Secrets We Keep

by Barbara Freethy

  "I hope so. We do have one other clue—the jewelry store where Molly's grandmother worked. Someone might remember one or both of them."

  "I'm sure there are dozens of jewelry stores in San Francisco."

  "But maybe not a lot that sell artisan-type jewelry. It sounds like Molly's grandmother used her Native American background in her jewelry making."

  His words gave her a glimmer of hope, but she was afraid to latch on to it. "That's true, but it was fourteen years ago. The store could be closed. Or it's possible no one would remember her."

  "That's seeing the glass half empty, Cassidy."

  His words brought a reluctant smile to her lips. "You said that to me before—when we were kids."

  "It doesn't hurt to be optimistic."

  "It actually can hurt a lot. You have farther to fall."

  "Or you might get a new idea if you're not mired in pessimism. Is there anything else you remember?"

  "I don't think so."

  "I'll text Kate the information we have so far. It's a start. If we can't find Molly, maybe we can find her mother."

  She saw the determination in his eyes and was reminded again that when Hunter went after something, he usually won. "You're all in on this, aren't you?"

  "I told you that yesterday."

  "I thought you might have changed your mind after sleeping on it."

  "To be honest, I didn't get much sleep. I had a lot to think about. What about you? How was your night?"

  "Long," she admitted. "Which is why I'm running out of gas now."

  "How much more do you have to do? Can you call it a day?"

  She glanced at her watch. It was almost two, and she had been at it since eight. "I think so."

  "Good, because if you want, we could check out some jewelry stores until it's time to meet David."

  "You want to do that now?" she asked, a little startled by how quickly everything was moving.

  "I'll get on the internet while you finish up here and see what stores might be worth visiting. It's a long shot, but we might get lucky. If nothing else, we'll look at some jewelry."

  "All right. I need about twenty minutes."

  "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

  His words sent a tingle down her spine. At some point, she was going to have to say goodbye to Hunter. She had a feeling it was going to hurt even more this time around.

  Eleven

  When she'd finished putting her things away, Cassidy climbed into the back of her van and grabbed a clean shirt with the Wild Garden logo on it and quickly changed. She wished she could do something about her dusty jeans, but she hadn't brought along another pair of pants. She could, however, pull out her ponytail and run a brush through her hair.

  Taking a quick glance in the rearview mirror, she wished she looked a little better than she did. Her lip gloss had vanished hours ago, and she hadn't bothered with any eye makeup, thinking the plants she'd be working on all day certainly wouldn't notice. Her cheeks were nicely warmed from the sun, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that had more to do with Hunter than anything else.

  Oh, well, it didn't matter. She and Hunter were not going on a date; they were just working together. Although, how that was actually going to work was a mystery to her. It had taken all of her willpower the day before not to jump into the back seat of his Jeep and recreate the best night of her life.

  And even with all the mental reminders that that had been a good decision, a tiny part of her felt like she'd missed out on something amazing.

  But maybe she'd also missed out on more heartbreak.

  Playing it safe wasn't the worst idea in the world, and it had certainly been her mantra for the last decade. She didn't want to change that now.

  With that resolve in mind, she got out of the van and locked the doors behind her. They didn't need to take two cars downtown, and Hunter's Jeep would be easier to park than her van. She'd leave it in front of the Holmans' house and pick it up later.

  As she got into Hunter's car, she heard him on the phone.

  "Thanks for the update," he said. "I'll let Cassidy know."

  "Let me know what?" she asked, as he set the phone down on the console between them. "Who were you talking to?"

  "Max. They're expecting to talk to Mrs. Faulkner within the hour."

  She was both thrilled and alarmed by that fact. She wanted Geralyn to be caught and punished, but she was afraid of what Geralyn would say as well as what she wouldn't say.

  "This is good, Cassidy."

  "I hope so. Did he say anything else?"

  "He spoke to Quan Tran. Quan teaches martial arts in San Rafael. He said he hasn't been in touch with the Faulkners since he was eighteen. He thought you and Tommy ran away together. But if someone in the house did kill Tommy, he thought it was probably Evan, Donald's brother. He said that Evan had pulled his son Colin and Tommy apart during some fight over a video game."

  "I don't remember that, although Colin did play a lot of video games, but Tommy didn't get into fights. He knew better than that. It would mean getting kicked out of the home."

  "Maybe he wanted to get kicked out of the home."

  "He probably would have wanted that if we hadn't been together. But he wouldn't have wanted to leave me there alone. We made a vow to stick together when Molly went missing." She paused. "David mentioned Evan to me, too, though. Something about him obviously bothered the boys."

  "Max said they're trying to track him down, but he and his son are apparently on a fishing trip this weekend. There is one other interesting tidbit—Quan is a volunteer firefighter." A gleam entered his eyes. "Who better to start a fire than someone who knows how to put it out?"

  "That's a leap. I don't know if I can see Quan as an arsonist. He was a quiet kid. He didn't speak much at all. He was like a turtle who was trying to hide under his shell. He was always looking down, almost afraid to make eye contact." As she spoke about Quan, she began to wonder if her defense was actually making Hunter's case. Quan had not been happy at the Faulkners'. Maybe he had chosen to retaliate years later. "I guess it is possible, though."

