Hideaway Cove (A Windfall Island Novel) (20 page)

“I’m not sure I can be ready that soon,” Dex said. “But I’ll give you my parents’ address and let my father know you’re going to have lunch with them.”

“Um, actually, now that I think about it, my plane and ’copter are scheduled for regular maintenance today. How about I pick you up tomorrow?”

Dex laughed. “You’re going to have to meet them sometime.”

“I think the wedding will be the perfect time for that.”

“When it’s too late to talk me out of marrying you?”

“Would they try to do that?”

Dex would have laughed even harder, Jessi decided, if he’d seen the horrified look on Maggie’s face. “We’ll talk about it when I get back,” he said.

“Not as long as I can change the subject,” Maggie muttered—after he’d hung up.

Hold turned back into his office and Maggie headed for the door. Jessi scooted after her. “Maggie, do you have a minute?”

“Not really, Jess,” she said without stopping. “I have to check out my plane and file a flight plan to Boston.”

“It’s important.”

Maggie turned back, a thin veneer of expectancy sliding over her impatience. But when Maggie’s gaze slid over her head, Jessi knew Hold was watching them. And listening.

“What’s up?” Maggie pushed.

“It’s about the, uh, thing, with the, uh, invoices.”

“I don’t know anything about invoices,” Maggie said, not even bothering to hide her exasperation now. “Handle it like you always do, Jess.” She headed for the door again, tossing over her shoulder, “Do me a favor and put the flight to Boston on the schedule.”

“Okay.” Jessi turned and sure enough, there was Hold, looking amused.

“‘The thing with the invoices’?” he said. “You could have asked me to leave the room, Jessica.”

“Not everything is about you, Holden.” Jessi returned to her desk because it put her back to him, and she sat with that back poker straight. Not that it did her any good.

Hold came over and perched next to her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, to smile. “I’m just…worried.”

“You have a lot to be worried about.”

More than he knew, Jessi thought dismally.

“We’ll all sit down and talk when Dex gets back, and figure everything out.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” He dropped a kiss on her nose and started for his office, turning back at the doorway. “Everything will be fine, sugar.”

Jessi put her head down on her desk. He wouldn’t be so sure of that if she told him about that blanket. She ought to, she thought; it was just a simple conversation.

But she knew better. He’d be angry with her. On top of Lance showing up out of the blue, Benji’s struggle to deal with Lance showing up out of the blue, the prowler at her house that might have
been
Lance, and her apparent connection to Eugenia, she couldn’t face the prospect of destroying the one part of her life that made her happy.

When Dex got back, she told herself. Even though she knew it for the evasion it was, at least it made sense. They could all decide what to do about that blanket, she and Hold, Dex and Maggie. And it was only a measly twenty-four hours—which she intended to make the most of.

Before her world turned inside out again.

George sat at his desk in his blissfully quiet office, the only sound the click of the keys on the second-hand computer he’d been forced to learn to use as he typed—laboriously—the report on Jessi’s break-in.

Eighty-some years ago some bored maid had made a very bad decision, and now he had to deal with the fallout, he thought in disgust. His peaceful little village teetered on the brink of changing in ways he couldn’t bear, let alone imagine. Million-dollar inheritance, crime of the century. Fame and fortune for one Windfaller, upheaval for the rest of them.

It was bound to get out. Every time he pondered the matter of Lance Proctor’s sudden return, George wondered if it already had. Sure, Lance had a kid here, but that had never seemed meaningful to him before. Why now? And was he the one who’d broken into Jessi’s house? Meeker had vouched for Lance, but that didn’t make the alibi airtight in George’s opinion.

And then there was Paige. Again, she had a plausible reason for coming back to Windfall—

The door opened, and in Paige walked, looking like a dream and smelling like heaven.

But George had learned his lesson where she was concerned. He’d never been one to let a mystery go unsolved, though. He might be slow and thorough in how he went about it, but he got his answers.

She smiled and propped a hand on her hip to showcase the curves she’d covered with a siren red dress, beneath a coat of the same color.

George kept his eyes on her face, nearly smiled over the irritation that marred her perfect features when he said evenly, “You saved me a trip.”

“Oh?”

“Jessi’s house was broken into yesterday.”

“What?”

And now he saw genuine surprise, real concern.

“Is she all right? Benji— Oh.” She breathed out, then in again. “You think I broke into Jessi’s house?”

