No Ordinary Summer

by Linda Barrett

  Alone? And lonely? His vibrant Nikki? Never! Daniel looked the old man in the eye. “Point well taken, counselor.”

  “You were on your way. Just wanted to speed things up.”

  Funny that a fairly bright, educated guy like him needed someone else to point the way. Intellect wasn’t enough. Dan had understood all along that his life would have to return to normal in the fullest sense…at some point. But emotionally, he just couldn’t face it. Until now. Until he’d come to Pilgrim Cove.

  “I’m glad Sea View House was available this summer, Bart Quinn. Very glad.”

  The Realtor grunted and chewed his pipe stem.

  DANIEL SLEPT long and hard that night, and woke up with Shelley on his mind. The sun was higher in the sky than usual when he started his day, and he leaned back to savor the unaccustomed luxury of sleeping late. For about a minute. His stomach growled, and Jess cocked her head and barked. Dan jumped out of bed.

  A minute later, he grabbed the leash and jogged downstairs intending to walk Jess along Beach Street and then return home. Parked in front of the house were Bart’s Lincoln and the chief’s Jeep. Dan glanced at his watch. Still early for visiting, unless there was a reason.

  Jess took care of business quickly, and Dan headed back to the house. He met Josh in the driveway.

  “My mom wants to know if you can come to our house now. The chief and Mr. Quinn are here so something’s going on, but I don’t know what.” The boy’s expression became resigned. “Something always seems to be happening lately. But mostly not good things. And I don’t know why.”

  Daniel wrapped his arm around Josh’s shoulders. “There’s a good thing happening later today for you. Baseball practice.”

  The kid brightened a bit.

  “You’ve got some friends now,” said Daniel, “and you’ll make more.”

  “Can I hold Jessie’s leash?”

  Easy distraction. “Sure,” said Dan, handing it over, “but we’re going inside. So it’s a short walk.”

  Josh grinned. “That’s okay. Next time, you’ll let me hold her longer.”

  Dan chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’ve got me figured out, huh?”

  They walked around the back and found the adults gathered on the deck. Bart Quinn, Rick O’Brien, Shelley’s parents and Shelley.

  “Morning, everyone,” said Daniel, looking at Shelley and not liking the worried look on her face. “What’s going on?”

  Shelley shrugged. “Not sure yet. I offered these guys a cup of coffee, but they turned me down. So I guess this isn’t a social visit.”

  Bart coughed. “Actually, Rick needs to tell you something. All of you.”

  Daniel glanced at the retired officer. “Hang on a sec.” He sought out Shelley’s son, who stood quietly against the door with Jessie. Big eyes and big ears. “Hey, Josh. How’d you like to practice walking Jess on the leash. Say from Sea View House to our left-side neighbor and back.”

  Easy-to-read conflict showed on the boy’s face. He wanted to take Jess, but he wanted to know what was going on. Dan approached the child and squatted to his eye level. “Everything’s cool, Josh. I promise.”

  He held his breath waiting for Josh’s response. The kid had gotten to him, and now Dan cared whether Josh trusted him.

  “Okay.”

  “Way to go, Josh,” said Daniel, giving the boy a hug. “And if she’s thirsty when you come back, I’ll show you how to use the hose on the side of the house. I keep a bowl there all the time.”

  Josh nodded. “I know.” He rubbed the dog’s neck. “Come on, Jess. We’re going for a walk.”

  The golden looked at Daniel in query. “It’s okay, girl. At heel with Josh.” He bent down to pet her. “Easy walk, Jess.” He watched the two step off the deck, go through the backyard and onto the beach. Then he turned to the others and stepped closer to Shelley, who offered him a tremulous smile.

  “Thank you. I wouldn’t have thought to distract him right now.”

  “Don’t think twice about it,” said Dan. “You’re caught up in a lot of responsibility, and I’ve got some distance. That’s all.” He looked at Rick O’Brien. “So, what’s on your mind?”

