A Shore Thing (22 page)

“Glad to hear that because if you were my mom, I wouldn’t be happy to know you were out here on this ridge after dark.”

I jerked to a stop, and this is where I made my mistake. I should have kept moving.
Just one foot in front of the other, Callie.
But no. For some reason, Eliot’s
my mom
remark irked me such that I spun around, my face registering exactly the emotion his words had caused.

And that’s when a second, blinding flash of light went off in my face.

Eliot glanced down at his camera screen and chuckled. “Perfect. This picture’s way better than that other one.”

Chapter Twenty-three

GAGE

Gage’s head ached almost as much as his eyes burned. While sitting at the breakfast table, he hung his head forward and stretched the muscles in his neck. The action, however, reminded him too much of Callie and the way she made a similar move while seated across from him at the diner. He lifted his head and the throbbing continued.

Suz set a cup of coffee in front him. “Here. Drink this.” She leaned through the doorway. “Jeremiah, stop that racket. Your Uncle Gage has a headache!”

Should he mention that shouting didn’t help?
He chugged the coffee, thankful he hadn’t had to grind the beans and brew the pot himself.

“You seen the paper today?” Suz glanced at him over her shoulder, pursed her lips, and looked away. “Suppose not. You must’ve had a hard night, because your eyes are more red than the apples I picked up at the store. You want a slice, by the way?” She held out a crescent slice of apple to him.

He waved her away. “Not hungry. Thanks.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but here.” She dropped the paper onto the table in front of him. “Thought you might be interested in this article mentioning my boss. Not a very good likeness, unfortunately. Sounds like she might be getting herself into some trouble.”

Gage’s forehead shifted forward. “What kind of trouble?”

Suz gestured toward the paper. “See for yourself.”

He adjusted his glasses, blinked a couple of times to get his eyes to focus, and realized how old the prescription must be. His contacts had outworn their welcome last night, and he’d had no choice but to put on an old pair of specs. “Where?”

Suz sighed. “You are worse than Jeremiah today, you know that?” A slight smile flexed his mouth as Suz reached over him and turned to page A2. “There, see?”

He did see, and unfortunately Callie’s scowl in the picture was all too familiar. She’d looked the same way at him when he’d found her last night, spying in that cleft of trees.

“Says there she might have been doing something suspicious.” Suz ran a wet paper towel over Jer’s mouth as he clamored into the chair next to Gage. “I really like working for Callie but didn’t get to see her all that much yesterday, so I have no idea what that girl was up to. She’s so funny. Did you know she has little verses tacked on her walls?”

Gage squinted at Suz.

“She really does. Psalms and proverbs—all kinds of inspirational sayings—hand printed on cards and tacked in weird spots. I spent most of yesterday patching the walls.” His sister sighed. “Anyway, you think she was spying or something, like that reporter suggests?”

Gage’s cheek twitched. She was doing something all right. With him. As for the spying, he’d have to take the Fifth. “Who knows.”

Suz flopped down next to him. “Says there she was caught walking out of some bushes up at the Jamison’s house late at night. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

He forced his face into a bland expression. “If it’s true. Did it say what she might be looking for . . . if she were actually spying?”

Suz eyed him. “Says here she told the reporter there was a party going on in the house, but see how he uses the words ‘according to Ms. Duflay’ and ‘Ms. Duflay claimed he was mistaken’? You’d think we were reading the tabloids or something right here at the breakfast table.”

“You say that like it’s a sin.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as all that, but it sure isn’t healthy, reading about things that might not be true. It’s called gossip and from someone who’s been on the other side of all that ugliness, well, it’s not good. I can attest.”

For the most part Suz held in the pain that had brought her all the way across the country to live with him. Occasionally, though, a wound would surface the way a change in weather might arouse an old injury. Something in Gage’s chest twisted at the thought of all his young sister and nephew had been through.

He closed the paper. “Then I think we should just let it be.” Guilt flicked him. “Suz? I should mention that I, uh, was invited to a gathering up at the Jamison’s last night.”

She sat down. “Really? Did you go?”

He hesitated. If he told her yes and she asked follow-up questions, he might end up telling her about things that he had not fully vetted himself. Plus, Callie’s presence on the property would certainly substantiate the reporter’s claims—and how would that make her look to Suz?

He shook his head. “Should have, but didn’t make it after all.”

Suz nodded. “Well, it’s a good thing. You’ve been working too late as it is. Just look at those eyes beaming like brake lights at me. Besides, if you weren’t careful, you might’ve had your mug plastered all over the newspaper just like Callie.”

Now there was a disastrous thought. He saw the title inked across his mind: “Architect Sleeping with the Enemy.” He’d certainly have plenty of explaining to do—on all fronts.

Gage downed the last sip of coffee as Suz left the kitchen to get Jer ready for preschool. He winced as it trickled down his throat cold and thick. In the silence he had no control over his mind, which flickered over the memory of Callie and last night: her soft skin against his face as he kissed her so brazenly.

Awfully forward of you, Mitchell.

Yeah, but she didn’t resist. At least, not at first.

No doubt about it. As the fight for the Kitteridge property dragged on, Gage felt certain that the tabloid-esque nature of the debate would become worse.

