Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore (69 page)

Her sophistication from the previous evening was gone, though not the sexy allure, peeking out from a tight T-shirt beneath worn overalls. They were loose enough to make a man want to slip his hand down inside to explore... Zack shut his eyes and counted to ten.

The night before, he'd emailed instructions to the maintenance supervisor to have three men on the early shift ready to go with him on a special job. When he'd met them at the maintenance yard, he explained that they were driving over to help their neighbor who'd been having trouble with vandalism. They hadn't asked questions, just cheerfully followed. They were fast, too. Some of the repairs were temporary, such as the duct tape over the tear in the canopy. But the stand was in functioning condition in less than an hour. Jamie, of course, tried to pay them, which they refused, though they left with baskets of fruit she'd pressed on them.

When everything was put back in order, Brad continued his walk. Jamie rounded on Zack once they were alone. “I did
not
need you to rescue me.”

“Hey, it made a good show for everyone. And it got you up and ready for business, so why complain?”

“You just don't get it, do you?”

“No, I don't. But never mind that now. Do you think your security cameras caught anything?”

“I did a fast review and it looked like an identifiable face was recorded. Curt will follow up.”

“Did you recognize him?”

Jamie gave a quick shake of her head. “No. I don't even know if he's local or not, and I can't imagine why he'd care about the stand. He wasn't a teenager. I'm lucky he didn't do more inside the trailer, or he might have spotted the cameras.”

“How did you sleep last night?” he asked.

“Like a log,” she claimed, though he wondered if she was telling the truth. She'd played an extremely alluring game the entire evening at the Grotto, stirring him up enough that it had taken a long cold shower to settle down. It was hard to believe she'd escaped unscathed.

Tempted as he was to test his theory, Zack decided it was wisest to leave her alone—she'd had a tough enough start to the day. Besides, a customer was driving down the road, the woman waving at Jamie, so he kissed her cheek again.

Her voice followed him to the SUV. “The show is for Brad and Kim,
not
the general public.”

* * *

A
T
11:00
A
.
M
.,
Jamie assessed the stock she had left. In three hours she was supposed to meet Kim Wheeler. She'd either have to leave and let people put money in a box until she came back, or she could close early and pack it all up. She hadn't promised to hold anything, so it could go either way.

Annoyed as she was with Zack, there was no denying that the help from his men had made things easier. But she would reduce the charges on her invoice to Mar Vista for the day, to pay for the work the employees had done.

At one she decided to load her leftovers. Word had spread about the vandalism and many curious or concerned folks had come by to check things out and then to shop, so she didn't have much left anyhow. She drove home to brew coffee and pull cookies from the freezer to serve when Kim got there.

With lawyerlike punctuality, Kim arrived right on time and Jamie welcomed her into the house. “I've got coffee on if you want a cup,” she said.

“Sounds great.”

They sat in the living room, drinking coffee and discussing the vandalism at the stand. After a while, Kim examined the trays of jewelry Jamie had laid out on the dining-room table.

“These are really good,” Kim enthused. She pointed at one tray. “Especially that group.”

“Those are the ones I've made for the art gallery. The rest of the pieces are for regular tourist shops. I've decided to make the higher-end ones in limited groups and number them.”

“Like an artist has numbered prints,” Kim said. “That's a good idea. You know...maybe I shouldn't say this, but these would fit in with the merchandise in the shops at Mar Vista. I could show a few pieces to Zack and—”

“No,” Jamie cut in swiftly, then winced. After all, she and Zack were trying to make Kim and Brad believe they were a couple. And considering the passionate night they'd spent together, it wasn't entirely a lie, even if it also wasn't the truth. “I wouldn't want to presume, you know, on the fact...that we...see each other,” she said, tempering her tone.

“Don't worry. Zack won't let that influence him.”

“Even so, I wouldn't be comfortable. Things are tricky at this...stage.”

“Brad said you wouldn't like it, but I wanted to ask.”

Jamie tried to think if she could say something about Brad that might help push the two of them together, and she laughed to herself. The matchmaking bug was hard to escape.

It truly wasn't her business. Besides, she couldn't claim any expertise in the romance department.

“Any plans for dinner?” she asked instead. “I could fix a salad or something.”

