She chuckled quietly as she walked past me with her enormous bag. When I saw her struggling down the stairs, I went over to offer a hand. "Hey, thanks, Red."
"No problem." The bag must have weighed a hundred pounds. "I think it's great that you're planning this getaway, Poppy."
"Me too."
"But do you worry about breaching your contract if you don't appear on the set?"
"Not really. Hodges isn't going to sue me. I've got the goods on him, if you know what I mean." She winked. "No, I'm leaving a little puzzle for him to figure out, that's all."
When we reached the foyer, Poppy opened the front door and peeked through. "Ah! The car is here already. Now that's service."
As we stepped outside, I was surprised to see a black sedan waiting. "No limo?"
A driver hurried out of the car and set the bag in the trunk. "There are people you call when you want to be seen, and people you call when you have to leave in the middle of the night." She waited while the driver opened her door before turning to me. "You need a lift home?"
Relief hit me like a rainstorm. "Yes. I do."
The drive wasn't long, maybe a few miles, but I couldn't have done it barefoot. We didn't talk on the way there — Poppy appeared to be sending some messages on her phone. When the car finally pulled up in front of my building, I could have wept with relief.
"Thanks for the ride, Poppy. And good luck. I hope you enjoy your stay at the spa."
"Thanks. Oh." She grabbed my wrist just as I was stepping out of the car. "I think it goes without saying that everything that happened tonight needs to stay between us. Got it?"
I nodded enthusiastically. There was no way I wanted to be anywhere near the mess Poppy was making. "Got it. No problem at all."
"I'm serious." The change in her voice sent a chill down my spine. "If anyone finds out where I am, I will do everything I can to ruin you. Or your family."
My jaw dropped and I waited for her to tell me she was only kidding. She didn't. "Fine. I told you, this is going to stay between us."
"It's nothing personal." She released my wrist and sat back in her seat, crossing her long legs. "I'm sure you understand."
The driver shut the door and hurried around to his side. I stood there watching as the sedan backed away and sped off into the darkness, thinking that I didn't understand at all. This is one business that I would never, ever understand.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I flung the gown, the corset, and the shoes into the bathtub and scrubbed my face raw trying to get the makeup off. One of the false eyelashes had survived my plunge in the pool, but I forgot about it and accidentally washed it down the drain. Exhausted, I slept late the next morning, lost in a deep, dreamless sleep that wrapped me like silk, and when I woke, I felt like a new person.
No more games or celebrities. I was going to finish and polish my screenplay, to embrace the new challenge of being ordinary Wren. I was finished playing fake girlfriend to Jax. It was time to move on.
I wasn't sure what to do with the ruined gown. All I had were a few wire hangers, but this wasn't the time to get anxious about something like that. I mean, I'd gone swimming in the gown the night before — was a wire hanger worse? I hung the dress in the closet and set the corset out to dry on a towel rack. Then I showered, dressed, and prepared to start my day.
It was a gorgeous morning, thick with the smells of summer: cut grass and hot pavement, popcorn from a cart by the beach. The whole time I was walking around, enjoying my day, I was thinking about how I'd have to call Jax. The charade, playing his girlfriend — it was fun and all, but it had to end. I wasn't cut out for caviar and diamond chandelier earrings. No sir, no more vain actors for me. As I swung into Hedda's, I felt at peace.
"'Morning, Jess," I said as I headed past the register.
She was preparing and wrapping pre-made sandwiches for the grab-and-go cooler. "Hey. I thought this was your day off?"
"'Tis. I thought I'd stop by and pick up a few items." I paused in front of the display case and greeted the college student running the coffee machine. "Hi, Emily. How are you?"
"Great, thanks." Emily, who looked like a porcelain doll with her light-brown hair and her slightly upturned little nose, was wiping down the counters. "Hey, you missed all the chatter this morning. Rumor has it there was some disturbance on the beach."
"Really?" I looked to Jessie for confirmation. She nodded. "What happened?"
"We're only getting gossip at this point." Jessie set a turkey sandwich covered in plastic wrap on top of a stack and went to work on the next one. "Someone knows someone else who was talking to someone who saw the police cars on their walk this morning."
