“Do you live here?”
Tom took a sip from his coffee mug. “Well, I did when I was little, but I moved away. I came back a couple of months ago for a two-week visit and haven’t left yet, so I guess you could say I live here.”
“Must be a pretty small town in the winter months,” I said.
Tom smiled. “Just gives me more time to learn the routine around here before the tourists start coming back and all hell breaks loose.”
I tried to drink a sip of my coffee, smelled the acrid scent of burned beans and put the cup back on the counter. Tom’s attention was split between entertaining me and being entertained by Marti. He watched every move she made through the open window into the kitchen, but glanced away if she looked up, too shy to be caught and too entranced to stop staring.
“Yeah, Surfside’s small but it’s grown a lot since I lived here.” He swiveled a little on his stool. “What brings you to the beach in the dead of winter?”
“Well, I met a guy who said he lived here. He made the town sound really beautiful. I thought I’d come visit, maybe run into him again.”
Tom’s attention switched back to me. “He doesn’t know you’re here?”
I tried to look embarrassed. “Well, no. You see, we met in a park two years ago in…New York, Central Park, and well, somehow we just started talking. He said I should come to Surfside Isle and look him up if I could, but…”
I looked down at my hands and bit the inside of my cheek thinking I should’ve taken up acting.
“I feel so stupid. See, he gave me his card and I lost it.”
Tom laughed, a rich, deep chuckle that made Marti look up from her place behind the window.
“You lost it? So you just came here looking for a guy who lives somewhere in Surfside Isle but you don’t know where? What’s his name? And why did you wait two years?”
I kept my head down. “I don’t know,” I murmured. “I can’t remember his name. You see, I was dating someone and so I didn’t think much of it at the time, but I kept thinking about him, I don’t know why, and when Glen and I broke it off, I suppose I…oh, I know, it’s stupid!”
Tom almost fell off his chair laughing. Marti slid chili and corn bread up onto the window’s counter and walked through the door to join us.
“What’s so funny about that?” she asked. “You mean to say you never met somebody, looked into their eyes and felt they could be the one? And then something happens and—” she snapped her fingers “—just like that, they’re gone and you never got a chance to see what was there. That never happened to you?”
Tom looked right into Marti’s eyes and smiled. “Yes,” he said. “And I made a resolution about that kind of thing. I don’t waste opportunities anymore.”
The force of Tom’s intensity seemed to radiate into the room, filling it with feeling and unspoken emotion. If it had been a two-by-four, the realization couldn’t have hit Marti any harder. Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she turned bright red.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh!”
I watched my chili grow cold in the pass-through window behind her for a long minute as Marti and Tom stood staring at each other, oblivious to anything and everything but their own, newly created world. It was Marti who dropped back into the reality of the moment and realized where she was.
“Your chili!” she said, practically throwing the bowl from shelf to counter.
“Thank you!” I scooted back as the bowl slid toward me, sloshing dangerously.
Marti picked up a rag and began swiping furiously at the counter between us, ignoring Tom.
“You don’t remember his name?” she asked.
I shook my head. The chili was hot and deliciously spicy. I’d almost lost interest in Mia Lange and her brother. Almost.
“What’s he look like?”
I choked. What the hell did he look like?
“Well, he’s about forty, I’d say, and um…well, you know…cute…average height, great eyes.”
I shoveled chili into my mouth and avoided eye contact. They had to think I was a total ditz. I couldn’t even describe him to them. Fortunately, Marti and Tom were too wrapped up in each other to pay too much attention to me. They tried, but I knew they were just waiting for me to leave so they could talk.
They made a halfhearted attempt to review the café’s regulars. By the time I’d finished the corn bread, they agreed that they hadn’t seen any “cute” men in their forties who lived year-round in Surfside Isle, but they did know how to direct me to my rental house.
I left with a clear idea of where I was heading, but the sinking feeling that finding Mia Lange’s brother would be no easy task.
My cell phone rang as I started the car.
