Then Came You

by Susan May Warren

  Ree was making tea in the kitchen when Vivien came in and dropped the food bag on the counter. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Vivien looked away. Tried to remember some happy thought that might dam up the tears she hadn’t shed.

  “Viv?” Ree reached out a hand, squeezed Vivien’s shoulder. “What is it?”

  “He’s gone. Boone left town, the theater’s wrecked, and I am the biggest failure Deep Haven has ever known.” She walked to the couch and slid down on it, wrapping her arms around a throw pillow she pressed to her chest.

  Ree sat next to her. “Do you want some ice cream? We can skip the burgers and go straight to comfort.”

  “No.” She never wanted to eat ice cream again. “I’m not hungry.”

  Ree stared at her. Blinked. “What happened?”

  “The theater was completely wrecked. Like, someone totally destroyed it.”

  “Oh no!” Ree covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Yep. And Gordy blamed me. Can you believe that?”

  “What?”

  “And then Boone tried to step in, which should have been nice, but then that went all kinds of sideways and he grabbed Gordy. And then Kyle showed up. And then—” She shook her head. Clenched her jaw. “It doesn’t matter. Because even if some part of it could have been salvaged, Boone said awful things. I said awful things.”

  “Oh, Viv.”

  “I went to his cabin to apologize, but he’s already gone.” She waved her hand, as if she could dismiss her feelings. “He’s probably still in love with his ex. Couldn’t wait to hit the highway and head back to Kellogg.”

  “That’s not fair. Boone really did want to help you.”

  “Hardly. He called the play stupid. A stupid play. Well, wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

  Ree took her hand. “He was hurt, angry. He didn’t mean any of it.”

  “I thought maybe he was too. So, I went to talk to him. But he’d already left. Packed up and drove straight out of town.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  “Why are you siding with him?” Vivie sat up. “He’s probably already got the Chief of Police plaque ordered for his desk.”

  Ree gave her a look. “C’mon, Viv.”

  “I’ve failed. Again. I mean—how many times will I completely screw it up?” She stood and moved to the middle of the living room. “I used to run home to Deep Haven. And now? I don’t have a home anymore. This time, I’ve failed right here, in front of everyone who’s ever known me.” She blew out a breath. “Fine. I’m going back to New York. Because if I’m going to fail, at least there I can disappear into the plethora of has-beens and wannabes.”

  Ree got up also. “You’re not a has-been or a wannabe, Viv.”

  But Vivie shook her head, pulled out her phone from her pocket, scrolled through her contacts, and hit Send.

  “What are you doing?”

  He answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Ravil?”

  “Viv!” Ree said, reaching for the phone.

  Vivien turned from her. “Is there still a role for me?”

  The abrupt question had him pausing and for a second, her heart sank. Then, “Of course, sweetheart. How soon can you be here?”

  She stared out the window, at the sun setting over the lake, blood red across the waves. “I’m sure I can get a flight out tomorrow if one of the girls will let me crash at their place for a few nights.”

  “Done. Text me your flight information and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

  Vivien hung up, her hand shaking only a little.

  Ree was standing with her hands on her hips. “You can’t be serious, Vivie. Ravil’s a jerk, role or not.”

  “Let’s be real. People only love me when I’m someone else.” She moved into the bedroom and tugged out a suitcase.

  Ree followed her into the room. “I think you’ve told yourself that story since you were a little kid.”

  “It’s always been my experience.” She threw the suitcase on her bed and flipped it open.

  “You’re wrong.” Ree put her hand on the makeup bag Vivien had turned to grab, holding it in place.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. I think Boone’s still in love with the idea of his ex.”

  Ree released her grip on the bag. “No way.”

  “Yes. I really do. I think I am exactly what I tried to set him up for—a summer fling. A distraction.” She tossed the makeup into her suitcase and began tugging clothes from her dresser drawers.

  “You weren’t a fling.”