“Oh, thanks,” Kim answered, suddenly seeming flustered...a very
un-
lawyerlike condition. “But Brad and I are going into town. There's an Italian place we want to try.”

“You must mean Martine's. They're great,” Jamie said, deciding that Brad and Kim needed no one to push them together; from now on they could figure it out for themselves.

It was just as well that Kim hadn't stayed. Shortly after she left, Curt knocked on the door. He was delighted to get the leftover coffee and polish off the rest of the cookies.

“I went by the fruit stand first,” he said. “It's amazing. How did you get things going again after the mess I saw in those pictures?”

“Zack Denning insisted on having a group of his men clean up and do repairs,” she said, hating to admit it.

“Zack Denning?” Curt asked.

“Yeah.”

“Zack Denning of Denning Enterprises and the Mar Vista Resort?”

“That's the one.”

“Wow. I never saw that one coming. Do you think he could be sending a vandal out by night, and cleaning up by day?”

“When did you get so cynical, Curt?” Though Jamie had teased him about getting elected sheriff, it was something he'd talked of doing when he was a boy—with visions of being the Grand Marshal in the Founder's Day parade and riding a white...squad car.

“Working in law enforcement doesn't leave you innocent.”

“Look, I'm pretty sure Mar Vista isn't involved, but I can't figure out who
could
be doing it.”

“That I can answer. We've got the jerk under arrest. His name is Gus Hewitt. He's a local guy, never involved in anything major, but pretty seedy.” Curt's voice got low and gruff. “He was hired and dunno why and can't finger his boss cuz he didn't meet the dude, just got the dough in the mail, see?”

Jamie grinned at the impersonation. “Sounds as if Gus has seen too many old crime shows.”

“No question. I'm also sure he knows more than he's revealing and actually
has
met his boss. I suspect he's hoping to get more cash to stay quiet. Do you have any ideas? You say you don't think the Denning fellow could be involved, but are you certain? The man was plenty pissed off about the fruit stand.”

Jamie shook her head. People could be incredibly two-faced, few people knew that better than she did, but her instincts said neither Zack nor his people were responsible.

“No. This isn't because of the resort. It's...” An unsavory suspicion suddenly occurred to her. Could it be Tim? Hiring someone to do his dirty work sounded exactly like her ex-husband's style. He was basically a coward at heart, tearing other people down to make himself feel more powerful.

“Don't keep it to yourself if you've thought of something,” Curt prompted. “All possibilities should be considered.”

“It's just that my ex-husband... Well, he didn't exactly take the end of our marriage as the final word.”

Curt pulled out a notebook and pen. “What has he done?”

“Nothing in person, at least nothing I know of. But he kept calling last winter, even after I changed my number. And he asked our mutual friends to talk about him. I thought he'd given up, only now he's started phoning my parents, putting on a concerned act about my welfare out here.”

“Is he the kind of man who would do something like this?”

“Yes.”

He looked at her sympathetically. “I'm sorry, Jamie. Sounds as if it was a rough breakup.”

Jamie hesitated, hating to admit how bad her judgment had been in picking a husband, and decided there wasn't any point in keeping her mouth shut. If Tim
was
behind the vandalism, everyone would wonder how she'd gotten together with him anyway.

“The most galling part is that I didn't realize before we were married what he was really like,” she said slowly. “It was only later, gradually, that his true character peeked out.”

“Some people put on a good show. When I started out as a deputy, I once let a guy go because he said he had to get his wife to the hospital because she was having a baby. It turned out she had fifteen pounds of cocaine shoved beneath her shirt.”

“How'd you find out that?”

Curt grinned. “Well, because I'm a lunkhead and believed him, I decided to escort them to the hospital. When the car turned the opposite direction, I got suspicious.”

It was good to laugh and release some tension. Curt poured himself another cup of coffee, loading it with cream and sugar.

“What's your ex-husband's full name?” he asked.

“Timothy Wendell Gardiner.”

Curt wrote it in his notebook and tapped the paper with his pen. “If your ex is responsible, he couldn't have simply picked Gus Hewitt's name out of the phone book. He would have to have known Gus was the lowlife type.”

At the implication, Jamie wrapped her arms around her stomach. It was true. If Tim was the one behind all this, he must have come to Warrington, perhaps numerous times, watching and planning. Those times he'd called her, he could have been parked outside the house or down the driveway.

