Treasure on Lilac Lane: A Jewell Cove Novel (28 page)

BOOK: Treasure on Lilac Lane: A Jewell Cove Novel
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She looked up at him hopefully.

Tenderness softened his features. “You know I will always help you. Always. Give me five minutes to run to the office.”

“Thanks, Josh,” she answered, thankful once again for her big brother.

“There’s coffee on if you want some,” he suggested, grabbing a jacket from a small closet.

“No, no coffee. Definitely no coffee.”

His gaze settled on her once more, and it seemed like they both knew what the test was going to say. It was just a matter of physical proof.

Jess looked around Josh’s place while he was gone. It was messy but not dirty, with clean dishes piled in a drying rack, a stack of laundered clothes sitting on a chair in the living room, a week’s worth of mail strewn across the counter. There were no pictures of people—and particularly none of Josh with Erin. Either he was in the middle of one serious case of denial, or he really meant it when he said he was moving on.

He came back, handed over a small box, and pointed her to the bathroom. “The sooner you know, the better,” he suggested. “Waiting sucks.”

So on a bitter Sunday afternoon she found herself peeing on a stick in her brother’s bathroom, waiting to see if the line turned to a plus or stayed a minus.

Rick might not be ready for fatherhood. They might not make it as a couple. But she knew, deep down, that he would love his child. It would be okay. It had to be.

She emerged from the bathroom holding the stick and met Josh’s gaze. “Looks like you’re going to be an uncle again,” she said quietly.

 

C
HAPTER
20

Jess paced the carpet in front of her sofa. She knew she should tell Rick right away. There had been enough secrets lately and he deserved to know. And yet she couldn’t make herself drive over to his house and throw his world into more upheaval. Maybe it would be okay to keep the news to herself—well, between herself and Josh—for a little while. She could get used to the idea and then decide how to tell him.

She sank down on the cushions. Their relationship was so new. They had said repeatedly that they were going to take their time. Oh, what a mess.

She put her hand on her still-flat tummy, the warmth of her palm soaking through the skin. Still. She’d always wanted a family. While the idea of having a baby scared her to death, there was a little bit of her that was pleased … excited, even. A little life, growing inside of her. A miracle.

Her cell rang in the stillness and she jumped before reaching for it and pressing the button to accept the call.

“Jess, it’s Abby. Are you and Rick busy this afternoon?”

“I haven’t seen him today. Why?”

“I have some news about the necklace. I was going to call Rick, but I thought that since you were the one who brought it to me…” There was a little hesitation in her voice. “Plus Rick could use some moral support.”

“Oh, God. Is it bad?”

“I’d rather talk to you both in person. But no, not really bad. Just … surprising.”

“I’ll give him a call.” Jess forgot all about her news momentarily. “Unless you hear otherwise, we’ll be over this afternoon.”

“Okay. Thanks, Jess.”

Abby clicked off, and Jess sat a moment on the sofa. Not bad but interesting. She wondered what Abby had managed to dig up. But first she had to tell Rick what she’d done. And hope that he’d be happy about it.

She toyed with the phone but figured this was better done in person.

The air was cold, the bitter kind of wind that seemed to seep through any and all clothing right to a person’s bones. Jess stood on Rick’s front step, waiting for him to open the door. When he did her heart gave a mighty thump and the first thought in her head was,
I’m having your baby
. But she kept the words unspoken and smiled instead. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

His face took on a wary expression. “That doesn’t sound good.”

She went into the kitchen and instantly smelled something delicious. Her gaze was diverted to a metal pan of still-warm brownies on the stove top.

“You made brownies?”

“I got hungry and the bakery is closed on Sundays.” He must have seen her ravenous look because he grinned and reached into the cupboard. “Would you like one?”

“Maybe a small one.”

He started to cut and she went over and put her hand over his. “Not that small…” She shifted the knife over so the brownie was nearly twice as big as he’d been going to cut. Rick laughed, a deep rumble in his chest, and Jess felt the warm flush, knowing in that moment what it was like to be in love.

They sat at the kitchen table, and Jess took a few bites. As Rick poured her a glass of cold milk, she thought of how it was good for the baby and once more the words sat on her tongue. But first things first. Nervously, she put down her fork and reached for his hand.

