Strangers in the Night (2 page)

He laughed. “I can assure you it's true.”

The rich baritone voice struck a chord deep inside. Her cheeks grew warm. She picked up her tea, focusing on the ice cubes and the drink's amber color. “How are they?”

“Good. They miss you and Emma. It's been hard for them with you not being able to visit them.”

The last two years had been hard for her as well. She loved her parents, but visiting them had been out of the question. Now, here was a man who knew them. Abbie had so many questions.

“What about Skye and Tim?” She hadn't seen her younger siblings since she'd moved to Iowa with Nathan. Whenever she asked, her mother would tell her the same old story. “They're a bit rebellious, Abbie, but they'll grow out of it. They're doing fine, really.” Skye and Tim lived in Portland. They were younger than she was. Not as easy to deal with, her mother would say, but times were changing.

Abbie knew better. On her last visit, right after Nate's death, Skye had opted not to come to the coast to see Abbie, insisting that she didn't want to have to listen to her goody-two-shoes sister lecture her about all the stuff she was doing wrong. Abbie wasn't like that. Well, maybe she did at times try to steer them right, but she wasn't judgmental. The barb still stung. “Did my folks say anything about them?”

“Tim is fine. He graduated from the police academy and is looking into working for the Oregon State Police. Skye is another story.”

His dour expression indicated that he didn't want to talk about Skye, but Abbie pressed him. “What's wrong?”

He fingered the napkin under his drink. “Skye is staying with your folks for the time being. She recently left a rehab facility. Before that, she spent some time on the streets. There's no easy way to say this, Abbie. You can't sugarcoat it. She's sick. She's a drug addict and an alcoholic and she's killing herself.”

Abbie sucked in a sharp breath. “I—I didn't know.” She should have been home, helping her mother, taking care of her little sister. “Mom never told me.”

“They said I was supposed to break it to you gently.” He frowned. “I didn't do so well on that part of my mission, did I?”

“Bad news is always hard to deliver. Thank you for giving it to me straight.” She wanted more details, but Jake seemed reluctant.

“I'll tell you more about Skye later,” he said, “but she's not the reason I'm here. Your parents sent me here to talk with you. I have a proposition.”

“A proposition?” Abbie struggled to transition from Skye to Jake's odd comment.

He bent to pick up his briefcase, and set it on the table. “It's complicated.”

“Wait.” She held a hand out to stop him. “Do you mind if we discuss it over lunch? Unless you've already eaten.”

“I haven't. And I'm starving.” He stood and waited while she did the same. “Lead the way.”

Abbie left the remainder of her tea on the table. Jake took a moment to drain his before setting his glass beside hers.

They'd walked a block toward Patsy's Bakery and Café before Abbie spoke. “I should have asked this sooner, but how do you know my parents?”

“As I said, I'm a real estate agent. I sold them their home in Oceanside. I also do some investing and property development.”

That made sense. Her parents had bought the house shortly before Nate's death. She vaguely remembered them talking about their Realtor. Rather than downsize to a smaller home, they'd gone larger. Mom wanted a house big enough to accommodate the entire family, as well as their hobbies, and a soundproof room to practice their music. Had they mentioned Jake's name?

She wasn't certain. A measure of relief came. Perhaps he really was on the level. She let herself relax a bit more.

“This looks like a great restaurant.” Jake nodded toward the glassed-in displays of fresh-baked breads, pastries, and desserts.

“My favorite for breakfast and lunch. The owners have a farm just north of here and they use fresh produce. Everything is delicious.”

They walked across the black-and-white checkered linoleum and slid into a shiny red vinyl booth by the window. The light-flashing jukebox on the back wall played Ricky Nelson's “Be Bop Baby.”

“Hi, Annie.” Sherrie, the waitress, was the owner's teenage daughter. Grinning, she sashayed over in her tight blue capris and matching blouse and hat. She plopped menus down in front of them. Her gaze moved to Jake. “Who's your friend?”

“Jake Conners.”

“Hi, Jake.” Admiration oozed out of every pore. Sherrie hesitated a moment then lifted the carafe. “Coffee?”

“No thanks,” Abbie said. “I'd like some water though.”

“Sure.” Jake moved his cup closer. Sherrie filled the cup and seemed as taken by his blue eyes as Abbie had been.

They looked over the menu, and when Sherrie returned, Abbie ordered the beef stew special. Jake opted for the soup and a roast beef sandwich on rye.

“Coming right up.” Sherrie grinned.

Jake nodded toward the waitress. “She called you Annie.”

