Tide Will Tell (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans) (16 page)

Jocelyn shook her head. “Not as far as I know.”

“I’m really sorry to hear about the deputies…” Josh consulted her nametag. “…Jocelyn. But we were hoping Marion could help us understand what happened to Trina Cole. She was close to her, right?”

“Trina was her best friend.” She gave Kate a consoling look. “But I’m sure Marion won’t ever talk to you. She’s pretty unhappy about this whole situation.”

Josh nodded. “I’m sure it must be hard for her to see Chase moving on.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “She has no use for him. None of us do.”

“Oh?” Kate traded a cautious glance with Josh, not sure if she was ready to hear what might follow that statement.

Jocelyn’s eyes brimmed with remorse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No.” Kate gulped. “Go on. Please.”

Jocelyn nodded. “It’s just that everyone around here knows he’s not exactly ethical in his business practices.” She glanced around then leaned forward, as if to indicate they should huddle if they wanted to hear more. “There’s talk that he greases palms to get his drugs pushed through the testing so they can get FDA approval and start earning profits faster.”

Kate felt the bagel she’d eaten earlier at the Shaw Island General Store do a flip in her belly. “People say that?”

Jocelyn shrugged. “I guess you have to resort to that sort of thing in order to make money like he does. And we’re grateful that he spends some of it on local art. That’s how he met Trina, you know.”

Kate grappled with this new bit of information. “By buying art?”

“Yes.” Apparently noticing Kate’s look of confusion, she clarified. “Trina worked here when she first moved to the islands. Back in…I think…about 1990. That’s how she and Marion became friends.”

“I see,” Josh encouraged her to continue. “So Mr. Cole was a customer here?”

“That’s right. Apparently, he liked Trina’s work and he asked her to go out to see the house he was having built on Shaw.”

An uncomfortable feeling gnawed at Kate. This acknowledgment that the man she was going to marry had experienced not just a life, but a
love
life before she was even born was unnerving to say the least. She glanced at Josh, certain that he was thinking the same thing.

If Jocelyn noticed her discomfort, she didn’t let on. “Chase wanted her to advise him on which art pieces to buy. From what I hear, most of the art she placed is still in his home.”

Kate thought about what she’d seen so far of the artwork in their house. The Native American and Pacific Northwest paintings and pottery. The intricately carved masks. The chandelier. Trina had chosen all of it.

Jocelyn’s face crinkled. “It’s so sad that Marion wouldn’t sell you the seahorse. It just seems like it belongs in that house.”

Kate twisted a glance at the window where the sculpture had stood the day before. Seeing that it had been replaced by a multi-colored vase, her heart sank. “Did she sell it to someone else?”

“She put it in her office.” Jocelyn’s brows formed a knot in her forehead as she looked back at the closed door once again. “I don’t know why she’s holding onto it. She knows its value, all things considered.”

Maybe it was her ignorance about art, but Kate wasn’t quite following Jocelyn’s thinking. “I’d be happy to pay her what it’s worth.”

“Of course.” Jocelyn smiled kindly. “But it
is
a little awkward to appraise, considering how we acquired it.”

Josh’s demeanor remained patient and conversational. “And how
did
you acquire it?”

“Oh, it was anonymously donated to the gallery. It just showed up one day with no return address and no information attached.”

Josh furrowed his brow. “That seems strange.”

“Very.” Jocelyn turned a sympathetic eye on Kate. “I’ll see if I can talk her into selling it to you. It just isn’t healthy for her to be hanging onto it.”

“Not healthy?” Kate asked.

“No. You know.” She lowered her voice. “The reminder of Trina.”

A chill passed through Kate. Why would that particular piece remind Marion of Trina?

Jocelyn straightened a display of brochures on the counter, as if fulfilling a need to look busy. “That’s why Marion put it in the window. To draw the tourists into the gallery.”

Kate flicked a questioning look at Josh, who tweaked an eyebrow in response.

Jocelyn seemed to take their reaction as cause to defend her last statement. “It might seem opportunistic, but business is business. If it hadn’t been for Trina going missing when she did, Marion would have lost the gallery.”

