The sounds of a tea kettle reaching full boil pierced the air, bringing her into the present. Unzipping her sleeping bag, she swung her legs out and sat up. Immediately, she felt the chill and shivered—a reminder she was no longer in L.A. Her clothes from last night’s adventure sat in a pile where she had dropped them. She wrinkled her nose when she picked them up and immediately tossed them in the corner. With only one other pair of jeans to her name, Cassie slipped them on, found a clean shirt, grabbed her toiletries, and headed into the bathroom before facing Wyatt Earp.
Jack was on the phone, leaning against the kitchen sink, when she entered. He pointed to the can of instant coffee and the tea kettle. She found the largest mug in the cupboard. While it brewed, she rifled through all the sweatshirts in the mudroom, looking for one to wear. She half-listened to Jack and his conversation, sorting through the various choices of outdoor clothing. Disappointed her sister-in-law hadn’t left something designer behind, Cassie settled on a zippered style hooded sweatshirt. Still listening to Jack’s conversation, Cassie sipped her coffee and stared out the front window. From the looks of things, not much had changed, but it had if Jack were rolling around in seaweed sludge, spying. She positioned her body against the wall so she could look down the beach but also sneak a few looks at Jack. Her first impression of him in Los Angeles was correct. She didn’t want to mess with him. Generally speaking, she would say he was big—all over. She smiled, remembering last night when he had her pinned to the bed and then afterward. She’d gotten a good look.
Cassie heard, “She’s up now so we’ll see you in a bit.” Jack tucked his phone in his pocket. “What are you smiling about, because it can’t be that coffee?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged.
“The way your stomach was growling early this morning, I figured you want to eat breakfast. You do eat breakfast, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Can you be ready in fifteen minutes? We’re meeting some people at Jeannie’s Place.”
“I’m ready right now.” Her answer must have surprised him because he raised his eyebrows. “Let me get my purse.”
Jack waited for her to buckle up before heading down the drive. At the end of their driveway, where it met up with Blue Heron Lane, he stopped and pulled on his stocking cap and said, “Okay, this is what I want you to do. Lean down so when we pass the second drive from here no one will see you.”
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Cassie leaned over to touch her toes.
“Eventually.”
When they hit the road, she sat up. “Does this have anything to do with why you’re at my house? By the way, why are you at my house? And who gave you permission to be here?”
“It’s not just your house. Mike gave me permission. I.C.E. is renting it for a bit.”
“I’m not sure I want you here.”
“Too bad. I’m here. We have a contract.”
Cassie huffed loudly and looked out the window at the scenery. The island had changed, and yet it hadn’t. When they arrived in town, Jack circled around the block before parking across from the café.
“Oh, it’s the Ferry Dock. We used to come here all the time. It looks…better. I thought you said we were going to Jeannie’s Place.”
Jack stared at the two signs and shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s both. That’s what the two signs say. Ferry Dock Café and Jeannie’s Place. They’re the same, owned by Jeannie Rogers.”
Jack waited for Cassie to join him before heading across the street. All of a sudden, it felt odd being back, like she didn’t belong here. Uncertainty blanketed her, causing her to freeze in place. At the moment, she felt like she had no identity. In California, she would have made some sort of entrance.
“What are you waiting for, there’s no traffic.” Jack nudged her along. “Come on.”
He opened the door for her to enter, but she stopped when everyone turned to look at her. She sucked in her breath and glanced up at him.
“It’s okay, Cass, they’re not going to bite you.”
She swallowed several times. “I know that. It’s just…well, I haven’t been back since my parents died. And…”
Jack continued to hold the door open. “You’ll be fine. They just want to know you. Give them a chance and you’ll make some good friends.” Cassie looked up at him again, and he smiled at her. “Trust me on this one.”
Cassie recognized the woman who’d given her a ride the night before. She smiled and waved at her.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Jack put his hand in the small of her back and pushed her forward.
Before Jack could start, Montana jumped off the counter stool and came forward, looping her arm through hers. “I am so glad to see you this morning.”
Surprised, Jack asked, “Have you two met?”
“Yes. I gave her a lift last night. Come sit at the counter with Jeannie and me. The guys will want to talk. Jack, why don’t you make the introductions while I get Cassie a decent cup of coffee.”
Jack started with Jeannie, next came Edwina, who poked her head out from the kitchen, and last was Kip Hendricks. Before Cassie could sit down, Edwina had come around with a tray of hot cinnamon rolls and placed them on the counter and handed her a small plate with two on them.
“Honey, you’re just a slip of a thing. We need to get some meat on those bones of yours. Jack, here’s your plate. Eat up, there’s plenty more for everyone.”
“I thank you, Winnie, how did you know?” Jack heaped butter on his rolls and joined Kip at a table by the window.
“That was our Winnie who thinks we all need to eat.” Jeannie laughed. “Truth be told, I guess I do, too. If there’s a crisis, we eat. If we’re happy, we eat. What can I say? Here’s a menu for something a bit more substantial.”
