WindSwept Narrows: #21 Charlotte Bell & Natalie Templeton

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “I like it. I’ve got some ideas,” he said easily, glancing around and hitting the throttle, sending them soaring along the road to the highway. “Are they always like that? Your family.”

  She shrugged, realizing he could see. “I suppose it’s my fault for not answering her messages. I need to just start sending her answers and try and keep it long distance.”

  “Did you get anything out of the trial process?”

  “I spent a year working sex crimes…” She said quietly, gazing around as they sped up the highway toward Seattle. “I used to get so really seriously angry listening to everyone making it out to be the victim’s fault. Not everyone, that’s wrong…the PA’s and…people use words that make you start to believe it was all your fault.”

  “You investigated him, didn’t you?”

  “Not until after the fact. It was too late then.”

  “I can promise you, there is nothing in my history that will make you nervous or uncomfortable,” Tre assured her.

  “Because you’re the harmless boy next door?”

  “Because I know how to cover my tracks,” he chuckled, her hoot of laughter warming him through and through.

  “That does not inspire confidence, Tre.”

  “Please…we know so many of the same people. I think one of the reasons we’ve gravitated together is because of similar values and…not beliefs…just mores,” he took the exit ahead of him and slowed his speed for the early morning traffic, tipping his wrist up at the light. “Just in time.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “First? A nice quiet stroll.”

  “I haven’t been up this way in ages,” she gazed around the Ballard neighborhood, small shops, people strolling along the streets, coffee shops brimming with chatty people with newspapers and pets and flowers lining the lamp posts along the street. “First?” His single word had just registered in her mind.

  “It’s just touching ten Am on a gorgeous Sunday. We have the whole day laid out before us, like a magic carpet,” he said with a smoothness and ease that came so naturally to him.

  She was willing to bet he’d make an amazing physician.

  “We have snow-capped mountains, sparkling blue waters and sunshine. We can take the ferry across to Bainbridge island and ride up 101 before heading back. I’m sure we can find someplace along the way for lunch and maybe even dinner. It doesn’t get dark until almost nine-thirty.”

  He listened to her sigh but didn’t get the feeling she was sorry he’d wheedled his way into her day. Guiding the bike expertly, he found a spot half a block from his destination and shut everything down. He waited until she stepped to the concrete before dismounting, opening the case on the back and locking both helmets inside before setting the alarm.

  He opened his jacket and took her palm, walking along the road and up the short alleyway to the area filled with tent tops, fragrant smells and bustling summer sales. The farmer’s market opened five minutes earlier and already the numerous vendors were doing a very active Sunday morning sales.

  Tre turned to look at her when he heard her laughter, her head swiveling up the street and then in the other direction. Her fingers tightened on his, her other hand up and on his arm as they walked. He leaned the few inches that separated their height.

  “We only have two side bags and the case behind you.” He met the startled look that she turned into an embarrassed little pout. “Yeah…telepathy…plus I’ve seen that look before.”

  “Maybe some fruit. I love fresh fruit and huge salads with fresh cukes and tomatoes and little cheese balls,” Natalie pulled her fingers free and patted down her pockets, breathing a sigh of relief when she came up with her wallet in an inside pocket of the jacket.

  “I’ve got cash if you need some,” he met the sudden look. “And you can pay me back when we get back.”

  “I was afraid I’d forgotten my wallet. Seeing my brother at that time of the morning makes my brain fritz out on me,” she admitted, striding over to one of the vendors and making a selection.

  Tre followed at her side, their conversation about vendors, food preferences and even the variety of people. He was eating a small box of blackberries, sharing them with her when she took several long steps, gripped the wrist of a man who looked to be about forty and twisted.

  He stood back and watched.

  Her head tipped to the side and shook slightly before her free hand reached inside her jacket and she flashed the badge she had. He watched as she walked to take the wallet back to the young mother who had been busy with buying and baby and neglected her bag. Natalie had her head next to the man’s head, her lips moving before she released him and watched him head down the street, looking over his shoulder as he went while rubbing his wrist.

  “Nice work.” Tre offered the berries.

  “Thanks. Not sure if I should have set him free or not but…” She shrugged.

  “I have to think calls like that are hardest of all,” Tre continued walking with her around the stalls. “The victim is hurt and who knows the back story on the thief. I don’t envy you the choices but I think trusting your instinct has to be a huge part of the job. I hate putting stress on the victim, but some people do set themselves up.”

  He bought another basket of berries and joined her on the curb, leaning back and listening to the street musicians and watching the dancers.

  “This is nice,” Natalie crossed her ankles, long legs stretched out while he sat partially cross legged on the edge of the sidewalk. “There are so many of these around the area.”

  “You stopped doing a lot of things you enjoyed the last several years. All because of this guy?” Tre watched the tan chest rise and fall.

  “I guess you can say because of him. Because I was angry with me. I think that’s the bigger part.”

  “So you have to be perfect and never make mistakes?”