  “When I was on active duty,” began the former chief, “I got to know a number of Boston cops. Sometimes because of cases, or regional trainings, or even target practice. One of them, who’s retired now, has been hanging around lately. Saw him in town last week and ran into him again yesterday at the harbor. Carries a fancy camera with lots of lenses.” Rick paused and scratched his head. “The thing is,” he said slowly, “he asked me about Sea View House. And Shelley, in particular.”

  Daniel heard Shelley’s murmured “Oh, no.” She shook her head for emphasis, and her rich auburn hair shimmered as it rose and fell back into its sleek cap. Her face turned three shades paler than normal, and he put his arm around her.

  “Carl’s behind this. I just know it,” Shelley said with conviction, as she leaned against him. “He threatened to see me in court, and now he’s looking for a reason. He actually hired a spy! And…oh, my God!” She jumped away from Dan, her arms moving as she spoke. “What if the guy was on the beach yesterday when Emily…Emily…and wh-what if—?”

  “And what if he wasn’t?” Dan reached for her again, his arms tightening around her. “Carl may be behind it. But let’s get more information.” He spoke quietly. “Hang on, Shel. You’re not alone here.”

  Rick cleared his throat. “The spy has a license. Had it checked out by one of my buddies about—” he glanced at his watch “—an hour ago. It’s not so unusual. Lots of retired cops start another career as private investigators.”

  “So, what does this mean? Are my grandchildren at risk here?” Phil Duffy looked at his daughter. “Shelley, is he trying to take them?”

  “Hold on, everyone,” said Dan. “A swimming accident could have happened if Shelley and Carl were still married. No one is taking anyone anywhere!”

  “And the pictures?” asked the ex-cop.

  “Pictures of what? Shelley is divorced. She is entitled to have friends. Including male friends. So the P.I. will get pictures of us eating a barbecue dinner. Or walking on the beach. Or walking the dog. Nothing in our everyday lives warrants censure.”

  The small crowd broke into chatter, the tone a lot brighter, and Dan released his own breath. In his heart, he wanted to break Carl Anderson’s jaw. In fact, his fingers flexed against his side just itching to connect. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the need for a visceral release.

  He turned Shelley to face him. “I don’t want you to worry about anything. This whole business is nonsense.”

  “Oh, Daniel.” She averted her eyes, and his heart almost stopped beating. “I’m so sorry that you’re subjected to this whole thing. To this intrusion in your life.”

  He reached up, stroked her cheek. “I think I’ve needed an intrusion in my life.”

  She chuckled. “But not this kind!”

  “I can handle it.”

  She looked away again, her eyes on the gleaming Atlantic. “Maybe you can, but I can’t if Carl gets his way. He’s very connected. What if he pays someone off? What if he takes those innocent pictures and doctors them with a computer? What if…?”

  “And what if the earth stops spinning? What if people sprouted wings?” He touched his forehead to hers. “Shelley, honey, you’re worrying for nothing.”

  “Daniel’s right,” said Bart Quinn. “Listen to him. You’re in Pilgrim Cove. And we take care of our own.”

  “You bet we do,” seconded Rick. “In fact, I think I’ll have a word with my old acquaintance.” He rubbed his hands together. “I can still speak to him cop to cop…and let him know how we operate here.”

  Neither of their suggestions would do much good, thought Shelley, but their hearts were in the right place.

  “Hear that, Shel?” asked Dan. “What more could you need?”

  “Well, I might need a very smart lawyer.” Her eye
s began to twinkle and a smile slowly emerged.

  “Would the entire faculty of Harvard law suffice?” Daniel replied.

  Finally, her face glowed, her laughter rang out and she became the woman he’d first fallen for. Strong, happy, energetic. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Josh leading Jessie back to the house, talking to her nonstop. Then he heard a soft bark and started to chuckle.

  “What are you all laughing at?” asked Josh, coming up the steps. He looked at the assembled adults and started to grin. “How come Jessie and I miss all the fun?”

  SHELLEY STOOD at home plate later that afternoon watching her team, Parker Plumbing, run the bases. A group of twelve kids had shown up at the field behind Pilgrim Cove Junior High, including Bart’s great-granddaughter, Katie Sullivan, and her new friend, Sara Fielding. Two girls and ten boys. All full of energy and eager for the summer season.

