In Shelter Cove (16 page)

Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. She knew how hard Victoria and her husband had been trying to have a baby and how much money they’d already spent on in-vitro.

“I don’t know if I should be working on the quilt,” Victoria added. “It might make it even harder if we don’t get the baby.” She paused. “You don’t know what Annie’s going to do, do you, Charlotte?”

“I can’t say, I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have even asked. Erin McCarthy and her husband are hoping to get the baby, too. Erin and I have been commiserating over our fertility problems for some time. It’s strange to think we’re now in some sort of competition.”

“Annie may keep the baby,” Charlotte said with a compassionate smile. “She hasn’t decided yet.”

Victoria nodded. “Well, that’s certainly her right. I couldn’t imagine giving up my own child.”

“Hey, I saw your brother yesterday,” Kara interrupted. “He was having an argument with some goth-looking teenager in front of Dina’s. Has he moved back to town?”

“For the time being, and that goth-looking teenager is Nick’s daughter, Megan,” Victoria said. “She just arrived, and she’s not at all happy to be here. I’m hoping to get her involved in the theater next week when we start preproduction on the Winter
Workshop. Speaking of which, we’re going to have some parts for locals, and I would love to have you audition, Kara.”

“Me?” Kara stuttered in surprise. “Why?”

“You were great back in high school.”

“My drama days are behind me.”

Victoria smiled. “You might say that now, but I’m going to keep asking,” she said as she moved away to greet another friend.

“You
were
good in high school,” Charlotte told Kara. “You should do it.”

“Oh, please. I was not good, nor do I have time to be in a play. I’m a mother.”

“Colin loved watching you act. I bet he’d support the idea, and doesn’t the Winter Workshop just run until Christmas?”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Kara said quickly. “There’s Brianna.”

“Brianna Kane?” Charlotte echoed in surprise.

“She’s working here now, and I invited her to come.”

“Really?” Kara and Jason were best friends, and as far as Charlotte knew, Jason was still enemy number one when it came to the Kanes.

“Brianna,” Kara called, motioning her over. “I’m so glad you came. You’ve met Charlotte, right?”

Brianna nodded, giving Charlotte a tentative smile. “A few times. I really appreciate your coming to Derek’s funeral.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the house afterwards. A patient went into labor.”

“
That’s fine.” Brianna cleared her throat, her gaze sweeping the room. “I don’t know if I should stay, Kara. I don’t think I belong here. I’m an employee, not one of the quilters.”

“Of course you belong here,” Fiona said, interrupting their conversation. “You’re one of us now, Brianna, and you’ll be a quilter before you know it.”

Charlotte straightened as Fiona turned her sharp gaze on her. “Where’s your mother, Charlotte? Shall we wait for her?”

“She can’t make it. She has an engagement, but I’m here to represent the family.”

“Yes, you are,” Fiona said, clearly unimpressed. “Kara, keep an eye on her. Charlotte doesn’t always care that much about what she’s doing.”

“I care,” Charlotte said defensively, although quilting wasn’t really her thing. “She should see the way I stitch up my patients,” she added to Kara when Fiona moved along to talk to someone else. “I’m damn good.”

“She should have told you to watch me,” Brianna put in. “I haven’t sewn in a long time.”

“We’ll help you. And while we’re sewing,” Kara said, “you can tell me how you and Jason are getting along.”

A guilty look flitted across Brianna’s eyes. “What’s going on with you and Jason?” Charlotte asked curiously. “Jeez, am I behind the curve on everything around here?”

“He’s just house-sitting next door to me,” Brianna said quickly. “It’s hard to avoid him, but
eventually he’ll be gone. And that will be that. End of story.”

“Somehow I don’t believe that,” Kara murmured to Charlotte as Fiona called Brianna over to meet some other women.

“I didn’t even know there
was
a story,” Charlotte said. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t like to gossip,” Kara said with smile.

Charlotte grinned back at her. “Since when?”

Kara’s smile dimmed. “Since I started worrying that one of my best friends might get his heart broken.”

“I thought Jason and Brianna hated each other.”

“I don’t think what’s between them has anything to do with hate—at least, not anymore.”

