Strangers in the Night (7 page)

A few minutes later, Jake returned to his office to take care of the work that had piled up in his absence. He'd asked Sandy to show a couple of properties and spent the rest of the afternoon returning phone calls and making appointments.

By eight that evening, he'd pretty much caught up. He'd shown three houses to three of Barbara's clients and taken earnest money on two of them—all in all a productive day. Two things remained outstanding, though. Barbara was still gone, and he missed Abbie and Emma.

It was dark when he left the office. He really needed to go home, unpack, shower, and get some sleep. Trouble was, when he entered the gates of the Pacific View Estates, his car seemed determined to pass by his place and go straight to the Grants' home a quarter mile away.

Jake might have been able to resist if they lived anywhere but in the housing development where he'd built his own house. He drove past their home, debating whether or not he should stop. It wasn't exactly late, but he hadn't called. Jake stopped at the lookout, where the earth dropped out of sight on the other side of the guardrail. Pacific View was one of his favorite developments. He had bought the property, along with a number of other properties in the area, after his parents died and left him and his sister a sizeable estate. So far, real estate had been the best investment he could have made. He and Brent had gotten together right out of college. They built the house Jake now owned on spec, to be used as a model home, then Jake began selling lots and Brent built the houses.

They made a great team and had earned a lot of money. The development was different from the places where homes were pressed together as close as building codes allowed. Brent and Jake preferred parceling out one- and two-acre lots. The lookout cut into the coastline, creating a perfect place for a park for residents to enjoy. The view itself had settled the deal for most of the people who bought there. He'd sold forty places, and they had ten more lots to go.

Jake turned around and went back to the Grant home, this time pulling into the driveway. He turned off the engine and was just getting out when he noticed the red glow of a cigarette and two silhouettes on the porch swing.

“Jake!” Abbie's voice drew him forward. Maybe he was imagining it, but she sounded happy to see him. “Come join us. I was just telling Skye about our trip.”

He greeted them as he took the steps two at a time.

“What brings you out here?” Abbie asked. “Did we leave something in your car?”

“No, truth is, I missed you and Emma.”

“Abbie was missing you too.” Skye's raspy voice gave way to a cough. She leaned forward to snuff the cigarette out in the ashtray.

Jake turned to look at Abbie and smiled. “Were you really?”

“Maybe just a little.” Abbie returned the smile. The soft light from the street lamp illuminated her face as she tipped her head back to meet his eyes.

“I'm going inside,” Skye announced. “Why don't you sit here on the swing with Abs.”

“Abs?” When she vacated the swing, Jake followed Skye's advice. He wasn't about to argue.

Abbie laughed as the door closed. “Skye has always called me that.”

“It's kind of cute.”

“Better than Abigail.”

Jake relaxed against the cushion, his arm stretched across the back, almost touching Abbie's shoulders.

“Any word on Barbara?”

“Quite a lot, actually.” Jake told her what he'd learned from Jeff.

“So basically, no one knows what really happened to her.” Abbie took his hand. “I'm sorry you're having to go through this.”

“You know, Abbie, the strangest thing is, I thought I knew Barbara. It's unnerving to find out I hardly knew her at all.”

Abbie nodded. “I know the feeling. I'm finding that out with Skye, and she's my sister.” She pulled her hand back and knuckled away a tear. “I've been out of her life for six years.” Her voice rose and cracked. “During the most important times of her life, I wasn't there for her.”

“It happens.”

“It wouldn't be so bad if she hadn't made so many bad choices. If I'd known what she was going through, maybe I could have stopped her.”

Jack swallowed back a lump building in his own throat. He didn't know how to respond. “Unfortunately, we can never go back.”

“I know. If-onlys are as bad as what-ifs.”

Somehow he had moved closer to her—or had she been the one to move? His arm easily slipped around her shoulder and he lifted his left to complete the embrace. They had traveled together for five days and four nights, but he'd never come this close. Jake wanted to kiss her and sensed she wanted it too.

Jake's arms tightened around her and Abbie melted against him. He was warm and masculine, gentle and understanding. She wanted to stay in his arms. She wanted him to kiss her. All she had to do was tip her face toward his and turn ever so slightly, and his lips would cover hers. But as her desire grew, so did caution. Abbie pulled back. She shivered, not so much from the cold as from what she'd almost done.

