A Shore Thing (34 page)

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Authors: Julie Carobini

BOOK: A Shore Thing
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The bespeckled kid gasped. “My job.”

Gage squinted at the kid, holding him at arm’s length like a shirt on a hanger. “Your job is to spy on praying women?”

“I’m a reporter.”

Gage shook him free. “What for? A tabloid?”

“N-no!”

“Then tell you what—stop acting like it. You want to be taken seriously, then you need to learn to be upfront with people.” Gage nodded at the pile of leaves and stems that littered the ground. “You tear that hole in the vines?”

Terrified, the kid nodded more than necessary.

“You’d better pray your newspaper’s willing to pay for the restoration. That’s someone’s work you messed with.” Gage had a feeling he knew whose work that was. “Now what do you want? You’re Eliot Hawl, I presume.”

“Yes, sir. I wanted to find out Ms. Duflay’s reaction to news that Tim Kitteridge has been hospitalized.”

“Hospitalized? Why?”

“Don’t know exactly—that’s someone else’s beat. It’s news ’cuz he and his wife are at the center of the SOS campaign.”

Gage’s mind turned that one over. Callie had just been accused of orchestrating a campaign against the elderly couple, of taking advantage of them. This news wouldn’t make her life any easier, and he wanted to be there to catch her should she fall.

Gage kept a steely gaze on the kid. “You the one who’s been leaving those threatening letters at Callie’s home?”

“N-no.” He glanced through the man-made peephole. “Someone’s been
threatening
her?”

“That’s what I said. You’re the only one I can think of who’s been following her around. What do you know about her dog?”

Eliot’s eyes popped open till they matched the size of his wire-rimmed glasses. “Nothing!”

Gage searched the kid’s face for some sign of lying but found none. Yet something like recognition seemed to move across his face. Eliot looked away.

“You suddenly remember something?”

Eliot’s eyes slid back toward Gage. “Maybe. I’ll need to investigate—”

Gage grabbed Eliot’s collar again and the kid flinched. “Hold on. Forget about any more investigation. Callie’s a friend of mine, and I’m tired of seeing your byline next to her name. You just go ahead and tell me what you’ve thought of.”

Eliot swallowed and swayed under Gage’s unyielding grip. “Nothing really, just that I saw Tim Kitteridge a couple of times hanging out at Ms. Duflay’s place.”

Gage shifted and dropped the kid’s collar. “What do you mean ‘hanging out’? As in visiting her?”

Eliot straightened and threw a daggered look back at him. “She was never home when I saw him there. No, he was just walking around her garden, sniffing stuff. I think he might have brought her some mail.”

“Where were you hiding during all that?”

He hesitated until Gage narrowed his eyes. “Behind her shed on the side of the house, mostly. Sometimes behind a truck on the street. Wherever I could get a good look.”

Gage stepped backward, snapping a twig. A thought tore through his mind.
I think he might have brought her some mail.
Could Tim Kitteridge have been the one who had been threatening Callie? He glanced at Eliot, hoping the kid hadn’t settled on the same thought.

Too late. Eliot smiled. “Poor Tim Kitteridge.”

Gage quirked up his chin. “What do you mean by that?”

The kid’s smile grew into a nasty grin. “Thanks a lot for the tip, Mr. Friend of Callie’s. I think I just figured why old Tim Kitteridge had been hanging around her place.” He looped his camera around his neck. “Guess I’ll be leaving now.”

“Hold on. You’ve got some explaining to do about the hole you’ve left.”

Eliot had already begun to back away. “Send the paper the bill. They’ll handle it.”

Gage swung back toward the spray of light at the end of the path. Callie, who still sat in contemplation at the foot of that cross, had no idea how far the kid might go to win a gold star from his editor. He entered the clearing and pulled up beside her. “Callie?”