“You buy bait?” Jake asked without preamble.
“No,” I answered. “Did you really think anyplace would be open this time of year?”
Jake sighed. “There are no problems,” he said, “only solutions. That’s why I’m calling. I stopped a while back and took care of it.”
In the background I heard Nina yell, “I told him it could wait!”
“Well, you can buy all the bait you want, but you’re not fishing until we find our client’s brother.”
Jake snorted. “How hard can that be? A small beach town can’t have too many regulars.”
I rolled my eyes and visualized myself punting him like a football out into the surf off Surfside Isle.
“We’ll be there soon,” he said. “We’re just crossing the bridge. How’s the house?”
“I don’t know. I’m just pulling up in front of it now. You’ll see for yourself in about twenty minutes.”
I rolled slowly down Forty-eight Street and pulled into the driveway of a small, brown-shingled cottage. The street was desolate. A few houses, including the neighbor to the left of our house, had lights on, but that was it. No one moved in front of the windows, no one walked down the sidewalks, nothing passed under the few lonely street lamps.
“The neighbor on the right has the key,” he instructed.
“The neighbor on the left,” I said.
Jake sighed. “She said right.”
“Depends on how you look at it,” I snapped. “See you when you get here.” I closed the phone, cut the engine and got out of the car before he could call back.
“Do I look like I need supervision?” I asked the car. “I didn’t think so!”
I walked across the short frozen brown grass to the house next door, a large blue-shingled thing that looked more like a series of boxes than someone’s cozy beach cottage.
I started up the steps, saw a white envelope with Aunt Lucy’s name on it, and stopped. Inside was the key. I looked back up at the house for signs of life, saw none and shrugged.
“That was easy,” I muttered. “No muss, no fuss. Guess they didn’t want us waking them up.” I looked at my watch. It was barely after nine. “Old people,” I sighed.
I walked back to the Buick, grabbed my purse, my gun and my keys. I took a long look up and down the deserted street. The sound of the surf pounding the shore behind me and the scent of salt air couldn’t override the silent alarm that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
I whipped around and thought I saw the slats on the neighbor’s blinds drop quickly back into place. I stared hard at the darkened window but saw no further movement.
“You’re seeing things,” I muttered. “You’re like a kid scared of the dark. Get a freakin’ grip!”
I walked up the narrow concrete walkway to the house, climbed the steps to the glass-enclosed front porch and fit the key into the lock. I stopped, listening to the sounds of the vacant house before fumbling for the light switch. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the creaks and squeaks of a windblown beach cottage.
I flipped on the lights, stepped inside and locked the door behind me. I was standing in a cozy, beachside cottage that could’ve been furnished by my grandparents. Overstuffed recliner, blue tweed couch, braided
rag rug and knotty-pine walls. Someone had hung café curtains with cheery, yellow rickrack in the kitchen, and a large rectangular table with mismatched vinyl-covered chairs took up the eat-in area.
“Homey,” I said out loud.
Still, I found myself reaching to pat the Glock tucked securely behind my back as I walked through the rest of the house. One bedroom and bath downstairs that would do for Aunt Lucy; no one would hear her snoring if she slept in the back of the house. But this left only two bedrooms upstairs; one with two double beds and one with a queen. Shit. How was that going to work? I couldn’t sleep with Aunt Lucy; no one could sleep with snoring that sounded like a jet engine roaring in their ears all night. Spike and Nina were virtually newlyweds, so that left their room out as an option. I was not sleeping in a bedroom with Jake Carpenter. No way.
Of course, the second I told myself I wouldn’t, all I could think about was, what if? My imagination went wild. I thought about it, pictured us starting out in two separate beds, then somehow, overcome with either revenge or lust, ending up in one bed, and then, well, I didn’t let myself go there, at least, not for long. Okay, so I thought about the two of us, horizontal and naked. Thought about it so hard and long that when I heard the front door open, I jumped up, grabbed the Glock, and might’ve shot somebody from sheer frustration.
