Treasure on Lilac Lane: A Jewell Cove Novel (19 page)

Jess leaned her head back against him shoulder, absently fiddling with his fingers, which were still twined together with hers. Being with Rick like this felt right, intimate. And while normally, she would shy away from using that word with someone so quickly, that ship had already sailed. If he didn’t want to be alone when he opened the box, she’d be there with him.

“Of course I will. You make the appointment and I’ll arrange to be there.” He was trusting her enough to ask. And today she’d seen a less complicated Rick, and the changes in him urged her to trust him, too.

“We’ll play it by ear,” he said. “And now, I should get going. Wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome.”

Jess smiled and got up from the sofa, waited as he grabbed his coat and shoes and walked him to the back door of her workroom to say good-bye. They lingered there for a moment, both of them unsure about what to do next. Smile and wave? Kiss? What sort of kiss? Quick and casual, or long and lingering? Rick finally made a move, leaning in and kissing her, not too fast but not too long either, just a slow, complete kiss that left her weak in the knees.

She watched him go, a part of her thrilled and another part of her scared to death. With Rick it wasn’t just physical. They’d known each other too long. Cared about each other too much for it not to have meaning. There was a gravity to being intimate with him that she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

Scared to death didn’t even begin to cover it. She was fully involved now, and she doubted he realized how much power she’d just placed in his hands.

He had the power to hurt her. She hadn’t allowed that to happen since Mike … but the truth was, when it came to Rick, she hadn’t had any other choice. When it came to Rick, her heart didn’t listen to logic.

*   *   *

Rick didn’t want to go home yet.

Being with Jess had been incredible. Better than he’d imagined. She’d been glorious.

He pulled his truck into The Rusty Fern. He was dying for a game of darts. He hadn’t been inside for weeks now, and for good reason. He’d been avoiding the bottle and doing a good job of it. But he wasn’t here for the liquor. He was here because he missed the guys, the social atmosphere. He could enjoy that, couldn’t he? And forget the rest?

It was worth a try. He felt he was ready to pass this test.

Inside the bar it smelled of frying grease, grilling beef, and yeasty beer. Rick inhaled the familiar aroma and scanned the room. Bingo. Tom and Bryce were shooting darts, two pints of beer on a nearby table. Tom shot a triple twenty that caused Bryce to curse under his breath and take a sip from one of the glasses.

“Fellas,” he greeted.

“Hey,” Tom replied, his gaze wary. “What brings you by, bud?”

“The house gets a bit quiet. I was hoping for a game of darts and here you two are. Just waiting for an ass kicking.”

Bryce chuckled dryly. “Bro, I’m already there.”

“Hey, Rick.” Tanya, one of the regular waitresses, came over with a tray of empties. “Can I get you something?”

He considered a single glass of beer. Perhaps one shot of rum—he could handle that, right? After all, it had been so long. Things were better now.

And then he thought of Jess, standing in the doorway to her place, looking soft and rumpled, and said, “Just a Coke, Tanya, thanks.”

Neither Bryce nor Tom said a word but Rick thought he could see their shoulders relax a bit.

“Carry on,” Rick suggested. “I’ll play the loser. It’s been a while, so it’ll be good for your ego.”

The game was over in minutes. Rick sipped at his soda and watched Tom aim a perfect last shot. “Looks like I’m playing the cop,” he observed, a half grin playing on his lips. He nodded at Tom. “Clearly married life hasn’t affected your dart game much. How was Paris?”

Good grief, was his friend
blushing
? “Paris was good, thanks.”

Bryce chuckled. “Abby was telling Mary all about it. Apparently our boy here is very romantic.”

“Shut up,” Tom advised. “I’ll go get the next round.”

When he was gone Rick picked his darts and took a few warm-up throws. They started their game while Tom chatted at the bar. It’d be a while before they saw their round, but that was okay. Neither of them was empty.

“So what’s new?” Rick asked, lining up for a shot. He let go and missed his target by a half inch.

“Not much. A few break and enters we’ve been looking into, but things have been pretty quiet. As they generally are when the tourist season winds down.” Bryce smiled and took aim, his shot perfect. “The wild parties tend to slow down once school’s back in and everyone’s gone home.”

“Mary’s doing okay?”

