Authors: Barbara Freethy
"I won't." She paused. "I don't think Chief Hayes is the only man who is smitten with you."
Her aunt blushed. "Oh, Butch and Ian are just dear friends."
"I think you can have your pick, so you should take your time, figure out what or who you really want."
"That's good advice. So tell me, what did you do today, Alexa?"
"I wasn't as productive as I should have been," she admitted. "I mostly wandered around town and the beach." She didn't want to bother her aunt with any of her crazy theories about the break-in until she knew if one of them was true. "When I leave here, I'm going to dig into those boxes at the antique shop and get everything organized for you."
"Don't work too hard. You should have some fun while you're here. Maybe get to know Braden again," her aunt added with a sly smile. "It was so fun to see the two of you together."
"Don't match make," she warned.
"Why not? You loved him once."
"When I was twelve."
"Well, you're still single. And Braden is getting divorced. It seems to me like you two are finally in the right place at the right time. I know when you came to see me after college that you were hoping to see him, too."
"We'll see what happens," she said. "Helping you is my first priority."
"That's very thoughtful of you, Alexa. I hope you won't be bored."
"Not a chance. I always liked your shop."
"You used to make up stories about the furniture," her aunt said.
"I think that was you, Aunt Phoebe," she replied, as they shared a warm smile.
"Both of us," Phoebe said. "I always had the idea that you might one day come to work with me. Or that I might leave you the shop." She gave Alexa a speculative look.
Alexa was touched by the thought. "I don't know anything about antiques."
"I could teach you." Phoebe paused. "But I know you have your own life. I just wish you were closer. We missed so many years, and now I want to make up for lost time."
"Well, we're making up some of that time now," she said, also feeling a twinge of guilt. "I'm glad you're feeling better. Have you remembered anything else about what happened the other night?"
Phoebe shook her head. "No, I wish I could. Edwin keeps asking me, and Officer Lassen came by again this morning, as well. I try to remember, but nothing comes into my mind. I feel like it's right there, but I can't see what it is."
"Well, that's okay. Don't stress out about it." Maybe it was good that her aunt couldn't remember and all her friends knew that. News would get around town, and hopefully her aunt would be less of a target.
"I can't help but wonder what the thief took. I want to get back to my shop, but the doctor says I need to stay here for a few more days. I feel so helpless."
"You can't worry about it right now. You need to concentrate on getting better. The police are investigating, and Braden and I are looking into some things, too."
"You and Braden. It has a good ring to it. I've been worried about Braden. He's been through a lot, and I think he needs support, but he's stubbornly independent. The two of you had a special friendship. Maybe you can break through his walls."
"He's not really interested in my help. As you said, he's stubborn."
"Well, you can be persistent, too. See if you can get him to open up."
"I don't know if I can -- or if I want to. I'm afraid I'll be taking the lid off Pandora's box."
Phoebe smiled. "Sometimes you have to take a risk. And you have to make time, too. Every time I ask if you have a boyfriend, you tell me that you don't have time for love. You need to make it a priority, or you'll end up alone."
"Falling in love doesn't mean I won't end up alone. Look at my mom. Now Braden. There are millions of divorces every year. I don't really know why anyone gets married."
"Because they want to commit to each other. I had a beautiful, strong marriage. I wish you could have known your uncle. Charles was an amazing man. He was strong and kind and intensely loyal."
"He sounds amazing. I haven't met many men like that."
"Braden fits the description."
"Maybe," she conceded. "But his walls aren't going to come down in a day, so let's talk about something else. Let's talk about you."
"I'm fine. I'm getting better. In fact, I'm starting to feel bored."
"Boring is good. That means you're resting."
"I'm trying. I'm not used to being in bed all day." She paused for a moment. "Have you spoken to your father yet?"
"No, not yet. I'm sorry."
"Well, he's busy."
"Yes, he's always been busy," she said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Her aunt's gaze narrowed. "He hurt you. I'm sorry about that."
"We don't need to talk about him."
"Sometimes I'd like to kick his ass, the way I used to when he was a kid. My little brother can be very selfish."
"In my opinion, he could use an ass kicking," she said.
"Do you talk to him much?"
"Hardly at all. But I will call him again. Dad should be here for you. You're his only sister, and you did so much for him."
"That's why I'm here," a man said from behind her.
Alexa was shocked to see her father walk into the room. It had been a year since she'd seen him briefly after the birth of his youngest child, and he hadn't changed much. He looked a bit older, but it was clear that he was still a perfectionist when it came to his appearance. His hair didn't show a hint of gray, and his black slacks and button-down shirt didn't boast one wrinkle. The only thing marginally different about him was a slight receding of his hairline.
He smiled at her, then brushed past her to kiss his sister on the cheek. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Phoebe. How are you feeling?"
"I'm a lot better today, Rob. My head doesn't hurt as much. I'm so glad you came. I know how busy you are with your job and the kids."
"I apologize for not getting here sooner. But I know Alexa has been taking good care of you."
"Of course she has."
"I understand you interrupted a robbery. Did you see who did this to you?" her dad asked.
"No. If I did see someone, I don't remember. I have a concussion."
"Do the police have any suspects?"
"No."
