In Shelter Cove (17 page)

“Do you want a beer?” Jason asked. “Or are you only a wine drinker?”

“Beer is fine.” Although she probably could have used something a little stiffer. Having Steve Markham wandering around her property made her uneasy. The Markhams and Wyatt were the closest to Derek, the closest to the paintings, yet they had
all made themselves quite unavailable during the investigation, the trial, and the past five years.

“How was the quilt shop today?” Jason asked as they settled around the table.

“Busy. I sat in on a group quilting project during lunch.”

“With Kara, right?”

“Yes, and Charlotte Adams was there, too. They’re a lot of fun.” She paused. “Kara is very protective of you.”

“She’s protective of all her friends.”

“I think you’re in a special category.”

Jason nodded. “We’ve known each other since the third grade.”

“Did you ever like her as more than a friend?”

“Aren’t
you
curious all of a sudden.”

“And aren’t
you
evasive all of a sudden,” she replied.

He tipped his head with a conceding smile. “I might have had a little crush on her back in the day, but she only had eyes for Colin. He was her first, last, and always, and she was the same for him. The two of them would die for each other. And I’d die for them.”

She believed him but she couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t felt such loyalty to Derek. “I don’t have any friendships that go that deep or that far back. It must be nice.”

“Those kinds of friendships are fairly common in Angel’s Bay. People grow up here and stay, or they
leave for a while and come back to raise their own kids.”

“You never wanted to be a cop anywhere else?”

“I like it here. That’s probably hard for someone who’s lived all over the world to understand.”

“It wasn’t my choice to move as often as we did or to travel far and wide.”

“You don’t think you would have lived that same jet-setting life with Derek?” he questioned.

She cast a quick look at Lucas, who was stuffing pizza into his mouth and kicking a ball to Digger under the table. He wasn’t paying any attention to them, but still . . . “Maybe,” she said. “But I can see the charm of a small community. The women at the quilt shop have been very nice to me. The only bad run-in I had was yesterday, when Mrs. Hanlon came in.”

He frowned. “What did she say to you?”

“The same old accusations. In her mind, Derek and I are the same person.”

“I’d avoid her and her husband whenever possible, and her son, too. He’s a loose cannon.”

“I forgot they had a son,” she said. “He’s our age, right?”

“A couple of years older,” Jason replied.

“Jason, look,” Lucas interrupted, a long strand of cheese hanging from his mouth to his plate.

“Lucas,” Brianna scolded. “Food is not to play with.”

“Your mom’s right,” Jason said, adding his support.

Lucas quickly shoved the cheese into his mouth.
He might have argued with her but not with Jason.

As they ate, conversation turned to the upcoming Harvest Festival, Jason giving her a rundown on all the events. The atmosphere was easy, relaxed, almost surreal, Brianna thought. After their encounter the night before, she’d dreaded seeing him again, but here they were, seated around the table like a family. She’d never imagined that one day she’d be sharing a meal with Jason and not be unhappy about it.

“So I was thinking,” Jason began, as Lucas took his empty plate to the counter and then headed out of the kitchen. “You should take me up on my offer to teach you how to surf.”

“I don’t think so,” she said quickly. “I’m not a fan of cold water.”

“I have a wetsuit that will fit you.”

“I told you I’m not a great swimmer.”

“But you’ve been in the ocean before. You can swim,” he said.

“In warm oceans like in Hawaii, where it’s more like a soothing bath than a battle against nature.”

“Battling nature can give you a tremendous sense of power, especially when you win. It’s a great feeling.”

“I don’t know,” she said, weakening against his eager persistence. She’d been wanting to step outside her usual life, but surfing? And with Jason? She shouldn’t even be considering it.

“It will be fun. We could go tomorrow morning,” he said. “The Kanes seem eager to watch Lucas whenever you need them to.”

“I don’t like to take advantage of them,” she said, though the Kanes would be thrilled if she called up and said she’d be dropping Lucas off in the morning. “I’m sure they wouldn’t be happy to hear we were doing anything together.”