Cassie couldn’t remember when something smelled so good. She pulled apart the roll and stuffed pieces in her mouth, washing it down with coffee, then stuffed more. Nearly choking, she said, “These are heavenly.” For one moment, she hesitated and worried someone would see what she was eating. But it didn’t matter here.
“Let’s get your breakfast orders into Winnie. Jack,” Jeannie called, “the usual?” Jeannie smiled at Cassie. “How does a crab omelet sound?”
Cassie nodded with her mouth full.
Within minutes, Winnie slid two plates through the opening. Jeannie delivered them and Montana refreshed everyone’s coffee.
“So, Cassie, what’s on your agenda today?” Montana asked.
Her fork, full with omelet, stopped mid-air. “I don’t really know other than getting settled.”
“Settled is good.”
Cassie devoured her food, and the two women talked away. It had been over a week ago at Morro Bay that she’d had a full breakfast. Each time she filled the gas tank, she worried about her money. Driving up the coastal roads, she’d slept in the truck and bought food at grocery stores, sticking with lower calorie foods like nonfat yogurt. Her only indulgence was hot coffee—and lots of it.
Jack and Kip joined them at the counter.
“Montana, what are you doing today?” Jack asked.
“Not much. Last night, I had the new moon ritual, but today I’m free. It’s a shame you couldn’t have joined us last night, you would have enjoyed it.”
Cassie almost choked looking at Jack’s face and then Kip’s. Jeannie was laughing.
“Well, then again, maybe not, from the looks on your face.” Montana chuckled. “So what’s up?”
“I need your help as an incognito snooper. Rob Armstrong is back.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “We haven’t seen him in town, but now that you mention it, we haven’t seen Margery Anne either. I would love to. What about you, Jeannie?”
“No way, not this time. Café
calls. Besides, this is up your alley, not mine. I’m officially retired. Nor more decoy of the destiny roles for me. I had my fill last spring and never quite recouped.”
“If you say so. Will this be like spying?” Montana grinned.
“If you want to call it that, sure,” Jack said.
“This is going to be fun. Will we need disguises?” Montana grinned at Cassie. “What about you, Cassie?”
She wasn’t so sure about the fun part after last night. “Are you going to be there, Jack?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“If you’re going to be there, then sure, I guess I can.”
A picture fell from the file Jack held and landed on the counter. Cassie picked it up and looked at the photo. “I saw him.”
Kip and Jack stopped talking.
She held up the picture to give it back to Jack. “This guy was on the ferry yesterday.”
“Are you sure?” Jack asked.
“Yes. We were getting off together. Everything was so different, so I asked him a question and he was very rude. I remembered everyone being nice on the island, so I was surprised.”
“Was anyone with him?”
Cassie closed her eyes and pictured exiting the ferry. “There might have been, but I couldn’t swear to it.”
Jack handed her another photo.
“Yep, he was on the ferry too, walking off. We were all walk-offs.”
“That confirms how they got there yesterday,” said Kip. “Montana makes a good point about disguises. With the house so close, you don’t want him recognizing any of you.”
“Oh, my God,” Montana said. “I have all the stuff we need.” Everyone stared at her. “Well, when I worked as a couples’ therapist, I used play-acting to improve communication and sometimes to retrain intimacy by using fantasy rituals. I just found it easier for the couples to role play with disguises and costumes. I have the perfect items…trust me.”
“We do!” The guys laughed.
Jeannie smiled, and Cassie wondered what happened to the island of her childhood.
“So, Jack, what do you want Cassie and me to do?”
“Walk on the beach, take your time, and relay back to me what you see.”
Cassie cleared her throat and caught Jack’s attention. “My Mom and I used to look for agates on the beach. We would stroll up and down. It would be a good, slow thing to do.”
“Perfect. Montana, take Cassie back to your place and find the right sort of items you need for beach strolling and meet us back at the Ryan’s, say in an hour, give or take fifteen minutes.”
“Great. We’re out of here. Let’s go, Cassie.”
Once again, Cassie’s insecurities surfaced. It sounded simple enough, safe, and basically an acting job. Jack touched her shoulder, and she looked up. He gave her a nod. She sucked in her breath, grabbed her purse, and followed Montana out the café door.
Jack waited until he saw Montana pull away from the café before he said, “I need to get a hold of Anacortes’s CCTV from yesterday and see if we can spot who dropped off those guys at the dock. They didn’t get there by bus.”
“How did she get to the ferry if she was a walk-on?” asked Kip.
“I think she was driving a very old pick-up truck that died at the terminal. I was just getting on and passed her, but at the time, I didn’t think it was her. Normally, you wouldn’t find her without make-up and her hair done perfectly, wearing the latest fashion. Yesterday, she looked like a drowned rat that hadn’t slept in days.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Her parent’s funeral.”
“Jesus… Did she show up with anything?” Kip asked.
“Not that I could see. No phone, laptop, nothing electronic. Just a few clothes. Obviously, she left in a hurry.”
“Jack, I heard she was an actress in Los Angeles on some daytime TV soap opera,” Jeannie said. “Is this true?”
