A Shore Thing (8 page)

“Oh.” Jer focused on the Formica table before flashing his eyes upward again. “Hey, maybe a pirate put it there!”

Gage swallowed down his sip of coffee before choking on it. “A pirate?”

“Yeah, maybe he stole the money and then put it there to hide it and, oh no, I have his pirate money now!” Jer slapped his dimpled cheek with one hand.

He warmed a smile right out of Gage. “I don’t think you should worry, kiddo. I think pirates have special safes to keep their coins in. Besides, what pirate would leave his money right there in the open like that?”

His little face puckered as he considered this. “Then how come no one else took it ’fore you?”

Gage studied the little boy’s face. “That’s a good question. I would have to say that maybe God wanted you to have it.”

Jer plopped both arms across the table in front of him, and then laid his head across them. “Yeah, God wanted Jeremiah to have it.”

Holly appeared with two steaming plates of breakfast, just in time to delay the inevitable fidgeting that Gage expected. “Hope you boys are hungry ’cuz these plates weigh more than a fat tuna fish caught offshore.”

Jer perked at the aroma of butter melting into a pool at the base of his happy face pancake. His eyes spied the maple syrup jug in Holly’s hands. She held it over his plate. “Can I pour some on it for you?”

Jer nodded dramatically, as little boys often did, his blond hair catching wafts of air with each nod. And Gage noticed that just as he dug out his first bite from the pancake’s middle, the little boy had begun to hum.

Chapter Seven

He didn’t notice me. Late as it was, I scooted past Gage Mitchell and he didn’t see me at all. Was he all alone with that little boy?

“There you are!” Ruth stood, her eyes nearly cloaked by the wide-brimmed mesh hat she wore. “Callie, I’d like you to meet Charity, Neta, Gracie.” She turned toward the other end of the table. “And Bill.”

Not one of them looked familiar. Did they even live in this town? They all nodded and murmured their greetings. As usual, I felt like the splash of cold water on a fire. Why was that?

Ruth stood CEO-like at the head of the table. She gestured my way as I took a seat. “It was at my chance meeting with Callie that I learned that the Otter Bay property is now subject to development. We cannot have this, and we must exercise every option there is to stop this audacious move.”

I raised my hand as if needing permission to speak. “My apologies to all of you who took the time to come out here today, but I spoke to June Kitteridge by phone this week and she assured me that the property was not for sale after all.” I hoped that sounded more convincing than it felt.

Ruth’s familiar mouth quirk and the accompanying half-closed eye stared me down. “Au contraire.”

Did Ruth know something I didn’t? Or that I suspected? I tilted my head to one side. “Oh? Have you heard something different?”

She leaned forward. “My source tells me that someone recently called the city planning department to discuss procedures for applying for permits, and not just any permits, but ones specifically for the land along the coast.”

Bill looked bored. “Doesn’t prove anything, since there are still a few small empty lots ripe for building.”

Ruth grimaced at him as if he was a piece of garbage she’d just plucked from the shore. “It was for the Kitteridge property, acres and acres of land. My source confirmed this.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Your source?”

Ruth looked down her nose at me. “A neighbor who works as a secretary—that’s all I have to say on that.”

Peg, the diner’s owner, arrived with a pot of hot coffee and an order pad. Neta, Charity, and Bill all signaled they would like a cup. When she finished, she plopped the carafe onto the table and positioned her pen over the pad. “What’ll you have this morning?”

Ruth waved her off. “Nothing other than coffee. We’re having a meeting.”

Peg sighed and left without another word.

I plunked my elbows onto the table and rested on my fists. “Did they actually pull permits, Ruth?”

She hauled in a breath. “No, but now’s the time to act, not after someone has already spent millions acquiring property behind this community’s back.”

She had a point, although could I go along with this considering June’s earnest discussion with me the other day? Queasiness pulsated through my stomach. And what about Gage Mitchell? Something must be up or else this topic would not keep hanging over this town like a dark cloud.

Ruth stood stick straight, her gaze floating beyond the table to the view of beach outside the window. She exhaled slowly, allowing it to shutter through her as if the thought of losing Otter Bay had begun to weaken her. No doubt she took this as seriously as I did, but did she have to be so dramatic?

Finally she spoke. “We need a leader, someone who is passionate and driven. Someone who loves Otter Bay as we all do and who has the drive to see this hideous project laid to rest once and for all.”

Gracie, Neta, and Charity nodded continuously.

Ruth was moving in for the role, I could see it in her face. And why not? She was leadership material and had the fortitude to follow her gut and fight for what she believed in. I saw that in her when we fought the closure of the town library several years back. So what if she came off as annoying and tactless at times? We all had our crosses to bear.

Something starrier had replaced her familiar grimace, as if Ruth could see into the future. She dropped her gaze to all of us. “And the person I nominate is . . .” Her straightforward eyes caught me in their beams. “Callie.”

Me?

The women around the table nodded in agreement, and Bill tapped a forefinger on his temple and saluted me.

Ruth put a hand to her hip. “Well? Will you step up and run with this, Callie? We’ll need investigations and financing, a motto and media coverage . . .”

My head swam with the possibilities, so much that I hadn’t noticed Gage approaching our table. He strolled up without an ounce of timidity. By his congenial, open smile the others would never know why he was in Otter Bay.

Ruth, however, glared at him. I’d forgotten that Ruth had seen him before. “What’s he doing here?”

