Tide Will Tell (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans) (5 page)

It had been taken her sophomore year, just a few weeks before everything in her life had fallen apart. Looking at this picture, it felt as though nothing had changed, and she was standing in the front yard of their house next to her mom, wearing the vintage embroidered blouse that had been one of her favorite thrift store finds.

She swallowed hard to prevent her throat from closing. What had happened to that blouse, along with the rest of her things when she’d left San Diego? She pictured the other girls living in the condo claiming her things, like a pack of cheetahs ripping the meat off a gazelle. The thought made her stomach turn.

Maybe it hadn’t happened that way. She had tried for months to comfort herself with the thought that Shari and little Iowa had protected her meager belongings from the others. When they’d realized she was gone for good, they would have divided her things between the two of them. She hoped, if that had been the case, that they would find comfort in good memories of her whenever they wore something that had belonged to her. She looked again at the picture. The vintage blouse would be too big for Iowa, but it would bring out the green in Shari’s eyes. That thought always made Kate smile.

Wiping a tear away, she placed the ‘mom’ side of the photo against her lips. She’d tried not to think about her parents since she left. Did they even still live in the same house? She couldn’t care less about her stepdad, but would she ever get to see her mom again?

Her eyes pinched shut. Maybe she wasn’t quite past tearing up, after all.

A sharp whistling sound dragged her from her thoughts.
The tea kettle.
Keeping the stack of photos in her hand, she grabbed the wedding binder and headed for the kitchen. She had to stop being so jumpy. Probably the residual effect of seeing that creepy guy in the black sweat jacket earlier.

Stop it, Kate.
That was probably just some islander crossing the street, not realizing a car was turning in front of him. Forget that it was a warm cloudless day, not the type of day people who
weren’t
up to no-good chose to don a black sweat jacket and pull the hood down over their face.

Reaching the kitchen, she lifted the sputtering and spewing kettle. Just like her to overfill it.

After making her tea, she mopped up the puddle that had accumulated on the floor in front of the stove then grabbed her photos from the counter. She’d have to put them away someplace safe—she couldn’t let anyone see that she used to have dark hair and a funky style, back when everyone knew her as ‘Kathy’. More and more, she appreciated the importance of keeping her past hidden.

Her past
. Images flashed through her head like a nightmarish slideshow. Escaping the horrors of living with her stepdad only to trade them for the dangers of San Diego street life. And later, watching from the viewing chamber as Joe performed surgery at the clinic.

She stopped herself, blinking hard to drive out that awful image. Too bad she hadn’t discovered the truth sooner. Before she became an unwitting accomplice. And now a thief too—no better than Joe. Joe wasn’t a surgeon, any more than he was a miracle worker or a messiah or anything else but a con man and a thief and a….

Oh, poor Karen.

The shaking in her hands started again. She’d been doing such a good job of washing out that memory. Rinsing it from her reality.

Her hands rubbed at her face as if she could physically drive all thoughts of Karen out of her memory bank.
Start fresh.
Whatever it took.

Willing her hands to steady, she picked up her mug then headed out to the deck that was just off the living room. Glancing down, she enjoyed that this view was even more intimate than the one from the big house, because this house sat a little lower, and closer to the water. Settling into a plush deck chair, she looked out at the sunlight dancing on the water, and at the soft green islands beyond. This was exactly what she needed to wash away her concerns.

The water seemed alive. Not just the water itself, but the birds flying, and something—fish?—jumping. Yet for all the movement around her, this place was remarkably quiet. Just the joyful chant of the birds and the lapping sound of the water hitting the rocks below her. She really had come to paradise.

Taking a satisfying sip of her tea, she gazed out at land directly across the water, and realized it was the Shaw Island ferry landing. She could actually see the ferries coming and going from here. Even if she became a recluse at Chase’s house, the view gave her an unexpected link to the outside world.

Leaning forward, she looked down off the deck at a steep stone incline that led practically straight down to the rocky shore. A chill ran down her spine.

