Tide Will Tell (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans)

by Lesley Ann McDaniel

  Nothing was going the way she’d planned, although she had managed to convince herself that the incident in the ice cream parlor had nothing to do with Joe. If he had found her, he wouldn’t waste time planting a bomb, nor would he want to risk drawing attention to himself. There had to be some other explanation for that.

  Wandering back to the living room, she braced the bottle between her elbow and her side and ripped open the bag of fruit. Then there was that odd encounter with the nun. Josh was probably right about the man she’d mentioned being a reporter. If Joe had tracked her all the way to Shaw, he wouldn’t have to solicit help from a nun to make that final step.

  She fingered what looked like a dried strawberry, then popped it in her mouth. Maybe it had been that photographer who had later found her in Friday Harbor. The guy who was probably still determined to get the one shot that would pay his rent for the month and get her killed if Joe saw it and recognized her. The thought made her stomach do a flip flop and she abandoned the bag and the bottle on the coffee table.

  A gust of wind bellowed, forcing rain and branches against the windows and causing her to shudder.

  Running her hands through her hair, she sat on one of the sofas. The more she thought about Chase, the angrier she got. He was a week away from becoming a married man again. He had no business driving around with another woman, much less staying away from home without letting Kate know his whereabouts. She had to set a better precedent. Let him know her boundaries right off the bat.

  As she made a move to get her phone from her purse, her other, less courageous side took over. What did she know about being married? The only models she’d had were her mom and dad, who never seemed to communicate, and later her stepdad, who would fly into a rage at the slightest query as to his whereabouts. No, accountability hadn’t been a strong suit in Kate’s childhood home.

  Leaning forward, she put her face in her hands.

  Nothing made sense, and she was going to go crazy if she kept analyzing the situation. She looked around for something to take her mind off the waiting, and her eyes landed on her wedding binder. She opened it to her ‘To Do’ section at the front and ran her finger down the list of items, most of which had been checked off. She pulled the small pen from its position in the front of the book and put an X in front of ‘gown fitting’.

  Her eyes lit on the magazine clipping she’d almost discarded, but had slipped into the front pocket of the binder instead. She hadn’t included it with the pictures she’d shown the dress designer but now, as she pulled it out, she felt comforted in an odd way. The gorgeous skirt was slim at the waist and tapered out to a full mid-calf hem. The fitted, lace bodice had a V-neck and cap sleeves. It looked like something Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn would have worn in the 1950s, and was a style Kate adored. Why hadn’t she told the designer that was what she wanted?

  Never mind. She knew why. It wasn’t suitable for the future Mrs. Chase Cole. Too young and hip. Not classy enough. She had made the right decision.

  As she slipped the picture back into its pocket, a noise from the direction of the front door threw her senses into high alert. A scrape-thump, like something had brushed past the outside of the house.

  Her breathing stopped. An animal? No. It must be the wind. She sat completely still, listening. Had she just imagined it?

  Another sound, this one a little louder. Not the wind. The crunch of footsteps!

  Shoving the binder aside, she leaped to her feet. Anger mingled with adrenaline. It was fine for Chase to relegate her to the guesthouse, but hadn’t he considered her safety? Then again, why should he? She hadn’t told him about Joe.

  The noise sounded once more, and her gaze fixed on the kitchen window. That side of the house was thick with trees and shrubbery. Perfect to conceal anyone wanting to sneak around the house.

  Holding her breath, she edged her way across the room, grateful that she’d closed the kitchen curtains. She had to just peek out to reassure herself.

  Reaching the window, she lifted a shaky hand. Just as she pulled back the curtain, something…or someone brushed past the window. Kate reeled back.

  No…no…!

  Her gaze traveled the wall in the direction the person—if it was a person—would be moving. Toward the back door!

  Heart racing, she charged to the door, ignoring the pain caused by the rapid movement, and grabbed the knob, jiggling it to assure that it was secure. Terror and uncertainty paralyzed her. Should she stand her ground? Hide somewhere?