“Annie Davis. I had to change it after…”

“It's a dangerous choice,” Jake said. “It's too close to your real name.”

“I suppose it is. But it's worked so far.” Dangerous choice? Abbie wondered how much her parents had told him.

For several minutes they sat in strained silence, listening to Theresa Brewer belt out “Sweet Old-Fashioned Girl.” 'Round about the middle of “Hang Down Your Head, Tom Dooley,” and comforted by familiar surroundings and wonderful smells, Abbie began to relax again. Sherrie brought their meals, and Abbie was surprised when Jake asked a blessing.

“This looks good. I'm glad you suggested coming here.” He picked up a sandwich half and took a bite.

She lifted her spoon and stirred her stew. “What are my parents up to and how, or should I ask why, did they persuade you to come all the way out here to talk to me?”

Jake swallowed and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “They want me to make you an offer you can't refuse.”

“Ah, the proposition.” She read the skepticism in his eyes and voice. “But you're not so sure.”

“Personally, I think it's a great idea.” He hesitated. “I won't lie to you, Abbie. There's a lot of money in this for me. The deal hinges on you being willing to make it happen. Your dad knew he wouldn't be able to persuade you on the phone or in a letter, so he sent me.” He grinned and winked. “And I never was one to turn down an offer to meet a pretty girl.”

Although heat rose in her cheeks, Abbie discarded the last statement and the wink that went with it. She ducked her head and pretended interest in her stew. She wanted to hear more, yet she didn't. She had a feeling that he was going to ask her to go back to Oregon. Something she couldn't do—at least not if she wanted to keep her daughter and stay out of prison.

Jake went back to eating his sandwich while Abbie finished her stew. Once it was gone, she felt ready to move ahead. She could at least hear him out.

“I'm assuming this offer involves buying property or opening a business of some sort.”

Jake sipped his coffee. “A business, yes, but it's more than that. The property they want to buy is actually an entire town in the Coastal Mountain Range, only about twenty minutes southeast of Oceanside. The depression cut hard into the economy there a few years back and the owner needs to sell.”

“An entire town?”

“Look, Abbie.” He moved his plate forward and placed his arms on the table, leaning toward her. “Your parents told me what you've been going through.”

Abbie stiffened, aghast that they would break her confidence. And to a real estate agent. What were they thinking? Jake could easily have gone to the police. Maybe he had.

As if reading the alarm in her eyes, he said, “Relax. Your secret is safe with me. I guess they figured I should know the score if I'm going to help you.”

“Help me?” Abbie tossed her napkin on her plate and took a drink of water.
Oh, Mom and Pops, what have you done?
“They told you everything?”

“Enough.” He glanced around. “Maybe this isn't the best place to talk. Can we go somewhere more private?”

“Of course.” The lunch crowd had descended on the popular café, and Abbie had begun to feel claustrophobic. Besides that, someone apparently liked Little Richard a lot more than she did, and the keep-a-knockin' screeches were giving her a headache.

When they rose, Jake tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table. More than enough to cover both meals. Sherrie would be thrilled.

She led Jake back to the art fair and to the riverfront park nearby where they could talk without being overheard. She crumpled onto the lone bench. For almost two years she'd been a fugitive—had been so careful not to allow anyone access to her life. And now her parents had betrayed her. Not only had they told Jake Conners where she lived, but also that she'd kidnapped her daughter.

She clasped the front of the bench on either side of her and leaned forward, feeling as though she might lose the stew she'd just eaten.

“What did they tell you?” She felt raw and exposed as old wounds began to rupture.

“Abbie.” He reached for her hand.

She pulled away, but his touch, however brief, loosened floodgates inside her. Tears escaped their confines and slid down her face. She pulled a tissue from her bag and wiped them away.

Jake stretched his arm out on the back of the bench, brushing his hand against her shoulder. “I can't imagine what you've been through. Losing your husband was bad enough, but losing your baby and then having Emma taken from you. No one could possibly blame you for what you did.”

She blew her nose. “I broke the law when I took Emma.”

“And you've been looking over your shoulder ever since.” The compassion she saw in his face seemed to wrap itself around her.

She nodded. “I should have stayed and gone to court, but I was terrified of losing Emma permanently.”

“The court isn't that quick to take children away from their parents.” He said it with such conviction, she almost believed him.

“You don't know Leah.”

“Your mother-in-law.”

Abbie nodded, wondering how well her parents knew this man. They must trust him implicitly to reveal so much. Her parents were open and friendly, but they'd ferociously guarded her secret— until now.

“From what your parents told me, she's quite a bulldozer.”

