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Lighthouse Reef (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 4)

Page 17

by Vickie McKeehan


  Kinsey thought of the lighthouse. “And more, I’d say.”

  “Yeah and more.” He ran his hands through his long hair. “My grandfather, Liam Donnelly, designed the lighthouse and helped build the tower six decades ago.”

  “Liam Donnelly? So I was right? I knew the two names were connected.”

  “Yes, you were right. You’re the only one who made the link. While spending time in this little backwater town on a project he’d taken, he met my grandmother. At thirty years old, a self-avowed bachelor, he fell in love with a nineteen-year-old girl. Times were different back then.”

  “Oh I don’t know, these days you have fifty year old movie stars dating twenty-year-olds. On both sides of the aisle, not so different at all.”

  “True. But this was in 1936. I’m convinced they truly loved each other. The only times they were ever apart was when he traveled to do his job. And then, of course, the day he died. I’m not sure he ever got over Megan’s disappearing like she did. Then there was my grandmother’s anguish over losing them both. Losing both of them broke her heart, her spirit.”

  “What about your parents, Logan?”

  “Good question. They seemed to go on like nothing had happened. Except now my dad used Megan’s disappearance for one more reason to hate his father. After all, Megan hadn’t disappeared on his watch. I think they blamed my grandmother for it the most. I had a fractured family, Kinsey. It wasn’t Ozzie and Harriet.”

  “I’ve got news for you, Logan. No one has an Ozzie and Harriet kind of family. No one.”

  “Tell me about yours.”

  “I had my mother. That’s it. Short and sweet. I’m what happens when a very, wealthy married man has an affair with the help, gets her pregnant. Of course, my mother was fired on the spot when the whole sordid thing came to light. My sperm donor father died shortly after I was born, head-on collision on the 101. Drunk driving. His fault. He also killed someone in the other car. His wife survived. But according to my mom, his family had to pay out a substantial amount in damages to the family of the woman he killed. Apparently they could afford it. In spades.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Addison Kinsey.” She waited a beat to see if he recognized the affluent name. “My mother’s own little joke, a form of revenge, I suppose. Although I do wish she’d thought of something more original than Kinsey Addison Wyatt.”

  “The Addison Kinsey? Kinsey Industries?”

  “Ah, I see you’ve heard of the sperm donor’s family.”

  “Who hasn’t? You’re Addison Kinsey’s daughter?”

  She laughed at the look on his face. “So my mother said. I wouldn’t actually know with absolute certainty without causing an uprising of some sort. I doubt Addison Kinsey’s heirs would welcome me with open arms at the family reunion.”

  “I don’t see that ever happening either, not with what I know about the storied Kinsey family. Their wealth goes all the way back to the late nineteenth century. They made their money in the Central Pacific Railroad, along with a few gold and silver mines thrown in. Haven’t you ever been curious?”

  “Not really. At this stage in my life, I don’t need the Kinseys or their money. The sad thing about all of it is my mother still loved the guy until the day he drove his car into someone else’s. In Ellie Wyatt’s short life, and believe me her life was way too short, I don’t ever remember her dating. She might have before I turned four or so, but in my memory she never even bothered with it. She was one woman who seemed truly happy without having a man in her life. I once tried to set her up with my seventh-grade science teacher, who I had a major crush on at the time. I sat around dreaming the two of them might actually be a couple. But my mother wanted no part of it.”

  “Wonder why?”

  Kinsey lifted a shoulder. “I managed to work that into the conversation once before she died. She said something romantic like ‘once you find the one, no one else will ever do.’ But…I never really bought the idea there’s only one person out there for you.”

  “It’s a myth.”

  “For once, I think we’ve found something we agree on.”

  He reached out, took hold of her chin, brought her lips up to meet his.

  About that time the high tide surged around their feet, danced in and out in playful tag. They both stood there wet, caught up in want and need, drowning, not in the pounding surf, but locked in heavy combat, fighting their emotions. Neither was quite prepared to take that next step.

  From high above the cliffs, he watched the couple on the stretch of beach below. So Kinsey Wyatt was Logan’s woman. That might make things more interesting down the road. It would certainly make his own reconnaissance more thrilling. His life was settling into a rut anyway. He’d have to pick up the pace.

  He hadn’t been able to understand what they’d said to each other. All he knew was the conversation had been intense before the make out session had kicked in.

  If he knew Donnelly, and he thought he did, he wanted to keep his options open. After all, the man would never find his sister. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t play head games with the asshole. All part of the fun, he decided as he started back to his car. He’d take a drive out to his special place. It was past time he paid his girls a visit.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As soon as the paint dried on the walls, Kinsey started the move over to her apartment. Even though she didn’t have all that much stuff, mostly clothes, it had taken a half a dozen trips back and forth from her room and up the steps to the studio to get everything tucked into its rightful place. Kinsey knew from experience, living in a small space, it was best if you found a place for everything and kept it there right up front.

  She remade the bed with crisp white sheets, plumped the pillows, and once again, spread out the goose down comforter over the top. She’d polished every surface, every stick of furniture the night before with lemon oil. In fact, she’d defy anyone to try to find a speck of dust anywhere.