Chapter Twenty-four

“Well. You didn’t waste any time. Did you?” Sheila’s voice provided my first human connection of the morning. I tried to think of what might have been worse, but nope, couldn’t think of a thing.

I yawned as Moondoggy clicked down the hall toward my bedroom. “Not sure what you are referring to, sis.”

“First you go on television, without telling your sister, and now I see your face in the morning newspaper. A less than becoming photograph too.”

I sat up and shook away my early morning disorientation. “The newspaper?” Pulling on my robe, I slid into a pair of ratty slippers and padded to the front door, craning my neck to see where the paper delivery guy had tossed it.

“Page A2. Quite the story too. You weren’t really sneaking around in someone’s bushes, were you?”

Where is that paper?
I spotted it near the front walk,
of course,
and padded out to get it. None of me had seen a mirror yet, like I cared, but in case Eliot lurked nearby with that camera of his, I’d rather not be discovered in my robe and slippers.

Pulling the rubber band and an attached envelope from the folded paper, I slipped back inside. “Where is it again? Oh. Wait. I’ve found it.”

“Kind of hard to miss.”

My heart sunk deep into my core and my skin prickled as if chilled. Not only was the picture hideous, but as I scanned the article it became obvious that Eliot had planted the piece with speculation and conjecture, having forgotten everything he’d learned in Journalism 101. Who cares if it was the truth? This ruined
everything.

“Jim’s concerned about you, Callie.”

I slapped the paper onto the table. “Jim? I can hardly believe that.”

“What a thing to say. He’s your brother and he’s concerned that you might find yourself with charges of trespassing leveled at you. I know your causes mean the most to you, but this is serious, little sister. Pay attention.”

I sunk into the couch, wishing I could crawl back into bed and revisit the dream I’d been having about finding a treasure map and sailing away on calm seas to seek my fortune.

“Are you even listening?”

“Yes, Sheila, I heard you. I doubt seriously that any charges could ever be filed against me because it would be my word against that reporter’s.”

“But he has a picture!”

I glanced again at the unflattering shot and winced. My wretched, scowling face filled the whole frame. “That picture proves nothing. Well, other than my mood. He could’ve taken that at the RAG or in church, for all we know. You can tell big brother not to worry his legal mind over me. I’m not.”

My sister sighed and paused, most probably to give me time to think about all I’d done. She sighed again. “For someone who’s created such a stir and raised a lot of money in a short time, you’ve become downright surly. Look at that picture of yourself—you would think you had just fought off the enemy with that glare in your eye.”

Sheila was right about that and her words gave me pause as I thought back on the night and all that had transpired. Although Eliot surprised me by showing up with his notebook and camera, Gage’s sudden appearance startled me most. And not in a bad way, exactly. I barely had time to digest the emotions that had shown up with him, uninvited. Frustration, anger, and longing had all traced their way through me leading to that awkward, surprising, savory kiss.

I felt my body blush at the memory. “Probably had something else on my mind.” I forced a laugh. “Like that time Brenna ran around with your camera on Thanksgiving, shoving it in everybody’s faces. A lot of those pictures, as I recall, were less than attractive.”

“Speaking of my darling daughter, you owe me seven dollars.”

“Really? Why?”

“For ice cream. You didn’t show up and the children were crestfallen. Don’t worry. I covered for you
as usual.
”

I covered my face with my hand. “Oh no, no, no.” How could I forget the promise I had made to Brenna and Blakey? “I am so sorry, Sheila.”

“It’s no biggie, but you will have to tell them that.”

“I will. How about later today? Could I pick them up in the afternoon and—”

“Not today. Brenna has gymnastics and, well, I would rather Blake not eat ice cream two days in a row. It will have to be sometime next week because our activity calendar is quite full already.”

“Fine. See you Sunday?”

“I hope so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Hopefully Jim’s concerns will not come to fruition.”

“You think I’ll be in
jail
?”

“Let’s not dwell on the negative, all right, Callie? I have got to get going on my errands.” She paused again, her voice weary, almost fearful. “You be careful out there, little sister.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I hung up the phone, fully awake now and equally aware of my new menacing ways. Much as I’d like to think otherwise, my sister, not to mention my niece and nephew, all had the right to be upset with me. If I could bend that way, I’d deliver a swift kick to my own behind.

And did I really hide out in bushes last night, hoping to catch townspeople violating the law? What if I had? It occurred to me that in a small town like ours, the story of my tactics just might trump the council’s crime.

No matter how much I’d like to hide away the memory of last night’s spy mission, that annoyingly clear black and white photo of me in the paper wouldn’t allow it. One thing I could be thankful for was that there was no mention in the article of the friendly combat I entered into with Gage.
Really missed a scoop there, Mr. Eliot Hawl.

I put a hand to my face, both eyes closed, my thoughts wandering back to Gage. He’d made me so angry, showing up like that. I had wanted to believe that despite his work with the land developer, Gage was above taking part in questionable government activities.

Niggles of doubt wormed their way through me. Gage had been quick to change course the minute he spotted me. He could have taunted me awhile before leaving, but instead he didn’t hesitate to join me in my grimy hideaway on the side of the Jamison’s house. I groaned. Maybe that was honesty talking when he said he’d rather be playing in the dirt with me than be inside that house.