Their waiter whipped together their guacamole and set it on the table with fresh, warm chips. Julius helped himself. Their table was pleasant, shaded by potted trees. Deep pink bougainvillea cascaded over a wall.
Finally he said, “Dylan and Noah are decent guys.”
“Yes, I know.”
“They’re independent. Defiant, even. They do things their own way.”
“What’s Phoebe O’Dunn like?” Loretta asked.
“From what I saw and heard, she’s smart, positive, encouraging and genuinely nice.”
“And?”
“And protective of her family. She looks out for them.”
“Who looks out for her?”
“She’d say they look out for each other. Maybe they do, but she’s stuck there.”
“Maybe your idea of ‘stuck’ is her idea of fulfilling herself.”
“That was before Noah Kendrick spotted her at that masquerade ball. Getting involved with a billionaire...” Julius shrugged. “Easier to fall for one of the local firefighters but she hasn’t. She’ll sacrifice herself if she thinks her family needs her. She’s done it before.”
Before Loretta could ask more questions, Noah arrived and joined them at their table. He was centered, focused and clearly on a mission. He was a man, she knew, who did best when he had a purpose, a result he was going after. Aimlessness didn’t suit him.
Julius picked up his beer, took another deliberate sip. “How’s Sleepy Hollow and your librarian? Same as ever?”
Noah leveled a cool gaze on him. “Phoebe is getting ready for the vintage fashion show at the library. You know about that, right, Julius?”
“I saw something about it when I was in Knights Bridge.”
“You knew about the fashion show before you arrived there. It’s what prompted you to check me out in the first place.”
Loretta frowned and noticed that Julius had gone silent. She glanced at Noah, but his gaze was fixed on the older man across from him.
Noah reached for his water glass. “It was logical to assume that I was the one who brought you to Knights Bridge, but it’s not that simple.” He sat back, as in control as Loretta had ever seen him. “You knew that Dylan and his work with NAK, his friendship with me, could bring scrutiny to Knights Bridge. Could change things there. You figured out Phoebe must have discovered the hidden room where your client sewed and designed dresses as a young woman.”
Loretta held on tight to her margarita. Olivia and Dylan had told her about the hidden sewing room in the Knights Bridge library attic. She’d figured that sort of thing happened in small-town New England. She’d liked the idea of the Hollywood-inspired dresses. She hadn’t considered—not even for a split-second—that they had anything to do with Julius Hartley.
“That hidden room,” Noah said, “is why you checked me out here in San Diego and why you followed me to Boston. It’s why you went to Knights Bridge. You weren’t just checking on me there. You were checking on the O’Dunns. Specifically, on Phoebe.”
“It didn’t take long. She’s what we call an open book.” Hartley smiled, added, “No pun intended.”
“Debbie Sanderson is the given name of the woman who created the hidden room.” Noah kept his eyes on the man across the table. “She lived in Knights Bridge for a year. Then she took off for Hollywood and reinvented herself.”
“Are you speculating, or do you have facts to back up this claim?” Julius asked.
Noah pointed his water at him. “You’re protecting Debbie Sanderson’s new identity.”
Julius sighed. “You MIT types are just so damn smart, aren’t you?”
Loretta let all the pieces fall into place in her own mind. She set her margarita on the table and looked at Julius. “What did she have you do, watch for Knights Bridge in the news?”
“She does that herself,” he said. “She saw a gossip piece saying that Dylan was engaged to a graphic designer from Knights Bridge. She read about his hockey years, his treasure-hunter father, his best friend the billionaire founder of NAK.”
“Did she have you investigate, or did you volunteer?” Loretta asked.
“She’s a very special lady.”
Meaning he’d volunteered, Loretta thought.
“I’m the one who told her about the fashion show,” Julius said. “She knew it meant her room had been discovered. With you and Dylan in the picture, I had to investigate.”
“What’s her name now?” Noah asked quietly.
Hartley didn’t answer.
Noah leaned forward. “It’s Daphne Stewart, isn’t it?”
