Tide Will Tell (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans)

by Lesley Ann McDaniel

Coming Summer 2015…

  By Janalyn Voigt

  Chapter 1

  Piper closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the morning sun, letting herself think of nothing at all. There was only the sway of the pier and the wind fingering her hair as it left the kiss of salt on her lips. A stray tear cooled the corner of one eye, and her throat thickened.

  When had she stopped letting herself feel the joy of the moment?

  Harsh cries rose above the beat of a motor, and with a sigh she opened her eyes. Seagulls wheeled above a small speedboat arrowing toward a small fleet of pleasure craft anchored beyond the marina’s fuel dock. With the tranquility shattered, she turned away just as light flashed in her peripheral vision.

  What was that?

  The small mystery held her. Perhaps on one of the boats riding at anchor something metallic had caught the sun. The vessels gleamed pristine white, yielding no answers. The engine cut out, and in sudden silence the speedboat slid through the blue waters.

  There it was again.

  Light flashed from one of the boats as a figure at the helm lowered an arm. Someone had been using binoculars. How ridiculous to feel they’d been trained on her, but she couldn’t help the uncanny awareness crawling up her spine.

  An anchor glinted, and the speedboat dragged to a stop. The wash from its wake kept coming.

  Piper braced as water sloshed beneath the weathered boards at her feet and buffeted the dock. The vessels in the marina creaked and groaned against their moorings. She balanced on the balls of her feet until the water smoothed over, but for some reason the dock was still pitching.

  “Prince!” A girl’s voice called as claws scrabbled on wood.

  Piper turned to see what was wrong. Massive paws thudded into her shoulders. A hairy monster filled her vision. She flailed, and the dock slammed into her. The monster stood over her with fanged mouth gaping and paws planted on her shoulders.

  “Prince! Stop that.”

  Ignoring this suggestion, Prince slathered Piper’s face with his tongue.

  “Ooomph! You…great big…oaf. Get off!”

  Prince, seemingly impervious to the yanking of his studded collar, whined deep in his throat.

  “I mean it, Prince. Sit!”

  Prince whined again but removed his paws from Piper’s shoulders and withdrew to crouch on his haunches nearby. Rolling to her side with cautious movements, Piper watched her adversary for any sign of a renewed attack.

  A young girl captured Prince’s leash, her blond hair swinging in a ponytail. Dressed in faded jeans, a pale blue sweatshirt, and sneakers, she looked about twelve and far too light to manage such a brute. “I am sorry. Prince is a good dog. He just doesn’t know his size.”

  “Dog? I took him for a small bear, although I wondered where he came by those whiskers.” Piper pushed into a sitting position, doing her best to smile.

  The girl returned the effort, her smile transforming her face. “You’re all right, aren’t you?” She extended the hand not clutching the dog’s leash.

  “I’ll be okay.” Hesitant to touch her with Prince on guard, Piper scrambled to her feet without help and smoothed her fleece jacket with shaking hands.

  “I’m glad you’re not hurt. My aunt almost didn’t let me bring my dog on vacation, saying he was bound to be a problem. If I can’t keep him out of trouble, he’ll have to go to a kennel.” She said the last part in an indignant tone.

  The girl’s aunt probably had a point, although Piper kept her opinion to herself.

  “My name’s Lindy Carlisle, by the way. That’s our yacht, the Lady Gray.” She waved a nonchalant hand at the yacht moored alongside the t-head dock where they stood. “This is my first visit to the San Juans.”

  “I’m Piper Harrington, and it’s my first visit here, too.”

  “Are you a boater?”

  Piper shook her head. “No, I came out for a walk and stopped to admire the boats. The Lady Gray is beautiful. I’m renting a condo here at Rosario Resort.”

  “We’re neighbors, then. My aunt and I are staying at one of the condos, too. Behave yourself!”

  Lindy’s last words were for Prince, now thumping the pier with repeated blows from his tail as he wiggled ever closer. At his mistress’s reprimand, he plopped down and divided mournful glances between them.

  Piper laughed. “Prince doesn’t look so scary as when we first met.”

  “He’s still a puppy, but being an Irish wolfhound, he’s already big. My aunt doesn’t like him much.”

  So far the girl had spoken of her aunt only by title and not by name. Perhaps they weren’t close. Why, then, were they traveling together? Such things were none of Piper’s business, of course. “Have you been here long?”

  “Only a couple of days.”

  “Are you planning to visit Mount Constitution? It’s the highest peak in the San Juan Islands, and the view is supposed to be miraculous.”

  Lindy’s brow furrowed. “My aunt doesn’t care for sightseeing.” She flicked Prince’s leash. “Come on, boy.” The dog lumbered to his feet, his back coming almost to Piper’s waist. “I’d better get back before she sends the police after me.”