  Lila Sullivan had dropped Katie and Casey off at the school, waved to Shelley and disappeared. Adam Fielding, the town’s new veterinarian, along with several other parents, decided to hang around for the first practice. Some of the parents were snapping pictures of this small milestone in their kids’ lives. It would be difficult for Shelley to make a fuss at the older camera-wielding gentleman sitting in the bleachers, who fit the description of the P.I. Rick O’Brien had given them. He could very well have been someone’s grandfather—except he didn’t introduce himself as the other parents had.

  She shrugged, determined to put the man out of her mind, and watched the team complete its lap. The children were adorable, and if she had her way, she’d hug and kiss every one of them just for showing up to play. And Josh would kill her. She watched her son as he ran in from third base, eyes shining, face set. Baseball was serious business.

  She glanced behind the backstop where Emily had spread her crayons and coloring book out on the lowest bench of the graduated bleachers. Jessie stood next to her, and Shelley was satisfied her daughter would be well protected. As she turned back to the players, Dan jogged toward her from the infield, where he’d been observing the kids run.

  “Okay, team,” said Shelley. “Today’s a skill practice day, so we’re going to do some field work. Get your gloves.”

  As the kids scrambled for their gloves, she murmured, “Maybe I should have said that we’re going to shag some flies.”

  Dan stopped in his tracks. “Shag some flies?”

  “It was in the book.”

  His warm laughter raised her body temperature. And when his eyes shone with desire, she wanted to dissolve in his arms.

  Click. Click.

  Shelley stiffened. Daniel blinked, but barely. “Let’s go, but no shagging. The kids are too small.”

  “Throw the ball easy, Daniel. They’re so little.”

  “Woman, didn’t I just say that?” he teased. “Did you think I’d fire it in at ninety miles an hour? Besides, the kids will be throwing, too. So maybe you should worry about me!”

  Ten minutes later, she understood. Some had no control over the ball, and their throws went wild. Some had control but couldn’t catch. And some watched the ball sail past them without moving to get it.

  “You’re doing great, team,” she called. “We just need a little practice.”

  “Coach,” said Dan, nodding at the kids. “Do you mind if I give a few directions now?”

  “If you can help them not to hurt themselves, go right ahead.”

  Dan turned to the kids. “Listen up, everybody. And learn. First rule of throwing—step in the direction of where you’re throwing and follow through. Step and follow. Get your legs into it. Put your weight behind it. Step and follow. Let’s try it without a ball right now.”

  He demonstrated and they imitated.

  “And when you catch, use two hands, not only the gloved one.” Daniel again demonstrated the motion. “Get both hands up and don’t be afraid. Now, let’s try it for real. Everybody get a partner.”

  He turned to Shelley. “They need adults throwing to them, and I’ve got an idea. Keep them going.”

  In two minutes, Daniel returned with the photographer from the bleachers. “George has agreed to help out. Has a grandson who plays Little League in Boston. Loves baseball.”

  “Uh…th-thanks.” Shelley could barely get the words out, didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at the man the former chief had told them about. She didn’t understand what Daniel was up to. Maybe his tactic was to know the enemy. Maybe he didn’t believe she had a real problem and was making light of it for her sake.

  Shelley had believed that coaching a team would be a summer challenge. She hadn’t realized baseball would be easier than the game Carl was playing with her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  FOR INFORMATION, Daniel could think of no better place to go than to the diner on any morning of the week. He could always count on the ROMEOs to know what was happening in Pilgrim Cove. And as a bonus, he’d also enjoy a delicious breakfast.

  George Delaney, the P.I., hadn’t been around since the baseball practice two days before, and now Daniel wanted to check in with Rick O’Brien before returning to the university the next morning. Returning reluctantly. Working from home this week had been a pleasure. More to the point, being with Shelley and the kids had been great.

