interested in water?
“Just tell me when and where.” His stomach growled at the thought of those succulent bits of artery-clogging pleasure.
“Six o’clock. And bring the girl. From what I saw at the interview, she looks like she could use some meat on those bones. Besides, then we can all watch her, make sure she doesn’t pull a fast one on us.” Ida barked a laugh, then hung up.
In one weak moment he’d confided his past and the betrayal that had precipitated his leaving Expectations. Now Ida could read him like a book—which Jason found extremely disconcerting.
So was inviting Piper Langley to go with him to Ida’s. Piper of the iceberg-blue suit and immaculate makeup. He just couldn’t envision her dripping in barbecue sauce and grease. Seemed a little like casting pearls into the mud to him.
Good looks and nice clothes had nothing to do with the person inside. He’d learned not to judge by exteriors and he couldn’t afford to forget that lesson. Besides, he’d never yet met a person who didn’t love Ida’s ribs. Between Ida, Harold and himself, they should be able to find out more about the new owner of Cathcart House.
Jason drank the coffee he’d forgotten to pour for Piper wishing he’d told her straight up that he intended to be involved in every part of her plans.
Jason had compared her to a rose, but roses had thorns that could draw blood, cause pain. Fine. He could deal with that. But Serenity Bay’s development was his chance to put his mark on the world, and he wasn’t about to let anybody ruin that.
Jason had survived the shame of being duped by someone he trusted, had weathered whispers, mended broken relationships with each of his clients while he worked out his notice at Expectations and left a job he loved. He’d endured the sly looks at a wedding that should have been his by planning a new dream and praying for forgiveness while he struggled to trust God for a new plan for his future. He still wasn’t certain he was where God wanted him, though he prayed about it daily.
Putting Serenity Bay on the tourism map without input from the major developers he’d once worked with would show anybody who doubted him that he could still make it in the big leagues.
He’d been duped once. But nobody, including Piper Langley, was going to fool him into trusting wrongly again.
Chapter Three
“I’m glad you asked me to join you tonight. I’ve never met Ida Cranbrook. At least, I don’t think I have. I’m sure she wasn’t around when I lived here before.”
“She and Harold have only been here a little longer than me.”
Piper climbed from Jason’s truck and walked toward a cottage that looked like Hansel and Gretel’s gingerbread house. She sniffed the air.
“Oh, that aroma is marvelous. I love ribs.”
“You’ll like them even more after you taste Ida’s. She has this secret recipe. Every year more and more people try to copy it.”
“Maybe I could wheedle it from her for the good of the town. You know, ‘Come to Serenity Bay and sample Ida’s ribs.’ Something like that.” Piper smiled at Jason, liking the way his hair flopped across his forehead. He was so different from the corporate stiffs she usually worked with.
“Nobody has managed to get it out of her yet, so you’d have a coup if you did.” His fingers grazed her elbow as he directed her up the two steps to the front door.
“Hmm. I’ll try hard, then.”
“Ida’s also the sounding board for the entire community. She knows everything about everything. What she doesn’t know, she’ll find out.”
“Ah, an unimpeachable source. Good.”
He laughed, rapped the door twice, then opened it.
“We’re here,” he announced in a loud voice, then motioned for Piper to precede him inside.
A man emerged from the room beyond, ducking his head to walk beneath the low, exposed beams.
“Don’t call her,” he murmured, shaking his head as he beckoned them inside. “She’s at the crucial stage.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know, exactly, but she says it’s crucial.” He held out his hand, smiled at Piper. “I’m Harold Cranbrook, Ida’s husband. And you’re the lady who’s going to put the Bay on the map. Come on in.”
“Piper Langley.” She shook his hand. “And I hope you’re right.”
“Jason hasn’t steered us wrong yet.”
As far as she could tell, everybody liked Jason. That would make it easier to work for him. She hoped.
Piper glanced around. It was like walking into a doll’s house. Everything seemed so tiny. How did a man as large as Harold endure living among all this china, crystal and dolls?
“Ida’s out on the deck. Is it too chilly for us to join her?”
“Let’s go,” Piper agreed, relieved they’d be away from the fragile objects, at least for a little while. She eased left, leaving a wide gap between her leg and the tiny, blue china ladies perched atop a table, then blushed when Jason winked at her and followed suit on tiptoe.