  Such a dramatic remark from a pre-teen might have passed Piper by if it hadn’t been for the girl’s look of bewildered pain. During their marriage Able had teased Piper about her tendency to take in stray animals, champion lost causes, and rush in where angels feared to tread. He’d listed all the reasons she shouldn’t interfere in other people’s lives. And yet…a young girl should never have to look like that. Piper drew a breath. “What about your parents? Will they be joining you and your aunt?”

  Lindy’s eyes widened. “My mother died six months ago, and my father—well he—you see, he…”

  “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry about your loss.” Able had been right, as usual.

  “Lindy!” A red-headed woman wearing sunglasses and what looked like an expensive black pantsuit called from the end of the dock. “How long does it take to walk a dog?” Something in the tilt of the woman’s head gave Piper the impression she was watching her rather than her niece.

  Lindy rolled her eyes. “I have to go.” Holding Prince on a short leash, she started down the pier with a hesitant step. After a moment’s conversation, the pair moved off toward the condos with the dog pulling at his leash, tail wagging like a flag.

  Light reflecting from the water made rippling patterns up the side of the yacht. Piper tilted her head to gaze at the majestic vessel as a familiar yearning stirred. Her dream of cutting loose and sailing the seven seas with her husband had remained unfulfilled. Able had loved the idea, and they’d had the means to carry off such a trip, but he had been too entrenched in New York’s literary scene to break away for long.

  Hugging herself, Piper looked out across Cascade Bay to Eastsound. Beyond the shifting waters of the inlet that divided Orcas Island nearly in two, the emerald swells of Blakely Island cupped the water as if with gentle hands.

  If they’d gone, he’d be alive today.

  Piper caught her breath and blinked away sudden moisture. In the nearly two years since Able’s car crash, she’d laid far too many tears at the altar of memory. For sanity’s sake, it was time to free herself of grief.

  Her thoughts weren’t helping her mood any. A distraction was in order.

  At her condo, Piper pulled off her fleece jacket, which smelled a lot like dog, and dropped it into the hamper. An inspection in the bathroom mirror revealed a pale woman with eyes nearly as dark as her tousled shoulder-length hair. Although she’d showered before going out, the smell of dog still clung to her…

  As she stepped into the shower, the spray instantly warmed her. Lifting her face, she scrubbed away the dried saliva from her encounter with Prince, then let the water thrum against the back of her neck to ease her knotted muscles.

  The morning hadn’t started well, but if she wore her favorite jeans and sloppiest sweatshirt any day could be improved. With the
worn fabric comfortable against her skin and her hair dried and pulled into a simple ponytail at the back of her head, Piper felt ready for an adventure. She filled her water bottle and threw a bag of potato chips, some cheese, and an apple into a satchel. A bungee cord would easily secure the satchel to the back of the serviceable bicycle that had come with the condo.

  It had been five years or more since her last bike ride, but it was supposed to be something you never forgot how to do. Going the eight miles to Doe Bay might be more than she could manage, but it would be fun to try. According to the Orcas Island visitor’s guide, the Doe Bay resort boasted soaking tubs and a sauna. After today’s two showers, she’d pass on both, but dining at the restaurant would be a nice reward, although eating alone in public still cost her a small effort.

  Of course, all of that depended on her making it up the hill to Olga Road, also known as the Horseshoe Highway because it formed that shape as it curved around Orcas Island. It had seemed so much less steep when she’d driven it yesterday in the rental car. At least this part would be downhill when she came back. She made slow progress and had to climb off and walk the bike now and again, each time vowing to visit the gym more regularly. Since it was midweek and barely summer the traffic was light. Thankfully, that meant fewer witnesses to her humiliation.

  Piper reached the highway and stopped to drink from her water bottle. The day had warmed, making her wish she’d layered her clothing. She perched on the bike, undecided. Going back to the condo would be an easy ride, but the road didn’t seem too bad now. The guidebook claimed the ride to Doe Bay wasn’t difficult.

  A deer stepped from the forest across the highway. Piper held her breath and went motionless. The deer glanced backward, and then dipped her head to graze alongside the road as two spotted fawns with ears twitching emerged behind her. Piper waited until the gentle creatures ranged northward along the road before sending her bike south toward Doe Bay. The unexpected sight had enticed her with possibilities. What other discoveries might today bring?

  The forgotten freedom of riding a bike on a summer day sent a shaft of pure joy through her. She had left her bike at her mother’s house in Stockton without a backward glance after marrying Able. What had Mom done with it? It hadn’t been there when she and her brother, Paul, had gone through her mother’s things after her funeral. Perhaps Mom had held onto it for a while before giving it away, remembering the daughter who had grown and gone.

  Piper rode on amid the scents of road dust and evergreen needles until reaching Cascade Lake, where the cooling breeze off the water came as welcome. At the day-use area she refilled her water bottle and slipped into the shade of the charming stone picnic shelter. It was crowded, but she found a spot a little apart from the families gathered there.