Kate frowned. What would Trina’s disappearance have to do with Marion not losing her business?

The whoosh of a door opening stopped Kate’s question before she could ask it.

“Jocelyn.” Marion charged out of her office, still studying her notes on the clipboard. “Did you finish the press release for the group art show…?” She glanced up. Seeing Josh and Kate, she halted and her demeanor turned stony.

“I’ll get right on that, Marion.” Looking like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Jocelyn scurried away.

Slowly narrowing the space between them, Marion hugged her clipboard. “What are the two of you still doing here?”

“We were talking to Jocelyn about the seahorse sculpture.” Josh’s tone remained confident. “My friend here is still interested in it. Would you mind showing it to us?”

Kate shot him a look. What was he up to?

Obviously wondering the same thing, Marion lowered her chin and countered him a look over the top of her glasses. “It’s not for sale.” She shifted her weight from one lace-up granny shoe to the other. “Now, please leave.”

“Thank you.” Josh put his hand on Kate’s elbow. “But if you change your mind, let us know.”

“I won’t.” Marion slapped the clipboard onto the counter. “See that you don’t come back.”

Standing outside a moment later, Josh let out a long breath. “Well, that was strange.”

“I’ll say.” Kate hadn’t exactly expected a warm reception, but now she felt more confused than ever. “What do you suppose Jocelyn meant by Marion not losing the gallery because of Trina’s disappearance?”

He shook his head. “The best I can figure is people heard that Trina used to work here, so that attracted the curious.”

“Maybe. But I think there’s more to it than that. And it has something to do with the artist who puts flecks of gold in her glass.”

“Flecks of gold?” Josh’s gaze narrowed. “Are you talking about the seahorse?”

“And Chase’s chandelier.”

“Wow, you’re observant.” His mouth lifted in an admiring smile. “You think they were made by the same person?”

“I don’t know much about glass art, but they sure look like it.” She tried to ignore the campfire his smile sparked in her chest. “And for some reason, the seahorse reminds Marion of Trina.”

“Plus Trina picked out the chandelier. What do you suppose it all means?”

She shook her head. “Probably nothing. I bet we’re wasting our time chasing down a rabbit trail.” She turned to head back to the car. “Now I’m hungry and sleepy, and my leg hurts.”

“Fine, Dr.Watson.” Josh’s mouth twisted as he made a show of matching her hobbly pace. “Let’s scout out a drive-through while we plan our next move.”

“Careful, Sherlock.” She tossed him a playful look. “Someone might mistake us for friends.”

The crooked smile she won with that remark made her blush. And she’d been warning
him
to be careful.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m suggesting a date. Not quite.” A twinkle glinted in his eye. “Well,
almost
.”

She gave his arm a swat as he opened the car door for her. The thought of having a not-quite-but-almost date with Josh gave her a much-needed feeling of normalcy.

Settling into the car, she positioned her purse in her lap, and the reminder that the note still burned a hole in its outer pocket brought her back to reality. It was a warning that she was next in line as a victim, but of whom? The obvious answer was Chase, but did someone know about Karen? Were they telling Kate that she was ‘next’ to suffer the same fate as her?

The thought brought a shiver.

Josh slid into the driver’s seat and flashed her a smile that stilled her nerves like a blanket of safety.

She pitched her purse to the floor. All her worries were, at least for the time being, held captive by that dimpled grin.

Chapter 17

Curled in a ball under a blanket on the passenger side floor of Josh’s car, Kate let her thoughts wander. Sharing their take-out lunch of burgers and fries in the car on the ferry ride back from Friday Harbor had been more fun than she’d had in ages. In spite of her ongoing safety concerns, she had managed to relax and be herself. The only explanation was that she had come to completely trust this guy. She could be real with him without any fear of rejection or betrayal.

She chewed on her lower lip. Did that mean she could tell him the real reason she was afraid for her life? And more importantly,
should
she?

“We’re through the gate.”

Relieved to hear his muffled proclamation, Kate pulled the blanket off her head and groaned. She hoisted herself up onto the seat, then removed his ball cap from her head and shook out her hair. She rubbed her temples and tried once again to make sense of everything Jocelyn had told them.