“Hey there! I didn’t hear you arrive. Come on out.” Ida slid open the patio door, then wrapped her tiny arms around Jason in a hug. She did the same to Piper. “I’m glad you could come, Miss Langley. Welcome to Serenity Bay.”
“Thank you. It was sweet of you to invite me.”
“Jason told me you used to live here. We only moved here two and a half years ago, so I didn’t know your grandparents, but I’ve heard a lot about Sara and Gordon Young from the old-timers on the Bay.” She basted the ribs, pushed a fork against the meat, then shook her head and closed the lid. “People used to talk about how he’d sail her around the coves in that cute little sailboat. What’s it called—Shalimar, that’s it. Such an unusual name.” Ida glanced at Jason, raised one eyebrow.
“Papa said it sounded like a faraway place you’d escape to. That’s why he chose it.” Piper noticed some kind of undercurrent running between the mayor and his office helper. She decided to wait and see what it was about.
“Piper uses Shalimar to get to work.” Jason’s gaze remained on the sizzling barbecue.
“Only when it’s good weather,” she said.
“Like today. I heard you’ve been talking to the guild.” Ida glanced at Jason as if she knew something. “So has Piper given you her report yet?”
“What report?” Piper glanced back and forth, even checked Harold’s expression. “Did I miss something?”
“Jason here is a bit obsessive when it comes to business in the Bay. Scratch that. He’s a lot obsessive. Not that he doesn’t have a good reason. Betrayal by your best friend is never nice.” Ida patted his shoulder as if he were six. “If my hunch is right, and it is, he’ll want to know exactly what you did this afternoon.”
“But he already knows. I told him my plans this morning.” Piper accepted a seat on a wicker chair, then glanced at Jason. He was frowning at Ida. Piper didn’t blame him. Being betrayed by your best friend sounded horrible.
Maybe that’s why he’d come to Serenity Bay, to prove to the powers at Expectations that he could handle more than one aspect of development. Maybe he hoped his work here would push him up their career ladder faster. Please, not another Baron.
“I am not obsessive.”
“Ha!” The tiny woman sat down, crossed her arms over her thin chest. “You like to pretend you aren’t, but you’re totally obsessed by the Bay’s future.” She looked at Piper. “Controlling, too.”
“Stop badgering the boy, Ida. We elected him to be concerned about Serenity Bay. I’d say he’s doing his job perfectly.” Harold turned to Piper, lowering his voice. “They’re like two five-year-olds in a school yard. Best to change the subject. You got a boyfriend?”
Piper gulped. What ribs could be worth this?
“Don’t answer that. Harold fancies himself a matchmaker. You give him the least bit of information and he’ll go hunting up a beau for you.” Ida poked Jason’s leg. “You read those test results?”
“What tests? I go to the boat show in Toronto for two days and you’ve got people doing tests?”
“I do my job.” The older woman sniffed. “Public health said we had to have a water check. I got it done. No problem there.”
“Good.”
Ida stood and peeked under the barbecue lid, adjusted the heat.
“Ribs need a few more minutes,” she explained. She wiped her hands on a towel hanging on the front of the barbecue. “Water’s okay, but we do have a problem with some of the campsite facilities. He’s going to let you know.”
“Fine.” Jason switched subjects, but he didn’t meet her stare. “Piper thought someone was working up on Lookout Point. Know anything about that, Ida?”
“Nope. But the telephone people visit it in the spring and the fall. Could be them.” She turned to Piper. “What was Serenity Bay like when you used to come here?”
“Pretty much the same. Maybe there were a few more people but then I was mostly here in the summer. In the winter Gran and Papa went to Florida but only after we celebrated Christmas together at Cathcart House.” She didn’t want to talk about the past. “About the summer people—do you know the kind of radius you’re drawing from?”
“We’ve done some surveys.” Ida prattled on about the city dwellers who came north to get away.
“Would you be able to get me a list with addresses? I’d like to get an idea of our current market.”
“Sure.” Ida shrugged as if it wasn’t important. “I’m in Tuesday.”
“Do you always take Mondays off?”
“Unless there’s something pressing. The town hasn’t got enough money for full-time office staff in the winter.” Ida plunked down on one of the patio chairs. “I’ll start working full-time after Easter.”