Abbie frowned. “It isn't like that. Leah was only trying to do what she thought would be best for Emma. The truth is, I was not being a good mother. After Nate died, I fell apart. I let Leah take care of Emma and then when I lost the baby, I was too tired and depressed to do anything.”

“You were grieving. That's not being a bad mother.”

“Yes, but in Leah's eyes, I had failed. I shouldn't have been surprised. She never did like me much. I wasn't good enough for Nate and I made a lousy farmer's wife.” Abbie straightened, drawing herself together. “I made a lot of mistakes. I never imagined that Leah might see my actions or inactions as neglect. I thought she was being kind when she took care of Emma for me. I never expected her to accuse me of being an unfit mother. Leah got custody by going to a judge who was also her friend.”

Abbie hauled in a deep breath. “Anyway, I took Emma and ran away from it all. I have a friend here, and she's helped me piece together a new life. I still don't know how you managed to find me. Not even my parents have an address other than the post office.”

“They gave me a picture.” His lips curled in a half smile. “Truth is, I didn't know how I was going to find you. There are thirty-five thousand people here, but I was prepared to talk to every one of them if need be. The amazing thing is that I decided to eat at the supper club last night and there you were.”

“So much for being anonymous.” That Jake had found her rattled her sense of security to the core. Yet, on another level, Abbie felt a sense of relief.

“Abbie. I'm not a threat.” He caught her gaze and held it.

Taken aback by the intensity and sincerity of those blue eyes, Abbie looked away. “I hope not.”

“I want to help you.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“First, we need to get you back to Oregon.”

“That's not going to happen. I can't—”

“Hear me out.” Jake leaned down to open his briefcase. “There's a place called Cold Creek for sale on the Oregon coast.”

She shook her head. “You mentioned before it was a town, but I don't understand.”

“Cold Creek is an old lumber town that fell on hard times. They were doing great until the stock market fell in '29 The owner died shortly after that and the widow has been selling off bits and pieces of property ever since to people who had previously rented and wanted to stay.”

“How awful for her.” Abbie glanced down at the aerial photo Jake handed her. The circled area included a mountain, a lake, forests, a creek, and a small town with a main street and about twenty houses, along with a number of small cabins. She handed the photo back. “That's a lot of property.”

“Isabelle Johansson has weathered the storms pretty well.” He smiled. “She's considered the town's matriarch. She's decided to sell off the entire town except for her home and some acreage around it. Isabelle is luckier than a lot of folks. At least she owns the property free and clear and it's close enough to the coast to make it appealing. And real estate prices are projected to climb—especially in resort areas. Bear Lake borders the town and is one of the most beautiful places around. Unfortunately, a lot of people have had to move to the cities in order to find jobs. That's left a number of buildings vacant, especially in the downtown area, so it's a bit run-down. It'll need a lot of work.”

Abbie sighed. “I don't see what this has to do with me. Are you saying my parents want to buy this town?”

“Actually, they want to buy it with you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It's complicated. Your parents want to turn the place into an artist colony, and they want you to run it. They said, and I quote, ‘Tell Abbie it's time to stop hiding and come home. This is what she's always wanted.'”

Excitement stirred in her chest. Her parents knew her well. Ever since she'd visited the Artists' Way in Rhode Island during college, she'd dreamed of being a part of a place like that. “I can't.” She sighed. “I'm wanted for kidnapping. I can't afford to go back, no matter how wonderful it sounds.”

“I really don't think you need to worry about this so-called kidnapping. I have a good friend who's a lawyer.”

“You talked to a lawyer about me?”

He raised his hands. “Not you. Not specifically. I asked him about custody cases in general. From what he told me, I have no doubt you can fight it and win.” He lowered his hands and cast her an apologetic look. “Besides, your parents have already put earnest money on it.”

She ran her hands through her hair. “Why do I feel like I'm being manipulated?”

“Because you are.” He grinned, easing the insanity of it all. “They are really into this artists' retreat. They understand that they can't force you.” He chuckled then. “Actually, your dad suggested that if you wouldn't accept the offer, I should kidnap you and Emma and bring you back.”

Impossible. You can't take the chance, Abbie. You know that
.

“I'll do it.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Abbie couldn't believe what she'd said. Going back meant facing charges of kidnapping and possibly losing Emma for good.

Still, on some level, Abbie knew she couldn't go on running forever. Her parents were right. The offer was too good to refuse. It was time to go home, not so much for the artist colony, though that did appeal to her. She had to see Skye and reconnect with her family. And for Emma's sake, she needed to stop running.