  Panicking, she scanned the kitchen. Vivid images she had thought she’d shut out filled her head. It had been six years, but as she grabbed a knife out of a rack on the counter she remembered crouching in the broom closet of her childhood home, gripping her mom’s sewing shears.

  A wave of queasiness assaulted her as she clutched the knife in front of her with trembling hands. Would she be able to use it as a weapon? All those years ago, she had known without a doubt that she would defend herself against her angry drunken stepfather if he ever came at her again. That was when she’d realized she had to leave that house for good.

  The sound came again, this time distinctly closer to the door. Her entire body shook with a too-familiar will to survive.

  Then the faint sound of a car engine jolted her. Chase!

  He would protect her. Surely he would see the lights in the guesthouse and come to her before going to the main house. She stumbled back to the kitchen window and peeked out. Through the darkness, she could barely see movement from between the trees up at the circular drive. That was Chase’s distinctive gait, but he was walking the other way, toward the main house. Anger flared. She desperately needed him, and he wasn’t even coming to check on her.

  She staggered over to where she’d left her purse on the sofa. With her free hand, she fumbled for her cell phone. Keeping an eye on the back door, she tapped Chase’s number, but got only his voice mail. Why wasn’t he answering?

  The wind gusted again, and she could have sworn the knob on the back door rattled. Her thoughts blurred. Joe…or someone sent by Joe. There was no other reasonable explanation.

  Dropping her phone on the sofa, she scurried to the front door and undid the deadbolt. Still clutching the knife, she darted outside. Wind and rain lashed at her and she could barely make out the trail that wound its way up the incline to the main house as she started to climb.

  Light poured out of the distant windows of the main house, but everything else around her was black. She tried to cry out to Chase, but the wind swallowed the pathetic sound she managed. A faint twunk reached her ears. The front door of the main house shutting?

  Now all she could hear was the wind whipping through the trees and the hammering of her heart. She tried to move faster, but her knee gave out and she toppled to the ground.

  Get up, Kate!

  As she pushed her palm against the stone path, she sensed someone approaching her from behind. Her head snapped around, and she caught a movement among the trees. Was someone there? Or was it just the branches swaying in the wind?

  A horrifying certainty that Joe had found her flooded her veins. Was she going to die here, on this dark path? Or worse, would he drag her away and make her pay for what she’d done to him?

  Raising the knife, she opened her mouth to scream, but again the wind silenced her voice. Then she sensed that whatever or whoever was there moved away, and the feeling of being followed vanished like smoke.

  She looked around, holding the knife up with one hand and her hair back from her face with the other. Had she just imagined it?

  She pulled herself to her feet and stumbled the rest of the way to the house. Grabbing the railing, she dragged herself up the steps to the porch. She was desperate to find Chase, to throw herself into his arms for comfort and security. She would beg him to let her stay in this house tonight, and everything would be okay.

  Twisting the door handle, she pushed against the solid wood, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. Of course. She pound
ed on the door, feeling like a fool for not having a key to her own house.

  After what felt like a full minute, the lock clicked and her stomach jolted. Slowly, the door opened. She held her breath. All she saw was the dimly lit foyer. No one was there.

  Alarmed, she cautioned a half step forward into the cavernous room, which seemed ominous now with just the faint light at the entryway. Rain and wind whirred outside and she shivered against the question of who had unlocked the door. And why had they just disappeared?

  She took a couple more careful steps inside. Suddenly, another roar of wind so powerful it made the house shake stole her balance and pulled her from her thoughts.

  “Boo.” An eerie voice came from behind her, accompanied by a whoosh of wind and a resounding slam.

  Kate whirled around, wielding the knife and letting loose a scream.

  Chapter 13

  Just as Josh stepped out of his room, the unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream pierced through the howling of the wind and rain. Kate?

  Alarmed, he hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder and hurried to the stairs. Descending, he strained to see into the dimly lit foyer below. There next to the front door, Stuart stood with his hands raised like he was under arrest. Even stranger, Kate faced him holding up a butcher knife as though she were auditioning for a remake of Halloween.