She couldn't allow herself to be attracted to Jake, or any man for that matter. She was a woman with a child, not a teenager with a crush. She needed to keep her wits about her. Her past indiscretions were about to catch up with her. She had a criminal record, and tomorrow she'd see the attorney and turn herself in.

Jake moved back, disappointment clear in those incredible blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she lied. “I should go in. Did you want coffee or anything?”

“No. I need to get home. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Me too.” Abbie allowed herself to relax now that they were back to a safer place. “Can you believe Pops is taking me fishing? He wants to show me the property from Bear Lake.” She chuckled. “I tend to be an early riser, but four-thirty? I can't believe I agreed to go with him.”

“I'm glad you did.” Jake smiled. “He asked me to go too, so I guess I'll see you out there.” He paused. “Knowing you're joining us will make the outing much more appealing.”

Abbie felt the same way but didn't say so.

When she stood, Jake got to his feet too. He was about a foot taller than she was—of course she'd noticed that on the night they had danced. Being so close to him unnerved her. If he took her in his arms, her head would fit perfectly just under his chin. He'd have to bend slightly to kiss her. And he did.

His kiss was as sweet and gentle as she had imagined. Abbie wanted more, but she couldn't let it go on. She pressed her hands against his chest and it almost hurt when he stepped away.

“Abbie, I'm sorry.” Jake seemed as surprised as she was.

“Don't be.” She pressed her lips together. “It's as much my fault as yours. I like you, Jake, but we can't afford to act on our feelings.”

“Why not?” He smiled and tried again. She turned her head, catching his kiss on her cheek.

“Jake, I can't.”

He sighed and nodded. “I understand. We have a professional relationship. I'm your Realtor and—”

“There is that. Besides, things are too unsettled.”

“Right.”

Abbie stepped around him. “I'll see you in the morning.”

He smiled, almost melting her reserve. “You'll love it. The fishing is great in Bear Lake.”

“I'm looking forward to holding a pole in my hands again.”

“And the worms?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I'll leave that part to you and Pops.”

“And here I thought you were a true fisherman.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Bye, Jake.” Abbie opened the door and stepped inside.

He turned toward his car, whistling “Strangers in the Night.”

Smiling, she closed the door and leaned against it, glad he was no longer a stranger.

“Jake isn't coming in?” Carlene came around the corner.

“No.” Abbie moved away from the door after locking it. “Apparently he's coming fishing with Pops and me in the morning.”

“Oh.” It was a wistful sound. Maybe a tinge of jealousy. “Are you really going fishing? I'd hoped…never mind. I know how much your father wants to spend time with you.”

“Maybe we girls can go shopping in a day or two.”

“That would be nice. I'd like that.” She continued on into the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and proceeded to take several pills. Refilling the glass, she skirted past Abbie.

“I'll be off to bed, sweetheart. Do you need anything before I go?”

Abbie smiled. Ever the nurturer. “I'm good, Mom. Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow in disdain. “No, you won't. I put together snacks for you all. I plan to sleep until at least seven… unless Emma wakes up.”

Abbie hugged her. “I have a hunch she'll sleep late. But don't be surprised if she crawls into bed with you.”

“I'd love that.” She sighed, content as a hen whose chicks had come home to the nest.

After turning off the lights, Abbie lingered for a while, roaming around the large living room, pausing to look out the large picture window toward the ocean. A moonbeam painted a large swath across the water. She imagined herself standing there on the shore with Jake.

Abbie, Abbie, it's much too soon. And you hardly know the man
. Still she couldn't help but wonder.

Would he appreciate the earth's beauty as she did? Would he think her foolish for wanting to paint a scene like this? Sobering, she thought about Nate and his family. Nate had appreciated her work in the beginning. He'd told her he would build her a studio when he had time. He never found the time. Nate was a practical and thrifty man—much like his parents. There was little time on the farm for mooning about, drawing pictures and painting canvases in whimsical colors. Lack of time and hard work, along with Leah's disapproval, had nearly destroyed her dreams of being an artist. In Grand Forks, she'd regained her dream as well as her abilities.

Abbie shook her head to clear it of the farm and the sorrow it held for her.

The moonscape drew her back to what she had become— what she had always been, an artist. She imagined using a wide brush, saturated with color, to wash dark hues of blue across the sky. She would use wax resist to save the moonbeam swath and the white caps. The scene was much too perfect to resist.

Abbie hurried to her room to collect the brushes and paints she'd need, returned to the living room, and sat in one of the cushioned chairs. She sketched out the scene and wrote in soft pencil the names of the colors she would later use.