"Maybe one of those parties got out of control," Emily said. She was pre-med, very studious, and probably thought most parties were out of control. "I dated a guy who lived on the cliffs, and it was constant at night. Drinking and bonfires. I don't think fights were unusual." She paused to brush a few stray strands of hair out of her face.
"Who knows," Jessie said. "I'm sure we'll hear something about it sooner or later."
I studied the decadent goodies in the pastry display: chocolate chip, orange, and lemon poppy seed scones; blueberry, cranberry, and coffee cake muffins; cinnamon rolls; and buns drizzled with glaze. Jessie was adding a selection of large cookies. Jax had bought me a new wardrobe. I might as well bring him a little something to say "thank you."
I walked behind the counter and selected a small box, lined it with tissue paper, and started selecting some pastry. Tough choice, but I picked out a few blueberry and coffee cake muffins, two cinnamon rolls, and two giant chocolate chip cookies. Jessie watched me with interest. "I see you've finally decided to do something about that little waistline of yours."
"Someone is fixing my bike," I fibbed. "I thought I'd bring him something to thank him." I slid the display shut and set the box on the counter. I should've known Jessie wouldn't let me end the matter so easily.
"Him?" Jessie paused mid-sandwich to look at me. "Who's fixing your bike?"
She was watching me, but I avoided eye contact. Was I attracted to Jax? Yes, I couldn't hide that, but the situation was complicated. My stomach burned at the memory of the kiss at the party last night, but see, this was the problem: he was pretending, and I couldn't. My heart was thundering at the thought of seeing him, and my hands were shaking as I closed the lid of the box and taped it shut. There was nothing to do but reclaim control by breaking things off.
"Dennis Callaghan," I muttered, naming the seventy-something owner of Mike's Bikes. Hopefully he wouldn't be coming into Hedda's any time soon. Hopefully Jax hadn't made good on his threat to sell my bike for scrap.
Jessie leaned one hand into the counter and groaned. "You're killing me. I was hoping you were bringing them to some hot mechanic. You know, finally moving on from Griff."
"This has nothing to do with Griff. Who I'm over, by the way." I picked up a piece of a caramel truffle that Jessie had set out for customers to sample. "Anyway, who are you to talk? You're not dating anyone."
"I'm busy," she said, setting one hand on her hip. "I'm starting a catering business, trying to save this bakery, for God's sake."
"Morning, honey," Dad said as he came closer, carrying a silver bowl filled with fruit salad.
"Hi, Dad." I took a small bite of the truffle. "This is amazing, as usual, Jess. Your chocolates are better than sex."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Dad said, not even looking up.
"Yes, plug your ears, Uncle Hank. You too, Emily," Jessie directed. Then she turned to me and lowered her voice. "Don't break my heart, Wren. My truffles are great. I'd even accept that they're the best in the region, but better than sex?" She shook her head sadly. "Then you've been doing it with the wrong people."
I stepped out of the bakery with my box of pastries and headed in the direction of the inn. It was after noon, and surely Jax would be awake by now…right? I paused in front of the police station and pulled out my
cell phone. Better call to make sure.
As I dialed, a familiar figure lumbered out of the front doors of the squat, brick building. He was a regular at Hedda's and an old classmate, and I recognized that swagger immediately: Cassius DeLuca. With dark blond hair and a square jaw, Cash could have been typecast as a cop. But things with me and Cash had always been a little strained. I think it went back to high school chemistry, when I'd accidentally set his backpack on fire. I still felt bad about it, even though I'd paid for a new one. Loyal-to-the-end Jessie referred to him secretly as Sergeant Square Pants.
When I saw him exit the station, I turned away a split second too late. "Wren. What are you doing here?"
I smiled tightly and waved my cell phone. "Just making a call."
From the look on his face, that response sounded suspicious. I can only assume that when you're a police detective, everything sounds suspicious. He continued to swagger over to my side. "In front of the police station?"
