A Shore Thing (13 page)

Bobby stepped up. Splatters of teal covered his shoes, pants, and fingers. “What’s going on with that, by the way? Henry stopped by yesterday and when I casually mentioned your concern, he seemed to think the whole project was a done deal.”

“How does he know?” The statement bothered me. “Does he have some inside information?”

Bobby shrugged. “Don’t think so. But as you probably know, he’s got a lot of friends on the new council, and from what he’s heard, they’re already poised to fast-track the project once the plans are completed.”

Plans. Gage’s plans.
“Fast-track? Tell me more.”

“Basically that means that once all the legalities are taken care of, development plans will be moved to the front of the stack for consideration, and if everything’s in order, they’ll get the stamp of approval more quickly than usual.”

“But why? What’s the hurry?”

Bobby picked up the roller again, dipped it in the paint, and rolled off the excess. “I really don’t know, Callie. It was just a casual conversation. Henry was in to discuss my plans to expand the storage center, and Tim Kitteridge happened to be leaving after a visit to his unit. I didn’t mention anything about it to him. Anyway, one thing led to another and suddenly Henry and I were talking about the Kitteridge property.”

“So if I were to do a little snooping at the planning department—”

“Don’t you dare. I need Henry’s support to expand my business so don’t let on that I’ve mentioned any of this to you. Wouldn’t want him to think I can’t be trusted with confidences.”

My forehead scrunched. “So he said all this to you in confidence?”

“No, nothing like that.” He stopped and sighed. “We were just shooting the breeze, but it would still look bad if he knew I was repeating our conversations.”

Greta touched Bobby’s arm. “Okay, you two. Either of you want a soda? All this shop talk is making me thirsty.”

I turned to her. “Actually, you really should be off your feet and as far away from wet paint as possible.”

“It’s that healthy paint!”

“But still.” I hugged her to me. “Come on, I’ll go with you to the kitchen.”

We left the room, but my mind lingered on the fresh news that SOS would have to work quickly to stave off the plans for the Kitteridge property.

GAGE

IT WAS EITHER A double espresso or this. A severe jolt of caffeine might have been the easier route, but coffee in the evening could have an adverse effect, one that might keep him up all night and put him back on the exhaustion treadmill. So he shed his jeans, pulled on a pair of shorts, and hit the ground running.

Maybe not
running,
but he was jogging all right. The stress of the past few months had put too much time between him and exercise, and to avoid injury he’d have to start slow.

He wound through the village, over the bridge, and past the inn-dotted road that abutted the beach. A couple and their two daughters sat at a window-side table at the Red Abalone Grill eating ice cream and something panged in his chest. Suz and Jer should be living that life. Instead, they had run away from their home and the stigma that came from living with a drug-addicted, incarcerated husband and father.

He pressed on, allowing the rhythm of his cadence to lull his mind away from the intricate knot that had formed in that impossible-to-reach space between the shoulder blades of his back. He hauled in a lung-filling breath. Seagulls sailed overhead, as did the occasional mallard, and even a formation of pelicans on their afternoon snack hunt. Although he felt a slight pull running down his calves, his breathing stayed even, and not surprisingly Gage felt stronger than when he had begun.

With his second wind providing the needed energy, he charged up a brief rise in the road so enthralled with the landscape that it had not occurred to him that once he crested that hill, he would be at the south end of the Kitteridge property. And there it was—the all-encompassing view, the rock he rested on, the man-made stairs down to the shore—all there. Not to mention, the memory of his verbal sparring with Callie yesterday.

Why did this woman he barely knew get to him so easily? His head dropped forward and he squeezed his eyes shut willing away anything that would hinder his workout.

Too late. He slowed to a pathetic jog and figured that at this point, he might as well consider it a brisk walk. He blew air from his lungs and glanced around. As the sun made its descent, so did the distraction of sound and memory. The sea had calmed, the scent from woody scrub surrounded him, and crickets had begun their night music early.

For once Gage wanted to walk this land without thinking about hindrances, to run across the expanse and consider the possibilities. True, in order to do that, he would also have to push away the snapshot in his head of preliminary drawings that showed just how thorough and far-reaching the coverage of this land would ultimately be. Still he dreamt. Progress was not evil in itself. If only he could find a way to be the bridge between the community and those who had hired him.

Heavy breathing galloped up from behind, and he spun around. A tan-colored dog with bright eyes greeted him, his pink tongue dangling out the side of his mouth. “Hey, boy. What are you doing out here all by yourself?” Gage squatted and petted the dog with one hand while grabbing his collar with the other. He fingered a makeshift tag. “Moondoggy, eh? Maybe your owner’s not as hard-nosed as she acts.” He rubbed Moondoggy’s head and neck. “It’s quite a mouthful but I like it.”

Holding onto his collar, Gage craned his neck, searching for Callie. All he spotted was an elderly man in a plaid shirt and jeans hiked up to his waist. Concern furrowed his brow. He turned back and cupped Moondoggy’s face, expecting to give him some reassurance before setting out to find the dog’s home, only Moondoggy sprung from his grip like a kangaroo in the outback.

“Wait!” He forgot about the gentle strain in his calves and tore off after the dog. If it were his animal roaming the town by itself, he hoped someone would do the same for him. At least he told himself that’s why he was doing this.

At the top of the hill, not far from where he’d met Callie and her new pet for the first time, Moondoggy halted like he had spotted a slab of raw beef hanging from a pine branch. Gage slowed not wanting to spook the dog again. The animal watched as Gage slowly ascended through a thick bed of dry pine needles. Then, just as he was about to take two final steps to reach the top, Moondoggy darted off again, this time back down the hill and in the direction of town.

Score: Moondoggy the mouse = one; Gage the cat = zero.