  The apple in her satchel was crisp and sweet, not surprising since Washington was famous for this particular fruit. She pulled her cell phone out of her bag. Her phone advised her there was no signal, so she switched it off. Checking her emails was a ploy that helped her feel less awkward when eating alone, anyway. One of the families packed up and another took its place. Voices echoed from the trail around the lake and boats dotted the blue waters. Cascade Lake was obviously well loved.

  Piper ripped the bag of potato chips open, then looked up into a pair of light eyes that were a cross between green and brown, made all the more striking by their owner’s tanned skin and dark hair. He wore a white button-down shirt and dark blue jeans and carried a day pack. “May I join you? The other tables are full.”

  A glance around the shelter told her this was true. “Yes, of course.” She could hardly refuse without seeming selfish, but now she really felt awkward.

  “Thanks.”

  The smile that lit his face nudged a memory. Had they met before? He slung his day pack onto the bench and sat across from her. She realized she was staring and dragged her gaze away as heat rose into her cheeks. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mistake her interest, although he was attractive. In fact, maybe she noticed him a little more than felt comfortable. Piper’s stomach clenched, and she stood up without looking at her table mate. This situation wasn’t something she could handle. “I was just leaving.” She fled the picnic shelter.

  “Wait!” He called after her, causing several heads to turn her direction. After catching up to her, he held up her satchel. “You left this.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” She reached for the satchel, but he didn’t release it.

  “I didn’t mean to drive you away. Please. Go back and finish your lunch. I feel bad for upsetting you.”

  Piper opened her mouth to deny being upset but couldn’t quite make that claim, although not for the reasons he’d named. She tugged the satchel out of his grasp. “No, it’s all right. Really. I needed to come out and stretch a bit. My legs were cramping. It’s been years since I rode a bike.”

  He smiled that familiar smile. “How far have you come today?”

  “Just from Rosario.” She bent to strap the satchel onto the bike.

  “Do you think you can you make it back?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m doing so well I may go on to Doe Bay.” There was no need to add that last part, but his question had stung her pride a little.

  His eyes widened. “That’s quite a distance. Look, I hate to nip ambition in the bud, but maybe you should choose a closer destination. You might not do so well on the return trip, and then you’d be stuck.”

  She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of it in that light.”

  He smiled. “Olga is worth seeing and only a couple of miles more. It’s a historic town with a café and art gallery.”

  She straddled her bike and fastened her helmet. “Thanks for the suggestion.”

  He looked past her to the lake. “I know we’ve only just met, but would you be interested in having coffee with me?” The tips of his ears turned pink, as if he’d embarrassed himself.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not really ready for something like that.” Regret tinged her voice, but she had to be honest.

  “Thought I’d try.” The glance he sent her almost had her changing her mind. “Have fun today.”

  “I will.” Piper pushed the bike into motion but stopped at the road and looked back. He was standing where she’d left him, looking oddly forlorn. He must be very lonely. For that matter, she had to be, too. Why else would she feel such a wrench at parting from a stranger? After returning his wave, Piper turned away to follow the road as it skirted the lake.

  Something was nagging at her, but she couldn’t say what. The encounter had unsettled her so much it was hard to pay attention on the mechanics of shifting gears. The forest closed in, and she slipped through light and shadow, giving herself to the journey.

  A silver Mazda was parked alongside the road with its nose facing south, its windows so darkly tinted she couldn’t tell if anyone was inside. Maybe the driver had stopped to eat lunch. Just past the car, she came to a one-lane bridge lined by concrete rails topped by moss. A cliff rose on one side of the vintage structure and a drop fell away on the other. The curve of the road made it impossible to see if anything was coming. She strained to hear the sound of an approaching vehicle. In a car crossing would have seemed considerably less intimidating, but it wasn’t far and she couldn’t hear anything coming. Her tires swished onto the bridge.

  An engine roared to life, and as she glanced back, the silver Mazda hurtled toward her.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To the lovely people of Shaw Island and Friday Harbor. Thanks for letting me bring a little mayhem to your community.

  Michael Berry from Underwater Criminal Investigators, LLC. Thanks for teaching me everything I could ever want to know about underwater body recovery.

  My brother, Jeff Even, for giving me the right legal terminology. It’s good to have a lawyer in the family.

  To Don Ferguson, an awesome stagehand and mapmaker extraordinaire.

  Lynnette Bonner. Thanks for the fabulous formatting!

  ABOUT THE
AUTHOR

  Born in Missoula, Montana, Lesley earned a degree in acting at Willamette University in Salem, Oregon. She fell in love with theatrical costuming, and pursued that as a career while nurturing her passion for writing on the side.

  Between working as a homeschooling mom and a professional theatre costumer, Lesley has completed several novels. She would have done more by now if she didn’t occasionally stop to clean the house. Fortunately, she loves to cook, so no one in her family has starved yet.

  Lesley now resides in the Seattle area with her husband, two daughters, three cats and a big loud dog. She is a member of the Northwest Christian Writers Association.

  In her spare time (ha!) she chips away at her goal of reading every book ever written.

  Please visit her website at:

  lesleyannmcdaniel.com