“You wouldn’t know it this morning, but…” Jack paused. “She’s actually pretty good. Or she used to be. When she first got on the soap opera, I tuned in.” He laughed. “It was sort of funny to see her. She played some person from the south and had a goofy accent.” Thinking about it, he shook his head and smiled.
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
“My guess is the guy she was living with did a number on her. She was always confident and mouthy, gutsy too. But something has changed.”
“Well hell, if she’s been hanging out with that fu—” Kip glanced at Jeannie. “That Russian, who knows what went on. I sure hope for her sake she wasn’t involved.”
“Are you two talking work?” Jeannie asked.
Kip cleared his throat. “We might be.”
“If she’s in trouble, then we need to watch out for her. You two need to fess up on what’s really going on. Keep in mind, I might not be good on the computer, but I know Betsy is, so spill the beans.”
Kip sighed. Jack cleared his throat, thinking about how much to reveal. Did Jeannie really need to know about the Russian Mob and the possible connection to her husband Brian’s death? He thought not.
“Cassie left Los Angeles in a hurry. The fellow she’d been living with was arrested for a high-end auto theft ring, where he shipped the chopped up vehicles overseas. They’re still uncovering his illegal activities.”
“Interesting. Would he be part of the West Coast auto theft operation Brian had been working on?” Jeannie looked them both in the eye.
“The dots have not been connected. Yet.” Jack glanced at Kip, who nodded his head slightly. This was a wife of a slain police detective who deserved honest answers. “However, I wouldn’t be surprised if he were somehow involved.”
“Did she know this?”
“No. I’m pretty certain she didn’t. Cassie was in the Hollywood scene, trying to get her career to take off.”
“Then she has to be scared. Those people are vindictive. Is he after her?”
Jack shrugged. “He might think she ratted on him, though I don’t think she knows anything to rat. The problem is the Russian Mob can be ruthless in their pursuit of their version of justice.”
“Well,” Jeannie said. “It looks to me like you two have your work cut out for you. Kip?”
“Let me make some phone calls down to L.A. and see what I can find out. I’ve got a few contacts.” Kip slipped off the counter stool and leaned over and gave Jeannie a quick kiss. “Honey, we are off to my office.”
When Kip and Jack were clear of the café Kip asked, “Is there a warrant out for her?”
“As of this morning, no.”
“Do you expect one?”
“I’m not sure. I hope not. At the moment, the FBI thinks his latest squeeze is the artist girlfriend, not Cassie. By all appearances, you’d think so too. Cassie might be in the clear from the FBI, but not the mob. I’d like to connect all the dots and nail that bastard’s ass.”
“No doubt in my mind you will.”
“Sometimes things are easier said than done.”
Chapter Twelve
"We’re almost there.” Montana turned and smiled at Cassie. Cassie continued to gaze out the window. “This is really turning out to be a quite a morning. I had no idea when I picked you up yesterday that you knew Jack.” Montana peeked to see if there was any sort of acknowledgment. Nothing. Very odd. She’d watched the subtle interaction between them. Their vibration was strong and intertwined, and Montana guessed it had been for a long time. “So how long have you known Jack?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard to say. A while.”
Montana turned her face away so Cassie couldn’t see her biting her lip to keep from laughing. Not much had changed from last night. Maybe what she should have asked her was, “What was the date you m
et Jack Wyatt?”
Montana turned into her driveway and slowed her car to a crawl. The old two-story farmhouse sat back from the road. “This is where I live.”
“I don’t remember this.” Cassie peered out of the windows.
“But why would you, unless you were pedaling around on your bike. It’s in the middle of the island.” Montana parked next to the back door. “Everything we need is up in the attic. I’ll need your help hauling the boxes down.”
She didn’t wait for a reply because she knew none was forthcoming. Montana hopped out of her old Saab, unlocked the door, and waited for Cassie to join her.
Cassie wondered what to expect when she walked into Montana’s home. From her comments, she seemed similar to Madame Sofia in Los Angeles, which might not be a bad thing since she’d saved her from the FBI raid.
“Welcome to my home.” Montana smiled and gestured her in.
Cassie couldn’t have been more wrong in her expectations. Bright bold colors were everywhere, with a ton of windows and French doors leading out onto a courtyard that was filled with rhododendrons, bird baths, and wind chimes. A large butcher block table sat near the window, surrounded by chairs.
“Wow, this is lovely.” She smiled, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. “I smell?”
“Lavender. I’m drying it in the front room. I’ll give you a quick tour.” When Montana finished, they were on the second floor standing by a door that led up to the attic. “We can either haul the boxes down or go through them up there.”
Cassie stared up the steep, narrow stairs. “Let’s sort through them up there. I’m feeling cautious.”
Montana laughed. “Good idea.”
The attic was high enough you didn’t need to worry about hitting your head. Montana pulled out two boxes and handed one to Cassie.
“You have the wigs, and I have the costume wear.”
They sat down and started sorting through them.
Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series) Page 8