BY SANDRA D. BRICKER
SummeRSIde
PRESS ™
Summerside Press™
Minneapolis 55438
www.summersidepress.com
Love Finds You in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California
© 2010 by Sandra D. Bricker
ISBN 978-1-60936-027-6
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
Scripture references are from the following sources: The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. The New King James Version (NKJV). Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission.
The town depicted in this book is a real place, but all characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual people or events are purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Koechel Peterson & Associates | www.kpadesign.com
Interior Design by Müllerhaus Publishing Group | www.mullerhaus.net
Photos of Carmel by Stephen Brown, www.flickr.com/photos/sjb4photos. Used by permission.
Published in association with the literary agency of WordServe Literary Group, Ltd., 10152 S. Knoll Circle, Highlands Ranch, CO 80130, www.wordserveliterary.com.
Summerside Press™ is an inspirational publisher offering fresh, irresistible books to uplift the heart and engage the mind.
Printed in USA.
Dedication
For Jemelle and Alberto,
the real-life parents of Sherman and Murphy,
the cutest and most personable beagle rescues EVER!
May both puppies rest in peace
and find lots of lettuce leaves where they are now.
And for Rachelle Gardner
with sincere thanks
for her humor, guidance, grace,
and a shoulder that is much stronger than it looks!
Acknowledgments
Deepest thanks to my Summerside editors,
Rachel and Connie.
I love you both so much.
And Carlton, thank you for wanting me to tell the story
when you fell for Carmel-by-the-Sea.
Wonky, goofy gratitude to Tom Merino,
my favorite FilmGypsy.
I love you more than my thesaurus.
Tommy, Don, and Evelyn,
you all made awesome Carmel tour guides,
showing me the spirit of one of
the most extraordinary places on earth.
Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart
and shattered the rocks before the LORD,
but the LORD was not in the wind.
After the wind there was an earthquake,
but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire.
And after the fire came a gentle whisper.
~1 KINGS 19:11–12 NIV
LET’S BE HONEST. I’M A CALIFORNIA GIRL. I WAS BORN IN OCEANSIDE, lived in the area several different times as the child of a Marine Corps officer, and spent most of my adult life in Los Angeles. So it goes without saying that I’m partial to the blue waters of the Pacific, and I’m programmed to believe that “There’s no place like home.” But scenic Carmel-by-the-Sea is the absolute ultimate among the countless unique villages that garnish the Californian shores.
Carmel’s foundation consists of the spirit of the artists, poets, and writers that built it. As early as 1910, it was reported that over half the houses built there belonged to residents connected to the arts, and it shows. Over three hundred miles north of Hollywood, Carmel oozes the charm and nostalgic glamour of a classic movie set without the bells and whistles, as well as the European influence of its earliest beginnings.
The city’s plans for a simple “village in a forest overlooking a white-sand beach” are spot-on. The beaches are pristine, the neighborhoods enthralling—and Carmel Village hosts locals and tourists alike (right along with their dogs!) with an inviting ambiance that makes a visitor think twice about whether they ever want to leave.
Sandra D. Bricker
Chapter One
Fade in.
“So did you ask him to make your day?”
“Of course,” Annie replied, mock-serious. “I stared him down with my steely Zoolander glare and said, ‘Look here, Eastwood. The question is whether or not you feel lucky. Do ya, Clint? Well, do ya?’”
Zoey crackled with laughter as Annie put on her best Dirty Harry face.
“‘Go ahead, Clint,’ I told him. ‘Make my day.’”
Annie’s grandmother shook her head as she left the parlor, making a clicking sound with her tongue.
“I can’t believe your gram knows Clint Eastwood!” Zoey whispered.
Annie picked up the scrapbooks scattered on the sofa next to Zoey and stacked them on the coffee table before she sat down beside her friend.
“I know! And get this. He calls her Dori.”
Zoey grinned as Dot reappeared with a silver tray holding two tall, crystal glasses of lemonade. Annie’s dog, Sherman, a rounder-than-he-should-be beagle with soulful brown eyes, followed close at her heels, his paws clickety-clacking on the mahogany floorboards.
“Dot,” Zoey marveled, “Clint Eastwood calls you Dori?”
“That’s what everyone called me back then, before the dinosaurs were extinct,” she replied, setting the tray on the table in front of them. “Honestly, Annabelle. Are you dragging out those old scrapbooks again? Get out of the past, or you’ll get cobwebs all over everything.”
Annie grinned and slid one of the leather-bound albums to her lap and turned over a page. “These books are impeccable, Gram. There’s no dust or webs anywhere near them.”
“I was speaking metaphorically.”
Annie sighed as she gingerly ran her finger over a black-and-white head shot of classic film star Dorothy Gray. “You were such a hottie, Gram.”
Dot sat down in the wingback chair beside the brick fireplace and smoothed the front of her floral cotton dress as she glanced in the direction of the photograph.