Julius looked uncomfortable but said nothing, and Loretta decided to give up on her margarita. She frowned at the two men. “Who’s Daphne Stewart?”
“She’s a highly respected independent costume designer in Hollywood,” Noah said, his eyes still on Julius. “She’s worked on any number of movies. Daphne Stewart is the name she gave herself after she left Knights Bridge forty years ago and headed west.”
“She guards her privacy.” Julius suddenly wasn’t as cocky. “You of all people can understand that.”
Noah’s expression softened. “I won’t intrude on her privacy. Neither will Dylan. Is she a friend?”
“She’s become one, yes. She’s a client with a law firm I do a lot of work for. She’s got a keen sense of drama. She likes knowing a private investigator.” Julius seemed slightly less shaken by Noah’s knowledge. “What about Olivia and Phoebe O’Dunn and her family?”
“What do you think?” Noah asked, his tone as steady and controlled as ever. “Do you think they want to intrude on Miss Stewart’s privacy?”
Julius sighed. “I’ve already told her that it’s my judgment that they don’t and her privacy and anonymity are safe if that’s what she wants. Is Phoebe using any of Daphne’s dresses in the show?”
“I spoke to her a little while ago,” Noah said. “The library will only use the dresses with Miss Stewart’s permission, now that she knows her identity. Even if the library can claim the contents of the sewing room she created, they won’t. Miss Stewart is free to reclaim anything she left behind.”
Loretta shifted her attention from Julius to Noah. “Have you seen this secret sewing room?” she asked.
Noah nodded. “It’s just as Miss Stewart left it at twenty-one.” He steadied his gaze again on Julius. “Please let her know that the people of Knights Bridge would welcome her anytime she’d like to return.”
Julius raised an eyebrow. “Phoebe told you that?”
Noah didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Loretta sat forward. “Is she here in San Diego?”
“Not now, no,” Noah said, his tone unreadable.
“Phoebe figured out that Debbie Sanderson and Daphne Stewart are one and the same?” Julius asked.
“With the help of her sisters.” Noah drank more of his water before he continued. “Miss Stewart left a number of books behind in the house she rented while she lived in Knights Bridge.”
“Phoebe’s house now,” Julius added.
“That’s right. Rebecca, The Moonspinners.”
“Daphne du Maurier and Mary Stewart,” Loretta said. “Daphne Stewart.”
Noah smiled for the first time. “Exactly. Phoebe and her sisters figured out that the Debbie Sanderson who worked at the Knights Bridge library forty years ago and sewed dresses secretly in the attic had to be Daphne Stewart of Hollywood.”
“I’ll be damned.” Loretta grinned. “I read Daphne du Maurier and Mary Stewart as a kid. I love their books.”
* * *
Noah looked out at the San Diego skyline from his corner office suite at NAK, the company he’d founded, built and taken public. He’d had the kernel of the idea for it at twelve. It had grown from there, so that now NAK was a leader in the convergence of technology and entertainment. It was an exciting company, with people clamoring to work there.
“We did a good job,” he said, knowing that Dylan had entered the office.
“You did.” Dylan joined Noah at the windows. “I just helped you so that you could put your skills to their best use.”
“You had my back. Who has yours, Dylan?”
He shrugged. “You do. You tapped on my car window four years ago. Where would I be if you hadn’t?”
“You’d have figured something out. You could have gotten into adventure travel with your father, or gone on treasure hunts with him, instead of keeping the jerks at bay so that I could do my thing. Now your father’s gone—”
Dylan interrupted him. “Noah, my father and I had our chances to do things together. I have a chance now to fulfill some of his dreams, the dreams we shared. Think I’d have that if I hadn’t thrown in with you and made all this money?”
Noah smiled. “That is one way of putting it.”
Dylan looked out at the city they both loved. “Olivia’s family and friends in Knights Bridge watch out for her. She didn’t know that at first. When her friend in Boston betrayed her and she moved back home, she let her pride get in her way. Now she knows.”
“She’ll do anything for her family and friends, and they’ll do anything for her.”