“Not really, but I have to cover my bases. And you’ve always been nosy.”

She laughed. “Fair enough. Suppose you tell me what I expected to find? I mean, you don’t think I was there to steal her grocery money, right?”

George took in the expensive coat and dress, and even he knew those shoes with the red bottoms came dear. “No, I don’t think you were after her odds and ends. I still need to know where you were yesterday between noon and five p.m.”

“Lunch at the Horizon,” she said with supreme indifference, “followed by a nice, long roam around the village. I caught up with Peter Carelli and his wife, and Jed and Martha. They’re doing Adam and Eve,” she added, referring to the owners of the island’s only fuel station. Martha liked to role play, with a preference for tragic couples in history. Jed went along with her for, well, obvious reasons.

“I spent an hour in the Clipper Snip,” she continued, “but I’m sure you can find a window of opportunity for me to have sneaked around in Jessi’s house. You won’t even have to try that hard.”

“I’m just doing my job, Paige.”

“Sure, and I just got back to the island, so that makes me an instant suspect. Because none of these old reprobates around here would break the law.”

George sat back, grinned.

Paige smiled as she came over to rest a hip on the edge of his desk. “Your turn, Barney Fife. What’s going on?”

“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Damn it, George.” Paige straightened, both hands going to her hips. “I know a secret when I stumble across one, and nobody will tell me what it is.”

George sat forward abruptly. “You’re awfully curious. Maybe I should rethink your innocence.”

“You have a lot of company.” Paige exhaled slowly, and her gaze shifted away from his.

That made him feel guilty as hell, even if he hadn’t intended to remind her of her troubles. “Paige, I…You know I don’t believe you—”

“Made a sex tape with my married director, then leaked it so it’s all over the Internet?” she asked when he couldn’t seem to find the right words. “I know, George. I’m a little oversensitive at the moment.”

He waved off her apology. “That kind of thing comes with the territory, though, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. I expect people to be interested, and yes, it works to my benefit. I court the attention when there’s a reason. A movie coming out, usually. It’s just that…” She spread her hands, at a loss.

“There should be a line.”

“There is a line. People don’t always respect it.”

Neither had they, back when they’d both been young and hormonally stupid. But George let it go. “If you want to know what’s going on,” he said, “I suggest you talk to Maggie.”

Paige turned back at the doorway. “You know she won’t tell me.”

“She’s not really angry, Paige.”

“Then she’s doing a hell of an acting job.”

“Maybe you ought to start by talking about the past before you tackle the present.”

She belted her coat and pulled open the door. “I’ll think about it.”

George simply stared after her for a second, then picked up the phone.

“Hello,” Rose Stanhope said.

“Hi, Rose.”

“George.” Her voice softened the way it did when they talked to one another. The way he loved.

As always, because this long-distance contact never seemed to be enough, he built a picture of her in his mind—a cool, petite blonde, beautifully fine-boned and willowy. They were of an age; if she’d lived on Windfall, or he’d lived in Boston, they might have been in school together.

And she’d still have been miles out of his league, George admitted. If his upper lip hadn’t sweat, if his pulse hadn’t spiked, if he hadn’t longed so deeply every time he heard her voice, he might have been able to think of her as a colleague. But even as he filled her in on the events since the last time they’d spoken, even as he kept the account concise and unemotional, he wiped his upper lip, breathed deeply to calm his racing heart, and reminded himself that even if she’d been sitting in the same room, she’d still be miles out of his league.

“You know Paige Walker didn’t enter that young woman’s house, George.”

“No, she didn’t. Trouble is, my only other suspect has an ironclad alibi.”

“So, we’re in the same position we were in just a few weeks ago,” Rose concluded. “Someone on Windfall Island has been hired to find Eugenia’s descendant, and you don’t know who that someone is.”

“Any more than you know which one of your relatives is out to kill that descendant.”

“You’re right, George, and I’m sorry. If anyone understands your predicament, it should be me.”

Predicament was the right word for it, too, George thought. Rose was working to find out which one of the Stanhopes was actively trying to murder anyone even suspected of being Eugenia’s descendant; George worked to protect them.

“I only have a handful of people to worry about,” Rose said. “You have a whole island’s worth.”