Jason stopped by Patty’s house after lunch to check on the animals. Brianna’s car was still gone, and he assumed she was at the quilt shop. As he got out of his car, he was surprised to see someone coming down Brianna’s side yard—and even more shocked when he realized it was Steve Markham. What the hell was he doing there?

“Officer Marlow,” Steve said, stopping abruptly when he saw him. His gaze flickered past him. Jason didn’t know if he was looking for a quick escape or if someone was with him.

Jason looked over his shoulder, noting the gray sedan parked at the end of the street. Markham certainly hadn’t wanted to advertise his visit.
“Mr. Markham,” he said, turning his gaze back to the gallery owner. “Are you looking for Brianna?”

“Yes, I was. She didn’t answer the door, so I went around the back. I thought she might be in the yard, but she wasn’t.”

“Do you want me to tell her you came by?”

“Why would you be talking to her?” Steve asked, his gaze sharpening.

“I’m house-sitting next door,” he replied.

“That must be . . . uncomfortable.”

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked, tired of the polite charade they were playing.

“Brianna stopped in at the gallery the other day. I didn’t have a chance to express my condolences.”

“And that’s what you wanted to do today? I don’t buy it, and I doubt Brianna will, either. You made your position against Derek quite clear.”

“As did you,” Steve said smoothly.

“Yes, I believed Derek was guilty of everything he was charged with. Nothing’s happened to change my mind.” He tilted his head. “So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

Steve hesitated for another second, then said, “I want the paintings. I went to the prison last year to speak to Derek, to tell him how much we wanted to get the art back—those pieces are important to the history of this town. But Derek wouldn’t see me. I hoped that when he was released, we might able to come to some terms. Either he could sell us the paintings for some exorbitant price, or perhaps he’d
own up to who had them, and we could make a deal with them.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m hoping that Derek’s widow can help us find the paintings.”

“If Brianna had the art, she would have handed it over a long time ago.”

“Not necessarily. Not if doing so would confirm Derek’s guilt.”

“If she believed Derek was guilty, she wouldn’t have spoken to Joe Silveira about reopening the case,” Jason pointed out.

Markham looked surprised at that piece of information. “I didn’t realize she’d done that. Well, putting all that aside, I understand that Derek’s belongings were placed in storage and recently shipped here. Perhaps she has some clue that she doesn’t realize she has.”

“I would think with your connections, you would be in a far better position to find those paintings than Brianna. She’s not tied to the art world.”

“She’s tied to Derek, and he was the last one to have them.” Steve paused. “I always knew Derek was ambitious, that he could look the other way if big money was involved, but I never thought he’d steal from us. Gloria and I introduced him to so many people. We gave him his start. We were practically family.”

“Speaking of family,” Jason said, “was it Wyatt’s idea to donate the paintings to the museum or yours?”

“
We agreed as a group. We could have sold them for a great deal of money, but it wasn’t about the cash. It was about the art.”

“I’ll let Brianna know you were here,” Jason said as Markham moved past him. “Next time, you might want to just park in front of the house, save yourself the walk.”

Markham didn’t answer, heading down the street at a brisk pace.

Jason walked down the side of Brianna’s house and into the backyard. He checked the back door. It was locked. It didn’t appear that Markham had gone inside, but it bothered him that he’d been in the backyard at all. And if Markham thought Brianna had a clue to the missing paintings, Jason couldn’t help wondering who else might think the same thing—and how far they’d go to find out.

“What are you making, Mommy?” Lucas asked, joining Brianna at the dining-room table. He climbed onto the chair next to hers, gazing down at the fabric and threads she’d picked up at the quilt shop.

“I’m not sure,” she said with a smile. “Maybe a quilt for your bed.” Nancy had given her an old sewing machine, and after selling quilting materials all day, she’d gotten the itch to make one of her own.

“I like this.” Lucas said, picking up some bright green fabric.

She’d figured he would. Green was one of his favorite colors.

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing for the other bag she’d set on the table.

“That is the Halloween costume you wanted,” she said as he pulled out the pirate costume.

“Did you get a sword, too?” Lucas asked with excitement.

