by Ruth Langan
She shook her head.
“Good. I want my people to do a thorough exam before you clean up this mess.”
Courtney looked around feeling sick at the thought of so many people going through her things. “You don’t think this was just teen vandals?”
“I hope so. The fact that they avoided your shop is a good sign. Whoever did this didn’t know enough about alarms to take a chance. But I take it as a personal insult that anyone in this town would think they can get away with this more than once.” He patted her arm. “This is going to take a couple of hours, Courtney.”
She nodded. “I understand.” As he started away she said, “Would you mind if I went along with you to the Colby cottage?”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I have to assume, from the timing of your calls, that you and Colby were together tonight.”
“That’s right.” Aware of the knowing looks that passed between the mayor and police chief, she trailed behind them as they walked across the backyard that separated her place from Blair’s.
Inside, the vandalism was much more severe than hers had been.
“Oh, Blair.” She felt such a wave of sadness at the sight of all his aunt’s belongings littering the floor.
He touched a hand to her shoulder. “Detective Connell tells me that they got a call about your place, too. How bad was it?”
“Not as bad as this. But bad enough. The chief wants me to leave everything alone until his crew has had time to go over it.”
“Same here.”
Just then one of the police officers herded a young man and woman onto Blair’s porch.
Courtney turned. “Kendra? What are you doing here?”
The young girl was holding tightly to her boyfriend’s hand. “I don’Court. One minute Eddie and I were looking in the window of Treasures, and the next we were being hauled here.”
The chief stepped out onto the porch. “What were you doing hanging around Ms. Brennan’s shop at this hour?”
The girl looked helplessly at Courtney before explaining. “We were walking through town with our ice cream, and I wanted to show my boyfriend one of those goofy gargoyles we have in the shop window. If the light hits it a certain way, you can see its heart beating.”
“Uh-huh.” Chief Thompson was studying Eddie’s spiked hair and fringed cowboy jacket. “You sure you didn’t want to do more than look?”
Kendra glanced from the police chief to Courtney. “What’s that supposed to mean? Court, we were just passing by and—”
Courtney turned to the chief. “Kendra works for me.”
“Uh-huh.” He pinned the two young people with a stare meant to intimidate. “Kind of late to be window shopping. Do your folks know where you are?”
Though Kendra’s eyes widened, she tossed her head with what she hoped was a look of defiance. “Are you going to arrest us?”
Chief Thompson gave a hiss of disgust. “Not tonight. But my officer will take your names and home phone numbers. And if everything you said doesn’t check out, your folks will be hearing from me.”
Courtney watched as the police officer led the two young people to a squad car, where he began writing. Because she couldn’t bear to see the vandalism, she remained on the porch with Blair.
After following the police officers through the rooms of the cottage, the mayor stepped out onto the porch. “Chief Thompson says they’ll be a couple of hours. I told him I’d be taking the two of you to the Daisy Diner. I’m sure some coffee would be welcome.”
Courtney was shaking her head. “That’s not necessary, Wade.”
“I know it’s not. But it’s the least I can do.” With his hand beneath her elbow he began steering her toward his car, with Blair reluctantly following.
As they settled into the back seat, Blair closed a hand over Courtney’s. “You okay?”
“Fine. You?”
“Other than being mad as hell?”
That brought a smile to her lips. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
“I can see kids vandalizing an empty cottage, but now that it’s obviously occupied, I don’t get it. What’s the fascination about Sarah’s cottage?”
Courtney shook her head. “I don’t have a clue. And why my place? And why now? In the year I’ve been here, this is the first time anything like this has happened.”
The mayor, watching them in the rearview mirror, drove along the darkened streets until he parked in front of the cozy diner. Inside they were greeted with the sizzle and snap of burgers and the comforting smell of onions on the grill.
As soon a were seated in a booth Carrie Lester hurried over to take their order.
“Hi, Courtney. Mayor Bentley.” She stared pointedly at Blair. “You Sarah Colby’s nephew?”
He looked surprised. “How did you know?”
She merely laughed. “Not too many secrets in Devil’s Cove. What’ll you have?”
“Just coffee, please.”
“Same for me,” Courtney added.
“Make it three,” Wade Bentley told her.
“Right.” Carrie hurried away and returned minutes later with their coffee.
As she poured, Courtney caught her hand to admire the glittering diamond ring that adorned the third finger of her left hand. “Prentice has excellent taste. In diamonds and women. Congratulations, Carrie.”
“Thanks.” The young woman hesitated.
“Everyone’s been so nice. I was afraid…”
“Of what?” The mayor demanded.
She shrugged, her cheeks growing pink. “That some folks might not approve of Prentice marrying a waitress from the Daisy Diner.”
“That’s silly.” Courtney placed a hand over Carrie’s. “You two make the perfect couple. He’s only been in love with you since high school.”
“I know. Isn’t that just the sweetest thing?”
She ducked her head and hurried away.
When she was gone, Wade Bentley cleared his throat. “A shame about these vandals. Not a very nice welcome for Sarah Colby’s kin.”