  Around eight o’clock she looked around and declared the move-in complete. Her clothes were put away, hung up in the armoire or arranged in the drawers. Her toiletries were laid out in the bathroom. She’d even stopped at Emma Colter’s on the way home and picked up the slipcover for the sofa, which was now a rich, deep brown that contrasted with the apricot walls.

  First chance she got, she would pick up some decorative pillows at the thrift store. And as soon as Wally pronounced her car able to make it back to the Bay, she’d take the trip there to pick up the rest of her stuff. It wasn’t much, mostly keepsakes and photographs, some of her books and treasures that wouldn’t fit in the car. But all of it would make the place seem more like a home. Her home.

  She’d even taken that first step to wean herself off Jordan’s cooking. Using her employee discount at Murphy’s, she’d packed her fridge to the gills with the necessary staples like milk and eggs, added cold cuts and cheese. Her cabinets were full, too. There was no chance she’d starve without Jordan’s cuisine.

  “How do you like it?”

  She jumped a little at the sound of Scott’s voice but she recovered quickly. “I love it! It’s so much larger than my little room. How does it look?”

  “It looks like it’s had a makeover from one of those do-it-yourself home channels. Donnelly really nailed the color for the walls.”

  “He did, didn’t he?” She turned to face Scott. “You know why he’s here, don’t you?”

  “I’ve always known he’d eventually come back here to look for Megan.”

  “Scott?”

  “What?”

  “Do you know who killed Megan?”

  His blue eyes searched her hazel. “Yes.” Before she could say anything, he held up a steady hand. “Don’t go there, Kinsey. Let’s say I did tell you. Let’s say I gave you a name. What good would it do? What could you do with that information? You’d still need evidence, you’d still need proof. You start accusing someone and people in town will think you’re on a witch hunt
. You’re just now settling in, trying to establish yourself, that’s the last thing you need here. If I gave you or Logan a name, you’d never convince anyone in town of anything without solid proof.”

  “Is there solid proof, Scott?”

  “Yes. But again, there are some things I don’t see, some things I don’t know. Believe it or not, I don’t have all the answers to every question in the damn universe. You and Logan will need to work together to solve this thing. If you don’t, if you allow it to skate by, it will remain a mystery forever. You and Logan get one shot at this, Kinsey. And that would be a shame if you two blow it now because the families of those girls deserve to know what happened to them after all these years. Do you understand?”

  “I think so. But you can’t even get Logan to talk to you. He doesn’t even want to acknowledge that he sees you, Scott.”

  “You think I don’t know that. I’ve never seen a more stubborn man. You’d think an artist would be able to think outside the box, have an open mind about things. Who knew the guy couldn’t get his head out of his ass long enough to consider new possibilities?”

  “He’s so…angry…so pissed off. Do you think that’s the reason he’s so unwilling to accept you?”

  “Probably. But that’s why it’s up to you. I want you to promise me something though.”

  “Sure.”

  “Be very careful, Kinsey. You’re an intelligent woman. Don’t be fooled into trusting anyone that gives off a vibe. Trust your gut instincts. You’ll need them.”

  “What are you still doing hanging around here this time of night?” Logan asked Troy when he spotted him standing outside the construction trailer.

  “Just making certain everything’s ready when they deliver the lumber tomorrow morning. Should be here around eight a.m. It’ll take up a lot of room when it does get here.”

  “That’s why we’ll store most of it in the tower until we’re ready to use it in the keeper’s house. Keeps it out of the weather.”

  Troy cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank you for teaching me to use the computer like you did. I never had nobody take the time like that to walk me through the software program so I could do the ordering.”

  Logan had thought as much but it was nice to know Troy appreciated learning something new. “You get this down and you can go anywhere to get a job. That’s the truth. Construction sites always need good supply people that can track orders online and keep track of inventory.”

  “How do you know that? You sound like you’ve worked construction even though I know better. Artists don’t do stuff like that.”

  Logan smiled. “I wasn’t always an artist, Troy. I had to earn a living just like everyone else before someone spotted a single piece of my sculpture they wanted to buy. Until that happened, I worked as a carpenter.”

  “Get out. Really?” He cleared his throat again before Logan could answer. “I was upset when you gave Derek the foreman’s job instead of me.”

  Logan nodded. He’d known that, too. “Your uncle has more construction experience. It wasn’t a slight to you.”

  “I know that now. But I was your first hire. I thought, you know, you’d make me your foreman because of that. But now, I’m glad you didn’t. I wouldn’t like it very much to have to ride roughshod over Turley.”

  “Derek seems to have his number in that regard.” He locked up the trailer and said, “It’s getting late. Something else on your mind?”

  “I wanted a man’s take on something.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Kinsey says I should make Mona a jewelry box for her birthday. But it won’t be a store bought present. And I know women like fancier stuff they see in stores. Do you think I’d be wasting my time if I made her one special?”

  “Troy, if Mona doesn’t appreciate your artistic talents, you gotta keep looking, son. If she isn’t right for you, keep looking.”

  “That’s what Kinsey said.”

