Six Sweets Under, page 8
“What are you goofs up to?” I got up from my seat to go take a look.
A grasshopper hopped through the wire mesh of the catio, out of the cats’ reach. They hunkered down, watching the insect with intense concentration.
“That was exciting,” I said.
Both cats ignored me. They were too interested in waiting and watching in case the grasshopper came back their way.
I left them to their entertainment, intending to sit down on the patio again. Before I could get back to my chair, I spotted Oliver walking along the path on the other side of the canal. I hurried around to the front of my cottage. Justin was nowhere in sight. That meant I had at least a few minutes before he’d be back.
I jogged along the canal to the bridge that would take me in Oliver’s direction. Halfway across the bridge, I came to a stop. Oliver now stood talking with Estelle Granger. I’d hoped to talk to him alone so I could question him about Archie’s death.
As I watched, Oliver and Estelle exchanged a few words. Then Oliver nodded, said something more, and set off at a brisk walk in the direction of Venice Avenue. I continued across the bridge, but unless I wanted to run like crazy, I wasn’t going to catch up to him before he reached the crowds watching the races. The conversation I had planned was definitely one I wanted to have in private, not while surrounded by dozens of other people.
“Hello, Rebecca!” Estelle called out as she waved at me.
I smiled and stopped on the pathway as she reached me.
“How are things going?” I asked her.
“Pretty well. I was just talking with Oliver about some fundraising ideas for the hiking trail restoration project.”
“I thought you were opposed to the restoration.”
“In a way I was,” she said. “But it sounds like the hiking club has come up with a plan that addresses my environmental concerns. And I’ve since found out that the local search and rescue has had to deal with an uptick in incidents ever since the trail was washed out. People are still determined to get up to the top of Whisper Mountain. Without the trail, a lot of them are getting into trouble. All in all, I think restoring the trail is the right way to go.”
“Makes sense.” I wondered if I could still collect some helpful information before my date with Justin. “Do you happen to know Maria Vasquez?”
“Of course. I buy soap from her store. It’s all natural, you know. Made from local plants.”
“I’ve heard that,” I said. “But I haven’t been in her shop yet.”
“Oh, you should. Maybe once the races are over and there aren’t quite so many tourists. I’ve noticed she’s got a steady stream of customers going in and out all the time, as I’m sure you have at the chocolate shop. I personally like it when I can go in there and take my time browsing without getting elbowed out of the way.”
“I know what you mean, though the tourists are definitely good for business.”
“Absolutely. I’m glad Maria’s got her sister here for the summer, helping her out.”
“Carmen? I saw her this morning. Has she finished college yet?” I vaguely remembered hearing something about her attending Duke University.
“She graduated a few weeks ago. I think she’s looking for a job in Burlington. Probably a good thing. Maria needs the help in her shop right now, but those two working together for any length of time . . . maybe not the best idea.”
“They don’t get along?”
“Most of the time they do, but they’re so similar. They’ve both got fiery tempers. They burn out quickly, but they ignite in a flash, and each is quite skilled at setting off the other.”
“That’s life with siblings.” I often got exasperated with my brother, as he did with me.
“I haven’t got any firsthand experience with that myself, being an only child,” Estelle said. “How’s your mother doing? I haven’t talked to her for a while.”
“She’s enjoying life in Florida. I’m hoping she and my dad will come here for Christmas.”
My parents had moved to Florida for work opportunities more than a decade ago. They planned to move back to Larch Haven eventually, but probably not until they’d retired.
I caught sight of Justin heading our way, a wicker basket in one hand.
Estelle turned to see what I was looking at. “Ah, your young man. I won’t keep you from him.” She patted my arm. “It’s good to have you back in town, Rebecca.”
“Thank you.”
She continued on past me and over the bridge.
I smiled as Justin drew closer. “Is that a picnic basket?”
He grinned. “I guess the secret’s out now. I thought we’d have a picnic on Mad Hatter Island. How does that sound?”
“I love picnics on the island.” I hooked my arm through his as we made our way across the bridge. “What’s in the basket?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“Then let’s go.” I released his arm and hurried up to my cottage. I checked on the cats and found them lounging on their perches again, the grasshopper long gone.
Satisfied that Binx and Truffles were fine, I traded my shoes for flip-flops, locked up the cottage, and led the way to the boathouse. As I steered my whisper boat along the canal toward the lake, I firmly put my thoughts of Archie’s murder aside for the time being. With any luck, the police would find the real killer and my grandfather’s name would be cleared before I had a chance to do any real investigating.
It didn’t take us long to reach the island. I took us around to the north side, where there was a small sandy beach. In the shallows, I hopped out and pulled the whisper boat toward the shore. Justin kicked off his shoes and then climbed out to help. With the boat safely out of the water, Justin put his shoes back on and we climbed up the rocks at the top of the beach and entered the small wooded area. Aside from the occasional distant cheer from the race spectators, all I could hear were our footsteps and birds chirping in the trees.