“This isn’t about them,” he said quietly.

“It
is
about them,” she corrected. “They’re important to me. I couldn’t have survived without their support the past five years. Nancy was in the delivery room when Lucas was born; she coached me through the contractions. Every time they’d come to visit, Rick would fix things around the house, Nancy would cook meals, and they’d shower Lucas and me with love. I celebrated every birthday, every holiday with them. In some ways—” She stopped, realizing how much she was revealing.

“What?” he prodded.

“In some ways, I felt more married to them than to Derek,” she confessed, feeling a little guilty at the thought. “I would never do anything that would hurt them.”

“I wouldn’t want to see the Kanes hurt, either. They were my second family growing up. When my father was on one of his depressed benders, they fed me meals and let me sleep over. I thought they were the perfect parents and that Derek was the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Is that where your rivalry started—because Derek had what you didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No, our rivalry started because we were both highly competitive people,
Derek even more so than me. Maybe it was because his grandfather was so hard on him when it came to his art—perhaps that’s why he needed to prove himself in every other area. He always had to win. He had to be the best and have the best.”

“The boy you knew sounds different from the man I married,” she said with a shake of her head. “Derek had big dreams and ambitions, but I never saw an obsessive drive for material things or any desire to break the law, and I certainly never saw any hint of violence. Even if I could believe that Derek stole those paintings, I could never believe he attacked the security guard. But it’s pointless for us to discuss it—we’ll never agree.”

“Maybe because we each had a different relationship with Derek.”

“And you had one that lasted a lot longer,” she said. “I know. I get it. Everyone here thinks they knew Derek better than I did.” She drew in a breath, then let it out. “Maybe I didn’t see him for who he was.” Derek had told her as much in the letter he’d left for her. “But it’s not even about Derek anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were talking about meeting me in the bar all those years ago, I felt like you were talking about a different girl. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself. Some days I barely recognize my face in the mirror. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“Then you should find out who you are. For instance, maybe you’re a woman who likes to surf, and you just haven’t figured that out yet.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Nice segue.”

“Just think about it. New experiences can be fun.”

“Or they can be horrible.”

“It just depends on if you see the glass half full or half empty,” he said.

“It hasn’t been half full in a long time. I used to be a lot more optimistic. I guess that’s part of growing up.”

“I don’t know about that. My father is one of the most optimistic people I know, and he’s in his sixties.”

“Speaking of which, has he married Patty yet?”

“Who knows? It’s been very quiet.”

“A bad sign,” she said with a smile.

“Tell me about it.”

Lucas returned to the table with a picture he’d drawn. “I made this for you,” he told Jason, climbing onto his lap. “It’s a picture of you and me and Mommy flying the kite. And there’s Digger, too.”

The puppy lifted his head and gave a bark.

Jason laughed. “It’s great. I love it. Thank you. You’re really talented.”

“Like my daddy,” Lucas said. “Grandma Nancy says Daddy was the best artist in the world.”

“He was very good,” Jason said. “Can I keep this?”

“Are you going to put it on your refrigerator?”

Before Jason could reply, the front door opened, followed by Nancy’s cheerful voice. Brianna’s heart filled with dismay.

“Brianna, I know you said you didn’t need any
food tonight, but I thought you might have changed your—” Nancy stopped abruptly as she entered the kitchen, her shocked eyes taking in the cozy scene. “What—what’s going on here?”

“Jason brought us pizza,” Lucas replied, while Brianna was searching for an answer. “And I made him a picture. He’s going to put it on his refrigerator.”

“No. No.” Nancy put up her hand, shaking her head in denial. “This isn’t possible. This can’t be happening.” She whirled around and ran from the room.

Brianna quickly followed her into the living room. “Nancy, wait.”

Her mother-in-law looked at her with the shock of betrayal etched in every line of her face. “How could you, Brianna? How could you invite him over here?”