“Is there any new industry in the area?” she asked, looking for something to hang her plans on. “There used to be a sawmill—”
“It’s been closed for years.” Harold pulled out a map. “I heard that years ago some folks found a nice vein of copper up past the mill road—about there,” he said, pointing. “Purest ever seen, according to the stories. Shone in the sun as if it had been molded into those rocks forever. People used to stop by, take little pieces of it. Few years of that and it was gone, too.” He shrugged. “But it brought the place a minute or two of fame.”
While he’d been speaking, Ida had hurried away. She now returned with a platter and scooped the ribs off the barbecue onto it and handed it to Harold.
“Time to eat,” she announced.
Piper followed Ida to the dining room, where a long buffet table, six chairs and a huge black table were set.
“Piper, you sit there. Jason can sit across from you and Harold and I will hold down the ends. Good. Now, grace, Harold.”
Harold gave thanks, then picked up one of the plates stacked in front of him and began to load it with ribs, creamy mashed potatoes and bright green peas.
“Oh, my!” Piper gaped when he placed it in front of her. “It looks delicious, but it’s way too much. Perhaps you can make me a smaller plate.”
“Nonsense! You get started on Ida’s ribs, you won’t stop.”
Piper looked at Jason while searching her brain for some way to make them understand that she would never be able to eat what she’d been served. But Jason was busy eyeing his own heaping plate and spared her only a quick grin as he picked up a rib.
“Try them first,” he advised, then bit into the succulent meat.
Since everyone else had begun to eat, Piper followed their lead. She picked up the smallest piece between two fingers and nibbled at the end. The spices hit her tongue like those candy Pop Rocks she and her friends used to buy for a quarter and leave on their tongues while the flavors fizzled and hissed.
Only better. Much, much better.
Silence reigned as the four of them enjoyed their meals. Piper waited until Ida had coaxed everyone into seconds before she asked her, “Have you noticed anyone looking around the town recently?”
“Oh, we get Looky Lou’s all the time. Never amounts to a thing. Funny fellow with big glasses was in the office when Jason was away. Biggest brown eyes I ever saw. Wanted to know about the beach. It’s sand. What more could I say?” She croaked a laugh at her own joke.
So Wainwright Inc. had sent someone to check things out. It was strange Dylan was doing on-site research these days.
Piper realized Jason’s blue eyes were on her. A smear of sauce dotted his cheek.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Not really. I just wondered if a corporation was already interested. I didn’t see a hotel in town—”
“Exactly what I’ve been telling the council,” Jason exclaimed. “The no-tell motel is hardly the kind of place we want to showcase, though it’s clean enough. But Bart doesn’t think there’s any point in painting or modernizing the place, especially since business has been so slow. If he heard he’d have some competition, I imagine he’d sink some cash into his outfit pronto.”
“So nobody’s talked
to you about building a hotel?” Piper had hoped for nonchalance but knew it hadn’t quite come off when Jason’s curious stare stayed on her. He couldn’t know why she was asking, could he?
“To me personally? No.” He turned toward the older woman. “Ida, you didn’t get the name of this man, did you?”
Ida set down her fork, her forehead wrinkled.
“He gave one. I just don’t remember what it was. Young fellow, really friendly. I might have written it down. I’ll check on Tuesday.” Her scrutiny shifted to Piper, grew more intense. “Why are you so interested in this guy?” she asked.
“If he was scouting locations, I’d like to talk to him,” she ad-libbed. “Maybe the town can dangle a carrot that would encourage someone to build.”
“We don’t have much to dangle,” Ida mumbled, her face skeptical. She forgot the subject they’d been discussing, until later when Piper was drying dishes beside her.
“You know who was here snooping around don’t you?”
“I could guess. I have a few feelers out with friends who suggested a company but I’ll have to do more checking.” She kept her attention on the glass she was drying.
“He kept asking about bylaws to do with the beach. You think someone wants to put a hotel right on it—like in Hawaii?” Ida swished the suds down the drain, then hung her dishcloth over the sink. “That might not be a bad idea.”
Piper set down the last dry dish, searching for a way to express her concern.
“It could work, with a lot of input from the town council. But we don’t want such a beautiful beach to be ruined.”
“By pollution, you mean?” Ida shrugged. “I’m sure the government has lots of laws to control that sort of thing.”
“Not just pollution. The wholesome atmosphere of the town has to be protected if we want to attract families. We don’t want a bar near little kids playing in the sand.”
“Goes without saying.” Apparently her explanation satisfied Ida, who then busied herself filling the coffee decanter with water. “Stays light longer now. Would you like to join us outside and watch the stars come out?”