  “Why do you have to make sound like I’m an idiot all over again?” A startled yelp left her lips when she found her shoulders grasp and turned until she was half lying over his lap.

  “You are not an idiot. You are, however, a little hard on yourself. How about cutting yourself some slack? It’s not a crime to trust someone,” he said easily. “It should be to betray that trust, but then we’d never see the light of day in the courtrooms.”

  It was that sugary grin of his, she decided. He made her laugh. Again.

  She shifted a little to the side, reached for the box of berries and held one out to him, popping it into his mouth.

  “I’ve listened to my friends tell me all that the last few years. I thought once it was over…once I didn’t have to deal with questions from the lawyers over and over again,” she didn’t know why, but it was easy to relax against him, laying her head on his chest. “I never wanted to press charges. I just wanted out. I just wanted it all behind me. I was going to just let the department deal with all his other issues of what he’d done to them.”

  “Your family?”

  “Alex was my attorney,” she peered up through her lashes at him. “My other brother.”

  “How did you not come out of it with restitution?”

  “Because I went behind his back and spoke to the other attorney and the judge. I wanted it ended. He doesn’t have anything. As long as he’s out of my life, so I can move forward, that’s all I wanted,” she laid her head back down, listening to the steady, strong heartbeat.

  “I bet you had a really pissed off attorney.”

  “And father and mother and brother and probably a few other relatives. But they didn’t get that it wasn’t them being dragged through everything over and over,” she closed her eyes. “I just wanted peace.”

  Tre tightened his arms a little, his lips brushing her head. “Then it’s peace you shall have, Miss Templeton. You have your phone shut off?”

  “No,” she reached into her pocket and pulled it out. “I just have certain people sent directly to voice mail.”

  “You do know that little sc
ene this morning is probably being discussed right now.”

  “Oh, they’ve probably already hired a private eye to find out all your past sins and indiscretions,” she told him, leaning back and surprised at the laugh he offered. “It doesn’t bother you?”

  “Before I answer that, for the record, Miss Templeton, never put yourself between me and anyone. I can take care of myself.”

  “Craig can be…physical. It’s how they intimidate people.”

  “I can handle myself,” he repeated softly. “And why should it bother me if they investigate? They won’t find anything that I don’t want known. There’s a boatload of awards and patents out there for them to weed through so it’ll keep someone busy and probably cost your father more than he imagined,” Tre shrugged. “We could save him time and I can shoot him the information from the human resources department at the resort.”

  “Naw…why take away his fun. Besides, it’ll keep him busy for a while.”

  “And off your back.”

  “I avoid well.”

  “Comfortable?”

  “As a matter of fact…some idiot was throwing pebbles at my bedroom window before I was ready to be awake this morning,” she snuggled down against his chest, her arms circling his waist.

  “It’s your fault for turning me down last night.” He listened to her laughter against his chest, his palm up and stroking down the woven braid. “Let’s find a restroom and head to the ferry.”

  “Can I change plans when I’ve been kidnapped?” She accepted the palm he offered and stood in front of him on the curb. Grinning, she leaned closer, her arms along his shoulders.

  “I try and be a benevolent kidnapper.”

  “There’s a book store right down 45th…and then the afternoon at the pool.”

  “Hmm…” His hands went to her waist, just holding her in place. “I do love exploring book stores.”

  “I noticed the collection yet to be put away. I could help.”

  “As long as I get a rain check on the ride that doesn’t involve me wheedling or whining,” Tre grinned at the bright laugh.

  “Deal. See…” She stepped down and linked her arm with his, her purchases swinging from the bag in her other hand. “That was negotiation.”

  She stored her fruit and vegetables, waiting while he mounted and released the stand. She had the helmet secure as she slid behind him, relaxing and staring around her.

  “Directions,” Tre said once he was facing the right direction and headed down the quiet Sunday street. It was almost noon by the time they stopped at her apartment and she packed a tote, sending him reluctantly off on the bike with a promise to be right behind him in her car.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tre left the gates open when he entered his driveway, the bike pulled into its covered spot and his helmet left resting on the chrome backbar. He pulled his phone out, nodding at a couple texts from friends and tapped in Carter Shipley’s number, waiting patiently for the answer.

  “Good afternoon. How’s the newest physician to join the reclamation?” Carter was grinning, watching Anna work with some new plants she’d found for the back patio.

  “Excited,” Tre answered honestly. “You sound in a good mood.”

  “It’s a gorgeous June day. How can you be in a bad mood when it’s like this up here?”

  “Decent answer. I need your talents. I know you find missing people, what about items and human information?”

  “As usual, you pose an interesting question. What are you searching for?” Carter lifted the note pad at his side and had his pen poised.

  “I just shot you the photo and the name of the previous owner. What I want to know – who owns it now and everything you can find me about that person. I also sent you another name that I want completely in-depth data on,” Tre stared at the stone lining the driveway, his mind turning around several options.

  “Nice bike,” Carter complimented. “What happened to it?”