Dylan glanced sideways at Noah. “It’s that way with the O’Dunn sisters, too.”
Noah watched a U.S. Navy ship far out on the Pacific, just a gray blip on the blue water. “Phoebe doesn’t realize that it’s not just her protecting her family and friends. They’re protecting her, too.”
“Maybe too much so,” Dylan said.
“They think what she wants is to live alone in her little house on Thistle Lane for the rest of her life.”
“What if it is what she wants?”
Noah didn’t take his eyes off the ship. “They don’t want to see her heart broken again, so they tell themselves she’s given up on love.”
Dylan was silent a moment. Then he blew out a breath. “Noah, you and Phoebe—”
He turned sharply away from the view and smiled at his friend. “Never mind. I’m talking out of my hat. I’m no good at figuring out people. I’m just glad we figured out that Julius Hartley was protecting Daphne Stewart and had no particular bone to pick with either of us.”
Dylan seemed unwilling to change the subject, but finally he sighed. “He and Loretta are going to L.A. to talk to Miss Stewart. You’re going with them, aren’t you?”
Noah shook his head. “Loretta and Julius are already in L.A. You and I, Dylan my friend, are meeting them at Daphne’s house in Hollywood Hills.”
Dylan scratched the side of his mouth. “We are, huh?”
“And Olivia, too. I’ve already talked to her. She wants to be back home in time for the fashion show. I’ve arranged for a flight from L.A., after our visit.”
“You never fail to surprise me.”
“Likewise,” Noah said. “How long have you known it was Phoebe in that Edwardian dress at the charity masquerade?”
“Olivia didn’t recognize her—”
“Olivia doesn’t have your objectivity or experience with people. Design and colors, yes.” Noah followed Dylan out of the office. “When, Dylan?”
“When you danced with her,” he said when they reached the hall. “I didn’t tell Olivia because she didn’t ask. She didn’t tell me when she found out because I didn’t ask. Worked out just fine.”
“You two have a great life together.”
“I like how you put that. We have a great life together now. It’s not just in the future.” But Dylan’s eyes were serious as he and Noah stopped at the elevators. “Noah, I don’t want you worrying about Olivia and me if you and Phoebe...if you two...” He grimaced. “Hell.”
Noah grinned. “Not going to have my back with this one, are you?”
“I don’t need to. You’re a smart guy. You know what you’re getting into.”
As the elevator dinged, Noah could see Phoebe’s turquoise eyes, her smile, her dark strawberry hair against her creamy skin. Yes, indeed. He did know what he was getting into, but what was going on between Phoebe and him was for them to sort out on their own—without Dylan McCaffrey, Olivia Frost, Phoebe’s three younger sisters, her eccentric mother, her brother-in-law, the rest of the Frosts, the rest of the Sloans or the rest of Knights Bridge.
The elevator doors opened and he and Dylan got in. “Sometimes we hold on to an image of ourselves because we’re convinced it’s what we’re supposed to be. It’s what we want, what other people want from us.” He was hardly aware that he was speaking to Dylan. “I was supposed to be the techie rich guy with a babe on each arm.”
“Maybe Phoebe is just who she is, Noah.”
“She has a great life and a great job. I don’t intend to mess that up for her.”
“From what I saw in Boston...” Dylan paused, glanced at Noah with a smile. “I’m not sure Phoebe O’Dunn’s given up on having a man in her life as much as she wants everyone else to think.”
“Come on. Let’s go to Hollywood.”
Twenty
Phoebe had been involved in countless library and other town events since she was a kid, but tonight she was nervous. The vintage fashion show was special. Different. Not just because it was a first for Knights Bridge but because of the hidden attic room and the woman who’d created it, and why. The lasting impact of Debbie Sanderson’s brief time in Knights Bridge, on herself, on the people she’d encountered here.
On Phoebe’s own family. Her mother, her father.
She slipped into the rich brown sequined Edwardian gown. She’d debated whether to wear it to host the fashion show or just to model it. Wearing it to host had won out. She’d walk to the library and meet her mother and sisters there. No word from Olivia yet, but she and Dylan had planned to be back from California in time for the show.