She spun around from her perch on a stump. The sober look on her face relaxed into a smile and she stood. “Gage. What are you—”

He hadn’t planned to kiss her, but he did, closing her mouth with his before she could finish the question. She didn’t resist and he reveled in her arms. For the moment Gage let all the questions that filled his mind fall away.

Chapter Thirty-six

Finally I pushed him away from me, surprised by my sudden lightness of heart. “You haven’t answered my question, Gage. What are you doing here?”

He smiled, but something faltered in his expression. He caressed my face with one hand. “I missed you. Been working ’round the clock but didn’t want to wait another day to see you.”

He wasn’t exactly my boyfriend—do thirty-year-old women still use that term? What was he to me? Our hands intermingled and my fingers played with his as I stood wondering where we would go from here.

Abruptly he dropped his hand from my face and pulled me toward two tree stump seats. “Let’s sit a minute, okay? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” I took my seat again. As I did, the reality of my morning whooshed through my head. The last time I stepped into this chapel, I discovered Squid and Peyton locked in an embrace of their own. Now, she’s pregnant. Sobering thought.

Gage glanced at me. “You okay?”

I forced myself to brighten, which wasn’t terribly difficult considering he sat next to me. “Yeah.”

Gage huffed out a sigh. “I heard you on the radio the other day.”

What could I say to that? If he heard the entire thing, then he heard a disaster. He probably figured I had given up, and that I would merrily take his hand and let him show me the plans for Otter Bay. Could he handle knowing I wasn’t ready to compromise?

I squeezed his hand. “Sorry you had to hear that. Admittedly, not one of my best moments. Okay, actually, one of the worst.”

“You were boxed into a corner. It was obvious.”

I searched his eyes. “Thanks. You’re right about that.”

He opened his mouth, took a breath, then closed it again and pressed his lips together as if not sure of how he wanted to phrase something. His eyes were penetrating, his brows furrowed.

I cocked my chin. “What’s bothering you, Gage?”

He shifted. “Just wondering why you didn’t defend yourself better. I don’t know, Callie. You don’t seem like the type of woman who would take advantage of a little old couple.”

I withdrew my hand. “Of course not!”

“Then why not say so? Why let that caller cast you in such a dark way?”

I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t tell him June’s secret. I had promised her. I shrugged. “I don’t know. Let’s leave it at that, all right?”

He didn’t look all right. Gage’s eyes appeared cloudy and his jaw had a firm set to it. If I had more confidence about how he felt about me, I might grab that jaw of his and turn it until his mouth found mine again. As it was, I figured that he had doubts about me now and that I couldn’t say anything that would make them go away.

He stood and I expected him to leave. “I need to tell you something else, Callie.” He pulled me up and placed his hands on my shoulders. “I just ran that reporter out of here.”

“Eliot?” I looked around. “He was here?”

Gage nodded. “Spying on you. Nearly scared the kid out of his loafers when I grabbed him by the collar.”

Argh. “What did he want? Did he tell you?”

Gage paused, his face sober. “That’s just it. He wanted to know your reaction to the news that Tim Kitteridge has been hospitalized.”

A gasp flew out and my hands found my chest. “No. I’ve got to go call June. She must be beside herself.”

I turned and Gage caught me by the elbow. “You and she are close, then?”

I shielded my eyes from the sunlight dripping through the canopy of pine. My voice broke. “She’s become a dear friend. I really need to go check on her . . . and the camp’s going through something difficult right now. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go—”

He slid his hand from my elbow to my hand. “There’s more, Callie.”

“Is he . . . is Tim going to make it?”

“That I don’t know, but I think I may have made things harder for you.”

A spike of tension shot through my shoulder. “How so?”

“I questioned the kid about why he’s been following you, even suggesting that he may know something about the threatening letters you have received.”

“And did he? Has he been the one leaving them?”

“No, but he said something about noticing Tim Kitteridge hanging around your place and he put two and two together.”