I breathed in the familiar smell of dried pine needles and summer on the lake.
“It feels like I spent half my childhood on this island,” I told Justin as we walked through the woods. “We had picnics; pretended we were pirates; and played games like tag, hide-and-seek, and capture the flag.”
“Sounds like an idyllic childhood.”
“Probably as close as you can get.” I smiled at the memories.
When we reached the rock formation that had given the island its name, I showed Justin the easiest way to get to the top. I’d rarely ever gone up that way. Growing up, all the local kids, myself included, had always taken the more challenging—and therefore more fun—route. The easy way involved climbing a rough, steep path that wound its way around three sides of the formation. No actual climbing was required until the last five feet or so.
I climbed up to the rock’s flat top and reached down so Justin could pass up the picnic basket. That way he had both hands free to climb up himself.
When we were both safely at the top, we took a moment to enjoy the panoramic view before sitting down on the sun-warmed rock.
“I hope you’ve got some drinks in there,” I said. “I’m parched.”
Justin finally opened the picnic basket. He handed me a glass bottle of lemonade. I recognized the brand. The only place in town that sold it was Cisco’s Sandwich Shop. That got my hopes up where the food was concerned.
Justin didn’t disappoint me. He handed me a sandwich wrapped in the red-and-white-checkered paper used by Cisco’s.
“A Veggie Delight sandwich on sourdough. Is that all right?”
“Better than all right,” I said, my mouth already watering as I accepted the sandwich. “It’s my favorite.”
Justin looked relieved.
“This is great,” I said, thinking he needed reassurance. “Thank you for doing this.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
We dug into our sandwiches with gusto. Between hiking and climbing up to our picnic spot I’d worked up a good appetite, and I was certain Justin had too.
As we ate, I silently chided myself for freaking out about Justin forgetting how I liked my tea. I didn’t have any reason to worry. Clearly, he knew me well.
This was my idea of the perfect Larch Haven date.
After we finished our sandwiches, Justin produced slices of chocolate cake from the picnic basket, along with two more bottles of lemonade, kept nice and cold with the help of ice packs.
By the time I finished eating, I wasn’t sure I could move, let alone make it down to the boat. Fortunately, we still had plenty of time before Gareth’s race. We tidied up and then lay on our backs on the warm rock. Soon, a pleasant sleepiness threatened to overtake me.
After a few minutes of companionable silence, Justin sat up.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
My eyes had drifted shut, but now I opened them. In a split second, my serenity disappeared, replaced by a hint of apprehensive tension.
“Okay,” I said, wondering what he was about to say.
“It turns out that I can’t stay an entire week.”
I sat up, surprise and disappointment snapping me fully awake. “But you booked the time off.”
“I know, but I’m dealing with several important cases and I need to get back.”
“When?”
“I’m catching a plane this evening.”
“What?” My disappointment intensified. “How long have you known this?”
“I suspected before I even left LA, and I confirmed it this morning. That was one of my phone calls.” He took my hand. “I’m really sorry, Becca. You know I want this time with you.”
Do you? I wanted to say, but I stopped myself.
I wanted to be understanding, and I definitely didn’t want to fight.
“How can you figure out if you want to live here when you’ve only been here two days?” I asked.
“That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
My apprehension made a comeback, stronger than ever this time. I readied myself for another blow.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot since I booked this trip,” he continued. “My job is really important to me. You know that.”
I didn’t need him to finish what he was saying. “You don’t want to leave LA.”
The expression on his face told me I’d hit the nail on the head.
I slipped my hand out of his and gestured around us. “Why do this? Why bring me out here on this picnic just to break up with me?”
A look of horror flashed across his face. “I’m not breaking up with you, Becca.”
“You’ve got me fooled.”
“That wasn’t what I was getting at.” He took my hand again. “Becca, I want you to come back to LA. I want you to live with me there.”
I stared at him for a long moment, trying to process everything. “You know I needed to move back here. I was really homesick in LA.”
“I was hoping a long visit here would cure that. Aren’t you itching to get back to your career? You love acting. Don’t you miss it?”
I slipped my hand out of his again. I didn’t know what to say, so I clasped my hands together on my lap and stared at them.
Justin let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I know I dropped this on you like a bombshell. Take some time to think about it, okay?”
All I could do was nod. It was as if he’d pulled a rug out from beneath my feet, leaving me stunned and unsteady. Our conversation had killed our picnicking mood, so we made the short trek down to the boat and returned to my cottage. Justin disappeared upstairs to pack his bag while I stood in the kitchen, feeling lost.
He returned a minute or two later. He’d barely unpacked anything since his arrival; now I knew why. He’d arranged to take a shuttle from Larch Haven to the airport so I wouldn’t have to drive him. Considering my muddled emotions and my gloomy mood, I was glad of that.