  “Let’s see—he said he doesn’t belong here. He was more worried about his promotion than the play he’d committed to. Ultimately, it all came down to appearances. He didn’t want to look like the bad guy. He didn’t want anything to tarnish the reputation he’d worked so hard to build and earn his place in his father’s life. That’s the whole reason he left Kellogg a month ago. To let the dust settle.” She shoved a stack of T-shirts into the suitcase.

  “I don’t think that’s true. I think maybe that’s how it started—but I think he came to want to be here. Honestly, Boone doesn’t strike me as a fling kind of guy.”

  Vivien threw her hands into the air. “Well, a guy doesn’t get over his first love. Not when he’s pined for her for that many years.”

  Ree stilled. “Seth did,” she said quietly.

  And now Vivien was the jerk. “Sure. Of course, Seth did. But, Boone, he’s different.”

  Ree stooped to pick up a pair of jeans that had fallen to the floor and gently folded them. “You’re wrong about him. Just because they love deeply and profoundly doesn’t mean they can never love another. It just takes the right time, the right set of circumstances.” She set the jeans onto the bed.

  “I shouldn’t have said what I said, Ree, but I didn’t mean Seth.”

  And, even if Boone had spoken out of anger and frustration, it didn’t matter. He’d also spoken out of his heart. She’d convinced him to go along with the play. Begged him when he was so set against it. So, really, why would he think her play was anything but stupid?

  She shoved the remaining pairs of pants into the suitcase and leaned her weight onto it to close the latch.

  “I need to buy my ticket.” She didn’t even try to make her half smile convincing.

  Ree remained silent and Vivien pulled up her airline app and punched in the flight details. “Look at that—I can get a flight tomorrow.” She tabbed through the ticket purchase. One way to the Big Apple. Her thumb hovered only a moment over the Buy tab.

  Then, “Done.”

  Ree shook her head. “Whatever. I’ll take you to the airport.”

  Vivien nodded and reached out to squeeze Ree’s hand. “Thanks. I need to make calls to the cast. Let them know the show is off. Apologize to the sponsors.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “Thanks, but I think I need to tell them myself. It’s my fault.”

  “It isn’t your fault, Viv.” Ree wiped tears from her face. “I’m gonna miss you.”

  “Me too.” But Vivien would not cry. She found her faux smile. “Hey—don’t be sad. This is what I’ve always wanted. I mean, how many times have you seen me off to New York City? This time, it’s gonna stick.”

  “Yes. I know.”

  Vivien riffled through the clothes still hanging in the closet. “Are you okay with me leaving stuff here for now? I’ll be back to pack it up as soon as we have a break in production. Probably Thanksgiving, if not sooner. I’ll cover the rent I owe.”

  “Sure.”

  And that was that. She knew exactly where she was going. Because, the truth was, she’d played the game of what-if and lost. And she didn’t plan on ever doing that again.

  Chapter 16

  The cold shock of his large, empty house punched Boone with reality when he slid off the couch the next morning. He hadn’t even made it to the bedroom before dropping his bags on the floor and falling asleep on the couch, watching old westerns. />
  You most certainly don’t belong with me.

  He turned off the television and made his way to the kitchen of his small ranch, opened the blinds, the rising sun casting sharp shadows across the room. The view of the street hardly compared to the lake view he’d enjoyed for his five—scratch that—four weeks in Deep Haven. He already missed the rhythm of the town. The people.

  Vivien.

  Even on its remote perch, his cabin in Deep Haven hadn’t felt so isolated.

  Kellogg, on the other hand, had definitely lost its luster.

  Worse, he’d left with a job undone. He still hadn’t figured out who’d been harassing Vivien. Or now, who’d destroyed the theater.

  He wouldn’t sleep until he solved that case. Until he knew she would be safe.

  Albeit without him.

  Yeah, he should have probably stuck around Deep Haven, if only for that reason.

  Vivien’s laughter twined into his memories. He could see her, animated, guiding the cast through the play. Sitting down at the piano to play with Courtney and Ellie after rehearsal. Even her jumping into the lake and her determination to not quit on Tasha.