“Tim? At my home? I don’t remember . . .” My voice faded. June had spoken often about Tim’s agitated state and how he didn’t really seem to understand how quickly he was about to lose his property. “Oh, no. It was probably him. Poor Tim’s confused, the dementia makes him think that I’m somehow after them.”

“This is my fault. I’m sorry, Callie, but the community may be after you once they read about his hospitalization in the paper. That reporter’s going to write about those letters, solidifying the accusation that you were pressuring the Kitteridges.”

The realization crashed into my mind. Gage was right. This would not look good and any chance of SOS regaining ground might be lost. I peeked into his eyes again, heavy with concern, and reached up to touch his face. “He would have found out eventually—the letters became public record when I reported them to the police. I don’t blame you.”

He captured my hand and held it there against his face. “If I could fix this for you, Callie, I would. You know that, don’t you?”

Words caught in my throat as I nodded. Somehow, I knew he would. If he could.

GAGE

HE HAD MADE THINGS worse for Callie. It didn’t matter now that he knew Redmond had nothing to do with the threats made against her. The fact remained that Gage had helped point the way toward a story that just might drive the final nail into the SOS coffin.

He gripped the steering wheel while driving slowly down the winding hill from camp, ignoring the buzz of his phone. He knew it was Rick calling because he’d attached a special ring tone to the man’s calls to warn himself. The pit of his gut felt hollow. What would it be like to draw up a “normal” project for people who found as much joy in the creative process as he did?

His boss at his last firm was crazy, had him making all kinds of changes after the permitting process had been completed. Not uncommon in the building world, but in this case Gage was asked to make dangerous, structural alterations in the plans just to save a few bucks—and that brought out the fighter in him.

His cockiness had landed that assignment in the first place, his willingness to hopscotch over anyone to succeed, but when he sat back and considered the young children who would live in the eleven thousand square foot building—he wouldn’t do it. It was unconscionable. And just like that, he had been cut loose.

His phone buzzed again, this time from a text.
The guy’s getting smarter, if that’s possible.
Gage pulled to the road side and checked his phone:

Need plans to town council. Stat. Showdown at the OK Corral blowing in.

Rick. The guy never met a drama he didn’t like. Gage glanced at the construction documents on his passenger seat. They’d be dropped off in town this afternoon, and if all goes as expected, given rubber stamp approval.

His phone buzzed again and Gage sighed. What now? He straightened, realizing this note was from Suz:

At the RAG. Big powwow going on behind me. Reporter Suz at your service.

He crinkled his mouth into a tight smile and replied:

Explain yourself.

Suz: Realtor Rick seated behind me w/Redmond & some guy named Henry. Heated conv. They don’t recognize me. (Jer’s w/me).

Must be the reason Rick got on him about the plans. How would it look if he were to show up at the RAG right now? Gage sighed and glanced to the sea before texting his sister again:

Anything I need to know about?

Suz: Redmond’s worried about Tim K being in hospital. Wants Henry to hurry up. Henry says R keeps jumping the gun.

Gage wracked his brain but no recollection of Henry resided there.

What’s Henry’s role in project?

Suz: He’s buying it from Mr. & Mrs. K, it sounds like. I think Rick’s working deal for Henry to sell property to Redmond.

Gage’s thumbs could not move quickly enough.

Anything else? I’ll wait.

A breeze had kicked up, rustling through the pines. Drying needles slid across the hood of his truck.

Suz: There’s some deadline. Next week. If Ks don’t come up with loan payment . . .

He sat up. Loan payment? C’mon Suz, what else you got for me? He waited, tensing.

Suz: Loan payment is on their house. If can’t come up w/it, they have to sell land to Henry. Sounds like he will sell it to Redmond right away.

Gage groaned, the sound startling in the confines of his truck. “I knew it.” He’d seen this type of thing before. This guy Henry must be a type of investor who got the Kitteridges into a bind with some kind of loan. They can’t pay, so he takes over their house. It sounds like he also has the option of buying their additional land out from under them. Legal, but putrid to the senses.

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