Once the sketch was done, she turned on a light over the table and painted her vision.

When she finished, she left it to dry on the wide kitchen counter then headed upstairs to get ready for bed.

Sleep didn't come easily. Perhaps it was the anticipation of seeing Jake again. Or the feel of his lips on hers. Or the vision of her and Jake walking on that moonlit beach she'd captured in her painting.

Abbie groaned and rolled onto her side. Punching up her pillow, she tried putting the man out of her mind. She'd begun to like him entirely too much.

She tried to focus on her breathing—on counting to ten with each inhalation and exhalation, but her thoughts shifted from dreamy visions of Jake, to seeing the attorney and facing the possibility of arrest, making sleep even more difficult.

The following morning her alarm went off at four and Abbie would have given anything for another four hours of sleep. Still, part of her was excited to see the property, the lake, and the man who'd brought her home.

At four-fifteen, Pops tapped lightly on her bedroom door, making certain she was awake.

“I'm almost ready.” She spoke softly so she wouldn't wake anyone.

“I'll be in the car. Got to pack our gear and get our lunch basket.”

Abbie dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved knit shirt. Since it would likely be cool until midmorning, she slipped a sweatshirt over the top. She thought about wearing makeup but decided against it. She was there to fish, not to impress Jake. She'd never worn makeup to go fishing and wasn't about to start now. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and banded it, then, on the way downstairs, grabbed one of her father's caps off a hook near the door.

Their gear consisted of a tackle box and poles along with a couple of rain ponchos. Abbie hoped they wouldn't need them. In the predawn darkness, the sky gave no hint as to what it intended to do.

By the time Abbie stepped outside, Pops was ready to go. She climbed into his old Jeep and off they went.

They drove through the main part of town until 101 curved to the right, taking them away from the beach. Abbie leaned her head against the seat back, thinking she might be able to catch a few winks.

“I saw your painting,” Pops said. “It's amazing.”

“Thanks. I got inspired last night.”

“So I see.” He glanced over at her. “I can't believe you went for so long without painting. All those years you were married to Nate, did you paint even once?”

She shrugged. “I lost my muse.”

“Nonsense. Those people took it.”

“Pops, don't.” Her parents hadn't wanted her to marry Nate. Back then, they had seen something she hadn't. In a way, he was right. They—or she should say Leah—had stolen her muse. She'd known how Leah felt about her artistic gifts. Told her living on the farm would knock some sense into her. Back then, Abbie didn't know how strong Leah was. And how weak she would be. Abbie blamed Leah for a long time, but during those two years in Grand Forks she realized that she shared the blame. She had allowed Leah to rule her life. She hadn't fought back. She'd believed the lies about her insufficiency. Like Leah's husband and sons, Abbie gave in too. It was always easier to let Leah have her way.

“I'm the one who quit painting. I'm the one who gave up.”

“But you're back.”

“I am.” Abbie sighed. “I loved Nate, Pops. And in a way, I love Leah. I just don't like her very much.”

He chuckled at that. “I have a feeling God would agree.”

“I'm afraid of her, Pops. I'm terrified at what she could do to me. At what she's already done.”

“God is with us, Abbie. No matter what happens, you need to believe that. The promise of light, of abundance, of hope, is ours.”

Abbie swallowed hard. “What if I'm arrested?”

“We'll pay the bail.”

“I'm a flight risk. I've proven that.”

Pops didn't respond. Instead, he eyed the road signs and slowed down, turning off the main highway onto Bear Lake Road. “Almost there.”

The road, barely two lanes, wound on for about a mile. Abbie felt fearful and excited all at once. The thought of buying over two hundred acres could do that to a person—especially someone like her. Her heart skipped as they passed the carved wooden sign, W
ELCOME TO
C
OLD
C
REEK
, E
ST
. 1882.

She turned to look at her father. “I love the entrance. Makes you feel like you're in another world.” Her excitement ebbed and in its place came a feeling of dread. Hairs rose on the back of her neck as they drove past the overgrown scrub maples that crowded the narrow road. A premonition of sorts? A warning that something was going to happen? As she peered into the dense shrubbery a branch reached into the open cab and brushed against her arm.

Abbie shivered and forced the worrisome thoughts away, attributing them to nerves and the eeriness of dawn. Instead, she focused on the smell of fresh air and the newborn leaves fluttering in the wind.