"Uh huh. Good reception here." I dialed Jax's number and waited for him to pick up, but only got through to voicemail. "Damn," I muttered, and stuck the phone in my bag.
In fairness, Jax couldn't have known I'd be trying to reach him, but being forwarded to voicemail still felt like being stood up. I didn't want to go back to my apartment to wait for him to call me. Maybe I'd go down to the beach, walk along the boardwalk for a while. I gave Cash a friendly wave. "Well, good to see you."
Cash wasn't about to let me go so easily. "Leaving so soon?" He pointed to the box under my arm. "What's in there?"
"Pastries."
"Mind if I see?"
I narrowed my gaze at him, but peeled the tape on the box back and lifted the cover. "See? Just some cookies and muffins."
He actually peered into the box before stepping back with a nod. "Looks good."
I smiled. "Why don't you take one? They're fresh."
"Really?" His face brightened momentarily and he selected a cookie. "Thanks. We've had some excitement this morning. You've probably already heard all about it."
"Yeah, I heard about some party on the cliffs. Archer Cove excitement, not like real excitement. Like a body."
A squad car pulled into the lot, but Cash didn't even acknowledge it. He was studying my face. "Have you heard anything about that?"
He wasn't laughing, so I guess it was a serious question. I cleared my throat and resealed the box. "No. I mean, I'm just speculating. Anyway, I'm sure you're busy. I'll get out of your way."
I was walking away when I heard a familiar voice. Then I turned and saw Griff getting out of the squad car.
"Hello, Mr. Dannel." That was Cash speaking, and he had one hand placed on Griff's shoulders. "Come inside. I promise this won't take long."
What the —? Griff looked like he'd been crumpled, straightened, and wrung out. The dark circles under his eyes told me he hadn't slept the night before. I changed direction and walked over to them. They were only about twenty feet away, but he clearly hadn't seen me. "Griff?"
He looked in the wrong direction, then in the right one. "Wren."
And that was it. He froze in place, staring at me and not saying anything. So I came closer. "Jeez. What happened? Is everything okay?" Cash still had one hand on his shoulder, and another officer was flanking his other side. I looked at Cash. "Is he under arrest?"
"No," Cash said, but he didn't elaborate.
Griff had changed out of his tux, but his shirt was buttoned improperly. I suppressed the urge to reach out and fix it for him. He stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Poppy's gone," he said. "I came back early this morning, and —"
Then Griff's face crumpled. Without warning, he reached out and embraced me. "Oh." I wrapped one arm around him, keeping my other on the box of pastries. Then as he started crying, I figured the hell with it and let the box fall to the pavement. "What happened?"
"That's what we're trying to find out," Cash said.
Griff was gripping me tightly, and I sort of felt weird about it, maybe because of the way Cash was eyeing us both. Poppy was at some spa in Maine, and anyway, hadn't Griff dumped me for her? Still, I felt a tug of guilt and patted him on the back. "I'm sure she's okay, Griff. Has she communicated with you at all? Maybe sent you a text message?"
He released me and stepped back. "Yeah. Last night she said she was — wait, I'll get it." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen. "She wrote, 'I'm ducking out. Don't come back tonight.'" He looked at me with a frown. "Where would she be going at that hour in a town like this? It doesn't make sense."
Damn auto-correct. I licked my lips and avoided his gaze as I thought about it. "Maybe she needed some time alone? Or something?"
He returned the phone to his pocket and whispered, "There's more than that. There was blood on the floor."
I blinked at him, my heart pounding. Blood on the floor? What the heck? Then I remembered the cuts on my feet, and I put my head in my hand. "Oh, Griff. Wow."
I was debating how best to explain the situation. Here's the thing. I've been playing fake girlfriend to Jax Cosgrove for, oh, about a week now. Funny story. I pulled Poppy out of the pool last night, and she sort of offered me a ride, and she's going to basically ruin me if I tell you this, but —
"Come on, Mr. Dannel," Cash said, gently taking him by the arm. "Time is critical, and we need to get your statement."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Griff only looked sadly in my direction and said, "Talk to you later, Wren."