“You're right,” she agreed. “He must have been here long enough, or often enough, to figure out who to hire.”

“That means I can show a picture around and see who might recognize him. It might even scare Gus into turning evidence against his boss. He'll be shopping for a deal since we can try him on several different counts—the D.A. wants to throw everything possible at him, including stalking charges. With his record, the judge won't be lenient. Do you have any pictures I can use? Or did you cut them all up into tiny pieces after the divorce, the way my sister did with photos of her ex?”

Jamie chuckled ruefully. “I considered it, but some of those pictures have people I care about in them.”

She fetched her photo album and they went through it until Curt spotted a couple he thought would be good to use.

“We'll get right on it,” he said, tucking the photos in his pocket.

As he went to his car, she noted that the late-afternoon sun was now hidden behind a deep fog bank. A cheerful fire would be nice. With Gus Hewitt in jail she shouldn't find any vandalism tomorrow, and she might have a chance to start sorting out the emotional garbage that had collected. But not tonight. This evening she planned to sit in front of the hearth and try to forget everything for a while.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I
T
WAS
LATE
that afternoon when Zack stopped by the front desk to greet some arriving guests, and stayed to chat with the clerk, Michael Brookings.

“You sound British,” Zack noted after a while. “How did you end up in Warrington?”

“I came as a tourist and met a girl. We've been married five years last April.”

“Did you come from a small town in Britain?”

“No, quite the opposite—London. But I enjoy living in Warrington, even if it is tiny by comparison.”

“I'm glad you decided to make it your home.”

“Thank you.”

Zack continued toward the Sunfish Grotto, thinking the conversation had flowed better than most he'd had in recent months with employees. He'd been trying to get to know them, but it wasn't easy with such a large number, and they often appeared reserved when they were around him.

Strangely, things seemed to be running more smoothly at Mar Vista. The vague uneasiness he'd had over operations was starting to diminish; things were getting better. Was it because he was handling things differently? He'd have a chat with Trudy on Monday to get her impressions. She was still thinking about the promotion he'd offered...and he genuinely hoped she would take it. He was three kinds of an idiot not to have suggested it earlier. And somehow the way he felt about her pregnancy had also changed; in the beginning, he had worried about the impact on the resort—now he was truly glad for the Lopezes. He'd even suggested the possibility of an employee day-care program, which had put a pleased gleam in Trudy's eyes.

Zack suspected a day-care center was the sort of thing Jamie would applaud, probably with an it's-about-time comment. And he couldn't deny that some of the shifts in his thinking may have come from his contact with her.

At the Sunfish Grotto he checked to see if they had a table available for that night in case Jamie found something she felt comfortable wearing. They did, but it would be in the overflow area, a group of tables in the banquet room. It was still elegant, and had the bonus of being on the other side of the dance floor's aquarium wall. The tables were less private, but they still had terrific atmosphere.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Denning,” the maître d' apologized. “By noon, our regular table reservations were filled from six to nine. We can't book too tightly because people enjoy lingering over their meals more than usual at the Grotto. I could bump someone if you insist.” He ended diffidently, obviously concerned that as Mar Vista's owner, Zack would be upset if denied seating.

“Absolutely not. Having people stay longer because they appreciate our atmosphere is a nice problem.”

The man beamed in return. “Very true. We're getting quite a few calls from local hotels for their guests. But we've been saving some of the private tables so Mar Vista guests have first choice.”

“Excellent. Whose idea was that?”

“One of our dishwashers, Sue Griffin.”

“Put her down for a bonus. Those are ideas we need and I'm glad you listen to everyone.”

“Thank you, Mr. Denning.”

Elation filled Zack. It wasn't his imagination; things
were
running more smoothly. What troubled him was that he didn't know all the reasons. It was a humbling lesson; owning his own resort wasn't quite the same as simply managing it for someone else.

As he was leaving the Grotto he saw Don and Nina Courtland on the way out and stopped to say hello. Don had inherited a fortune from his industrialist grandfather, and the time he didn't spend on the family's philanthropic foundation, he spent on golf. He'd fallen in love with Mar Vista's course and wanted to move his foundation's annual golf tournament to the resort. It was a major event that would bring in top golfers from around the country and raise Mar Vista's profile even higher.