“I didn’t invite him. He’s house-sitting next door. He pulled up with a pizza, and Lucas invited him in.” She could see that her words weren’t even getting through. “I’m sorry, Nancy. But there’s really nothing to be upset about.”

“He hurt Derek. He hurt you. He destroyed our lives. How could you forget that?”

“I haven’t forgotten, but—”

“There’s no but.” Nancy cut her off with an emphatic shake of her head. “You can’t be friends with him. Not now. Not ever.” She walked out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

Oh, God.
Hurting Nancy was the last thing she’d
wanted to do. She took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen. Lucas was alone, playing on the floor with Digger.

“Jason said he had to go home,” he told her.

Though Brianna was relieved that she didn’t have to send him away, the damage had already been done. She just hoped she could find a way to fix it.

Charlotte parked her car in front of Joe’s house just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. She’d deliberately avoided any situation that would put them in a room alone together, but she had promised to drop off a recipe for chili, and by the time she’d finished with her patients for the day, Joe had already left the station. Since the cook-off was tomorrow, it was now or never.

Joe lived in a one-story house on the ocean side of the street and had a great view from his backyard. The last time she’d been in his house had been purely by chance. She’d been riding her bike and hadn’t realized she’d ended up on his street until he pulled into the driveway. He’d invited her in for a drink, and she’d foolishly accepted. She hadn’t had more than a sip when his wife, Rachel, had arrived, looking at them as if she’d just caught them in the middle of an affair.

That had been months ago. Joe hadn’t invited her
back since, and she’d skipped this particular hill on her bike rides.

Despite her misgivings, she walked up to the house and rang the bell. Rufus, Joe’s golden retriever, started barking. There was no sign of Joe, but his car was in the driveway. Hearing activity in the backyard, she moved down the side of the house, stepped through the back gate, and stopped abruptly at the sight of Joe, bare-chested, swinging an axe at a log next to a huge pile of wood. His tan skin glistened with sweat; his muscles rippled with each powerful swing. She’d thought he was attractive in his uniform, even hotter in his jeans. But with no shirt and tight, faded jeans, wow . . . Her breath stalled in her chest, and she was torn between a reckless desire to stay and a smarter desire to flee.

Rufus made the choice for her. He ran over and jumped up, his paws landing on her shoulders as he licked her face with happy kisses.

Distracted by the dog, Joe turned around, and the expression on his face wasn’t at all welcoming. The raw bleakness in his eyes made a shiver run down her spine. She’d never seen him without his polite veneer.

“I—I just came to drop off the chili recipe,” she said, feeling oddly nervous.

Joe dropped the axe and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he said finally.

She was almost sorry to see the control come back, but it was probably a good thing. She was a
little too fascinated with the glimpse she’d had into a darker part of his soul.

Rufus barked and nuzzled her hand, demanding more attention.

“Rufus, sit,” Joe ordered.

“It’s fine. He’s fine.” She felt a little foolish with her inability to find a bigger vocabulary.

“Why don’t you come in?” He strode toward the deck without waiting for her answer.

“All right,” she muttered to herself. She climbed the stairs and walked through the sliding glass doors into the living room. Rufus ran ahead to the kitchen, while she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. As she waited for Joe to return from wherever he’d gone, she glanced around.

The brown leather couch and armchair looked supremely comfortable for watching the flat-screen television over the fireplace. There was only one painting on the wall, a large seascape that matched the view outside the room. And that was about it. The simple furnishings suited Joe, but she couldn’t help wondering if they suited Rachel. From what little Charlotte knew about his wife, she would have guessed her tastes ran more to sophisticated, modern design.

Joe came out of the bedroom, a button-down shirt now covering his chest. She was a little disappointed but also relieved. “Do you want some water?” he asked as he headed toward the kitchen.

“Uh, sure,” she replied, following him to the doorway.

He grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator and tossed one to her. Then he unscrewed the top of his and took a long drink. He must have stopped in the bathroom to wash his face, because the beads of sweat had disappeared, but his cheeks still glowed from his recent exertion. “So let’s see the recipe.”