  He approached the reserved table in the back of the eatery, surprised to see Pearl Goodman there with her husband, Lou. Usually, breakfast was a man thing. He also raised his brows at Brian and Casey Parker sitting on either side of their grandpa Sam. As Dan got closer, his surprise changed to concern. Not a smile lit any of the faces around the table. Even Bart’s “Good morning” was subdued.

  A murmur of quiet greeting followed.

  “If I’m intruding…”

  “No, no,” said the former chief. “You and I need to talk. But first…” He nodded at Sam.

  Dan pulled out a chair and sat, noting a glossy flier in the middle of the table in front of Sam Parker. The man’s trembling fingers slid back and forth over the print, stroking it as though the paper were something to be either feared or loved.

  Bart spoke. “Pearl and Lou flew out west to see their daughter in Kansas, and then went on to California. Just came back yesterday. They saw this announcement at their hotel and brought it home.” Bart pointed to the shiny yellow-and-black print.

  Appearing in the Starlight Lounge

  Our piano man for three nights

  J. J. Parks

  Hot or cool—the keyboard’s his tool

  Hearing is believing

  A shadowy picture of a man sitting at a stylized grand piano illustrated the announcement.

  “We were just showing it to Sam,” said Pearl. “We think that this J. J. Parks is really Jason Parker. Sam’s younger son. And a solid musician—the best in the musical Parker family.”

  Dan realized that Matt and Laura were still on their honeymoon. Sam was alone with the boys, but surrounded by friends.

  “Of course, we don’t know this piano man’s identity for sure,” said Lou. “We never saw him. We arrived the day after his last appearance.”

  “But we spoke to the manager of the hotel,” added Pearl. She reached for Sam’s hand. “You know we wouldn’t just ignore this.”

  Sam nodded. “Of course,” he replied, his voice gravelly.

  “But the manager didn’t know where J. J. Parks was going next,” said Pearl. “We bought the local newspapers hoping he’d be appearing at another hotel. But we didn’t see any advertisements. So we asked the manager how he’d hired J. J. Parks, thinking we could contact his agent if he had one. No luck there, either. Seems our hotel manager heard the piano player in another club and hired him on the spot. But the man would only commit to three days. Said he didn’t like staying long in one place.” Pearl sat back in her chair and shook her head. She had nothing more to say.

  “Grandpa’s crying!” Brian’s voice shook, his face was white and Casey started crying, too.

  “It’s my Jason,” said Sam, looki
ng around the table, ignoring the tears running down his face. “I know it is. Can’t you see what he’s done? Look at those initials! J.J. That’s for ‘Jason’ and ‘Jared.’ He’s been carrying his brother around inside since the day he left home.”

  Daniel didn’t understand everything, but he recognized love and pain. He turned to Rick O’Brien. “So instead of watching Sea View House, why don’t we send your old acquaintance out of town to search for Jason Parker?”

  “No!” Sam banged his fist on the table. The entire back of the diner fell silent. “No,” he repeated quietly, in control once more. “He’ll come home when he’s ready to stop running.”

  “Running from what?” asked Daniel.

  For a moment, no one seemed able to speak. Perhaps no one wanted to speak. Not Sam, whose lips were now pressed together. Not Bart, whose mouth was quivering. Not Lou, who sighed deeply.

  It was Pearl who finally answered, and Dan found himself thinking that women probably were the stronger sex after all.

  “Jason is running from guilt,” said Pearl. “He blames himself for the death of his twin brother in a car accident on the night of their high-school prom. Every parent’s nightmare. But he doesn’t understand that no one at this table blames him. Especially not his dad.”

  Sam held the flier out to Bart. “You want to give this to Lila?”

  Bart said nothing for a moment, then nodded his head. “My daughter would kill me if she knew,” he said, taking the piece of paper. “Maggie wants Lila to get on with her life. Not hold on to the past.”

  “And what do you think?” asked Pearl.

  “I think,” replied the Realtor slowly and deliberately, “that Lila has to come to that decision herself.”

  Dan watched Bart’s hand reach for Sam’s. Suddenly, the two old men clasped each other with the strength of younger men.