At Hidden Falls (Angel's Bay Novel) (6 page)

“How can I help, Charlie?” he asked as he moved toward her.

She got to her feet, accepting his concerned embrace. “I’m not sure. We were just talking about what to do.” She stepped back, feeling a little awkward under Joe’s watchful eyes.

“Apparently, Annie had a secret only Charlotte knew about,” her mother cut in.

“What was that?” Andrew asked.

Before she could reply, her mother jumped in. “One of the men asking to adopt the baby is the biological father.”

Andrew’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me, Charlie?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” she said again, seeing the same glint of anger in his expression as she’d seen on her mother’s face. “Annie is an adult. She has a right to privacy, a right to make her own decisions.”

“Legally, she might be an adult, but emotionally, she’s a child,” Monica said sharply. “She needed you to be a counselor, not a co-conspirator, Charlotte.”

“I told her that she needed to tell the truth,” Charlotte replied. “But Annie was torn. If she wasn’t going to raise the child, then she thought he might be better off with his biological father. She wasn’t sure she could give the baby to anyone else. But she was also uncomfortable going along with the lie.”

“If you’d told me, I might have been able to help her make a good decision,” Andrew said quietly. “I am a trained counselor, Charlotte.”

She saw the disappointment in his eyes, but she couldn’t feel guilty for keeping Annie’s confidence. Annie had been her patient as well as her friend.

“What we need to do,” Joe said, cutting through the tension, “is retrace Annie’s steps and come up with a timeline of her activities the last few days. Right now, there’s no evidence of foul play. Everything points to her leaving of her own accord. At the moment, we’ll consider her a missing person, and I’ll put out an advisory to that effect. In the meantime, we’ll check with the market, see if she ever made it there, and I’ll have some of my officers speak to the neighbors, the shop owners, anyone who might have seen her on her walk. I’ll also contact the prospective parents. Maybe she’ll come back on her own. As for the baby—”

“We’ll take good care of him,” Charlotte said quickly.

“That’s fine for tonight. But if Annie isn’t home by tomorrow, I’ll need to contact Child Protective Services.”

“I’m a licensed foster parent,” Monica said. “My husband and I took in a couple of children a few years back.”

“I didn’t know that,” Charlotte said in surprise.

“If you’d called or come home more often, you would have known,” her mother returned.

“That should make things easier,” Joe said. “But let’s take this one step at a time.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Charlotte offered. She followed him out to the porch, shivering in the cool night air. “Thanks for coming so late, Joe. I know you’d probably rather have one of your officers handle this.”

“I’m happy to take care of it. I owed you one.”

“No, you didn’t. How was Isabella feeling when she got home?”

“Tired and bruised but all right. She was on her way to bed when I left.”

“That reminds me—I packed up some clothes for her, so she’ll have something to wear. She said she lost her suitcase and everything else she’d brought with her.” Charlotte stepped back into the house to retrieve the canvas bag she’d placed on the hall table. “It’s just a few things. I wasn’t sure if Rachel left any clothes at your house.”

“No, she didn’t.” He took the bag from her hand. “I really appreciate this. You’re very generous. You never stop thinking of other people, even when you’ve got your own problems.”

She sighed, wishing she were as unselfish as that. “Not true. Right now, I’m thinking about myself and how much I don’t want to go back into that living room. Andrew and my mother are not happy with the fact that I kept Annie’s secret.”

“You did what you had to do.”

“Do you think so?” she couldn’t help asking. “I want to believe that, but then again, Annie is missing, and her baby doesn’t have his mother. I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”

“We’ll find Annie. In the meantime, it looks like you’re the babysitter.”

“Me and my mother. Not exactly the dream team.”

“I think Andrew wants to be on your team, as well.”

She saw the question in his eyes. “I’m sure Andrew feels partly to blame for Annie’s turmoil. He put a lot of pressure on her to consider adoption. I don’t really know why.”

“Maybe because it gave him a reason to be close to you,” Joe suggested.

His words surprised her. “I’m sure that had nothing to do with it.”

“Are you?” He tipped his head and walked down the front steps.

Charlotte was still trying to come up with an answer when he got into his truck and drove away.

The headlights blinded her. Isabella squinted against the brightness. The car was coming straight toward her. She could see two people in the front. They were arguing or struggling or something. . .

She hit the brakes, clinging to the wheel, praying the skid would stop, but she was flying . . . and then he was there, yelling at her. She couldn’t hear the words; she could just see the fear in his eyes.

She tried to move, but something was holding her down—the airbag?

But she wasn’t on the cliff anymore. And he was in the shadows. He was turning away from her, going in another direction, but he didn’t know what was coming. She had to get him before—

Isabella woke up with a start, sweating and shaking.