“Don't you have a contract with the current home of the tournament?” Zack asked.

“It's coming up for renewal,” Don said, waving his hand. “I haven't been happy with their management for the last couple of years anyway.”

“Have your coordinator call and we'll talk.”

“Will do.”

The Courtlands' meal was delivered and Zack left them to eat. It was an incredible opportunity—he'd managed a facility on the PGA Tour and knew how much work a major tournament entailed, but it would be well worth the effort.

Better yet, the proceeds for the Courtland Foundation Tournament went to help families in crisis.

The thought reminded Zack of the conversation at dinner the night before...about how he'd become interested in building his own resort. Until Jamie had asked, it hadn't occurred to him that his mom and dad could never have afforded such a high-end resort as Mar Vista when he and Brad were kids. It was disconcerting to realize that he'd focused so much on luxury that he'd outpriced most ordinary families, even if they were splurging.

His original goal was still possible. Once things were more secure at Mar Vista, he could find land in the Warrington vicinity and build something special for people who weren't wealthy. Or maybe it wasn't necessary to wait; he didn't need investors for Mar Vista, but he could work on putting a group together for a new project.

Buoyed by the idea, he strolled back into the reception area and saw a sheriff's deputy talking with the desk clerk. He hurried to the man's side.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Not exactly, sir,” Michael said in a low voice. “The deputy showed me a picture and wanted to know if the man had been a guest. I explained he's stayed here periodically.”

“Hello, Officer. I'm Zack Denning, owner of Mar Vista.”

“Arthur Harris. Nice to meet you.” The deputy handed him the photo and Zack also recognized the man; he'd stayed several times, always keeping to himself and showing no interest in the resort's amenities.

“What's his name?”

“Timothy Gardiner,” said the officer, “though according to your registration desk, he registered as Thomas Smith.”

“Our records show he had proper identification,” the clerk asserted quickly. “He also paid cash in advance.”

Some guests walking through the lounge on their way to dinner were staring curiously at them, so Zack gestured to a door next to the reception area. “Shall we go into an office? I'd like to know what this is about.”

“Certainly.”

Seated in the small, elegant room established for private consultations, the deputy seemed uncomfortable, so Zack offered him a cup of coffee. But before he could even ask for some to be brought in, the clerk knocked and handed him a tray.

“Thank you,” Zack told him quietly and set it on the polished-wood table.

“One thing they told us at the police academy,” the deputy said. “Don't turn down a cup of coffee honestly offered.”

Zack laughed. “Good advice.” He poured two cups and sat back with his own. “Is Gardiner wanted for something? Naturally, I have a concern for the safety of my guests.”

“I understand, Mr. Denning. You see, today we caught a man who's been committing vandalism locally and—”

“The one who's been hitting Jamie Conroe's fruit stand?” Zack interrupted quickly.

“Yes, sir. I suppose you would have heard about that, but he wasn't doing it on his own initiative and we're hunting for whoever hired him.”

“Why would this Gardiner fellow care about Jamie's stand?”

“I understand that he's Ms. Conroe's ex-husband.”

Jamie's ex-husband?

A chill went through Zack. An ex-husband could make things personal.
Very
personal. It was bad enough to have someone angry about a fruit stand, but this must be a private vendetta. And, once again, Jamie hadn't called and told him a thing that was happening.

“Do you know if he's presently in the area?” Zack asked.

“There's no way of knowing for certain. Your clerk checked and he wasn't currently registered, but he could be staying elsewhere.” The deputy drained his cup of coffee. “I should be going. I'm making the rounds of hotels on the west edge of Warrington and should get to the next one.”

“Yes, of course, Officer,” Zack said. “Thank you for explaining the situation. We'll inform you immediately if Mr. Gardiner shows up at Mar Vista.”

“Thank you.”

Zack tried to appear casual as he returned to the desk and told Michael that if Timothy Gardiner checked in, he should complete the registration without making the guest suspicious, then discreetly call Sheriff Saldano.

“He's not likely to be dangerous to anyone at the resort,” Zack told him. “But we wouldn't want to take a risk in any case. I know I can rely on you and the rest of the staff to handle it appropriately.”