“Great, I win the prize.” George ran a hand back through his hair, really wishing the place was big enough for him to pace. Not that being on his feet would result in a brainstorm. He spent a lot of time upright every day, and his brain remained frustratingly blank where this mystery was concerned.

“Maybe we should talk to Keegan, let him know who he can trust.”

“Sure, that would rule you out,” George said, “but I don’t like outing you. It could make you the next target.”

She sighed. “I know someone is trying to remove any possible descendants of Eugenia’s, and I understand that it could only be a member of my own family, but it’s hard to face.”

“I know how you feel.” Windfallers were his family, George thought, all of them. And he had to face the fact that one of his kin might be thinking of murder. He glanced toward the single jail cell at the far end of the room, remembering Mort. George already knew how that kind of betrayal felt.

S
he brought the blanket with her.

Just as they’d arranged the day before, Maggie left first thing in the morning to pick up Dex in Boston. Jessi hadn’t slept the entire night because she knew her time was up. So she’d brought the blanket with her.

Of course, she’d put it safely out of sight in her trunk while Hold was in the shower.

But there’d be no backing out this time, Jessi told herself, no finding reasons to keep the secret. She’d decided to spring it on them all at once: Maggie, Dex, and Hold. Just get it over with in one fell swoop.

They’d be angry, especially Hold, but she wouldn’t let that stop her, either.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Lot on my mind,” she said, her voice as quiet as Hold’s had been.

She pulled the Explorer up in front of the school, and Benji jumped out almost before she stopped. It was all the proof she needed to tell her everything was all right with him, at least at school.

One worry down, she thought as she opened the window. “Don’t I at least get a good-bye?”

He shot up a hand, yelled, “Bye, Mom,” without losing stride. But just as she started to roll the window up, he stopped, turned back, and gave her an angelic smile. Then Maisie Cutshaw’s face suddenly peered in at her.

“Hi, there,” she said.

Jessi jumped about a mile and reared back until she was all but pressed against Hold. Which Maisie found extremely amusing, if her ear-to-ear grin was anything to go by.

Maisie’s eyes shifted to the passenger seat and lit up. “Well, now, good morning, Hold.”

“Ma’am,” Hold said with a tip of a nonexistent hat.

Maisie sighed. “It’s so nice to have a gentleman among us.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, but we’re in a bit of a rush. Ought to be on our way.”

“’Course,” Maisie plowed on, glancing at Jessi, “I hope he’s not always a gentleman. Seeing as he’s not staying at the Horizon anymore.”

“Uh…” Jessi said, completely at a loss.

“I’m sure, in light of recent events,” Hold drawled, “a lady like yourself would understand my concern over the safety of a woman and child living alone.”

“Of course,” Maisie said, instantly contrite. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened at your place, Jessi. It must be terrible, losing your sense of security.”

“Yes, but I’m sure it was nothing.”

“We should be going,” Hold said. “Don’t want to be late.”

But Maisie had a death grip on the door frame, and while thoughts of stomping on the gas pedal and dragging her along beside the car held an amusing cartoonlike quality, in reality it probably wasn’t a good idea.

“Well,” Maisie continued, not finished confirming the latest gossip, “I hear Dex is coming home today.”

“How—” Jessi shook her head, fondly, and wondered why it surprised her how quickly news traveled on Windfall. “Maggie must have told Jed Morgenstern when she arranged for the fuel delivery yesterday.”

“And Martha told everyone else,” Maisie said cheerfully. “But did I hear right that you’re leaving us, Hold?”

“Just for a little while, Ma’am,” he said matter-of-factly, before Jessi could even whip around.

And when she met his gaze, he stared calmly back. “We really have to be on our way.”

Breathless, speechless, numb, Jessi rolled up the window on whatever Maisie tried to say next, put the car in gear, and pulled away.

“I was going to tell you after we dropped Benji off, but…”

But
, she thought, and her aching heart wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. But he’d had all day yesterday, all evening, to tell her. “That’s why you went into town early with Maggie yesterday. To pack.”

He sighed, all the confirmation she needed. “I have other commitments, Jessica. Family commitments.”

“All right,” she said. And left it at that.

So did Hold. That was the part that hurt. Bad enough he hadn’t told her he was going away, but he so clearly didn’t want to share anything about his life—his life away from Windfall.

She’d be damned if she asked a single question. She might feel like winter had settled into her bones, frozen her solid except for the tears burning behind her eyes. But it was pride that held her tongue, and self-respect that kept her on an even keel.

