The Inn at Ocean's Edge Read online

  Her mother’s eyes went wide, and she reached out a hand toward Kate. “You can’t contact him! Promise me, Katie. Never, never go near him.”

  Kate backed away. “I don’t think I can make that promise, Mom. I want to at least see him. Even if it’s from a distance.”

  Her mother shook her head with so much vehemence that her ponytail loosened. “I forbid it!”

  “I’m twenty-nine years old. I’m not a child.”

  Her mother grabbed her arm. “Then stop acting like one! That man doesn’t want anything to do with you. What happens if you waltz in and introduce yourself? You think he will welcome you with open arms? His wife will take one look at you and call security.”

  Kate winced when her mother’s nails bit into her skin. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mom, but all I can promise is I’ll think about it.” She gently disengaged her mother’s grip. “Let’s go eat dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Her mother shoved her through the doorway, then slammed the door shut behind her. The lock clicked.

  Sobbing came from the other side of the closed door. Kate rapped on it. “Mom?”

  A distant slam told her that Mom had gone into her bathroom and shut the door. There would be no talking to her tonight.

  Her uncle appeared in the hall. “What’s going on? I heard yelling.”

  “I messed up, Uncle Paul.”

  He draped his arm over her shoulders. “Your mom will get over it. The lobster’s ready. You need to eat something.”

  She let him guide her toward the delicious aroma of butter and lobster, but she wasn’t hungry any longer.

  TEN

  Claire touched her bruises as she twisted and turned in the mirror. No wonder she felt like she’d been hit by a speeding boat and left for dead. Lurid black-and-yellow marks covered her from her breastbone to her hips. The guy meant business. Why had he tried to kill her? Was it because she’d seen him when he killed Jenny, or did it have something to do with her missing year?

  The meds made her head too fuzzy to think it through. Turning away, she pulled on a flirty red dress, then slipped her feet into strappy sandals. Ric had made no pretense about his attraction to her, and she intended to use every weapon in her arsenal to land that merger.

  A tap on the door signaled room service with her breakfast, and she hurried to open the door. The broccoli-and-cheese omelet on the room service tray should have smelled delicious, but Claire’s stomach still churned from the pain meds. The man carrying the tray propped the door open, then carried the tray into the room and set it on the table by the fireplace.

  “Knock, knock,” called a female voice from the doorway.

  Claire turned to see Megan Rocco at the door with a vase of flowers in her hand.

  “Mind if I come in?” Her dark hair was in a ponytail, and she wore faded jeans and a yellow long-sleeve T-shirt. The brightness of the shirt matched her smile.

  “Megan, how great to see you. You’re just in time for breakfast.” Her gaze went over Megan’s shoulder, but she didn’t see Luke with her. Fudge. She tipped the server, then shut the door behind him and turned to gesture for her visitor to have a seat.

  Megan handed her the flowers. “I wanted to see how you were feeling. Luke stopped by this morning and told me what happened yesterday. He’s livid.”

  “I’m better. Still sore but I’ll live. These are beautiful. I love lilies of the valley.” Claire plunged her nose into the intoxicatingly sweet scent of the flowers, then set the vase on the fireplace mantel.

  “Luke said to tell you he was meeting Beau Callahan, a sheriff’s deputy friend, for breakfast to see what he’d found when he went up to the ridge yesterday. Luke will be down at the orca pen this afternoon, then he’ll pop by to check on you when he’s done.”

  “What time is he going to see the orca? I should get out and move around a bit. I could meet him before my dinner business meeting.”

  Megan settled in the seat by the fireplace. “About one, I think.”

  Claire handed her a cup of coffee. “Would you like some breakfast? This omelet is big enough to share, and I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.”

  Megan poured cream in her coffee and took a sip. “I already ate, but thanks.”

  Claire smiled at Megan over the rim of her coffee cup. She needed a friend in this place. Even with her parents and grandparents here, she felt alone. Mostly because she still had no idea who she was. An entire year of her life was missing. Had it shaped her in ways she didn’t even understand?