  “What’s going on?” Heart racing, Josh took the remainder of the stairs at a sprint. As he reached her side, he saw that the knife shook in her grasp. Her tousled hair dripped, and the knees of her pants looked as if she’d taken a fall in the mud. What had happened to her since he’d left her to rest at the guesthouse all those hours ago?

  He fired a glare at Stuart. “What did you do?”

  “Me?” Stuart shifted a defensive hand toward Kate. “I wasn’t the one prowling around like a murderer.”

  Puzzled, Josh turned his gaze on Kate. Lowering his backpack to the floor, he reached out a careful hand for the knife. “Maybe I should take that now.”

  He waited till realization dawned in her eyes and she willingly allowed the handle to slip from her hand to his. Once he had confirmed that it was just a plain old kitchen knife, he took a step back and eyed them both. “Where did this thing come from, anyway?”

  “From the guesthouse.” She shot an accusatory glare at Stuart. “And I wasn’t prowling. Why did you sneak up behind me?”

  “Did I scare you?” Stuart let out a jittery laugh like he wanted to try to make a joke of this. “I heard you pounding on the door and I thought I’d have a little fun.”

  “Some fun.” The edge in her voice suggested that her fear had turned to anger. “And for future reference, I’m not big on practical jokes.”

  Josh looked at Stuart for a response. The guy had to be close to thirty—decades past finding pleasure in intentionally scaring someone.

  All Stuart managed was a disinterested shrug. No doubt all those years of entitlement had drained whatever empathy God had infused in him.

  Josh tried to tamp down his irritation. “You might want to think twice before you sneak up on someone who’s carrying a weapon. You almost gave Janet Leigh a run for her money.” Lifting the knife, he made a quick stabbing gesture for effect.

  Stuart frowned. “Janet who?”

  “Never mind.” Not wanting to waste any more breath on this guy, Josh turned to Kate, setting the knife down on an entry table. “Kate, what’s going on?”

  She leaned one hand against the table, clearly taking the weight off her hurt knee. “I was just looking for Chase.”

  “Oh.” Stuart tittered. “Mommy was looking for Daddy.”

  Annoyed, Josh watched as Stuart crossed to a cabinet that stood against the wall adjacent to a dark hallway. “Is something funny, Stuart?”

  Removing a bottle from the cabinet, Stuart contained his laughter and shook his head. “It’s just so ironic, that’s all.”

  “What is?” Josh couldn’t keep the exasperation from his voice.

  “Same blonde hair.” Stuart slid a bulbous glass from a hanging rack inside the cabinet. “Same blue eyes.”

  Josh half-turned to Kate. “Just ignore him.”

  Stuart made a big show of pouring an amber liquid into the glass, then looked down at Kate through narrowing eyes. “You remind me of her.” The utterance came out sounding dark and menacing.

  Kate shot Josh a look of wide-eyed confusion edged in fear.

  “Of who?” Whatever patience Josh had left was rapidly disintegrating.

  Stuart returned the bottle to the cabinet, took a swig from the glass, and crossed over to Kate. He leaned in so close that she recoiled, no doubt at least partially from the potency of his breath.

  “You remind me…” He sneered. “…of my mother.” It came out in a conspiratorial stage whisper as if he thought he was a character in a Woody Allen movie. He winked, then turned to stumble down the darkened hall.

  Huffing out exasperation, Josh gestured toward her dirty slacks. “Did you hurt yourself again?”

  A slight eye roll seemed to indicate that this was the least of her worries. “I’m fine. I just heard Chase come home and I…” She swept a hand across her front. “…fell in the rain, and…

  “Uh huh.” He tipped a nod at the knife. “And what’s with the cutlery?”

  She shrugged. “Just my nervous need for self-defense.” Her eyes lit on the backpack he’d abandoned near the door. “Are you leaving?”