She sat back, trying not to panic. What was she doing in a house in the woods with no one around her? At least in San Francisco, she’d had the reassurance of the constant presence of witnesses should anything happen. If Joe found her here, what would stop him from doing the unthinkable?

She mentally shook herself.
Don’t be ridiculous, Kate.
If Joe was going to find her, he would have done it by now. Wouldn’t he?

She really needed to stop thinking this way. She’d been careful. Even traveled to a different state. How could she not be safe?

Returning in her mind to that day at the clinic, Kate scolded herself. Why had she gone back to check on Karen when she’d heard her yelling at Joe? If she had just kept walking, she wouldn’t be afraid for her life now.

She choked back the anguish that came from her next thought. She
had
gone back. And become a witness to Karen’s murder. Then she had made herself an accomplice by doing nothing about it.

Not that she could have stopped Joe, but she could have reported what she’d seen to the police. A brutal stabbing. A woman murdered in cold blood right in front of her. And because she’d been too scared to report it, Joe had gone free.

Her eyes lowered to the water where a long dock jutted out just a few yards from the bottom of her deck stairs. A couple of small boats bobbed next to the dock. Out a little further, a larger boat sat unmoving in the bay.

She strained to see it through the trees. Could that be Chase’s yacht? She remembered now that he had told her the water was too shallow off this dock and that he kept it moored at the yacht club in Friday Harbor unless someone was using it. She squinted to see if there were any signs of life on the deck. Seeing no one, she read the name on the side.
Magnificent Obsession
.

She smiled.
That’s right.
Chase had told her that Sam, his business partner whom she had yet to meet, had come up with the name. Maybe he was a movie buff like her.

A movement grabbed the corner of her eye in the trees below. Snapping her head to the left, she saw nothing unusual, but the certainty that something was wrong lingered. She leaned, ever so slightly, toward the railing.

Nothing. It must have been a squirrel, or a bird. She sat back and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, an odd smell set off her internal alarm system. She bolted out of her seat.

Something inside the house was burning.

Chapter 7

Kate panicked. Had she remembered to turn off the stove?

She dashed back inside, and saw a thin wisp of white smoke trailing up from the burner. It would be so like her to start a fire her first day there.

She reached out to make sure the knob was turned all the way to ‘off’, but pulled her hand back when she felt heat rising from the stovetop. It was off…why was it still hot?

What now
? Even with all the trouble she’d had in her life, she’d never been good at keeping a cool head.

Think.
Power source. Fuse box! She dashed from room to room looking for a grey metal panel. Why did they always hide these things? She hoped against hope that rich people didn’t have their houses built with fuse box doors that blended in with the wall so as not to clash with their décor.

Unsuccessful, she ran back to the kitchen. The smoke had gotten thicker, and she wondered if the stove might actually explode.

At a loss, she ran outside, her knee giving her a painful warning not to move too quickly. Not only that, but her feet were bare.
Smart, Kate.

She needed help, but what was she supposed to do—call 9-1-1 and have the fire truck come to announce her ineptitude? How would it even get through the locked gate?

True fear started to set in as she proceeded painfully up the stone path toward the big house. She didn’t want Chase to know what she’d done, and above all she didn’t want his kids to know. Jessica would think Kate was a complete idiot, and she’d probably be right.

A rustling noise from the direction of the front yard pulled her attention, and she slowed her steps. Through the trees, she made out the form of the one person who might show her some compassion.

“Josh!”

He lifted his head, and his eyes lit up. “Hey—”

“Come on! I need your help!” Wildly waving her arms, she shifted her momentum to start back in the direction from which she’d come. If they wasted time, the guesthouse might wind up as a pile of very expensive ashes.

He quickly caught up to her. “What’s wrong?”

“My stove is smoking.” She tried to disregard the handsome features beneath the concern on his face. “I can’t find the fuse box.”