  He pressed his hand against his chest. Yeah, the biggest heart problem he had was Vivien Calhoun.

  If he dared to admit it, he probably loved her. Loved her smile, loved her laughter. Loved her crazy ideas and wild enthusiasm. Loved every way she latched on to life with vigor.

  He shook his head. Yep, he definitely had a type.

  Vivien.

  Bold and courageous and so full of life. She was adventure and zeal and added a brightness to his day.

  She turned a plain, ordinary day into something extraordinary.

  Until he’d managed to do something to muck it up.

  Your stupid play. Well, that performance certainly wouldn’t win him the best supporting actor award. Nope. He might as well have just told her that her life dream was ridiculous.

  Because that’s really what he’d done. Even if he hadn’t meant a word of it.

  The knock at the door drew him from his thoughts.

  His mom stood on the steps. She wore a puffy vest with her jeans and T-shirt, her dark blonde hair piled in a messy bun.

  “Hi, honey.” She rose to her tippy toes and he leaned down to hug her while she kissed his cheek. “I brought you some fresh coffee cake.” She pushed past him and he closed the door. Followed her to his small kitchen.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  She plopped a pie tin on the countertop, the smell of cinnamon and her perfect crunchy streusel warming his kitchen. “I’ve missed you. It gave me a reason to stop by.” She slid out of her vest. “Oh, I have your mail too.” She pulled a stack of mail from her bag.

  “You can set it on the counter—and you don’t need a reason to stop by.” He walked over to the thermostat and turned up the setting to take the cool edge off. The hardwood floors captured the chill of the morning even as the sunlight turned them to deep amber. “How did you know I was back?”

  She winked. “Mrs. Thompson next door. She may have called me when she saw your car pull in.”

  “I was going to call.” Boone poured water into the coffee pot, placed grounds into the filter, and turned the pot on.

  “I figured.” She pulled plates from the cupboard and grabbed two forks and a knife. “But, when I heard you’d come back early, I was a little concerned.”

  “I’m a grown man. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  She paused. Studied him. “And who’s been cutting your hair? It’s getting long. Are you doing that on purpose?”

  “Mom.” He gave her a look. “It’s hardly what anyone would consider long.”

  She shrugged her shoulder. Smiled.

  She cut two slabs of coffee cake and plated them. “I’m your mom and God knows I spent enough years not acting like it. So, you have to let me be Mom.” She slid a plate to him. “It’s my job.”

  He sat down on a stool at the peninsula and took a bite of the cake, still warm from baking. “Oh, this is really good.” He took a second bite, then stood and grabbed the coffee carafe.

  She slid onto the stool next to where he’d been sitting. “Tell me what’s been going on.”

  “I’m on the short list for the chief job. A decision is due any day.”

  She swallowed her cake and wiped her lips with a napkin. “Well, that’s no surprise.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How was Deep Haven? The last time we talked, you said you were helping Caleb coach and doing something with a…play?”

  And, somehow, over coffee and cake, his mom drew out the sordid details of his summer. Maybe he’d spent too much time with Rachelle because he didn’t seem able to stop himself from blabbering on about Vivien. About the stalker and strange deliveries. About the play. Even about Vivien dangling from the rappel platform.

  “So, here I am,” he finished.

  “You love her.” His mom looked at him plainly.

  “I don’t know.” He got up and collected her plate, his, and put them in the sink.

  “Are you trying for plausible deniability?” She waggled her brow at him.

  He grinned as he ran water on the plates. “Well, I don’t think it matters if I do. I made the same mistake with her that I made with PJ. I didn’t stand by her. When it got down to it, I wanted to protect my chief prospect.” And frankly, she hadn’t stood by him either, had she? But maybe he deserved that. “And I let my fear nearly box her in.”

  He sat down again beside her.

  His mom ran her thumb back and forth along the handle of her third cup of coffee. “Boone, I’ve experienced God’s grace poured out on me. It changed me. Freed me from my past. From who I thought I was.” She placed her hand over his and squeezed, and he met her eyes. “Let God’s grace do the same for you.” She blinked back tears.