Blair shrugged. “I suppose it’s a sign of the times. There’s no getting away from crime anymore.”
The mayor turned to Courtney. “You think it could have been those two kids the police stopped?”
Courtney bit her lip. “I can’t believe it of Kendra. I think she and her boyfriend were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I hope you’re right.” The mayor studied Blair over the rim of his cup. “You sure you don’t have something somebody wants?”
Blair’s head came up. “Like what?”
Wade stirred more sugar into his coffee and tasted. “Maybe Sarah left something of value.”
“Other than the land and her little cottage, which she acquired more than fifty years ago, my aunt left nothing of value that I know of.”
“How can you be sure? Maybe she had a few skeletons in her closet.”
“Aunt Sarah?” Blair laughed. “She may have been tough and stern, but she lived her life to a high moral code. She was the most righteous woman I’ve ever known.”
The mayor gave a grunt that might have been agreement or disapproval. “Shgh. And efficient. Kept records of everything. My father used to say she kept better records than the FBI.”
He lowered his voice and he looked around to make certain no one could overhear him. “That’s what makes me think she might have left something that somebody would want.”
“You mean like some sort of written documents?”
“Or letters. Maybe a journal. Do you know if she kept one?”
Blair frowned. “When I was a boy she used to write regularly in something she called her journal. I don’t know if it was a personal diary, or just a log of things she wanted to remember. It was some sort of leather-bound ledger. But I haven’t seen it in years. When I was here for the funeral, it wasn’t among her papers.”
The mayor leaned closer. “Maybe she put it into storage for safekeeping.”
Blair thought
a moment before shaking his head. “If she had, she’d have left a record of it. It was plain that she’d known for some time that she was dying, because she had everything in order and properly filed with her law firm. If she still had the ledger, I’m sure it would have been with her other documents. If you knew my aunt, you’d know that she was a stickler for records.”
The mayor nodded thoughtfully. “Unless it contained things she didn’t want to become public knowledge. Then she might have decided to conceal it.”
Blair sipped. “What would be the point of writing something unless she expected it to be read?”
When Carrie approached with the pot of coffee to offer refills, Courtney refused. “Thanks, Carrie.” She turned to Wade Bentley. “I really need to get back now.”
Blair nodded in agreement. “I’m sure by now the police will have done what they needed to do.”
The three exited the diner and drove the entire way back in silence. When they reached Courtney’s shop, Chief Thompson was standing with his deputies by the back door.
He walked over to the mayor’s car and leaned in the open window. “No prints. Looks like they wore gloves.”
Blair sat forward. “So it wasn’t just teens passing by and looking for a little fun.”
“It doesn’t appear to be. But I’ll be darned if I can figure out what this is about. It’s almost as if somebody was systematically searching for something.” He fixed Blair with a look. “You have any ideas about this?”
Blair gave a sigh. “The mayor just asked the same thing. But I don’t have any answers.”
As he and Courtney climbed out of the mayor’s car, the chief stepped back. “Okay. Try to get some sleep. If you think of something, anything, no matter how trivial, give me a call.”
“I will, Chief.” Blair watched as the mayor drove away, followed by the police chief and his deputies.
When they were alone, he turned to Courtney. “Come on. I’ll go inside with you.”
“There’s no need to do.” She stepped inside, her hand on the door.
Before she could close it in his face he swept past her. “Humor me.”
Leaving her no time to argue, he led the way up the stairs and studied the mess. Without a word he began picking up the books and magazines that had been strewn across the floor.
“Blair, it’s late. I can do that in the morning.”
He turned to her with a look that said, more than words, that he wasn’t about to be swayed from his mission.
With a sigh she took the items from his hands and began returning them to shelves and cabinets. In less than an hour the apartment had been restored to order.
“Now try to get some sleep, Courtney.”
As he started toward the stairs, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Sorry. Now it’s your turn.”
At his arched brow she picked up her keys. “What’s sauce for the goose…”
“It’s late.”
“That was my line, remember?” She strode ahead of him and held the door, then locked it when he stepped outside. Pocketing the keys, she closed a hand around his arm and moved along beside him as they picked their way in the darkness.
When they reached his cottage, she couldn’t hold back the little gasp at the mess, made worse by the police investigation. It was so much worse than hers had been. Without a word she began gathering up the books and handing them to him as he replaced them on shelves.
When they’d finished in the living room they moved on to the bedroom.
“So many books,” she said with a sigh as she began picking them up.
“They were my aunt’s passion. I can’t remember a single day when she wasn’t reading. Except when she was writing in that ledger.”
“You said that’s when you used to go exploring.”
He accepted another armload of books from her and began arranging them on a shelf. “Yeah. Aunt Sarah used to get so lost in her journal, she wouldn’t miss me for hours.”
Courtney paused. “Where did she keep it?”
He pointed to the small desk across the room. “That’s where she used to sit when she was writing in it. But I don’t recall ever seeing it lying around.”