None of it brought her any closer to knowing the truth, and the more she thought about it, the more her head hurt.

Josh eyed her. “Is the hat giving you a headache?”

“It’s not that.” She managed a light smile. “I appreciate your helping me keep a low profile. I’m just getting tired of feeling like one of Michael Jackson’s kids every time I go out in public.”

Josh chuckled. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t see any paparazzi outside the gate.”

She huffed. “You mean I impersonated Shirley Temple in
Stowaway
for no reason?”

“We still can’t be too careful, Shirley.” His voice rumbled playfully, as if their biggest concern today was how to get the smell of greasy fries out of his car. “Sorry the only blanket I have to offer is covered in cat hair. It’s the one Godzilla sleeps on when she goes for rides.”

Kate laughed. “Godzilla?”

He returned a smile. “She’s my tiny terror.”

Josh found a parking spot around the side of the house next to the upscale fleet that belonged to Jessica’s friends. He turned off the engine and gave Kate an assessing look. “Home, sweet home.”

She folded her arms, in no hurry to move. “You really think I’m making a mistake, don’t you? Marrying Chase, I mean.”

He took in a long breath. “I just don’t get it. You’re engaged to a billionaire who’s old enough to be your father. You should be taking your time to make sure he’s everything he seems to be, but you’re not willing to postpone the wedding. You don’t seem like the gold digger type to me, so what’s the rush?”

A gold digger?
Kate pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.
Was
she marrying Chase just for his money? She had arrived here thinking she honestly loved him, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“It’s not like money itself is so important to me,” she said. “I mean, not that I’ve ever really had any to speak of.”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I can relate.”

“And it bothers me that people assume Chase earned his money by being dishonest.”

“You think that’s just an assumption?” Josh rested his hands on the steering wheel.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he thought for a moment. “Money and morality are like two cars driving towards each other on a one lane road. Eventually one of them is going to wind up in the ditch.”

She crinkled her nose. “You ever think of working for Hallmark?”

“My point is that the two usually don’t go together. Personally, I’d rather eat Raman and keep my integrity.”

Letting out a breath, she considered. An unsettled feeling had prevailed since her arrival, and nothing made sense anymore. She yearned for a happy life with a man she adored, but lately that yearning hadn’t involved Chase. What was up with that?

She stole a quick look at Josh’s strong profile and realized she had spent far more time with him since coming here than with Chase. No wonder she was so confused.

After a stretch of contemplative silence confirmed that the conversation had run its course, they both got out. Kate leaned against the car, giving her stiff knee a stretch. Now that she’d been fed, she longed for a nap, but where? The guesthouse no longer felt safe, and the main house was overrun with living examples of spoiled entitlement. What was she going to do?

As Josh crossed around the front of the car, the sight of his muscular form under his ‘Seattle International Film Festival’ t-shirt almost provided the boost she needed without the shuteye.

A sudden urge to confide in him collided with her previous misgivings. Maybe she
should
talk to him about Joe and her theory about the real meaning behind the note. Tell him about the money and Karen and…everything. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her purse and fingered the folded paper.

“Are you okay?”

She looked up, only then realizing that he had reached her side of the car. She leaned her hip against the car door. “Josh.” She took the note out of her purse and held it up to him. “I think there might be something more to this note than I told you.”

Brow furrowing, he reached over to take it, but his fingers grazed hers and they stood there, hands touching and neither of them letting go of the paper. Their eyes locked and all the air seemed to vacate the vicinity.

“What…” he cleared his throat. “What is it?” His voice sounded husky, passionate, concerned.

As she looked into his eyes, part of her had to admit that she didn’t really want the life she had come here to live. She yearned for a life of passion, of being really and truly known and understood by the one person she could know and understand in return. She longed for love. If she had that kind of love, wouldn’t she feel protected?

Suddenly, her need to feel safe consumed her like a hurricane. Images from the past flicked across her mind—of her stepdad lashing out at her, and of the look in Joe’s eyes as he angrily slashed with his scalpel. If she expected Josh to keep her safe, she had to tell him everything. It was the only way he could know what to do.