"Do you have any idea why someone would break into your shop? Did you get something valuable in?"
Alexa was surprised at her father's sharp interrogation. Wasn't it clear that Phoebe had no idea what had happened?
"My shop is filled with valuables," she said a little tartly. "I don't understand why most people don't realize that."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."
"How are the children, Rob? You haven't sent me any pictures in a while. They must be getting very big."
As Alexa listened to her father talk about her half-siblings, she felt very disconnected from him. Over the years she had loved him and hated him, and now she felt almost ambivalent, as if he were a stranger.
"Alexa?" he queried.
"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, realizing her father and aunt were both giving her an expectant look.
"Phoebe says you're helping her with the shop for a few days," her dad said.
She nodded. "Yes, there are a lot of boxes to unpack."
"I'm not leaving until tomorrow, so I can help you."
She was shocked by the offer. "Really?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Okay, I guess so," she said, stumbling a little over the words. The idea that she and her dad might spend a few hours together seemed unimaginable.
"I want to stop by the police station first," her dad continued, "But I can come by the shop after that."
"All right. I'll be there."
"Good."
Her dad smiled at her aunt. "I'll come back later tonight. Try to sleep for a while."
"I will."
He turned to Alexa. "I'll see you in a bit."
"Okay," she replied, still not quite able to believe he was going to help her do inventory at the antique shop.
"That's a first," her aunt commented when they were alone again. "I can't remember the last time Rob even went to my store, much less offered to help out. Your father has a lot of layers."
"What does that mean?"
"Just that he's not all one thing – good or bad."
"I don't really know him, Aunt Phoebe."
"It looks like you're going to get a chance to talk to him. Don't waste it."
"I won't," she said.
There were a few things she wanted to talk to her dad about. She just hoped she could find the courage to ask a question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to. As Braden had warned, that could be dangerous.
Chapter Nine
After Drew dropped him off at his apartment, Braden picked up his car and headed across town. Edwin Hayes was just pulling into his driveway when Braden parked in front of his house.
He stepped out of the car and called, "Chief Hayes."
Edwin gave him a look of surprise, then crossed the grass to join him on the sidewalk. "Braden? Is that you?"
"Yes it is."
"I heard you're helping us out," the chief said.
"If I can."
Chief Hayes nodded. "Good. From what I've heard about your military service, we're fortunate to have your help."
"Thanks. Drew thought you might be able to answer a few questions for me."
"Shoot."
"I wanted to know what you could tell me about the drowning death of Shayla Cummings," he said.
Surprise flashed in the chief's eyes. "I thought you were going to ask me about the crime scene at the antique shop and what I'd seen, but you're asking about a woman who died here a long time ago? Why?"
"There's a link between the Wellbourne delivery and the break-in. I've been researching the Wellbournes and there's one odd note in their history – the fact that one of their renters drowned under somewhat mysterious circumstance." As he stated his theory, he realized how tenuous the link was. The chief was probably going to regret approving his involvement.
"She didn't die mysteriously; she drowned," Edwin said.
"There was never a thought that it wasn't accidental?"
"Of course there was a thought, but the investigation determined there was no foul play. Her sister said that Shayla couldn't swim very well and also mentioned that she'd been depressed after her movie failed."
"So it could have been suicide?"
"There wasn't a note, but it was a possibility based on what the sister had to say and how Ms. Cummings was dressed. That's why we did a thorough investigation, which resulted in the conclusion that whether it was accidental or deliberate on Ms. Cummings' part, there were no other parties involved in her death."
"Was Shayla a friend of the Wellbournes? Did they have any comment on her death?" he asked, changing the direction of their conversation.
"She had been staying in their house prior to her death, but she was just one of many summer renters."
"Were there many?" he asked doubtfully. "Alexa and I saw her on the deck of that house a lot, but we never saw anyone else."
"I think there were a couple. It was a long time ago." The chief gave him a thoughtful look. "I had forgotten how close you and Alexa were. I remember the two of you riding your bikes up and down this street every summer."
"We did that a lot."
"I saw Alexa at the hospital a short while ago. It was good she came back for Phoebe."
"She's worried about her aunt."
"We all are. But you're on the wrong track, Braden. I know it's more imaginative to try and combine mysterious events to each other, but I doubt Shayla Cummings' death has anything to do with the current break-in. You could be wasting valuable time."
"Well, it's not like I'm overlooking any other leads. Let me ask you one more question; did Shayla have any friends in town?" he asked, unwilling to quite let it go yet.
"I recall that she had a few friends, yes."
"I was wondering if I could take a look at the case files, the people you interviewed."
"Well, that would take some effort to find," the chief said.
"I'd still be interested in looking."
"You'll have to look through the storage unit."
"That's what Drew said." He paused. "What about Rob Parker? Was he friends with Shayla?"
"Phoebe's brother?"
He nodded.
The chief's heavy brows drew together in a frown. "Well, he was married at the time."
"Married men sometimes cheat."
"I didn't know Rob well, and he wasn't on any interview list that I recall," the chief said. "What I do know is that Phoebe wouldn't like what you're implying, Braden. And I don't think Alexa would, either."
"Alexa wants to find out what happened at the antique store and to Shayla," he said.