Bryce grinned. “Better than okay. She’s due December twenty-seventh, so give her another few weeks and she’ll start complaining about being as big as a barn and not being able to see her feet.”

Rick laughed. Bryce didn’t sound as if he minded too much.

“She’s driving me crazy about the baby’s room, though. It’s pink, the way it was for Alice, but we’ve moved Alice into a new room and she wants this one repainted. It’s a boy this time,” he said. “And she can’t decide on a color. Says she wants a mural or some crazy thing. Who in heck is going to paint a mural on our walls? Sure as hell isn’t going to be me. Unless she wants stick people.”

Another few shots and Rick conceded that he was indeed rusty. Bryce was wiping the floor with him.

Tom finally came back with their drinks. Rick could have used something stronger, but was thankful Tom had simply gotten him another Coke. As they paused to take a drink, Bryce put his hand on Rick’s arm.

“You’re not drinking,” Bryce observed. “Is it wrong to say I’m proud of you?”

“Naw,” Rick answered, taking another sip. “Bit awkward, but not wrong.”

“You had a lot of shit to deal with,” Bryce said, looking over at Tom. “I’m glad things seem to be coming around.”

“Me, too,” Tom added. “

Rick put down his drink, touched by his friends’ loyalty more than he wanted to admit, yet feeling a strange pressure to live up to their expectations. “I’m fine. Let’s just play some darts. I think I’ve spotted you a big enough lead.”

They went on to play for another hour, laughing and joking. When Abby came in to get the guys, Rick offered to be the designated driver so they could hang out a little more.

He didn’t want to go home. Didn’t want to go there and face an empty house full of disappointments. But he was happy about one thing. He’d faced something that needed facing and he’d done it without alcohol. Another test passed. Hell, if he kept on this way he might actually get his life back.

*   *   *

Jess met him at the bank. He’d been sitting in the waiting area for a few minutes when she rushed in the door, her hair blowing around her head and a scarf twined around her neck. “Sorry I’m late,” she panted, coming to a stop in front of him. “I got tied up with a customer.”

He smiled. “It’s okay. I haven’t been here long. Thanks for coming.”

She smiled reassuringly and he let out a breath. “Let’s do this, then.”

A cashier led them back to a private room, where the box was waiting. He produced his key while the cashier withdrew her guard key and the lid to the box opened.

The cashier left them alone, quietly shutting the door behind her.

“You ready to look inside?” Jess asked softly.

He wasn’t sure. This felt so strange. He’d never felt like they had any secrets, he and his mom.

Jess put her hand over his. “There’s no rush, you know. You can do this when you’re ready.”

There was no sense putting it off, he realized. It wouldn’t change anything. He opened the lid on the box and looked inside. All that waited for him was a velvet bag. That was it.

He picked up the soft bag, held the heavy weight of it in his palm. He sat in the vinyl chair provided and eased open the drawstring, pouring the contents out into his hand. It was a necklace. A very old necklace with red stones, the dark metal of the settings marking it as antique and nothing new at all.

“What the hell?” He looked up at Jess. Her face held a mesmerized look, almost like she couldn’t believe what he was holding. “What was my mom doing with something like this? It can’t be real, can it?”

Jess swallowed. “It’s beautiful. The color and the setting are a work of art.” Her finger lifted and gently stroked the necklace in Rick’s hand. “God, look at that. I think it is real, Rick. The collets and clasp are rose gold from the looks of it. I think it’s real and very, very old.”

“Real? But that’s crazy. Why would my mom have something like this?”

“I have no idea. Maybe it’s a family heirloom?”

Rick’s frown deepened. “Jess, I don’t come from the sort of family that has heirlooms.”

She picked up the necklace, turned it over in her hand, and examined it.

“What is it?” he asked. “You’ve got this strange look on your face.” He couldn’t read her eyes right now and that troubled him.

“Would you like me to look into it for you?” she asked. “I can make some inquiries. Have it appraised, that sort of thing.”

“Sure. You know more about this sort of thing than I do.” He put the necklace back in the pouch and frowned before handing it over to her. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked again.