“It’s freezing in here!” I heard Nina complain. “She didn’t turn on the heat yet?”
“Where are you?” Jake called.
I darted out of the bedroom.
“You guys made good time,” I called, sticking the gun back in my waistband.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Jake materialized on the landing and gave me a lopsided grin. “You said time was of the essence, didn’t you?” He looked at me, maybe noting the flush on my cheeks, and said, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just got here myself. I was just checking out the bedrooms—I mean, looking around, you know.”
Oh, he knew all right. I had the feeling he could look right past my face and into the most hidden recesses of my mind. What in the hell was wrong with me?
I started down the steps, intending to brush past him, but he stopped me, his hand firm on the crook of my arm.
“We need to talk,” he whispered. “Without the others. Later.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is it about the—”
“What are you two doing?” Nina stood at the bottom of the steps watching, a knowing smirk playing across her features.
“Nothing!” I said. “I was just telling Jake about the house. It’s a relic.”
“Uh-huh,” Nina said. “I bet.”
I moved away from Jake, trotted down the steps and joined the others. Aunt Lucy was inspecting the kitchen cabinets, pulling each door open, studying the contents and sighing, clearly not pleased.
Lloyd followed her, sniffing at her heels, now and then looking up and around. If I didn’t miss my guess, he was feeling as wary as I had. Something about the small house just didn’t sit right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, and apparently Lloyd couldn’t either, but we both had that feeling.
Spike wandered out into the family room, coming from the direction of the downstairs bedroom, and stood staring up the stairway to the second floor.
“Couldn’t you just see this place as the setting for a slasher movie?” she asked quietly.
“Oh, my God!” Nina gasped. “That is totally not good for my serenity. I am so not going to sleep with that on my mind!” She stopped, dropped into a lotus position in the middle of the room, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Cleansing breaths,” she whispered to herself.
This fascinated Lloyd. He watched for a moment, and then wandered over to stand right in front of her.
“Umm…” Nina intoned solemnly.
Lloyd cocked his head to the side, his tongue lolling out as he began to smile. Obviously Nina was inviting him to play some new game.
“Umm…” she moaned again.
Without hesitation, Lloyd leaned forward and licked her face ardently.
“Eww! Dog breath! Spike, do something! Oh, God! You dog!”
Nina’s eyes popped wide open and she reached out to push Lloyd away, but he ducked down and under her arms, bounding into her chest with a leap that sent Nina sprawling backward onto the floor.
“Help!” she sputtered.
“Oh, Nina, now honestly. Your uncle was only trying to reassure you,” Aunt Lucy said. “Benito!” she called. “Enough! She is a grown girl. If she wants to sit on the floor and moan, so be it!”
Lloyd, who had answered to my uncle’s name ever since he learned that it usually resulted in people food, stopped licking Nina immediately and trotted to my aunt’s side. She smiled and bent down to pat his head softly. “I brought pepperoni,” she murmured.
Jake crossed the room to stand beside me. “You see why I wanted to fish?” he whispered. “Your family is nuts.”
I rocked back with one heel and planted it squarely on the toes of his left foot. With steady pressure I transferred all my weight onto his defenseless foot.
“All right, all right!” he cried softly. “But you got to admit—” He broke off as I ground my heel in harder.
Spike offered Nina her hand and pulled the distraught girl to her feet. “Come on, honey,” she said. “Let’s go look upstairs. Maybe there’s a more appropriate place for you to meditate.”
Nina smiled up at her. “You wanna meditate, too?” she asked slyly.
Spike tilted her head, looked around the room at the rest of us, and shrugged her shoulders. “You never know,” she murmured.
Damn those two! They made it look so easy, not to mention special and intimate. Oh, well, some days you get the bear and some days, your love life just sucks. I wouldn’t let myself look at Jake. I knew he was watching me. The damn man was always watching me! Too bad he didn’t have a romantic bone in his muscle-bound body.