I walked with him to the shuttle station at the edge of town, silence stretching between us. When we reached the station, which was really just a covered bench, Justin set his bags down and took my hands.
“I know this isn’t how you hoped things would go,” he said, “and I’m really sorry about that. But there’s nothing I want more than for you to join me in LA. Promise me you’ll give it some serious thought?”
“I promise.” I got the words out, though they were barely above a whisper.
The shuttle bus pulled up to the station and the door opened with a sigh. Three people disembarked, but I barely noticed them. Justin gave me a kiss and grabbed his bags before climbing on board the small bus. A man in a business suit came running, towing a small suitcase behind him. He darted on board and the door closed.
I stood there with an ache in my heart as the bus drove off.
Chapter Eleven
“I thought he was staying a full week.”
Sawyer’s voice jolted me out of my daze. He was in uniform, walking toward me. I realized I was still standing in the same spot, even though the bus was almost out of sight.
My stomach churned and my heart rate ticked up. I couldn’t catch my breath.
Panic squeezed at my chest and the world around me grew hazy.
Then Sawyer’s hands were on my shoulders.
“Sit down, Becca.”
I sank down on the station bench.
Sawyer sat next to me. “Breathe.”
I sucked in a wheezing breath. I let it out slowly, and some of the tension in my chest eased.
The next breath was easier to draw in. As I focused on breathing in and out, my heart settled down and the encroaching fuzziness in my mind slowly cleared.
“Are you okay?” Sawyer was watching me carefully, his dark eyes full of concern.
I nodded.
“You were having a panic attack.”
I shook my head. I really needed to find my voice. “Almost,” I said.
He’d pulled me back from the edge. Maybe I’d already had a toe or two over, but he’d saved me from falling all the way.
“What happened?” he asked. “Did something go wrong with Justin?”
I managed to stop myself from laughing, knowing that it would have come out sounding hysterical.
“He had to go back to LA for work.” I was impressed by how steady my voice sounded.
“Will he be coming back?”
That was a question I didn’t want to answer.
For the first time, I truly took in the sight of Sawyer sitting next to me. Police uniform. Kevlar vest. On duty. He didn’t need to be wasting his time on me.
I stood up quickly, realizing belatedly that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do. Sawyer seemed to have the same idea because he got up and put a hand to my elbow. I remained steady on my feet, in no danger of passing out. Thank goodness. I didn’t need to embarrass myself any further.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time. “Oh no. Gareth’s race is in five minutes. I’ve got to go.” After taking two steps I stopped and turned back. “Thank you. I’m sorry about . . . what happened.”
“Don’t be. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I said, not sure how true that was. “I don’t want to be late for the race.”
“I hope Gareth does well. I’ll see you around.”
I nodded and broke into a jog, hurrying toward Venice Avenue. Halfway there, I had to slow my pace. Whatever energy I’d had left when I saw Justin off had drained away.
I walked as quickly as I could, but I could practically hear the minutes ticking away in my head. I’d told Gareth I’d be at his race, and I didn’t want to go back on my word.
I figured I had about one minute to spare when I spotted Blake. He had a prime viewing spot halfway along the canal.
When I called his name, he turned around and waved me over. I squeezed my way through the small crowd behind him, hoping no one would get too annoyed by the fact that I was moving to the front. When I reached Blake’s side, he tucked an arm around me and scooted me into place in front of him. Nobody protested. Since Blake stood over six feet tall, his frame was already blocking people’s views. Me standing in front of him wouldn’t make that any worse.
“Did I miss Gareth’s race?” I asked.
A group of competitors headed back along the canal, toward the finish line, but my brother wasn’t among them.
“They’re running a few minutes behind. His race is up next.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. At least something had gone right for me.
The crowd cheered as the racers powered toward the finish line. The front two racers were neck and neck. A few feet away from the finish, one of the men pulled ahead and crossed the line mere inches before the second-place finisher.
The crowd continued to cheer, encouraging the stragglers, until every last one had crossed the line. Then the noise died down around us as everyone waited for the next race to begin.
“Where’s Justin?” Blake asked.
Another question I didn’t want to answer, but I couldn’t keep avoiding them.
“He’s on his way back to LA.”
“What? Already?” Blake put his hands on my shoulders and turned me toward him so he could see my face. “What happened?”
“Work stuff.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but I didn’t succeed. The fact that I had to blink away tears was a dead giveaway too.
“Becca, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I tried again to brush it off. “His job is important to him. I totally get that.”
“Is he coming back?”
I knew I couldn’t dodge that question like I had with Sawyer. “Not anytime soon.”
“Does this mean . . .”
I knew what he’d left unsaid.
Does this mean things are over?
“He wants me to move back to LA,” I said. “I promised him I’d think about it.”