The clerk flashed a pleased smile. “Yes, sir.”

Zack took the back route to the employee parking area where the SUV was parked. He was heading to Jamie's house to spend the night, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

* * *

K
IM
FUSSED
AT
her hair in the mirror. She couldn't get it right. It took only a few minutes to dress professionally, but she didn't want to look like a lawyer tonight. Finally, she did a French braid and secured it with combs. The clothing seemed right—a simple blue dress with a full, graceful skirt. Nothing too fancy. The restaurant they were going to was nice, but not as high-end as the Sunfish Grotto. That suited her fine. As pleasant as it was to go someplace extravagant, everyone at Mar Vista knew who they were and it would be nice to be an anonymous couple.

She gathered her handbag in time for Brad's knock. He wore a good pair of slacks and a corduroy sports jacket. On some guys, the military haircut might appear odd, but on Brad it was just right. He seemed to approve of her appearance, as well.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice a trace husky, and Kim felt the balance of her world shift. Was it her imagination, or was that serious heat in his eyes?

“Sure. I'm not a woman who keeps a man hanging around.”

“You'd be worth waiting for.”

Pleasure flashed through Kim's veins. “Thank you.”

She took a silk shawl-type sweater from the wardrobe and handed it to him. He held it for her and she slipped her arms into the sleeve portion and wrapped the rest around herself. Brad's eyes darkened as he gazed at her.

“You're always so elegant,” he said. “That was one of the first things I noticed about you.”

“What was the second?” she asked.

“Can't say.”

“Can't...or won't?”

“You were my brother's girlfriend. Sometimes there are things you can't afford to notice, except on an intellectual basis.”

“And what did you notice on that basis?”

“That you had a sense of humor.”

“Liar.”

He laughed and offered her his arm.

* * *

J
AMIE
SAT
CURLED
in the large armchair near the fireplace, working on ideas for a new bracelet. There would be no brilliant sunset that night, just a gray evening, slowly turning into darkness. Ordinarily she enjoyed the fog; tonight it seemed oppressive. But inside, the fire crackled, pushing back the gloom, and a steaming cup of tea sat next to her, along with a bowl of popcorn. Marlin lay behind her neck, stretched along the top of the chair, his purr rumbling. Every once in a while, he roused to lick her ear and she reached up to scratch his neck.

The doorbell rang and she sighed. Tempting as it was not to answer, it could be Curt with an update. She went to the door and peeked through the security window. Zack...
oops.
She'd forgotten all about their arrangement to eat at the Clam Shell.

Jamie opened the door. “Zack, I'm so sorry. I forgot all about dinner. If you still want to do it and you don't mind waiting, I could get dressed and—”

“Why didn't you tell me the police suspect your ex-husband hired that creep to trash the fruit stand?”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Good heavens, Zack, it only came up this afternoon. Curt asked if I had any ideas and it suddenly occurred to me that Tim might be responsible.”

“Didn't you think I'd like to know?”

“I would have mentioned it the next time I saw you.”

He ran fingers through his hair in frustration. “Okay, okay. Look, you can't stay here alone.”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Your ex-husband may have paid a man to vandalize your business. This is very personal, and very dangerous. You're either coming to the resort with me or I'm staying here. Don't bother arguing.”

Resigned, Jamie waved him inside. “Didn't you bring dinner?” she asked with a feigned expression of shock. “You invited me, as I recall.”

He gave her a grim look that wasn't the least bit amused. “I was in too much of a damned hurry to get over here before it got dark.”

“Your sense of humor has certainly suffered,” she muttered. “Go sit by the fire and have popcorn for an appetizer. I'll scrounge something in the kitchen.”

She hadn't planned to fix a meal, but there was vegetable soup in the refrigerator and she could make sandwiches. It wouldn't measure up to Gordon Chen's cooking, but that was Zack's fault for showing up in the first place.

“Ready,” she called after setting the kitchen table. “Let's eat in here.”

They ate in silence, then he helped load the dishwasher. “I didn't expect such an up-to-date kitchen,” he said finally.

“Granddad had it remodeled several times. He said he would have kept it updated for Leah if she were alive, and tried to choose things she would have liked. The last time it was redone was a couple of years before he died. I—I think he wanted it to be new when he left it to me.”