Strangers in the Night (10 page)

The more Abbie thought about Jake's suggestion, the more sense it made. If she bought Cold Creek, then living out here prior to making the final decision would be a logical solution. Still, there was the matter of Barbara's murder and her body turning up in the lake. Had it been connected with the bank robbery or something else entirely? How did it affect Cold Creek and the possibilities it offered?

Abbie mentally stepped away from the murder. She needed to see the property and its possibilities as an entirely separate entity. Yes, Barbara's death was tragic, but it shouldn't factor into her plans to build an artist community there. Unfortunately, her attempt to separate the two proved impossible. Still, she managed to spend two hours of the afternoon looking at the town and counting the costs of the purchase and the remodeling that would have to be done.

That evening after dinner, Abbie announced her plans to stay in Cold Creek for a few days.

“Good idea.” Pops forked the last piece of his apple pie. “Give you a chance to get to know the place inside and out.”

“I agree.” This from her mother.

“Really?” Abbie had expected an objection.

“Don't misunderstand. I would love for you to stay here with us, but you do need to spend some time there. You're the artist, after all. Your father and I love the place, but you're the one who'll have to live there and run it. You'll need to decide if it's feasible or not. And after what happened at Bear Lake, I would understand if you gave up on the whole thing.” She shuddered.

“Can I come too, Mommy?”

Abbie and her mother exchanged glances. It was one thing for Abbie to explore this unknown territory on her own, but quite another to bring Emma. “Not right away. I'll need to find a place to stay and have a look around. Maybe in a couple of days.”

Tears filled her daughter's eyes. “But I need to be with you.”

“Oh, honey.” Abbie leaned over and gathered Emma into her arms. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Emma had had too many changes in the last few days. It wasn't fair to leave her.

“Emma—did you forget about our shopping day?” Carlene rose from her chair and came to kneel between them. “Let's let Mommy do her work and we'll go play. And then, when Mommy's done working, we can go see her.”

“Can we play on the merry-go-round?”

Carlene clapped her hands. “Yes! We can ride on the carousel! And go swimming!”

Emma's sadness evaporated. “Can we go now?”

Carlene laughed. “It's too late to go tonight, but in the morning. We'll go as soon as they open.”

“Okay. Let's go to bed now.”

Abbie felt a little jealousy coming on and wanted to join them. The adventure sounded like fun. The Oceanside Amusement Park offered rides, roller skating, swimming, and all sorts of things that would take her mind away from Barbara and the murder. Maybe she would join them. After all, no one would blame her for backing away from the purchase.

Abbie spent Sunday with her family and Jake in church and then picnicking at the beach. They had all needed the respite, and after hiking on one of the coastal trails, she realized that she loved the area more than ever. Even with everything going on, she managed to enjoy herself. Of course Jake had a lot to do with that.

By Monday morning, Abbie had reverted to her original plan to drive out to Cold Creek. She pulled her thick chenille robe over her flannel pajamas and padded downstairs.

She found Pops in the kitchen running water into the coffeepot. He assembled it, spooned coffee into the basket, and set it on the stove. When the coffee bubbled up rich and brown in the glass lid, Pops poured while Abbie set cinnamon toast on the table along with a couple of plates. They began talking about Cold Creek, and Abbie jotted down ideas for the artist community.

Several minutes later, they heard a sharp knock at the door. Father and daughter simultaneously pushed back their chairs. “I'll get it,” Abbie offered.

“Expecting anyone?” Pops asked.

Abbie shook her head and opened the door then stepped back in surprise.

“Hey.” Jake stood on the porch, grinning and looking much better than anyone had a right to at six-thirty in the morning. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“For our walk on the beach.”

“What are you talking about?” Abbie struggled to recall him saying anything about a beach walk but couldn't. “You never—”

He chuckled. “I sent you a telepathic message. You didn't get it?”

Abbie smiled and motioned him in. “Sorry, Jake. My brain doesn't pick up telepathic messages until after I've had my coffee.”

By the time Jake had come in and settled into a chair, Pops had poured him a cup and set it on the table.

“Thanks.” Looking over at Abbie, he asked, “So what do you think? Are you up to a walk on the beach?”

“I'd like that.” Abbie took a final sip of her lukewarm coffee. “While you finish, I'll go get ready.”

Pops laughed at something Jake said as she headed for the stairs. Abbie supposed she should have said no to the walk. She had a to-do list a mile long. But a walk on the beach sounded perfect, and a walk with Jake filled her with an anticipation she couldn't explain.

By one that afternoon, Abbie was packed and ready for a stay at the B&B. At Jake and Pops' insistence, she'd called for reservations. Dawn, the woman who ran it, sounded delighted to have her there and was anxious to meet her. She'd met Abbie's parents already and wanted to hear more about her plans for Cold Creek.