He startled, but only for a moment; his grinning eyes only slightly dimmed. Holly had apparently taken a break because she was sitting at his booth with the little boy I guessed to be Suzanna’s son—Gage’s nephew.

Gage offered Ruth his hand. “Sorry? Have we met?”

Ruth narrowed her eyes, and now both fists had found her hips. “You’re the reason we’re having this gathering today.”

His blue-green eyes connected with mine. I glanced away. Ruth ignored his hand, so Gage slowly pulled his arm back rather than have it dangle in midair. “I see. Since I’m new in town, perhaps I should take this as a compliment.”

We caught eyes again, although I tried to avoid it. I really did.

He surveyed the table, his hands resting loosely at his sides. “I’m Gage Mitchell. Just stopped by to say hello to Callie.” He paused, his smile seemingly earnest, although who knew how he managed it? “And introduce myself to all of you, of course.”

Gracie glowed as if a mythical god had come to life before her. She batted her lashes and stood, holding her white fringed shawl closed with one hand while extending the other to Gage. “How do you do?”

He held her hand. A beat longer than necessary, if you asked me. “And you are?”

Gracie blushed. “Gracie Stormworty. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mitchell.”

The others weren’t quite so accommodating and gave Gage an unenthusiastic nod. He planted his hands at his waist and released a satisfied sigh. “Well, I can see you’re all busy on a project here, so I’ll leave you alone. Nice to meet you all.” He turned to me and winked. “Thanks for being so kind to my sister yesterday, Callie. I really appreciate that.”

I opened my mouth but not a word managed to make it out.

Gracie still glowed like an ember. “He seems like such a nice man.”

Ruth’s grimace had returned. “Well, he’s
not.
Someone has hired that man to do away with the pristine land down by the otter sanctuary, and I for one won’t stand for it.” She twisted her gaze in my direction. “I hope I haven’t made a huge mistake in suggesting you lead our cause, Callie. He’s one smooth character, that one. You do realize that, I hope.”

She was right. A cringe worked its way through me as I considered how his presence had a way of knocking me off my game. He wanted to keep me from messing with his plans. Of course it was all an act. Right?

Ruth waited for my response. I had spent most of my life fighting for causes I believed in, but always as second fiddle. I’ve always been the worker bee, the volunteer justice-seeker, never the leader.

I looked from person to person, knowing this little group would need an infusion of passion if we were going to prevail.
If this fight truly existed, I would not want the Kitteridges to be harmed in any way. I began formulating a new plan. I wondered if I possessed what it would take to see such a plan through.

I glanced across the diner to Gage’s booth only to see him watching me. He had the audacity to send a wink my way. While I’ve never been at the helm of any of my causes, Gage Mitchell and his devastating idea—the paving over of the community’s sanctuary—gave me all the courage I needed.

A smile came over me. “I accept the position. Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

Ruth’s half-closed eye widened until it matched the size of the other one. “Excellent. I hope you will not sleep until you’ve put Mr. Gage Mitchell out of business.”

I glanced over her shoulder to see Gage and an adorable towheaded boy leaving the diner. It occurred to me then that this fight might have further reaching consequences than I had originally imagined.

Chapter Eight

“One scoop in the morning, and another in the evening. He’ll beg you for more, so you must stay strong, my friend.” I handed the scooper to J.D. Moondoggy had chosen the boy as his favorite neighbor, so I offered him the job of taking care of my pup during the weekends while I was working at camp. Thankfully my cottage had a doggy door already installed when I bought it. “I’ll be back on Sunday. Can you handle it?”

“Yup!” J.D. fetched Moondoggy’s leash from the hook on my wall. “C’mon, boy.”

Moondoggy pranced over, then shied away. He came forward again, slapped his two front paws on the floor, then skittered backward. It had become a regular game.

I leaned against the wall. “I was going to tell you that you didn’t need to take him out yet, but I don’t think he’d let you out of it now.”

Like a pro, J.D. dropped to his knees and grabbed Moondoggy by the collar. With a quick twist of his wrist, he hooked up the leash and stood. “That’s okay. I want to walk him before I go to school. And I’ll make sure to walk him plenty all weekend too.” J.D. gave me a grin that told me he would have taken this job for a penny.

I called out to him. “I have to run to camp now. Lock up for me too, okay?”

He nodded that he would, and I watched through my screen door as Moondoggy dragged the poor kid due west. I grinned, then began my weekly checklist, making sure I had everything necessary on hand for three days at camp: hiking boots, check; toiletries, check; Bible . . . rarely get the chance to use it, but check anyway; and overnight bag with all kinds of spares, check.

Oh, wait. My phone. Always seem to be forgetting that cellular wonder. I grabbed it making sure to unplug the charger, switched it on, and tossed it in my bag. Not more than a minute later, as I was about to pull from the driveway, a bell dinged. I had voice mail.

I cut the car engine and retrieved the messages.

“Callie! You coming soon? We’ve got a big mess here, and I need you. We’re overbooked. Help!”

Luz, from camp, sounded frantic. But didn’t I already lay out everything for her in my e-mail? Next message:

“Hello?” Pause. “Hello? This is June Kitteridge. Callie? Is that you?” A shrill alarm pierced the earpiece. “Oh, for goodness sake. That’s my hearing aid again. Wait a moment will you?” Long, long pause. “Hello? This is June again. I’m back. Callie, I’d like to talk to you about something if you wouldn’t mind, dear. Would you call me, please?”