  “Yeah, well, Kinsey’s a smart woman.”

  The Friday before Memorial Day, Logan got his cast off. The orthopedist, a Dr. Allen Jax in Santa Cruz, seemed to think his range of motion was within normal, even though the wrist and part of the hand looked pale and scaly—and itched like hell. Sitting on the exam table, Logan felt like he was ten years old again.

  “You’ll have some weakness in the tendons and muscle. That, too, is normal and will pass,” Dr. Jax confirmed.

  “This is the third cast I’ve had sawed off in the last year, I know the drill.”

  “Good, then you know not to go out and pick a fight.”

  “It wasn’t on my agenda.” But one thing he knew for certain was, before the weekend was out, he intended to put an end to the tension that had built up between himself and Kinsey Wyatt.

  “You know about the exercises then?”

  “Never got to that point before.”

  “Well, the x-rays show everything’s healed but I’ll give you a list of exercises to do to take it slow, build up over time to gain the strength back.”

  “Will I get my full dexterity back?”

  “I can’t answer that. If you do the strengthening exercises religiously, those should get you where you want to go—eventually. If you experience pain, take four to six ibuprofen, use ice locally to take the swelling down. Take it nice and slow and I think you should get the dexterity to around ninety percent.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to settle for that.”

  Memorial Day weekend always kicked off summer. That was the rule.

  It might’ve been a three-day-holiday for some but not for Kinsey. The only day she got off would be Monday. She had her schedule to keep at Murphy’s and the weekend crowd of tourists that would surely find their way into The Pointe for fine dining or cocktails. She knew Perry Altman expected big crowds as people who lived inland would invariably pile in their cars for a day trip to the beach. While here, they’d spend their dollars up and down Main Street, or in the shops along the pier on Ocean Street. They’d come to Pelican Pointe to visit the Fanning Marine Rescue Center, or to participate in the Memorial Day parade. If they were trying to get away for the weekend, they’d make reservations at least overnight at Promise Cove.

  Kinsey knew from Jordan that the inn was booked solid for the entire three-day weekend. She was thrilled to have her own place. No more bumping into people on the staircase. Even if that place was a stone’s throw from the main house, it was to her, separate from all the other “guests.”

  There was a certain amount of freedom in Aaron knowing that after she finished up work today, she’d be able to change into her little black dress right there in the bathroom down the hall at his house. No more sneaking around.

  She’d only seen Logan in passing, a couple of times at breakfast, a couple of dinner conversations. Either he seemed preoccupied with his project or he’d been avoiding another conversation about his sister, as if he’d been regretting his decision to share Megan with anyone else. It had occurred to Kinsey more than once that it was almost like a test, to see if she’d rat him out. It was almost as if he expected her to give away his secret at the first opportunity.

  His evasion was starting to piss her off.

  Oh there had been a few daytime phone calls, a few text messages, but for the most part Logan Donnelly had kept to himself. That was either on purpose or he’d been caught up in his project and didn’t or wouldn’t make time to see her.

  For God’s sake they had slept right across the hall from each other until she’d moved out. If she’d thought the guy might knock on her door in the middle of the night for a quickie, she’d been greatly disappointed. He hadn’t even walked across the courtyard to see if she got moved in okay. Not that she needed his help.

  But she would admit to no one that she’d spent her last three nights across the hall from him edgy and tense. She’d been tempted to slip into a sexy teddy, slink out of her room and just tiptoe across the hall, knock on his door, and seduce him by simply crawling into his bed
. To hell with a long-term commitment. To hell with a serious relationship. All she’d been able to think about since that first Saturday night they’d kissed and necked was having that mouth of his all over her body.

  It was just sex, wasn’t it?

  She’d had uncomplicated sex before, she could damn sure do it again. Another woman might have done just that. But Kinsey Wyatt refused to throw herself at a man, especially one as cocky and arrogant as Logan Donnelly. No, he’d have to make the first move. She wouldn’t go begging to get his attention. In fact, she got the distinct impression he was used to women falling at his feet.

  But the temptation was there. That’s why she’d be wise to keep him at a distance.

  And one huge reason, she was glad she no longer stayed at the main house. She couldn’t very well sneak across the courtyard in a trench coat to tap on the man’s bedroom door at two in the morning.

  But God, how pathetic was it that she’d already consider doing that?

  With the holiday weekend, the B & B was all but bursting at the seams. By seven that Friday evening, Logan felt the walls closing in. He watched during meal time as parents did their best to wrangle rowdy, over-stimulated children to sit down to eat their suppers. If that wasn’t enough, they had to catch them to get them ready for bedtime. After one little boy of about three, spilled his chocolate milk all over Logan, he decided it was time to escape. But when he went to his room, he found he couldn’t settle.

  All week his mind had been on Kinsey. He’d tried to avoid her though after their walk on the beach. He shouldn’t have confided in her about Megan. He’d known better. But it really was a simple matter. It had been a burden he’d never shared with another living soul. He’d opened up that festering wound by coming back here. And now, if Kinsey decided to tell any number of people he’d just have to live with the consequences.

 

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