He shrugged. “I guess.” He paused, swallowing hard, and looked down at the key in his hand—the key that had somehow felt like the last real connection to his mom—before turning back to Jess. “I think I was expecting more. Something more … meaningful and emotional. Only I don’t know what. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

She tucked the pouch into her handbag. “It doesn’t have to make sense. You want to come over?” she asked. “We can grab some takeout and veg on the couch for a while.”

“I’d like that.”

They got up and left the box on the table, now empty. Jess took his hand as they went out into the main area of the bank, but he let go when he got to the desk again and spoke to the cashier.

He’d thought today would be about finally letting go of his mom, but instead he was left with more questions. Where did the necklace come from and what was its significance?

C
HAPTER
15

Jess clutched the velvet bag in her hand as she knocked on Abby’s front door the week before Thanksgiving. She tucked her chin into her scarf, protection from the cold, raw air that seeped into her bones, and shoved her gloved hands deep into her pockets.

She wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing by coming here. The moment Rick had put the necklace in her hands, she knew she’d seen it before. It had been in the photo that Abby had brought by when she’d asked Jess to make her necklace for the wedding. That day she’d asked Rick if he wanted her to do some digging around, but she’d never told him her suspicions or that she was asking for Abby’s help. There was no sense prompting questions if she’d gotten it all wrong, after all. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him.

Abby opened the door, a broad smile on her face. “Jess! Gosh, it’s good to see you. Tom’s working late and it’s so quiet around here. Come on in.”

Jess stepped inside the warm house and shrugged off her coat. Every time she visited she noticed something different about the mansion, some little detail that made it into the showpiece it was. As they walked down the hall, today’s revelation was the porch door that Rick had painted. Even in the dim light, the colors were vibrant and rich.

He had so much talent.

“Come on in and I’ll get us some cocoa or something.” Abby led the way into the library that served a dual purpose as a den.

Jess stopped in the middle of the room. “No cocoa for me, thanks anyway,” she said, a little nervous. “I actually came here for a reason. I have something to show you and I want to get your honest opinion, your first reaction to it.”

“What is it?” Abby came forward, her happy face now wreathed in concern. “Are you okay, Jess?”

“I’m fine,” she reassured her friend. “Come sit with me and I’ll show you.”

When they were seated side by side, Jess unfolded her hand and revealed the bag. She undid the string and slid the necklace out of the soft folds. The dancing light from the fireplace flickered over the heavy stones.

“Oh my gosh. That’s stunning. Where on earth…” Abby’s voice faded a little. “That looks like … but it can’t be. I’d swear it’s identical to…”

“I thought so, too,” Jess said, and her stomach twisted, though she wasn’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment. Why on earth would Roberta Sullivan have a Foster family heirloom? It made no sense. “Do you still have the picture of Edith and your grandmother?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’ll be right back.”

Abby disappeared out the library door but returned in seconds, clutching a picture frame in her fingers. “This is it.” She sat down again and held out the picture. Jess held the necklace so it formed a perfect oval. There was no question. If this wasn’t the same necklace, it was a damned good imitation. The stones, the setting, everything …

“Where did you find this?” Abby asked.

“I’m telling you this in absolute confidence,” she said quietly, the stones in her hand a warm reminder of the faith Rick had placed in her. “You can’t say anything to anyone, okay?”

“Of course.”

“It was in a safe deposit box that Roberta left Rick.”

“What?” Abby’s brow furrowed. “But why would Roberta have it? Was there any explanation?”

Jess swallowed thickly, knowing that her next words were going to betray Rick’s trust, and yet she couldn’t think of another way to explain the connection. “Maybe.” She closed her hand around the necklace. “You promise you’ll keep this to yourself?”

Abby’s gaze locked with hers. “I promise, Jess. Good heavens, what could be so serious?”

Jess swallowed. If she wanted to help him, to help him get some closure, she needed answers. And this was Abby. Jess trusted her completely.

“Rick was adopted, Abby. Roberta and Graham Sullivan were your great-aunt Marian’s last clients. That’s really the only link I could come up with. The only connection Rick has to the Foster family was his adoption. And maybe it’s something completely innocent. Maybe Marian sold it to Roberta. Or maybe it was a gift, but…” Jess paused. “I don’t know. I just have a feeling that the necklace is more important than that. Why else would Roberta have hidden it away for all these years?”