“Curious. Maybe she kept it in one of the desk drawers.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I wouldn’t know. I never went through my aunt’s things when I was a boy.”
“What about now? Have you looked for it?”
Blair shook his head. “Until the mayor mentioned it, I’d forgotten all about that journal.” Though he looked skeptical, he opened both desk drawers, finding them empty.
He glanced over at Courtney. “You don’t really think somebody would go to all this trouble for an old diary, do
“You said yourself that Sarah spent a lot of time writing in it. Could there be something in that journal that might prove embarrassing for someone?”
“I don’t know. But since the place was ransacked before I even got here, the thieves would have had plenty of opportunity to find it and destroy it, if that’s what they were after. So why would they come back for another look?”
“Why, indeed? Unless they didn’t find it the first time, and thought you might have brought it with you.”
Blair swore under his breath. “I hope you’re right.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Why?”
“Because if that’s the case, now that they’ve had a second look, they have to know that there is no journal. And maybe they’ll leave this place alone.”
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s nearly three in the morning. Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
As they started across the yard he dropped an arm around her shoulders. When she didn’t flinch he found himself smiling. “Maybe some good can come from this after all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t find me as repulsive as you did when we first met.”
“How do you know?”
“You didn’t push me away just then.”
“Maybe I’m just too tired.”
“Maybe.” They paused outside her door. He tipped up her chin. “Mind if I try an experiment?”
Before she could reply he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, long and slow and deep.
When he finally lifted his head to stare down into her eyes, his voice was rough. “It just happened again.”
“What happened?”
“The ground tilted. The sky revolved. One kiss, and my whole world turned upside down. The last time, I was so confused, I was halfway inside my cottage before I realized it had been vandalized.”
She managed a quick laugh. “You poor baby.” She laid a hand on his cheek. “You really need to get some sleep.”
His hands tightened at her shoulders, and he dragged her close before again taking her mouth with his. This time, as his lips moved over hers, she gave a sudden intake of breath before feeling her head spin. Needs she hadn’t even known existed simmered just below the surface, threatening to scald her. She clutched blindly at his waist and held on as he pressed her back against the door and kissed her until she was trembling.
When at last he drew a little away, he watched her struggle for breath.
His voice was deep with suppressed passion. “Maybe what we both need is sleep. But I’d sleep a whole lot better if you’d invite me up to share your bed.”
“Sorry.” She couldn’t believe how hard it was to speak. “I sleep alone.”
“Too bad. It could have been memorable.” He gave her one last smoldering glance before turning away.
She waited until her hands had stopped shaking before attempting to unlock her door. All the way up the stairs she chided herself for being so hasty. Maybe a memorable night with Blair would have been just the thing to chase away the lingering fears from the break-in.
Still, she didn’t think her heart was ready for another battering. Especially if the night proved to be a little too…memorable. The better choice would be to keep on
avoiding him until his job here was done. When Blair Colby left Devil’s Cove, as she knew he would, she wanted no regrets. And no more heartache.
Chapter 7
Blair carried his coffee outside and was treated to the sight of a family of ducks swimming by as he settled himself on the end of the dock. He’d expected to sleep late, and was still cursing his inner clock for waking him so early. Not that he minded, given the view. He found himself charmed by the gentle lap of water against the shore, the croak of bullfrogs, the shadow of a huge turtle cruising just below the surface.
Far out on the lake were the morning fishermen, casting their lines, dreaming of the big catch. On the horizon were the familiar white sails as sailboats danced across the waves.
It was a scene he’d carried in his heart since boyhood. Summer in Devil’s Cove. Here, despite his aunt’s stern rules and no-nonsense approach to life, he’d found refuge from the regimen of tough private schools, and a reprieve from the constant tug-of-war between his parents. After a lifetime of soul-searching, he’d come to terms with the battleground that had been their marriage. He’d accepted each of them and their many spouses with, if not love, at least affection. Still, the scars remained. He shied away from long-term relationships. Whenever a woman started thinking about a white gown and happily-ever-after, he preferred to wave to her image in his rearview mirror. He didn’t mean to be cynical. But it was only fair to a woman to admit that constancy wasn’t a Colby trait, considering his gene pool.
Was that why his aunt had never married? She’d never talked to him about his parents, nor, he realized, about herself. It occurred to him that he never really knew his aunt Sarah at all. She’d kept her secrets to herself, revealing nothing to the boy to whom she opened her home but never her heart.
What was it she’d written in that journal? If her daily discipline had been any indication, she’d been driven to fill the pages. But with what? From the little he’d seen of her life, it had been one of dull routine.
Still, she was, he supposed, well positioned to write the history of Devil’s Cove. After retiring as secretary to the governor, she’d served as secretary to the Library Association, the Chamber of Commerce, the Zoning Board and the City Council. There were few in town she didn’t know personally. And because of her quiet way of listening, many of those who knew her even slightly found themselves opening up to her. That would have given her ample opportunity to learn a great many secrets. But the very privat he knew wouldn’t have been comfortable writing such things in a journal and leaving it behind for all to read.