  “She made the mistake of putting someone else’s name on the title with hers. He sold it out from under her. I don’t have the full story on what else he took besides her self-confidence, but I’m working on it,” Tre assured him.

  “Can’t recalling hearing that hard a tone in your voice in a very long time,” Carter made notes on the pad from the email he was reading.

  “Can’t recall feeling this pissed in a very long time,” Tre said with a casual shrug, stepping from the bike and heading to the front doors.

  “I’m guessing you’re wanting to retrieve the bike.”

  “Maybe. It might be better for her to build another one…I’m not sure yet about that part. At the moment, just information gathering,” Tre shrugged out of his jacket, hooking it over a chair and sitting to remove his boots.

  “There’s finally a she in your life?”

  “Why do my friends act as if I’ve spent my life being a monk?”

  “Because for the most part, you have been,” he laughed honestly. “And the ones we knew of during your lapses weren’t exactly…on the high level of the scale, let’s say.”

  “That stewardess was eight years ago. I’ve matured a bit since then,” he muttered good-naturedly.

  “I hope to hell you’ve matured a lot since then,” Carter said dryly. “You know you’re mother’s looking for you.”

  “Jesus…is she bothering you now?”

  “She just happened to be in the nursery when we stopped in yesterday afternoon,” Carter chuckled. “Something about her son, the doctor…”

  “She wants to throw some idiot party…” he sighed heavily.

  “And how many times have I told you go with the path and make it your own?”

  “I can feel the palm at the back of my head even as you speak,” Tre remarked tonelessly. “Huh…but this time you might have a good idea. You’re brilliant.”

  “Anna thinks so.”

  “You two available for Friday? I’ll have her set the party for then,” he nodded to himself.

  “Probably. Any excuse to get Anna into a dress works for me.”

  “I’ll get back to you. Thanks, Carter. Send me a bill. Talk to you later,” he ended the call and made sure the kitchen was cleaned after his cooking spree that morning. One thing Mrs. Yang hated was him leaving a mess he made. He had the patio doors wide and the pump running on the pool by the time he heard her come through the gates. He had changed to trunks and a t-shirt, striding out to the porch and locking the gates once she was inside.

  Natalie watched him step onto the porch when she was barely past the gate opening, hands in the pockets of his trunks. She’d done nothing but question her behavior the whole time she was folding clothes to tuck into her pack. She even sat for a few minutes just staring out the window in her bedroom, his words about giving herself a break echoing in her head.

  Tre came from the porch, crossing the bricked drive and opened her door for her.

  “You were worried I’d change my mind,” she said, hooking the tote on her shoulder and walking with him toward the house.

  “I entertained the thought. Part of me knows you’re strong but another part realizes you’re still recovering,” Tre closed the door behind them, setting the alarms before continuing on to the open doors leading to the back. “I put some towels out there. I have a few things I have to take care of and I’ll join you.”

  “Alright,” she opened the tote and set the fruit she’d bought on the counter, taking some of the apricots with her. So maybe he thought she was a little wacko. Confused. She couldn’t blame him. She sighed. Hormones. Always blame the hormones. It’s the safest answer when the brain is confused.

  Tre watched her go out, stopping by the CD player and cueing up a station with nice music playing. Swaying, alive music. She wore a one piece deep wine colored swim suit today and he shook himself from watching her strip out of the jeans and fold them before stuffing them into her tote, the tee shirt she’d worn following before she dove into the pool.

  He foun
d the earpiece for his phone and clipped it to his waistband before tapping in his mother’s number and opening a box of books. He was in the process of stacking them on the large old wooden desk when the northwestern drawl that she’d never been able to shake came through into his ear.

  “This number is so very strangely familiar,” said the soft, feminine voice with just a hint of New York. “I think I used to have a favorite son with this number.”

  “I’m your only son, mom,” Tre laughed at her.

  “As far as you know,” she teased with a chuckle. “Why do I have to go through the area of all your friends before you call me back?”

  “You know why.” He listened to the deep sigh. “But if you agree to a few things, I’ll let you throw your party.” Tre almost felt the words choke through his throat.

  “Since when did you become so antisocial?” She demanded, back to her old self, teasing and loving her son beyond anything she ever thought possible. “We are so proud of you! We have the right to show you off, so just you accept it young man. Now…what conditions?”

  “Friday.”

  “I can do that. Next.”

  “I want a CD turner, a DJ – not some old music band that’s boring.”

  The blond and tan highlighted short hair barely moved as her head tilted slightly to the side. She knew her son very well. There was a reason behind the conditions.

  “Alright. Music to dance to,” she guessed thoughtfully. “I can do that, too. Next.”

  “You’re going to put up a banner, aren’t you?” He listened to the silence. “Fine. I’ll accept that. But I want a second banner.”

  “A second banner,” she repeated slowly. “And what do you want this second banner to say?”

  “Congratulations to the new Lieutenant Natalie Templeton.”

  Tre wasn’t surprised at the silence. His mother was notorious as a thinker in their family.