And no word from Noah...
Phoebe adjusted the dress. She’d skip the matching hat tonight. She wasn’t trying to conceal her identity from anyone, as she had at the masquerade ball. Now that Noah was back on his home turf, did his short stay in Knights Bridge seem completely unreal to him?
It almost did to her, she realized. Tonight would help get her refocused. Then she planned to take a week off. She’d stay home, work on her garden, help Olivia and Maggie with Carriage Hill, her mother with the goats and her freezing and canning. After that, she’d be into her fall routines at the library. She couldn’t wait, really.
So why do I feel out of sorts?
She made herself smile in her bedroom mirror. As host tonight, she had to be happy and cheerful.
Vivacious. That was the word she was looking for.
She didn’t feel vivacious.
She carried her sandals by the straps in one hand and headed downstairs barefoot. No black wig, mask or heavy makeup tonight, either. She’d found instructions for an updo on the internet and managed to follow them, if imperfectly. A few wisps of hair were already out of the pins. The do just had to last a couple of hours. Maggie was catering the post-show wine and cheese party, but then she, the twins and Phoebe would meet back on Thistle Lane and celebrate with a couple of bottles of white wine already chilling in the refrigerator. Phoebe didn’t know if Olivia and Dylan would join them.
How much had Noah told his best friend about his stay in Knights Bridge? How much had Dylan guessed?
Phoebe shook off the question. She couldn’t change what had gone on between her and Noah. She knew now that she wouldn’t even if she could. Any self-consciousness, embarrassment or awkwardness she might feel had to be endured.
Was worth it, she thought as she stepped out onto the porch. She didn’t know what was next in their relationship but she had no regrets so far.
She set her sandals on the porch floor. The evening was warm and clear, perfect for the fashion show. She couldn’t have ordered up one better. They’d have a good turnout. She looked forward to telling people how Daphne Stewart had gotten her start as a Hollywood costume designer in their town.
A sleek black sedan eased to a stop on Thistle Lane. A uniformed driver steppe
d out, went around and opened the back door. Noah got out, and the driver returned to his position behind the wheel.
As the car turned around in Phoebe’s driveway and headed back up Thistle Lane, Noah crossed the yard, his movements as smooth and purposeful as she remembered from the first time she’d seen him. He wore an obviously expensive black suit this time. No cape, no mask, no sword.
Phoebe watched him, her heart hammering. Her attraction to him wasn’t going away. If anything, it had deepened, becoming not just physical, not just a fleeting connection to liven up a quiet summer. She loved hearing his voice, loved talking to him, listening to him. It didn’t matter that she’d known him such a short time. She’d never felt like this about anyone. Her sisters, her parents, her nephews. She loved them with all her heart, but this was different.
It’s too fast. Too crazy.
Maybe so, but she couldn’t deny the rush of emotion as he mounted the porch steps.
“Olivia and Dylan are right behind me,” he said. “I wanted to see you first.”
Phoebe steadied herself. “My sisters are at the library already. Ava and Ruby are helping Maggie set up for the party after the fashion show. I’m meeting them there.” She realized Noah couldn’t possibly care about these details but she couldn’t stop herself. “Maggie’s serving a merlot from your winery. She thought that was fitting. She says it’s excellent. She knows more about wine than I do.”
“Probably more than I do, too. I bought the winery for the view.”
“And to help a struggling friend,” Phoebe added, then smiled. “I read about it in an article.”
He stepped up onto the porch and gave her one of his slight, enigmatic smiles. “I also liked the idea of wine.”
“That’s how you operate, isn’t it?” She felt his gaze on her and remembered she was in her Edwardian dress. She ignored a tingle of awareness and continued. “You get an idea. Then you take action.”
“It’s hard to get anything done if you just think about it.” He touched an errant curl that had flopped from her updo onto her cheek. “You look beautiful tonight, Phoebe. I like the dress even better with your natural hair.”
That Night on Thistle Lane Page 24