“Did you look outside?” He started around the side of the house, looking over his shoulder for her answer.

“Oh, well…no.” Slowing to appease her knee, she watched him disappear into the thick foliage that surrounded her house.

She hobbled back to the front door and entered the house, rounding the corner from the foyer just as Josh opened the back door and entered the kitchen.

“Whoa.” She halted. “That was unlocked?”

Barely looking up, he gave her a nod as he headed for the stove.

It alarmed her for a moment that the door had been unsecured all this time and she hadn’t bothered to check. A string of unwelcome memories trailed after that thought. Barricading herself in her room and praying her drunken stepdad wouldn’t try to get to her. Cowering in public restrooms, hoping not to be discovered by security so she could sleep in peace. Her surroundings had improved by leaps and bounds, but this was no time to let down her guard.

Inside, the smell lingered but had lessened, and the air appeared clear. Josh approached the stove looking a whole lot less fearful than she herself felt.

“Is it still hot?” She ventured toward him, hoping she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself for no good reason.

“A little.”

She kept her distance as he confidently checked the stove like he did this every day. He expertly removed the control panel along the front of the cook top.

Leaning a little closer, her confidence in him rose by the second.

“Oh, I see what’s going on.” He glanced at her and pointed at the part of the stove he had exposed. “This thing has water in it. Check it out.”

She stepped forward. He was right. The area inside looked like a robot’s guts, and was partially filled with water.

He reached for a roll of paper towels and started soaking up the wayward moisture. “Did something overflow?”

She hesitated to admit it. “I guess I overfilled my tea kettle.”

“Oh. Well, the seal here isn’t in place, so no wonder the water got in. My guess is that this has been a problem for a while, so it’s not anything you did.”

“Oh…but, why was it smoking?”

He cocked a contemplative eyebrow. “Was the smoke white or grey?”

“White.”

“I bet it was steam, which would make sense considering how hot this water still is.”

“Oh.” Her pulse began to normalize. “And the burning smell?”

He shrugged. “Looks like the water shorted out a wire. See how the insulation is melting? Good thing you caught it when you did.”

A shudder ran through her as she took the soaked towels from him and located the trash can under the sink. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

“Sort of.” He tossed her a half-smile. “My uncle’s a contractor and I work for him in the summer. You’d be amazed at the problems that can crop up in a house, so I’ve gotten some practical experience. You’ll have to get the wiring fixed before you use the stove again, but I can fix this seal if you want.”

“Would you?” She crossed back to him and perched on the stool on the opposite side of the island.

“No problem.”

They shared a smile, and her face heated. What was that all about?

He started to return to his work, but got sidetracked by something on the counter. “Hey, is this you? You look so different.”

She followed his gaze, and her pulse took off running again. She never left her photos out where other people could see them. How could she have been so careless? Horrified, she grabbed them. “It’s…from a long time ago.”

He shifted his attention back to the stove. “When was that taken? High school?”

She nodded, embarrassed now by her abrupt action.

If he was offended he didn’t show it. “Looks like California. L.A?”

She hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much about herself. “Sure.”
Sacramento, really.
A small lie of about four hundred miles, but what did it matter?

“No kidding? What part? I grew up in Orange County.”

“Really?”
Great.
Not wanting to risk getting caught in her own web of lies, she changed the subject. “Look, I really appreciate your helping me, but you don’t have to hang around.”

“I’ll be done in just a minute.” He continued to work. “So, is that your mom?”

She held the photos in her lap with trembling hands. “Yes.” What was she saying? She was so flustered now she couldn’t think.

“Is she coming up for the wedding?” The question seemed conversational, not like he was prying.

“No, not exactly.” She casually slipped the photos between two of the cookbooks next to her knees as a temporary hiding place. “Sorry to be dramatic. I just don’t think I look good in pictures.”

His glance said he understood they were changing the subject. “You know,
most
people don’t like the way they looked in high school.
I
was a typical nerd. Totally into chess and movies.”