“Perfect skin, perfect hair,” Annie remarked. She gave Zoey a gentle poke in the side with her elbow. “Gram was quite a looker.”
“You were exquisite,” Zoey said on a sigh.
“A lifetime ago,” Dot remarked. “That girl looks like another person to me now.”
“It’s still you, Gram,” Annie assured her. “The same sparkling eyes…and those amazing legs!”
Dot chuckled. Raising the hem of her skirt, she bent one leg and pointed the toe of her slippered foot as she shot them both a twinkling smile. “I do still have quite the gams.”
“Yes, you do!” Zoey cried.
“I don’t know why you couldn’t have shared the love a little bit, with the silky hair and porcelain skin,” Annie pointed out.
“You’re stunning anyway,” Dot declared, and Zoey gently twisted a section of Annie’s long, gold ringlets around her fist and tugged playfully.
“I don’t look like anyone in our family.”
“This is true,” Dot stated. Her crystal blue eyes glistened as she added, “But you do bear a striking resemblance to that very nice man who used to deliver the milk.”
Zoey snorted as Annie exclaimed, “Gram!”
“He had curly hair and very nice bone structure. That’s all I’m saying.”
Annie closed the album on her lap and plunked it on top of the other ones before placing them next to a dozen others on one of the f
loor-to-ceiling bookshelves flanking the bay window. She sat down on the arm of Dot’s chair and touched her grandmother’s soft linen hand.
“Are you all settled in?” Dot asked her.
Annie nodded as Zoey replied, “We’ve carried the last of her boxes upstairs.”
“Is there anything you need up there? Helen helped me put on clean sheets, but I’m afraid we might need to get a new box spring and mattress if it’s too lumpy for you. Try it out for a couple of nights and see what you think.”
“Gram,” she half whispered, “it’s fine.” Accepting her grandmother’s hand, Annie’s hazel eyes misted over with emotion. “I’m just so grateful to you.”
“For what?” Dot dismissed the notion. “You’re family.”
Annie sniffed. “Yeah. The kind you avoid at reunions.”
“Don’t say such a thing. You just landed on hard times, Annabelle. It happens to every one of us at one time or another. It’s God’s way of telling us it’s time to reorganize.”
Zoey shot her a nod of encouragement as Dot continued to reassure her. “You know you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need. You’re doing me as much a favor as I’m doing for you.”
“What I really need,” Annie groaned, falling into the adjacent over-cushioned chair, “is a plan.”
“That’s a very good place to start!” Dot exclaimed. She tugged open the drawer of the end table. “There’s a pad and pen in there. Why don’t we make a list?”
Annie grinned at Zoey. “My gram is a list-maker, like me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a good list,” Zoey said on a chuckle.
“That’s right,” Dot declared. “We’ll start with what you want to do about a new job.”
“Now that my demeaning call-center job has gone up in flames?”
“There are no demeaning jobs,” Dot corrected.
“Only demeaned employees,” Annie finished. Zoey chuckled.
“Zoey, there are snickerdoodles in the cupboard. Why don’t you arrange some on a plate, and Annie will take the pad and pen so that we can start to make a plan.”
Zoey hopped to her feet as Annie remarked, “A plan is much easier to devise when there are cookies.”
“Not just any cookie either,” Zoey said, her arm raised and her index finger pointed toward the ceiling. “Snickerdoodles!”
“Mock if you must,” Dot told them. “But by the time we’ve finished our cookies, my granddaughter will have the plan that she needs.”
Annie thought they must all look very serious, like a convening political summit, as they gathered around the red laminate-and-chrome kitchen table. But when a twenty-six-year-old floundered, a very serious plan was in order.
“First order of business,” Dot suggested, “is a job. What would you like to do with your life from here, Annabelle? Sky’s the limit.”
“Does Charlie need any more ‘Angels’ these days?” she asked in jest. Then her thoughts skipped across the peninsula, up to Monterey, where she’d just left behind an apartment and the call-center job at Equity Now that had gone kaput after four tedious years. “Seriously,” she told them, “I’d like something interesting, maybe even exciting; something that doesn’t involve being tethered to a desk with an umbilical-cord headset.”
“All right,” Dot said with a nod. “Write that down.”
Annie sounded it out as she wrote: “A much cooler job.”
“Good! What next?”
“I would like to get some great hair.” She stated it with all the seriousness of a reverend giving a eulogy.
“You have great hair,” Zoey pointed out.
“I have curls,” Annie corrected her, “and they have a mind of their own. I’d like some sleek Jennifer Aniston hair.”
“Fine.” The one syllable emerged as a sort of groan, which told Annie that Zoey had only let go for the moment.
“What else?” Dot asked her. “A really good plan needs at least five points to it.”
“Oh.” Annie wasn’t sure she had five solid ideas about what to do with the mess that was her life. “Well, I want to eventually get back to Monterey.”