  “You sound like Caleb.”

  “I always liked that guy.” She smiled and took a sip. “Seriously. Don’t be afraid to allow grace to transform your life. You just don’t even know what’s possible.”

  Except, he knew his dad was counting on him getting the job and, well, how could he ever let him down?

  “For now, it sounds like you, Detective Buckam, have a case to solve.”

  “Right.”

  She walked to the sink and began washing their dishes.

  He grabbed a towel to dry and she handed him a plate. He paused. Watched as she washed their cups.

  I have redeemed you.

  Washed away.

  “Mom?”

  She continued scrubbing a stain, chatting. “And, no, I’m not saying I want you to leave Kellogg or that you wouldn’t make an outstanding chief. But you need to be who God tells you to be—”

  “Mom.” He turned off the water and stilled her hands, slipping the last cup from her fingertips and placing it on the drying mat.

  “What?” She looked up at him, clarity in her blue eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  Her head tilted, her eyes staying on his. “You’re welcome.” She dried her hands and wrapped him in a hug, her hand pressing his cheek against hers. “I love you, hon.”

  “I love you too.”

  She picked up her vest and walked to the door. “I need to get to Bible study. I think your dad is hoping to stop by tonight.”

  And, shoot. He’d much rather keep eating coffee cake with his mom.

  He closed the door behind her.

  You, Detective Buckam, have a case to solve.

  Boone grabbed his duffel bag and pulled out the notes from his last conversation with Kyle. Joslyn—yes, she still had to be the key.

  He found the phone number for Detective Rayburn of the NYPD, the one who’d promised to look into Boone’s questions when he had a spare minute. Well, Boone wasn’t waiting around for answers any longer.

  Time to make some calls.

  Unfortunately, dawn didn’t afford Vivien any peace. Her insides were still as wrecked and ripped ap
art as the playhouse. When she’d placed calls the night before to each of the cast members, she’d felt like she’d not only failed herself, but each one of them.

  All the time they’d put in. For nothing. And it wouldn’t even matter if Kyle solved the case. Whether or not he discovered the real culprit. Because the bridges had been burned for her.

  Even worse, she’d found the women’s Bible study flyer in her purse when she’d cleaned it out for the flight.

  She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.

  Nope. Not happening.

  She’d turned away the cast’s offers to help her clean up the theater. How could she let them do that?

  Maybe she’d left the door unlocked. Maybe she’d invited trouble into town. Maybe it was true—maybe trouble followed her.

  Whatever it was, she was the reason the place had been destroyed and she couldn’t let them spend their morning cleaning on her behalf. Cole and Kyle had taken a report. Walked through the debris looking for clues only to come up empty-handed.

  She just needed to clean up her mess and get out of Dodge.

  Except, where would she even start?

  All the large pieces Adam had built. The ones she’d painted with Issy and Ree and Mona. She lifted one of the large boards and looked at the underside.

  Would-be leaves covered in orange spray paint before being pounded apart.

  Her silver lamps in a thousand pieces.

  Like someone had taken a sledgehammer to every set piece. She tugged her work gloves from her bag and lugged a sizeable chunk of plywood across the floor and out the back door.

  An hour later, she tossed another chunk of broken set piece into the dumpster and made her way back inside. At least she was almost packed for her flight.

  “Knock knock.”

  Vivien jumped, her fingers gripping the metal-light housing she’d pulled from the debris pile.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Issy stood in the doorway in a pair of overalls, her curly brown hair tied back. “Hey.” She took a few steps in. “I heard what happened.”

  “It’s probably all over town by now.” Vivien tossed the fixture into the trash can.

  “Well, I may have overheard a few of your cast members drowning their sorrows in some cold brew down at Java Cup.” She blew out a breath as she stepped over broken glass. “I stopped by your house and Ree said you were here and refusing to let anyone help.” Issy picked up the box of trash bags and pulled one off the roll. “I brought gloves.” She whipped the trash bag open and pulled on her gloves. “And I’m not leaving.”