  Hunter shrugged. "It was just a thought. I don't know if his job is significant or not. Max also said that Quan was not surprised by the news; he'd already spoken to David before coming to the police station."

  "David must be calling all the kids."

  "Well, at least Quan. Were they close?"

  "I spent as little time as possible with the boys, especially after Molly disappeared, so I can't say. We can ask David tonight. In the meantime, do you know where we're going?"

  "Yes." He nodded toward the envelope on the console where he'd jotted down some addresses. "I found five possible jewelry stores. I thought we'd start downtown and then work our way back through North Beach, ending at the Marina where we'll be meeting David."

  "That's a good plan, very efficient." Hunter had always been good at making plans, whereas she'd been afraid to think too far into the future.

  "Hopefully, we'll find a clue."

  "Our chances are slightly worse than finding a needle in a haystack."

  "Ooh, now the glass is like a quarter full," he said dryly.

  She rolled her eyes. "Just calling it like I see it. Do you ever feel pessimistic, Hunter?"

  "I try not to let myself get to that point. If things are going bad, I'd rather try to change them than just be depressed."

  "What if you can't change them?"

  "Well, then I might take a shot of whiskey or more likely I'd get my bike and go for a really long ride."

  "Bicycle or motorcycle?"

  He shot her a smile. "Either. I like the bike for exercise, but a motorcycle was my trusted steed on my recent travels."

  "Why aren't we on the back of that motorcycle now?"

  "I traded it in for this Jeep when I got back."

  "Why?" she asked curiously.

  "The motorcycle was good for traveling; it's not as practical in real life."

  "And you're back
to real life."

  "Definitely," he said, a bit heavily.

  "Was it hard to return to firefighting after your accident?"

  "No, it was remarkably easy. It felt like I'd never left." He glanced over at her. "No one seems to accept that answer when I give it, though."

  "Like your family?"

  "Yes. They keep looking for some hidden problem. I can't totally blame them. While I was rehabbing, I decided to travel, and I didn't include anyone else in my plans. They didn't know I was even going until I texted them a group message to say I'd see them in a few months."

  "Seriously? You didn't talk to them before that? You're all so close."

  "I knew there would be questions, and I didn't feel like answering them."

  She thought about his answer. "Something was going on in your head that you didn't want to share. What was it?"

  Hunter didn't answer right away, concentrating for a moment on maneuvering through the crowded downtown streets. Then he said, "I was feeling restless. I needed to expand my world beyond the city, the family. I was on medical leave anyway; it seemed like a good time to go."

  "Did you have fun?"

  "I enjoyed myself," he said with a nod. "Every day was a new adventure. I saw things I couldn't have even imagined. Being in places where I didn't speak the language should have made me feel isolated, but in some ways, it forced me to get more in touch with myself. I had to be okay in my own company."

  "I'm not surprised you had the fearlessness to go on your own, but I'm a little surprised that you didn't take some people along with you. You've always had a lot of friends. You're like the center spoke in a wheel. People revolve around you."

  "I wouldn't say that, Cassidy."

  "It used to be that way."

  "That was high school. I'm not as popular now."

  With his charming grin coming at her, she didn't think that was true at all.

  "I wasn't lonely," he continued. "I made friends along the way. I had conversations I wouldn't have had if I'd been with friends. I'm very glad I did it. It was good to be on my own for an extended period of time. I realized how I had gone from one thing to the next without ever taking a minute to think about it."

  She cocked her head, casting him a thoughtful look as she considered his words. She didn't want to be like his family and go looking for some hidden problem, but maybe his family wasn't wrong, because there was something in his tone… "What conclusions did you come to? Did you decide to make some big changes in your life?"

  He gave her a quick, somewhat ironic smile. "No. I'm doing exactly the same thing I was doing before, at least temporarily."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I don't have a permanent job at the moment. I'm filling in for another firefighter who is on medical leave. When he comes back in six weeks, I'll have to make another decision as to whether I want to take a permanent job or do something else entirely."

  "What would you do?" she asked curiously.

  "I have no idea. That's the problem. I'm conflicted. Firefighting is in my blood. But…"

  "But," she prodded when he fell silent.

  "I don't know if it's in my heart. And I can't believe I just said that out loud. Because I haven't said that to anyone."

  She was touched by that admission. "Well, I'm not your family and I don't really care if you're a firefighter or not, so maybe that made it easier to say out loud."

  "Maybe. I don't want to say that the last decade of my life has been for nothing. I don't want to feel like I've wasted years being a firefighter. But there's a hole inside of me, and the job isn't filling it. But then I wonder if any job would fill it. Maybe I want too much."

  "You always did want a lot." She gave him a small smile. "Your optimism tends to generate a lot of ideas."

  He smiled back at her. "That's true. I've had a lot of different dreams—travel photographer, professional cyclist."

  "A cyclist?"

  "Definitely. I thought I could probably win the Tour de France if I put some effort into it," he joked.

  "Well, sure. And you would have looked good in the spandex shorts."