“Rick, I need to tell you something.”

“This sound serious.”

“It might be. Remember the necklace you gave me?”

He nodded. “Right. You were going to see if you could find out anything about it.”

“I thought I’d seen it before. And I was right. At least I’d seen one like it. So I did a little investigating.”

“And what did you discover?” His gaze sharpened and he, too, put down his fork.

She swallowed. “I saw a similar necklace in a picture at the Foster House.”

Rick’s brow furrowed. “The Foster House? Then how did my mother get ahold of it?”

“That’s what Abby and I both wondered. So I left it with her to do some digging around. I hope that’s okay. I designed Abby’s wedding necklace, remember? It was a replica of the one in her picture. That’s why it seemed so familiar.”

She paused, wondering how much to reveal. “Rick, I’m sorry. For getting someone else involved and not telling you what I’d done.”

He let out a sigh. “It’s okay. I mean … it’s not like you shared it at one of your crafty meetings or whatever. It’s just Abby. To be honest, I’ve been so busy the last few weeks I’d kind of forgotten about it.”

She nodded, relieved. “Well, Abby called me a while ago. Said she has news about it. She thought we might like to go over there together.”

“Sure, why not? It’d be nice to know where it came from.” He smiled at her. “Letting go isn’t as scary as it once was, Jess. I have you to thank for that.”

Jess smiled at him and squeezed his fingers. She was relieved he wasn’t mad at her for getting Abby involved, and doubly pleased that he wanted her by his side.

But she couldn’t escape the feeling that he wouldn’t be so content with it all if he knew she had told Abby his secret. Or if he knew she was hanging on to another surprise that was bigger still.

She was just waiting for the right time to tell him about the baby. That was all.

*   *   *

Once more Rick found himself in the foyer of Abby and Tom’s house. He’d tried to resist tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel on the way over, but a few times he’d forgotten and he’d caught Jess looking at him strangely.

“I made coffee,” Abby was saying, and she led the way down the hall to the kitchen. Jess took his hand and soon he found himself in the warmly lit kitchen, the rich scent of coffee and cookies in the air.

Tom was waiting, perched on a stool beside the butcher block. “Hey,” he said, looking up. “I think winter’s almost here by the feel of that north wind today. It could almost bring snow with it.”

The weather? Rick supposed they needed to break the ice somehow. “It’s bitter,” he acknowledged, rubbing his hands together.

“Go ahead and fix your coffee the way you like,” Abby instructed. She busied herself putting cookies on a plate and then put the plate in the middle of the butcher block. It seemed that counter space was going to be the center of operations, at least for now.

Rick sipped his coffee and munched on a shortbread cookie until he couldn’t take the false joviality anymore. There was a thread of tension underlying everything and he needed to get things out in the open.

“So, Jess tells me you found something out about the necklace,” he said, kicking off the conversation.

Abby nodded. “Yes, I did. Jess brought the necklace here, and we put it next to the picture of my great-grandmother. See for yourself.”

She retrieved the photo from a nearby counter and placed it before him, spreading out the necklace beside it. There was no question—they looked the same. Jess peered around his shoulder at the rubies spread on the wood. “It really is an extraordinary piece,” she murmured.

“Just because they look the same doesn’t mean they are the same.”

“Oh, I agree,” Abby said. “So Tom and I took a drive into Portland and had someone qualified have a look at it. It’s very old, Rick. And genuine. Dating takes it back over one hundred and fifty years.”

Rick sat heavily on a nearby stool. “One hundred and fifty? I knew it was old, but not that old.” He was staggered by the news. It made no sense that his mom would have something that old in her possession.

Abby met his gaze. “I know. I took along some of my own things I inherited with the house—notably an emerald choker and a diamond bracelet. Both were appraised and dated, and both are from around the same time period.”

He frowned. “Are you saying they belonged to the same person?”

Tom shrugged. “We can’t say that for sure. What we do know is that the dating puts all three pieces right around the time that George Foster settled here in Jewell Cove, along with my ancestor, Charles Arseneault, and Edward Jewell.”