Hold hadn’t made her any promises; in fact, he’d been careful not to. A day at a time, he’d told her, right from the start. Hell, she thought wearily, she couldn’t even blame him for the pain she felt now.

He’d all but warned her not to fall in love with him.

They passed the last of the village homes, and Jessi sped up, taking the curves along the shore at her normal safe speed. The ride to the office took fifteen minutes; it felt like forever, closed in with Hold only inches away. Inches that felt like miles.

The minute she walked into the office, she heard Maggie and Dex’s voices. She dumped her coat and purse at her desk and rushed back to the little office, walking straight into Dex’s arms to give him a hard hug.

He hugged back, a nice, strong, comforting squeeze. The brother she’d never had, she thought, before he held her out at arm’s length. His eyes searched her face, eyes that knew her too well.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said, putting as much lightness into her voice as she could manage with her heart feeling like a lead weight in her chest. “Now maybe Maggie will stop moping around.”

“You moped?” Dex’s smile spread as he turned to Maggie.

“There was a moment,” she said with her trademark one-shouldered shrug. “Then I got over it.” But her eyes and her smile were soft.

Dex ran a hand down her arm, then gave her fingers a quick squeeze. His tone was all business. “I’m sure you’re wondering what happened in Boston,” he said as he turned to include everyone in the conversation. “I’m sorry to tell you it was precious little.

“I know that Rose Stanhope instructed Alec to hire me. He wasn’t breaking privilege to tell me that much. But the decision came from the family as a whole.”

“So we can’t rule out Rose as the Stanhope trying to kill off Eugenia’s descendants,” Maggie observed.

“We can’t rule out any of them,” Dex said, sounding weary, “and they know I’m aware that one of them is trying to take out any possible heirs.” Again, he reached out, touched Maggie, as if to reassure himself.

“Not even one of them tried to convince you they’re innocent?” she asked him.

Dex shook his head. “They’ve closed ranks. My take is they’re waiting to see what happens.”

“And if the heir is killed?” Jessi asked. “Even the innocent benefit.”

“Doing nothing doesn’t make them innocent.” Dex scrubbed a hand over his face, back through his hair. “But it tied my hands pretty effectively. So, when I heard what happened at your place, Jessi, I figured it was time to stop twiddling my thumbs and get back here. There’s been no change? Lance’s alibi is still standing?”

“I haven’t talked to George, but as far as I know Lance is still in the clear.”

“It would make this whole thing easier if we could pin it on him,” Dex said. “Being on the island right at this particular time, for starters.”

“Yeah,” Jessi murmured, “it would answer a question or two.” And maybe break Benji’s heart. “But he has an airtight alibi.”

“Paige doesn’t,” Maggie put in. “Not that we know of, anyway.”

“Paige?” Jessi laughed. “Seriously, Maggie? She’s dying to know what we’re up to, but do you really think she’d break into my house?” Maggie sent her a withering stare.

Jessi responded with a bland expression, then smiled when Maggie rolled her eyes. “Fine. It wasn’t Paige.”

“Paige may be harmless, but someone on this island isn’t.” Hold spoke for the first time since they’d arrived, and cut straight to the heart of the matter. “There’s only one direction to go from here.”

A moment of humming silence passed before Jessi made Hold’s point. Although it weighed on each and every one of them, she had the most at stake. “We have to continue working on the genealogy. Hold has ruled out all the families that moved away. It’s time to consider the rest of us. I think I can help with that.”

Jessi took a deep breath as three pairs of eyes cut to her, watching with varying levels of curiosity. None of them knew what was about to hit them. She still didn’t quite believe it, and she’d had a week to come to terms with her discovery.

“My great grandparents, Joe and Claire Duncan,” she began, “lived across the street from your family, Maggie, in the house I live in now.”

“And my Uncle Emmett lives across from you now.”

Jessi nodded. “The Duncans had a daughter named Elizabeth. My grandmother. Her birthday was December 17, 1930. Eugenia’s birth date was February 10, 1931, which makes her not quite two months younger than my grandmother. Unless she was my grandmother.”

Silence hummed again—ripe, this time, with shock. Not surprising as she’d shied away from any connection to Eugenia. Just the idea of it still scared her to death, knowing she was putting Benji in danger. But she couldn’t keep him safe by lying to herself. The truth would come out, no matter how hard she tried to prevent it.