  "I would have looked good," he agreed with a cocky grin.

  "You could still do photography. What happened to that camera your mom gave you in high school? We used to take it out every weekend and shoot all over the city."

  "It's probably in a box in my closet. I haven't used it in a long time, probably not since you left."

  She felt a little sad at that thought. "That's too bad. You used to love taking pictures."

  "I loved taking pictures of you," he corrected. "Without my favorite subject, it wasn't nearly as much fun."

  "So, getting back to your career choices—"

  He groaned. "Let's not get back to those. Let's talk about you. How do you like living in Half Moon Bay?"

  "I love it. It has a small-town vibe that's charming, and I know a lot of shop owners now, so it feels like I'm seeing family when I go to town. George has a golden retriever named Boomer, who loves to walk on the sand with me. I do that with him a lot."

  "Just you and the dog? No men in the picture?"

  "Not at the moment." She left it at that, not willing to share that there hadn't been anyone in a very long time. "What about you? Any women in the picture?"

  "Not at the moment," he said, echoing her words.

  Silence followed. They'd ventured into dangerous territory by acknowledging their single, available status, and she was very glad to see Hunter turn in to the parking lot under Union Square. They'd shared enough personal information for the time being.

  As they got out of the car and walked toward the elevator, she said, "I still think this is going to be a wild-goose chase."

  "I'd rather be chasing a goose than sitting around waiting for the police to figure things out."

  "I suppose it is better than that. I really wonder what Geralyn is going to tell them. I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up under the bus."

  "Finding Molly or someone who knows what happened to her would be a good way to get you out from under that bus," he reminded her.

  She wanted to prove him wrong and think positively for a change, but it seemed like it would take a miracle to track down Molly now.

  * * *

  Two hours into their hunt for a clue to Molly Bennett, Hunter was beginning to feel some of his earlier eagerness fade. They'd visited four jewelry stores in the downtown area. They'd seen a lot of expensive stones and shiny diamonds but very little turquoise. They'd had no better luck at two stores in North Beach and were now walking back to the car before heading to the Marina and the final store on their list.

  He knew it had been a long shot, but he'd really wanted to take some kind of positive action, and he'd also wanted to spend time with Cassidy. That part had been fun. She'd been a pretty good sport, even though he knew she was fighting her pessimism just to prove him wrong.

  "Wait," she said suddenly, grabbing his arm.

  "What?"

  She pointed to the hill in front of them, to the steep, winding stairs that went from the bottom to the top. "Those are the steps, aren't they? The ones they call a thousand steps to heaven. We could never find them. Remember? We kept getting lost. But here they are." Excitement lit up her brown eyes. "Let's go up."

  There was no way he was saying no to that suggestion, especially not when her hand slid down his arm and her fingers wrapped around his.

  She was so caught up in the steps, she probably wasn't aware of what she was doing, but he certainly was.

  They jogged across the street, pausing at the bottom of the stairway, where a very old engraved sign said the stairs were dedicated to the dreamers, to those who were willing to pursue their goals, no matter how high or how far away they might be.

  "This sounds a little too optimistic for you," he teased. "Now, if the stairs were going down into the darkness, the depths of—"

  "Stop," she said. "I want to go up. Although, it's a lot of stairs."

&n
bsp; "The view will be amazing."

  "I hope I'm in shape for this."

  "You can do it. I'll be right behind you. If you stumble, I'll catch you. And if you need a push, I'll push you."

  She stared back at him, an odd glint in her eyes. "It's not right that you always have to take care of me."

  "Are you kidding me? All I ever wanted to do was take care of you, but you wouldn't tell me what your problems were."

  She frowned. "Fair point. But while I didn't tell you about problems at home, you still took care of me when we went out. You never left me alone at a party. You helped me get through calculus. You carried me to the car when I cut my foot on glass at the beach."

  Her words took him back in time. "That's true."

  "See? I did let you help me sometimes. But I don't remember a time when I helped you."

  He thought about that. "You listened. You didn't judge. No idea was too crazy. You made me think I could do anything."

  "Me—little old pessimistic me?"

  He liked that they could laugh together again. Even though Cassidy had been shy around groups of people, she'd been much more outgoing with him, and she'd always had a quick wit. They had laughed as often as they'd kissed—well, maybe not quite that often, but still a lot.

  "Why don't we go up together, side-by-side?" he suggested. "The stairs are wide enough."

  "I like that."

  They headed up the steps. Cassidy started to breathe a little hard about three-quarters of the way up the hill, but she didn't complain; she just put her head down and kept going.

  Fitness was part of his job, so he had no trouble with the stairs, but he did have trouble trying not to get caught up in the wonderfulness of the woman by his side. While it was nice to remember their good times, he really shouldn't let himself forget the bad times. Wasn't that just asking for more problems?

  "Almost there," Cassidy said breathlessly, pushing herself up the last few steps.

  The top of the hill offered a bench and an incredible view of the city—from the ocean at the west to the Golden Gate Bridge, Angel's Island, and Alcatraz, and then off to the east—the Bay Bridge, the Berkeley and Oakland Hills.

  "This is amazing," she said. "Totally worth the effort."