  She needed to eat before she could take more pain meds, so Claire lifted the metal lid over the plate and tasted the cheesy omelet. It was as good as it smelled, but her stomach only handled a few bites. “Any idea who might have attacked me, or is the sheriff totally stumped?”

  “The woods are full of men in camo, including my dad and brother, so that’s not much of a clue. And Jenny still hasn’t been found. I’m not sure Sheriff Colton knows what to believe about you seeing her falling from the cliff.”

  “The fact she’s missing should be enough. Plus, the knot on my head and the attack that happened yesterday.”

  “You’d think, especially with his deputy pushing him. Andy Waters is sure she would never just leave. All their things are still at his house, and her car was in the employee lot at the inn. So something happened.”

  “Have they checked security cameras here at the hotel? Maybe they would show her going off with that guy.”

  “I’ll have to ask Beau.” Megan’s gaze went over Claire’s shoulder. “You paint?”

  Claire glanced at her easel by the sliding glass door. “I just dabble. It relaxes me.” She rose, wincing at the movement. “I painted the guy I saw. Maybe his face will be familiar to you. Take a look.”

  Megan followed her to the easel. “You’re really good.” She stared at the picture, then shivered. “I wouldn’t want to run into him myself. He looks mean. I don’t recognize him either.” She frowned and pointed to the splash of red at the man’s waist. “Had he taken a fox? It’s not hunting season for them.”

  Claire inhaled and studied the telltale slashes of red in the corner. She swallowed down the nausea churning in her stomach. “I did it again.”

  Megan took her arm. “You just went white. Here, sit down.” She guided her to a chair by the door. “Should I call the doctor?”

  “No, no. It’s that fox. I never intend to paint one, but every now and again, after I’ve finished a painting, I find I’ve painted one into the picture somewhere. I must do it when I sleepwalk, though I never remember.”

  Megan’s dark eyes widened. “Maybe you saw a fox hunter sometime when you were small and it scared you?”

  “I’ve never even seen a fox, living or dead. So it’s weird that I paint it in periods of high stress.” She rose and went to the painting. “I wonder if I saw something like this the night I disappeared.”

  She studied the fox’s lifeless eyes as it hung limply from the hunter’s belt. It was always the same. She never painted a living fox, only dead ones. It always gave her the creeps, but today it held a special significance. It might be a clue to her past.

  Megan touched her arm. “Have you remembered anything at all of that night? Do you remember playing with a fire truck?”

  Claire called a red fire truck to mind. Did it evoke any kind of emotion? “I wish it did. I don’t remember anything. It’s just a big blank.” She rubbed her head. “I want to remember so much.” She stared at Megan. “Would you take a walk with me? I’d like to wander in the woods around the inn and see if it refreshes my memory.”

  “I’d be glad to. There’s some connection between you and my mom. I just hope we can find it.” She glanced at Claire’s shoes. “You might want to change those.”

  Claire smiled. “And this dress. I’ll have to be back by three, but we’ve got time to try to find that missing piece of my life.”

  Summer Harbor Public Library was small, consisting mostly of donated books.
The winters, long and hard here, were the perfect time for curling up under an afghan with a book. And the library had Wi-Fi, something Kate didn’t have at home.

  Libraries had been her haven since she’d discovered this one when she was eleven and could talk her mother into bringing her. The scent of decaying paper and old carpet took her to faraway lands. Between the pages of books like Moby Dick and Treasure Island, she’d gone on adventures that made her forget her small, cramped room. It was the perfect place to feel safe while she embarked on an adventure. The librarian always had a new suggestion for the gangly, awkward child she’d been.

  “Let’s find a quiet corner.” Her pulse throbbed in her neck. It wasn’t like what she was doing was wrong. She just wanted to know about a part of her family that had been hidden for far too long.

  “We’re really going to do this?” Shelley pulled her computer from its backpack.

  They were secluded in this northwest corner near the section of genealogy books. An appropriate spot for what Kate had planned.