Aunt Lucy was unpacking groceries, setting bottles and boxes on empty shelves and muttering to herself.
“I know it’s a bit rustic,” I said, “but it’s only for a few days, just until I get a handle on Joey Smack.”
Aunt Lucy looked up, giving me one of her cut-the-crap glares. “I need to be in the lab,” she said. “The Household Shopping Show booked me back next week and I need product.”
So that was the problem. It wasn’t that she missed her kitchen and cooking homemade Italian specialties for us. My aunt had discovered a new forum for her inventions and she just couldn’t wait to go on the air again.
“Hey,” Jake said. “My grandmother saw you on there last week. She said you’re a natural. She said you had them eating out of your hand with that little-old-grandma act of yours.”
Aunt Lucy feigned shock. “Jake Carpenter, I never act. All I did was show the people how my homemade cleaner works on all surfaces.” Without even realizing it, Aunt Lucy had swung into gear, staring out at us as if we were the audience, smiling sweetly and gesturing to a bottle she brought out from one of her many bags.
“I thought I told you not to let her pack,” I muttered.
“It was that or face her digging in her heels and refusing to come,” he answered.
“I can’t disappoint my people,” she snapped. “I’m wasting valuable time here.”
I tried changing the subject. “So the guy on the float today, who was that?”
That stopped her in her tracks. “What guy?” she asked.
“She didn’t see him,” Jake reminded me. “We went out the back.”
I didn’t care. I was just happy for the working distraction. I told her all about the groundhog, about his float, the song and the way he’d danced across the platform. I was rewarded with the most unexpected reaction. Aunt Lucy’s eyes widened, and for a moment I thought I saw all-out panic.
“Huh!” she said, and turned her back to us. She started fumbling with the empty grocery bags next, carefully folding them, but having difficulty with the creases. Her hands shook ever
so slightly. Aunt Lucy’s hands never shook.
“Did I say something to upset you?” I asked.
Aunt Lucy opened the refrigerator door and stuck her head almost all the way inside it. I felt Jake go still beside me, watching.
“No, Stella, what makes you think a foolish thing like that?”
“Well, if you’re not upset, then why didn’t you answer me? Who is that guy? Don’t you know him?”
Aunt Lucy threw her hand up, waving it like a flag. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Stella Luna. He probably saw me on the shopping show and decided he needed a girlfriend. I don’t have time for that sort of nonsense. I have work to do.”
She still wouldn’t look at us, but I thought I knew why. She missed Uncle Benny and was embarrassed to be so publicly wooed. It was too soon, and frankly, I doubted there would ever be room for another man in her life. That’s why she insisted Lloyd was my uncle reincarnated. She couldn’t stand the thought of Uncle Benny really being gone. A dog was a safe enough way to keep suitors away. After all, men don’t want crazy women.
Jake touched my arm and gestured toward the front door. “Let’s go for a walk,” he murmured.
“But I don’t want to…”
“Yeah, you do,” he whispered.
Lloyd squirmed into the space between us, seizing on the word walk, and agreeing vigorously with the suggestion.
I rolled my eyes at Lloyd and grabbed my coat. “It’s freezing out there.”
Jake smiled. “It’s not so bad. Might go up to fifty tomorrow. Great fishing weather.”
He held open the door, waiting patiently while I wrapped a long furry scarf around my neck, tucked my hair up into a knit cap and pulled on wool gloves. Lloyd shot past him and ran down the steps, ready to explore his new turf.
When the door closed behind us, I was surprised that Jake didn’t move. He stood on the stairs, staring up at the sky, slowly surveying his surroundings with what seemed to be satisfaction.
“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” he said. “The sky’s so clear you can see every star, and the moon’s got a ring around it. Now, how often do you see that?”
I stamped my feet to keep them from going numb and wrapped my scarf a bit tighter around my neck. “Have you lost your mind? It’s gotta be twenty degrees out here!”
Stella, Get Your Man Page 6