  Was that disappointment in her voice…or wishful thinking in his interpretation? When Kate hadn’t made it to dinner, he’d prolonged his leaving, not wanting to disturb her if she was resting. Now, as he gazed into her pleading eyes that looked downright electric in this dim light, he again felt the unintentional hold she seemed to have on him. Maybe he should have cleared out while he’d had the chance.

  He glanced at his watch. “I’m catching the last ferry off the island tonight. I was just about to look for you so I could say goodbye.” He tapped the knife handle. “Glad I didn’t catch you by surprise, Norman Bates.”

  “Goodbye?” Her eyes shot to his. “But I was under the impression that you were staying the weekend.”

  “Yeah, I was under that impression too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just sort of changed my plans.”

  “Oh.” Her face dropped, a jumble of thoughts parading across it. Was sadness at the news that he was leaving part of that?

  He hesitated, not quite ready for what would no doubt be the final goodbye. Why couldn’t he just say it? It wasn’t like this was going to get any easier, and besides—he checked his watch again—he had a ferry to catch.

  The sound of a door opening somewhere down that dark hallway turned their heads. The quiet tap of footsteps followed, then Mr. Cole appeared carrying an empty glass decanter. His look of surprise at seeing them quickly softened.

  “Katie.” His gaze on her seemed gentle and loving as he approached. “I thought I heard a noise a minute ago. Sounded like a scream. Was that you?” He stopped short of giving her a peck on the cheek, jerking back in alarm. “What’s happened to you? You’re a mess.” His eyes darted quickly to Josh’s backpack then to Josh. “Are you leaving us so soon, Joshua?”

  “Yes, sir.” Resisting the urge to point out that Mr. Cole had failed to wait for Kate’s response, he gave his watch another glance. If he didn’t catch the ferry in fifteen minutes, he’d be spending another night here whether he wanted to or not. Still, he didn’t want to leave without sharing a private goodbye with Kate.

  He put on a polite façade. “Unfortunately, my summer job has fallen through, and I need to get back to Seattle to start looking for work. If I don’t get something, I can’t start film school in the fall.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear it. Well, a bright young man like you is bound to find employment. And remember the invitation remains open.” Still holding the decanter in one hand, he placed the other on Kate’s back. “One week from today. The wedding of the year.”

  Kat
e ran her hands over her hair. “Chase…” Her nonchalant tone seemed forced. “Where have you been all day?”

  “Just as I told you.” He crossed to the cabinet and set the decanter on top. “Sam and I had meetings all day in Seattle.”

  “Oh. So, that’s where you’ve been this entire time?”

  He nodded. “For the most part, yes.” He removed a full decanter and two tumblers from the cabinet and eyed Kate as he poured a reddish liquid into one of the glasses. “What’s the matter, dear? You look a little peaked.”

  “It’s just that…” She looked at Josh like she might need him to back her up. “We saw you earlier today.”

  “Oh?” Mr. Cole’s pleasant expression didn’t waver as he filled the second glass. “Where?”

  She let out a breath. “Driving off the ferry onto the island.”

  He gave her a light chuckle. “You must have better eyes than I do if you could make out my car from across the bay.”

  “No, I mean we were at the general store.” She hesitated, glancing at Josh with a hint of remorse in her eyes, as if she’d been the one keeping inappropriate company. “It’s just that, it was about four o’clock and I expected you to drive right to the house, and—”

  “Katie.” He capped the decanter. “You’ll have to accept that I have business to take care of.”

  “You had business on Shaw Island?”

  “Kate—”

  “And who were you with?”

  His face clouded, but Josh couldn’t tell if it was from confusion or guilt. “What?”

  “You had someone in the car with you.”

  “Of course I did.” He chuckled dismissively. “I told you I was with Sam.”

  “Yes, I know. But I saw—”

  The click of footsteps from down the hall interrupted her, and they all turned to see a woman appear at the entry to the hallway. She was probably about Mr. Cole’s age, with dark wavy hair and a plum colored skirt and blazer that flattered her shapely figure. A warm smile enhanced her chiseled, ethnic-looking features.