“There’s more,” Abby said quietly. This time she took out a yellow envelope and removed photocopies of pictures, laying them out precisely.

Rick didn’t recognize any of the people beyond Edith Foster, but the woman in each picture was wearing the same necklace.

“Where did you get all of these?” He stared at the pages, some of the pictures very faded and a bit grainy.

“In the attic. I ran across some old albums when I first cleaned it out and I went looking a little closer.” She pointed at the first picture. “This is Edith, of course. Then we have this one—Amelia Foster, Elijah’s mother and wife to Robert. Then we have Martha, wife to Jed, who built this house. And finally, this one, dated 1864. George’s wife, Elizabeth. Right at the end of the Civil War. And that’s the last picture I have of the necklace. Not that we’d find pictures much earlier than that, anyway.”

Rick’s head was spinning.

“So how on earth did it happen to get into my mother’s possession?”

He stared at Abby, who turned her attention to Tom and the two of them shared a significant look.

“This is where it gets a little bit complicated,” Tom said quietly.

“What do you mean, complicated?” Rick asked, his voice low. He was dimly aware of Jess’s hand resting reassuringly on his forearm. She’d been very quiet during the exchange and he turned to her now. “Are you believing all of this?”

He could see in her eyes that she did. “I don’t think Tom and Abby would be telling you any of this if they weren’t sure.”

Which he knew. And which made his heart feel like it was sinking straight to his toes. Good God, had his mother
stolen
it? It seemed the only thing that made sense. But he couldn’t believe that. She would never have done such a thing.

“I hired someone,” Tom was saying. “To look into what might have happened.”

“Hired someone,” Rick found himself parroting. “Like a private investigator?”

Abby nodded. “Yes, a private investigator.”

Everything inside Rick went cold.

Abby and Tom shared a meaningful look. Rick’s temper bubbled. “Will you quit looking at each other that way? What aren’t you telling me?”

Jess’s voice interrupted. “Rick, calm down. I know it’s a lot to process…”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he bit out. They’d hired an investigator? Like his mother had been some sort of criminal? Did they really think she was capable of stealing?

He ignored the hurt look on Abby’s face. “Well?” he asked Tom.

Tom took out an oversized envelope. In it was a picture, and when Rick took it in his shaking fingers, his heart constricted.

It was the picture from the photo album. The one with Roberta and Graham and Rick and Marian behind them. But instead of reading “Meeting our son” on the back it read “The last clients of Foster House.”

“We found that in a box of things Marian left to Abby,” Tom said quietly. “Your birth date is June fourth, right?”

Rick’s temper roared to life. “Wait a minute,” he said, standing up. “You knew I was adopted?”

Even Jess looked surprised, but he wasn’t sure why. He turned on her. “How much did you tell them, huh? I thought this was just about the necklace?”

His accusation hit her hard and she paled. “The adoption was the only thing I could think of that connected Roberta and Marian.” She stammered. “But they already knew anyway, because Marian left the picture.”

He stared at her incredulously. “And you never thought to tell me any of this?”

“You said you didn’t want to know about your birth family,” she replied, but her voice shook.

“Oh, that’s a convenient answer, and not worthy of you, Jess. How long have you been telling yourself that lie?” God, how it hurt. After all the secrets they’d shared, that she’d keep this from him.

He turned on Abby and Tom. “And you two. Yeah, I knew I was adopted. But guess what? I never hired an investigator. I never put my name on any damn list or tried to find anything out because Roberta Sullivan is my mother.” He was starting to lose control and he gulped in a breath in a futile effort to calm down. “Jesus. It’s bad enough that you knew and didn’t say anything. But for you…” He looked at Jess. Her eyes were wide and her lips were trembling. Hurt mingled with the anger he was feeling at the moment. “For all of you to go behind my back? It wasn’t your place. It wasn’t your call.”

He hated the helpless feeling rushing through him right now. Over the last several months, he’d screwed up a lot. He knew that. But he’d made his own decisions. He’d started to call the shots in his life after so many things had been taken out of his control. Kyle. Losing his hand. His mother. Only to have the people he counted on most strip that away from him again.

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