Then they walked away, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. I somehow managed to pick up my box. I walked it through the parking lot to the edge of the municipal complex and found a bench. Then I sat down, willing my legs to stop shaking.
This could be fixed, I reasoned. Things would sort themselves out, and I wouldn't need to get involved. This was between Poppy and the rest of the world. Had I told her to vanish? No, I hadn't. They'd find her. It would be fine.
I decided to scrap the walk along the beach. I couldn't get back to my apartment fast enough, to put as much distance as possible between myself and the situation. I locked the door behind me and stood in the hall, biting my nails. Then I did the only rational thing: I headed for the refrigerator, where I'd stashed a box of Jessie's experimental dark chocolate truffles. Some of the flavors were exotic — things like rosemary mint and lemon lavender — but I didn't care. I didn't even bother sitting at the table, and instead ate them all while standing at the kitchen counter. Then I threw the box away. I didn't feel better. If anything, I only felt more disgusted with myself.
I flicked on the television, then turned it off again. I had to talk to someone who would understand. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my partner in crime. This time, he answered. "Hello, gorgeous," he crooned in a sleepy voice. "I was just getting up."
"Jax. We need to talk."
"We need to do more than that, baby doll."
"I'm serious." A note of panic crept into my voice. "It's about last night. Poppy is missing, and I think I could be a suspect."
I heard a shuffle on his end of the line, and when he spoke again, his voice was calm, but awake. "I'll meet you by the pier. Give me forty-five minutes."
CHAPTER EIGHT
He was on the beach when I arrived, sitting by himself on a bench a ways from the main stretch. I thought back to that first night when we'd met, when he'd looked like a movie star. Now, he was wearing cargo pants, a gray hooded sweatshirt, a baseball cap, and sunglasses. I could have easily passed him by without a second glance.
I'd bought a bag of popcorn from a stand — ostensibly for authenticity, but mainly because I hadn't eaten anything since polishing off those truffles. I was famished, but I wasn't exactly craving a kale salad.
"Hey there." I slid into the seat beside him, keeping my eyes focused on the sea. A few seagulls were marching around us, picking up trash from the beach and dropping it again. They came running when I tossed a few pieces of popcorn.
He looked in the
opposite direction. It was really a bit on the dramatic side, to be honest. "Do you think it's safe to talk?" he said.
"Sure. I don't think this bench is bugged."
He flung his arm casually between us and leaned in. "I've been doing some thinking."
"I thought I smelled smoke."
His mouth tightened into a line. "That's hilarious, Wren. You know, someone is dead here."
"Missing, not dead. And I had nothing to do with it." I looked at him. "But I'm sorry. You're right. I'll show some more respect." I held the bag of popcorn out to him. "Do you want some?"
"I thought you were worried about fat ankles?"
I shook the bag. "I don't really care about that right now."
"You're looking too thin, anyway." He hesitated only a moment before reaching over and taking a small handful. "You should talk to the police. I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding." He popped a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth. "What the hell happened after that party?"
I took a breath. "Look, here's the thing. Poppy gave me a ride back to Breaker House, and she was a mess, Jax. We talked for a while and then all of a sudden, she decides she's going to go to some spa in Maine, which I think is code for rehab."
"Seriously?" He relaxed his posture. "Then that's fine. Just tell the police that she's in rehab."
"Yeah, except she's doing this as some kind of weird revenge against Griff and Hodges Brennan." When I noticed the confusion on Jax's face, I shook my head and added, "Don't get me started. It's complicated, and the short answer is that she made me swear to secrecy."
"Or else what?"
"Or else she's going to create big problems for me."
Jax chuckled softly. "Poppy? She's full of hot air. What's she going to do to you?"
"She said she'd ruin me and the bakery. Not like it matters." Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks. "My dad has to sell Hedda's. It's bleeding money."
I swept at my eyes with the back of my sleeves, weeping quietly to myself. Then I felt Jax's strong arm wrap around my shoulders and pull me closer to his side. "You know how to solve this, right? You show your face to the world. As my girlfriend. Trust me, the crowds will follow."
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