She slid her gaze to Hold and found his eyes on her face, his expression…unexpressive. While Dex and Maggie gazed at her with concern, in Hold’s eyes she saw doubt.

“It makes sense,” Dex finally said. “You and Maggie are about the same age.”

Hold nodded. “So the preceding generations of your family would be contemporary to one another as well, in all likelihood. But it sounds like your evidence is anecdotal? That means—”

“I know what it means.” She took another breath, a calming one this time rather than a bracing one. “The dates are recorded in my family Bible.”

Silence.

“I can produce it if you want proof,” she said. It didn’t erase the doubt in Hold’s eyes, and that hit her like a blow. “But I could have altered the dates.”

Maggie took a step forward, just one before Dex put a hand on her arm.

Hold let the silence draw out.

And the fist around her heart squeezed even tighter.

Jessi wanted him to simply take her word, even when it went against all logic. Especially then. What woman wouldn’t want that kind of unquestioning trust, absolute faith, from the man she loved?

What baffled her was why he held back. He’d been hurt by a woman, she’d figured that much out. She couldn’t know the details; he hadn’t given them to her. But it must have been a deep wound for him to close himself off so tightly, especially when she’d given him no reason not to trust her.

Until now
, she reminded herself, until she stood in front of him and admitted she’d lied to him. Yes, she wanted his trust, but she’d just handed him a hell of a reason not to give it.

She rubbed a hand over her chest, tried to soothe the pain there even as she understood she’d brought it on herself.

And that was just bullshit
. She’d learned a long time ago not to blame herself for events that were out of her control. Lance had taught her that. She might be perfectly willing to admit what she’d done wrong, but she’d be damned if she stood there and blamed herself for whatever was going on in Hold’s mind.

“You want proof,” she said to him, proud she’d gotten the words so evenly past a throat tight with unshed tears.

“If he does, he’s an idiot,” Maggie observed hotly.

“No, I’m not,” Hold said. But he wasn’t meeting her eyes anymore.

Jessi turned on her heel and stalked out, too hurt, too angry to look at him a moment longer. Or so she’d thought.

When Hold stopped her in the lobby, she rounded on him, poked a finger at him. “You think I’m after the money.

“It’s a short trip from wishful thinking to reality, especially with the family Bible right there within easy reach, all the documentation in my hands.” After all, hadn’t she said it more than once, joked about being rich?

“No, Jess, I—” Hold ran a hand back though his hair, looked away. “Knee-jerk reaction.”

“It was
all
jerk,” Maggie called out from the little office, not even pretending she couldn’t overhear.

Well, let them listen
, Jessi thought. Then she wouldn’t have anything to explain later. She wouldn’t have to talk about it again. Because talking about it now was almost killing her.

“It’s my job to ask those kinds of questions,” Hold said.

“Maybe that’s true, but it was personal, too.”

Again, he didn’t deny it.

“This is what you were waiting for, right?” she said, the anger draining away to leave the hurt behind. “You pushed and prodded until I told you all about my life, until I let you in completely. And yet you still don’t understand me.”

“I tried to give you romance—”

“That was just a dance, Hold, a wonderful dance while it lasted. But romance isn’t whirling around a room in a man’s arms. Romance isn’t even a courtship that ends with vows given, rings exchanged. Romance is waking up with the same person, day after day, year after year. It’s more than affection, even more than love. It’s trust, faith, believing the best about someone even when you think the worst. Especially when you think the worst.”

“You know how I feel about you, Jessica.”

“How could I when you don’t even know yourself?”

When he didn’t answer, she stepped up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “It’s all right, I understand. And I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, I do.” She went out to the car and retrieved the blanket, still wrapped in its faded paper.

When she came back, she whisked by Hold and straight into the little office, dropping it on top of his research. Then she stood back, arms wrapped around herself, stomach in knots, sick in her heart.

Maggie stepped forward and pushed the flowered paper away. They all stared dumbfounded at the blanket, with its embroidered initials, until Maggie said, “Shit, Jessi.”

“I found it in my attic.”

“The day we were cleaning it.” Hold lifted his eyes—unapologetic eyes—to hers. But then she’d known what his reaction would be. “I thought you wanted to stop because of your mother, because it was still too early.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why didn’t you tell me?”