  Kate unpacked her computer from her satchel and pulled out a chair across from her friend. “Mom clearly isn’t going to tell me anything. I should have tracked him down long ago.”

  “But what if your mother is right, and you lose everything by contacting him? You love the blueberry barrens. What if you have to leave? Sometimes it’s better to let things be, Kate.”

  Kate chewed her lip. “Right now let’s just see what we can find out. Before I contact him I’ll check with the attorney about our ownership of the barrens. I won’t reach out unless we’re safe. Will that satisfy you?”

  “A good plan. Where do we look first?”

  “Let’s just Google him.” Kate called up a web browser and typed in her father’s name. Many articles about him appeared, but nothing that indicated his current address. She went back to the original search and opened an interview in Fortune magazine. “Look at that car in the background. I think it’s a Jaguar.”

  Shelley leaned in closer. “You come from money, girlfriend.”

  Kate straightened. “I don’t care about that.”

  Shelley’s green eyes held compassion. “I know feeling like your dad didn’t want you has been hard. Maybe there’s more to it than you know and he’s wanted more contact with you.”

  Kate blinked at the sting in her eyes. “I wish that were so, but it’s not.” She told her about the incident where he’d avoided her. It wasn’t something she liked to think about, and she’d kept the humiliation of that incident to herself.

  “There might have been a good reason. Maybe his wife has all the money, and he didn’t want to run the risk of tipping her off.”

  “I never saw him after that. If he cared about me at all, he’d have made sure I had the money to go to college, that I had enough food and clothing. He has never so much as called Mom to check on me.”

  “Are you sure?” Shelley said the words carefully as if she were picking her way through a field of briars.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not unheard of for moms or dads who split from each other to be jealous and try to turn their kid against the other parent.”

  Kate considered that for a moment. Mom made no bones about her dislike of her dad. Was it possible? Though her mom wasn’t the warm, affectionate type, Kate didn’t want to believe she’d be so vindictive.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I guess if I contact the family, I’ll find out for sure.”

  Shelley began to click away on her computer. After a few minutes she sat back with an irritated grunt. “I couldn’t get his cell, but you said you have his address and home phone number in Boston.”

  “I want to contact him, but let me check something.” Kate pulled out her cell phone. “I’m going to call our attorney and make sure he can’t hurt Mom.”

  She spoke to him for a few minutes, then laid her phone back on the table. “He says the property belongs to Mom, and there’s no way my father can get it back.”

  “Do you think your mother just told you that to keep you from contacting him?”

  “Maybe.” Kate rubbed her eyes, then glanced up at the clock on the wall. Her afternoon nap seemed very far away. Thankfully, Shelley had driven them. “I think I should go see him in person.”

  “Boston is close enough for a weekend. We could leave after school on Friday.”

  Kate’s mood lightened. “You’d go with me?”

  “I wouldn’t let you do it alone.”

  “You’re the best!” She opened the calendar on her iPad and looked at her schedule. “The blueberry plants have all been pruned so I can get away next weekend.”

  “Road trip!”

  Kate smiled at Shelley’s enthusiasm. They’d need all the energy they could get to do this.

  ELEVEN

  The evergreen needles littering the path released their piney scent underfoot as Claire wandered the pink-granite walkway with Megan. In the shade of the spruce, red oak, and white pine, the foggy breeze rolled down her neck. Her heart rate was running as fast as the bunny that dashed away when they approached. Her throat felt tight, as though she would burst into tears at any moment.

  She took several deep breaths to calm herself. She’d like to rush from the forest and find her way to the ocean’s edge where she’d find a soothing rhythm in the tide, but she forced herself to stand her ground. Running wouldn’t fix anything, and it certainly wouldn’t allow her to discover the truth.

  Moving hurt, but she continued anyway, and the activity eased some of the pain. Something about the carpet of white flowers to her right triggered a shudder that ran clear through her. She stopped so quickly that Megan nearly bumped into her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not quite sure.” Claire stared at the wildflowers. “That’s spurge, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not a botanist, but that’s what my dad always called it.”