“Here we are.” Pops stopped at a junction in the road and pointed ahead.

Abbie felt a flood of disappointment. Three mismatched streetlights lit several boarded-up storefronts. The town looked as though it hadn't seen much activity for a long time. Jake had warned her about that. Still, it was emptier and more rundown than she'd imagined.

“I know it doesn't look like much now.” Pops peered out the windshield. “We'll come back later when it's daylight.”

It didn't look like there'd be much to see, daylight or otherwise. As he turned to the left, bypassing the main part of town, Abbie switched out her disappointment for optimism. She'd hold off on her critique until she had time to make a full assessment in the daylight.

They continued on through town and at a Y in the road, made a left. This, Pops told her, went around Bear Lake to the fishing dock.

They parked in the lot, and while they were pulling out their gear, Abbie looked around to get a feel for the place. A path led from the parking area to the dock, where several rowboats floated. Another path went from the dock to a doublewide trailer that sat atop a knoll. A large picture window gave the occupants a beautiful view of the lake.

“This looks like it would be a great place for a retreat center, Pops,” Abbie said. “Is the house and land here part of the property?”

“It is, and I was thinking the same thing.” Pops leaned into the trunk and pulled out the cooler that held their lunch. “It's a rental, like a lot of the places here. Travis Jennings lives here. He's the caretaker slash security guard. He stays rent-free and keeps tabs on the entire place.”

Abbie glanced toward the house. “Jake mentioned that Travis was a good friend.” He'd also mentioned that the police considered him a suspect. This Abbie kept to herself.

The doublewide looked rather old and Pops suggested they might want to get rid of it and build the retreat center in its place. They would need a large area and this seemed perfect. Abbie envisioned a dozen Adirondack chairs sitting on the slope and artists setting up easels, preparing to paint the sunset. The retreat center would have a glass front to take advantage of the view. The prospect excited her.

“I wonder how Travis would feel about moving,” she said as they made their way down to the dock. “Free rent is a great deal for a place like this, and I can't imagine a prettier view.” She smiled. “Except for your place, of course.” She'd have to talk to Travis about the possibilities.

Pops chuckled. “If I had my druthers, I'd build a log cabin right here on the lake so I could go fishing every morning right off my deck.”

Abbie laughed. “I'll bet you would.”

When Pops stopped in front of a boat tied at the dock, she set down the heavy tackle box. “This is it.” He pointed to the rather large boat with oars and a small motor. “I'm paying Travis to leave it here. Did you know he built this dock? I'm thinking we might want to keep him on as caretaker.”

“Have you talked to him about that?”

“Not yet. I thought we'd check with Jake first. Get his take on the situation.” He nodded back toward the parking lot. “Speak of the devil.”

Looking up, she spotted Jake driving into the lot. He parked his white caddie beside the Jeep, grabbed some gear, and jogged toward them.

He was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt, Abbie noticed as he passed under the yard light. His legs were muscular and as tan as his face. During their trip from North Dakota, she'd only seen him in slacks and sport shirts. Considering that the Northwest was just coming out of the rainy season, she suspected that Jake had recently spent time in a sunny climate. She could imagine him lying on a beach on some exotic shore.

And you lying beside him
.

The thought vanished when Travis came out of his house and waved. “Hey, Jake, got a minute?” Travis jogged over to meet him.

She couldn't hear what they said, but Travis sounded upset. Travis helped Jake with his gear and they began walking down the dock toward them. It was then she heard Travis say, “I know Jeff is just doing his job, but come on. He should know better than to think you or I could have anything to do with Barbara's disappearance.”

“I know it's frustrating, but we need to face facts. We probably knew Barbara better than anybody around here, and that's not saying much.”

Travis sighed heavily. “You're right, but how am I supposed to know why my ex-girlfriend's car went over a cliff?”

“He needs to ask.” Jake stopped a couple feet from where Abbie stood. His knowing smile reminded her of the kiss they'd shared the night before. She felt the warmth of a flush creep into her cheeks. “Have you met Abbie yet?”

Travis managed a smile. “Haven't had the pleasure. Hi Abbie, I'm Travis. Welcome to Cold Creek.” He held her hand a little longer than necessary—probably checking her out. “I'm glad to finally meet you. Your dad's been talking my ear off about this artists' retreat thing he's cooked up.”

“It's nice to meet you, Travis. Have you lived out here long?”