“Why? Carmel is—”
Dot touched Zoey on the hand, and she pressed her lips together for a moment. “Sorry. It’s your plan. Go ahead.”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you letting me crash here, Gram. I just…I want a place of my own. Something that’s just mine, you know? I want to know what it’s like to really feel at home. Does that make sense?”
“Of course it does.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt that. I’ve always lived in my parents’ home, your house…. Even my apartments have been rented from someone else.”
“Home doesn’t have to be about a house,” Zoey told her. “It’s really more about a feeling. Mateo is home for me, not the place where we live.”
“Well, I don’t have a Mateo either,” Annie cracked. “So I’d like a place of my own, back in Monterey where I belong.”
“You belong there?” Dot asked.
Annie shrugged. She wasn’t sure she actually belonged anywhere, if she told the truth.
“And you know, I was thinking when I was looking through your scrapbooks again, Gram—I need to work on smiling more. You have such a movie-star smile.”
Dot chuckled just as Sherman yawned from beneath the table and released a little high-pitched squeal at the end of it.
“No, really. You almost glitter when you smile. You light up the whole place. I’d like to have a smile like that.”
“All right. Add that to your list, sweetheart.”
Annie wrote it down. SMILE MORE. Then she paused and said, “I wouldn’t mind finding a real boyfriend.”
“As opposed to a fake one.”
“Well, Evan is the person I spend most of my time with, but we’re more like friends than anything else. I’d like a real boyfriend, one that I can take home to my family and show off a little.”
Dot and Zoey exchanged glances.
“What?” Annie asked them, looking from one to the other and back again.
“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to mess everything up by taking him home to meet…your parents?”
Annie’s eyes darted to Dot, who only shrugged.
“Still. A little romance might be nice, don’t you think?” Annie persisted.
“It certainly can be nice,” Dot replied. Then she picked up a cookie and took a bite. “Now, what do we have on the list so far?”
“First, a new job,” Annie read from the page. “Something fun and exciting. Two, some great hair. Three, move back to Monterey. And four, smile more often.” She paused for a moment and then scribbled a note next to point number four before reading it out loud. “Get teeth whitened.”
Zoey and Dot both giggled as Sherman dropped his head to the top of Annie’s foot and sighed.
“I guess I’ll save the new boyfriend for later, so I still need a fifth point.”
“What about a new wardrobe?” Zoey suggested, and Annie frowned at her.
“I like my wardrobe,” she objected, looking down at her cropped white pants, bright pink blouse with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black-and-white-checkered vest. “It showcases my personal style.”
“And you have loads of that,” Zoey retorted with a grin. “I just meant, since you’re going to be looking for a new job, you’ll want to…you know… I mean, it couldn’t hurt to get something a little more conservative for interviews.”
“Conservative? I want something exciting, maybe with a little intrigue to it. What’s that got to do with a conservative wardrobe?”
Zoey leaned on her elbows and propped her chin atop both hands.
“I would like a new car, though,” Annie continued. “Something sporty. Maybe a convertible.”
“Job first? Convertible later?” Zoey suggested.
Annie nodded, filled in point number five, then circled point number one and drew a large exclamation point beside
it.
Staring down at the words on the page before her, she whispered an awkward little prayer over them. “I don’t want to be just one of the background players anymore. I want to star in my own life story. I want to really do something with my life.”
For some reason, she couldn’t find the words to continue. She just tapped her fingers on the pad of paper and sighed.
“Amen,” Zoey said.
“And amen,” added Gram.
“Nick Benchley, you are a saint, that’s what you are. What would this community do without you?”
“Okay, Mrs. Ferguson. You have a good day now.”
Nick waited until the station’s elevator door clanked shut before allowing the smile to drop from his face. Heading back down the corridor toward his desk, he noticed Greg Thorton eyeing him with a grin.
“I see your fan club president paid you a visit.”
Nick grunted as he passed by.
“What is it this week, Detective?” Thorton called out. “Saved her cat from the tree, did you? Nailed the bad guy stealing her newspaper in the morning?”
Shaking his head, Nick dropped to his chair and snatched up the phone in the middle of its first ring.
“Benchley.”
“Bench, it’s Deke.”
“Deacon Heffley. What can I do ya for?”
“Wondered if you had a chance to run that check for me.”
Nick cringed. He’d forgotten all about calling Deke that morning amid the paperwork on yesterday’s corpse found in the parking lot at Ralph’s and the subsequent curiosity visit from Mrs. Ferguson that morning. He riffled through the paperwork spread across his desk.
“Kingston, right?”
“Lawrence Kingston,” Deke confirmed.
“Yeah, here it is.” Nick flicked the first few pages and turned them over. “No record of his being employed at all over the last four years, much less for Monterey County. No taxes filed, no personnel records with the city. He was brought in for petty burglary last year, but the charges were dropped when he worked out restitution with the victim. Sorry I don’t have more.”
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