“Shoot.” Gage rested his hands on his knees while gulping air and watching the dog romp along until he was a far-flung speck on the land. He moved his hands to his waist, took a few deep breaths, then hobbled back down the hill. He was not surprised to discover Moondoggy waiting for him at the edge of the property as if to say, “Just so you understand, I’m the one in charge around here.”

Moondoggy stood on his hind legs and slapped his paws on Gage’s midsection, scraping his long front nails down his shirt. He eyed the dog. “So you think I’m going to pet you now? After all that?” He reached out then and gave the dog a begrudging rub of his noggin. “Yes, well, let’s get you home.”

He didn’t recognize the street name, so Gage had no choice but to follow the little guy home. Sure, he could’ve called Callie—his sister had given him her number for who knows what reason—but why give her fair warning of his arrival? He had her dog, and that meant he had leverage. She would have to put away her arrows and play nice.

A pang of something—guilt at the thought of watching her squirm—coiled through him.

He had barely reached the house when he heard, “Moondoggy!”

His remorse intensified when he saw her red-rimmed eyes. Callie dropped to her knees and threw her body over the pup with the wagging tail and happy jowls and hugged him. Gage stood there, trying not to look like a dork as he listened to her sniffling.

She looked up at him while still clinging to the dog. “Where was he?”

“Found him over at the Kitteridge property wanting to play. Tried catching him but he was too fast.”

Her eyes showed relief. “Well, then, thanks for staying with him until he made it home.”

Gage glanced at the cottage behind her. Simple structure with lime plaster exterior, frameless windows, and a meandering path of blue solar lanterns. “This your place?”

“It is.”

A small plot of cannas, asters, and lilies flourished in tended soil set away from the home’s foundation. A neatly formed berm surrounded the floral display. “You’re into rain gardening, I see. Impressive.”

A guarded look in her eyes returned. “It’s not that hard.”

“Some might disagree with you.”

“They’d be wrong.”

Of course, because everyone who has an opinion other than yours is wrong.
He cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Thanks again for bringing Moondoggy home. I don’t know what I would have done—”

“Don’t mention it, and I should be thanking you. He gave me the workout of my life.” Gage laughed and something lifted in his heart when he saw a smile shaping Callie’s lips. She had a natural beauty and might have been the first woman he’d ever met who didn’t run to put on lipstick before heading outdoors. He wondered if her skin had ever seen a puff of powder or whatever it was that women used daily.

She stood and hoisted Moondoggy into her arms unbothered by the dog’s weight and gangly limbs. “I’ve got a thing to get to. So, I’ll see you, I guess.” She batted thick eyelashes at him. Did she do that on purpose? He watched Callie climb the stairs of her porch, dash another look his way, then disappear inside.

Maybe, in another time, their friendship might have grown and flourished like that rain garden behind them. A beat passed as he stood on the path outside. When had he become so sappy?

Chapter Fourteen

“You’re late!” Ruth met me at the door of the RAG, a clipboard in her arms.

I blinked back tears. “Couldn’t be helped. Moondoggy got out and I couldn’t leave until he was safe at home again.” I didn’t mention that my knight was the known enemy, nor that his presence at my home had caused me to reel almost as much as my dog’s disappearance.

“Not to worry. I filled everybody in on the name of our group and got them all to give me their current contact info.” She tapped her clipboard. “They are all ready to do what must be done.”

My eyes hovered over her clipboard. Many of those I’d invited via e-mail had come. “Good. You can take notes.”

Quickly it became apparent that we had doubled in size. Familiar faces of our community sat around not one table, but two, some chatting amiably, others sending waves of heat with their frowns. The scene accelerated my pulse. Was I ready for this?

Ruth pulled at the sleeve of one of the newcomers until he hauled himself from his chair. “Eliot, I’d like you to meet the leader of our group, Callie Duflay.”

He was young and sprightly, with black hair spiked at the crown, and he wore wire-rimmed glasses in an apparent attempt to age him because he could not have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old. He slipped his pen and notepad into his left hand and reached out to shake my right. “Eliot Hawl, with the press, ma’am.”

“The press?” And had he just called me ma’am?

“SLO Press, covering county news. Hope you don’t mind if I sit in?” He puffed out his chest. “I will have questions.”

Media coverage. I had toyed with getting the papers involved eventually, but so soon? My mouth went dry like cotton and I tried to pull my thoughts together, the thoughts that had scattered about the neighborhood during my search for Moondoggy this evening. It didn’t help that when I called June this morning, she cried and begged me not to share their predicament with anyone else. She calmed way down when I presented her with my plan.

Now, it was time to convince everyone else.

You’re a leader, Callie, not a follower.
My mother’s words propelled me forward. I shook Eliot’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Glad you could join us today.”

When he and Ruth had taken their seats, I motioned for Holly. “Would you leave us a couple of coffee pots with more cream and sugar?”

The waitress with the unruly ringlets and bright smile nodded. “Will do.”

I glanced about the table, making eye contact and trying to remember everyone’s names. “Thank you all for coming. I see more have joined our cause, and that’s great.”

Eliot’s hand darted up. “Are you aware that the Kitteridge project is on fast-track status with the planning department?”

Stunned. The kid’s done his homework. If I answered him in the affirmative, I’d probably have to tell him how I knew. I kept my expression calm. “I will take questions after the meeting. Now, getting back to—”

“Once I heard what those Kitteridges were up to, I had to come!” A woman with a sharp nose and angry eyes crossed her arms in a huff.

A man across from her dumped the last of the sugar into his coffee then stirred it so roughly some of it splashed onto his place mat. “Selling to developers after all this time. I’ll tell you what—that Tim better watch his step at my feed store!”