  Claire leaned down, but the flowers held no fragrance. She touched a soft petal. “I’m a city girl, and the thought of hiking or the wilderness gives me hives. It’s normally all I can do to tell the difference between a dahlia and an iris. But I know the wildflower’s name and that it’s poisonous.” She straightened and examined the vegetation in the dappled clearing. “It’s all I can do to stand here and not run away. What is this place? I-I think I’ve been here before.”

  “We call it Hunter’s Circle. I’m not sure why, but my dad might know. I think it’s from an old Indian legend. On the other side of the clearing the forest gets really thick and deep. Any manmade path ends, and you’ll find only deer trails. It stays that way clear up to Canada.” She looked back at Claire. “There are supposed to be a lot of fox in this area.”

  “Maybe this is where I saw the hunter with the fox on his belt. The more I think about it, the more I believe it’s a real memory, not just a nightmare.”

  Megan touched her shoulder. “You are breathing pretty fast. You want to get out of here?”

  Claire shook her head. “I want to go as far as the trail end and see if I remember anything.” Ignoring the sour taste in her mouth, she set off on the granite path again. “I have to find that missing year. I have to know what happened to me.”

  “You’ve got grit, girl.” Megan fell into step beside her. “But you were just a kid. Why does it matter so much?”

  “I didn’t live on my own in the woods for a solid year when I was only four. Someone had me while the entire state was searching for me. Why did they keep me? I have to wonder if there’s something bigger going on. Maybe the attacks on me have to do with what happened so many years ago and have nothing to do with Jenny’s disappearance.”

  Her words rang true. Her entire world had been turned on its head. She wasn’t even sure she could trust her parents anymore. What had been their motive in hiding all this? Nothing made sense.

  The leaves rustled under Megan’s feet as she stepped forward. “The path goes this way. We might as well get this over with
.”

  Claire followed her, but with every forward motion, her breathing grew more labored. At first she thought it was just her injury, but the fluttery sensation along her spine told her it had nothing to do with her broken ribs. Terror, pure and simple, swelled with every step.

  This direction led to something that heightened every sense and narrowed her vision to a pinprick. Her legs felt weighted down as she moved along the path. The trees grew thicker and denser here, blotting out the sunlight.

  Her gaze fell on a gnarled and aged tree, and she went toward it as if in a trance. She’d seen this tree in her nightmares. She touched her fingertips to the bark. The shock of the rough texture rooted her to the moment. She knew this tree.

  “There’s a hole in this tree. Back here.” Claire stepped around the tree. “There.”

  The hole was about chest level. Off to one side, the initials C.D. were carved into the bark. Claire Dellamare. Standing on her toes, she reached up and plunged her hand into the hole. Her fingers closed around something soft, and she pulled it down. “It’s a scarf.”

  The scarf was riddled with holes from animals, but the silk had once been beautifully patterned with rose flowers. She closed her eyes and could almost see the woman wearing this scarf, but the memory flitted by as fast as a hummingbird.

  Megan inhaled sharply. She took the scarf, then lifted it to her cheek. “Claire, this belonged to my mother. She’s wearing it in the pictures taken the day she disappeared. How did you know it was there?”

  “I don’t know.” Claire’s gut clenched when Megan’s face fell. “I want to remember, but I just can’t.”

  The silk scarf seemed to burn a hole in Luke’s pocket as he opened the door to his dad’s farmhouse with Claire and Megan on his heels. “He’s probably napping.” He shut the door behind the women.

  Knowing Claire was seeing the space for the first time, he looked at the house through new eyes. The old floorboards had seen better days. His boots had left his fair share of chips in the old oak over the years, and the railing and baluster could use refinishing. He’d rolled his toy cars and trucks down the battered steps many a time. The wallpaper hadn’t been updated, though the dainty blue flowers were still in good condition and clung tightly to the plaster walls.