“You don’t need one.”

“But all pirates have swords,” he said, dismay written all over his face.

“Well,
this
pirate carries a big plastic pumpkin to collect candy in,” she said, pulling out the pumpkin.

“That
is
big,” he agreed, happier now. “I can get a lot of candy in there.”

“Yes, you can,” she said. “So do you want to try on the costume?”

He had his shirt off before she finished the question. A few minutes later, he was decked out in his pirate gear, complete with eye patch. He ran into the living room to look in Derek’s big mirror that was still propped against the wall and immediately started striking poses.

She loved watching him caught up in his imagination. In Lucas’s world, anything was possible.

The sound of a car pulling into the adjacent driveway caught his attention, and he headed for the front door.

“I want to show Jason,” he said.

“Wait.” But he was out the door before she could stop him. When she stepped onto the porch, he was showing off his costume to Jason, who was expressing warm enthusiasm.

Jason was good with kids. He was patient, and he looked right at Lucas, listened to him, shared in his joy.

Moisture gathered in her eyes as a wave of bittersweet emotion ran through her. This moment belonged to a father and a son. Derek should have been the one coming home from work, the one her son couldn’t wait to see. But Lucas had never had a moment like this with his father. The only time he’d spent with Derek had been in the visiting room at the prison. She’d read him letters from his dad, told him stories about Derek, and put up photographs of his father all over the house, but she’d never been able to produce the actual man.

She blinked away the tears. It shouldn’t be Jason sharing this moment, but it was. And Lucas didn’t mind at all. Jason was quickly becoming a superhero in her little boy’s eyes.

Lucas turned and ran back to her. “Mommy, Jason got pizza, and he said we can have some.”

Jason took a large pizza box and a six-pack of beer out of the car, then kicked the door shut and ambled across the lawn.

“I’ve got plenty to share,” he said.

“It’s a little early. It’s not even five.”

“I skipped lunch.”

“I’m hungry, Mommy,” Lucas declared.

“You’re always hungry,” she said with a laugh, rumpling his hair with her hands. “It does smell good.”

“Then invite me in,” Jason said with a coaxing smile.

If she said no, she’d probably send her son into a
screaming fit, and for what? It was just pizza. They’d eat, and Jason would go home. Nothing else was going to happen. “All right, come in.”

“Really?” Jason asked with surprise.

“Lucas, why don’t you take off your costume and wash your hands before we eat?” she added as they entered the house.

As Lucas headed to his bedroom, Jason followed her into the kitchen and set the pizza on the counter. “Before Lucas comes back,” he said, “I wanted to let you know that I caught Steve Markham coming out of your yard earlier today.”

“Steve Markham?” she echoed in surprise. “What was he doing here?”

“He said he went around back to see if you were there, but I noticed that he parked down the street as if he didn’t want anyone to know he was at your house. I thought that was odd.”

“So do I. What did he want?”

“He wanted to know if you have any idea where the paintings are.”

“If I did, I would have produced them already.”

“He thinks you might have a clue you don’t know you have. He seemed to be aware of the fact that you’d had Derek’s things shipped here. With Derek gone, you’re the closest link to those pictures.”

Uneasiness ran through her. “Do you think Lucas and I are in some sort of danger?”

“I hope not.”

She didn’t like his answer. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

“I don’t believe Markham is a danger to you, but I am concerned that someone else might see you as their best lead.”

“But I’m not! I don’t have the paintings. I don’t know where they are. I wish I did.”

“Have you gone through all the boxes that came from Derek’s place?”

“Not yet. Some of them are still in the garage, but we both know that the paintings were never in his apartment. It was thoroughly searched before Nancy boxed anything up.”

“True. But since you stuck by Derek all these years, it might be assumed that Derek told you where the paintings are.”

“And again, if he had, I would have returned them to the museum. But Derek didn’t tell me, because he didn’t know, because he didn’t do it. And if Mr. Markham wanted to speak to me, he could have done it when I was at the gallery the other day. Unless . . . he didn’t want to say what he had to say in front of Wyatt.” She broke off as Lucas came back. “We’ll talk about this later.” She grabbed some plates out of the cupboard.