Earlier, around ten, she'd shared a tearless good-bye with her mother, Emma, and Skye, who had gone seeking adventure in Oceanside.

She planned to have her father drive her to Cold Creek, but he stopped her on the way out to the car.

“Decided it would be best if you drove yourself.”

“But you'll need your Jeep.”

“I wasn't planning on giving you the Jeep.” Gesturing with his arm, he grinned. “Come on over to the garage. Got a surprise for you.” He swung open the double garage doors, revealing a vehicle covered with canvas. Pops pulled off the cover and Abbie's jaw dropped. It was her old '52 Mercury—the one Pops had bought for her when she went off to college. When she married Nate, she'd insisted Pops take it back and maybe give it to Tim or sell it. Tears clouded her vision. “I don't understand. Why would you keep this old thing?”

He shrugged. “Figured you'd come back one day.”

Abbie hugged him. “I can't believe this.”

He dug in his pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and tucked them into her hand. “She still runs good. I gassed her up before you came.”

Abbie shook her head. “I thought Tim would have it, or Skye.”

Pops sighed. “They didn't meet the criteria. Grades weren't up and…well, you know the drill. 'Course, Tim's doing good, but you're here now.”

Abbie nodded. “I'm sorry I wasn't here for them, Pops, especially Skye.”

“Don't even think about blaming yourself. Your mother and I have done more than enough of taking on the blame. Does no good at all.” He picked up Abbie's suitcase and set it behind the car. “We weren't the best parents, but not the worst either.” Taking the keys from her, he opened the trunk.

“You were wonderful.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can't imagine having a better childhood.”

He smiled. “You were an easy kid to raise. And, maybe retiring from the music scene changed us. We went through a tough transition for a while there. Seemed like some of the fun went out of our lives—mine at least. Your mother loved being a homebody. I was a bit lost.”

“Oh, Pops.” Abbie understood being lost. Giving up her art had nearly destroyed her.

“We thought settling down and giving you kids more stability would be a good thing. We finally realized we couldn't give up the music altogether, but by then, Skye had gone.”

“Like you said, they made their own choices. Besides, Tim is okay. And Skye is here and safe.”

He pressed his lips together. “We'll see.”

He was right of course. They had no guarantee that Skye would stay clean. Abbie promised herself that she would do her best to keep her sister out of trouble.

He handed back the keys. “Call me when you get there so I know not to worry.”

She chuckled and kissed his cheek. “I will. And thank you.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched as she maneuvered the unfamiliar vehicle down the driveway and onto the road.

A short while later, Abbie turned off the main highway onto a narrow two-lane road that led to the old logging town. Leaves made brilliant green by patches of sun quivered in the wind. She swallowed back her fears as images of Saturday morning forced themselves into her mind.

She pushed the disturbing thoughts aside and instead tried to concentrate on how the area might look to a tourist coming to the artist colony and the monthly art fair. Not an easy task when Barbara had been killed and her body found not more than a mile away.

Don't think about it. Yes, Barbara's death is disturbing—tragic, but there's nothing you can do about that
. And her death had nothing to do with this town. Or did it? The town was a piece of real estate, and Barbara had been a Realtor. Jake had mentioned that she'd even had a client.

Earlier, on their walk, Jake had told her about a client of Barbara's who was irate about the property being sold out from under him. He insisted that he'd made an offer on it before Pops had. Jake had paperwork to disprove him. What if this client had taken his revenge on Barbara?

She shook her head in an effort to dispel the idea and focused on the carved wooden sign she and Pops had seen the day before. She wondered if Travis had carved it and made a mental note to ask him. The sign, worn by wind, rain, and heat, needed a good cleaning. The vine maple and wild rhododendrons would have to be trimmed. Potholes fixed.

In another few minutes, she reached what looked like the main street and felt the same letdown she'd experienced before. The town, if you could call it that, looked more rustic and beaten down than the Victorian. Main Street was about a block long and had a library, a post office and small store, and a gas station. Across the street stood a small café and used book store. An O
UT OF
B
USINESS
sign hung in the window, but books still sat on the wall of shelves, and several lay in a fan as a window display. The hours on the post-office/store told her it would only be open from noon to two, Monday through Friday. According to Jake, lack of funding had forced the community to close the school and bus their kids into Oceanside. Off the main road stood older homes in varying stages of disrepair. Abbie forced herself to look beyond the destruction and neglect and to see it all restored, filled with artists and students, and, eventually, tourists who came for shopping, retreats, and a good time.

Cold Creek Bed & Breakfast was located at the end of the street. Jake had been concerned that news of Barbara's death would bring reporters and that they might take up all the rooms. The B&B offered the only overnight option. Fortunately, that was not the case. Dawn had thanked her for calling but told her things were as slow as usual. The lack of cars in the small gravel parking lot attested to the fact.