The past, the present, and the future were all mixing together now.

Why?

Because of Nick Hartley?

Was he really the man in her dreams? Or had she put his face on that shadowy figure because he’d rescued her? When he’d first appeared in the rain, she’d been dazed and confused. Had her mind played tricks on her?

Turning on her side, she stared at the digital clock. It was seven
A.M.
She’d actually managed to sleep a few hours, though every muscle in her body ached. She sat up and stretched, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The swelling in her wrist had gone down, but it was still tender to the touch. Getting out of bed, she walked to the window, shivering in the cool morning air. She pulled the curtain to the side and was amazed by the view.

Beyond the back deck, there was nothing but ocean and a clear blue sky—no trace of yesterday’s storm. She could see a few boats out on the water, but otherwise the horizon was wide open. No wonder Joe loved this place. It was a far cry from the L.A. streets where they’d grown up.

The smell of coffee drew her out of her room. Joe was already up, leaning against the counter and reading the newspaper while he sipped from a mug.

“I thought you’d sleep in,” he said, concern in his eyes.

“I don’t sleep very well these days,” she said as she grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee.

“How’s the head?”

“Achy, along with all the muscles in my body. But when I think of the alternative—”

“Don’t.” He nodded toward a bag on the counter. “Charlotte sent you some clothes.”

She was surprised and touched. “That was nice of her. Now I’ll have something to wear when I go shopping today.” She sat on a stool and sipped her coffee. “So what was the drama last night?”

“The teenager I was telling you about has disappeared, leaving her baby behind. It looks like she ran away. Hopefully, she’ll change her mind and come back.”

“Charlotte is taking care of the baby?”

“Along with her mother. They took Annie in several months ago, supporting her through the pregnancy. Now they’ve been left with her baby. I’m sure they didn’t see that coming.”

“Charlotte seems like a very generous person.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “You like her, don’t you?”

He visibly tensed. “If you think I cheated on Rachel—”

“No, of course not. I would never think that,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean it that way, Joe.”

“Good, because Charlotte wasn’t part of my breakup.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry I jumped on you. I don’t know what Rachel has been telling people.”

“She hasn’t been saying much of anything beyond the fact that you were willing to let her go rather than move back to L.A.”

“Our divorce was not just the result of geography. We wanted different things. And we were struggling to hang on to something that wasn’t there anymore.”

“I understand that, but you were together a long time, and I can’t quite believe neither one of you was willing to move to make things work.”

“It wasn’t a decision made lightly. The last thing I wanted was to get a divorce. I just couldn’t live in L.A. anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have time to get into it. I need to get to work.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it—for now,” Isabella added. “For what it’s worth, I’m on your side—whatever and wherever that is. We’re blood. It’s that simple.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I’m also going to follow up on your accident today. Is there anything else you remember?”

She thought for a moment. The glare of the headlights seemed to blur everything else in her mind, although . . . “There were two people in the car,” she said slowly.

“Anything else? Color, make, size, anything?”

“No, sorry. I’m sure that’s not very helpful.”

“Well, it’s something. Maybe over time, more details will come back to you.”

“Isn’t it too late? I won’t be able to prove anything. Even if we found the driver, it would be my word against his.”

“I’d still like to talk to him. There’s a gas station on the edge of town, and the old guy who works there keeps an eye on who’s coming and going. Maybe he saw something.” Joe set down his coffee mug. “If you want to drop me off at work, you can take my truck, and I’ll use one of the police cars today.”

“That would make things easier—thanks.”

“Do you feel up to driving? You must be a little shell-shocked. I’m going to see if we can get your car out of the ocean.”

“I don’t want to see it. It will only remind me of how close I came to dying. It’s shocking how fast things change. One minute I was looking forward to getting to town, and the next I was fighting for my life. It was crazy.”

“It was criminal. And I
will
find out who was responsible for your accident, Isabella. It happened in my town, on my watch. I want answers.”

Isabella dropped Joe off at the station, then stopped by the dry cleaner’s to have Nick Hartley’s coat cleaned. After that, she strolled through the downtown area, pleasantly surprised to find a number of clothing boutiques, antiques stores, art galleries, cozy cafés and restaurants. The mix of upscale sophistication and small-town charm was very appealing.

With the mountains behind her and the sea in front of her, everywhere she looked was a picture-postcard view. People smiled when they passed her on the street, and she felt more relaxed than she had in a long time. Even before the dreams had started, she’d been feeling restless and unsettled. While she loved designing clothes, working for the film industry wasn’t quite the dream job she’d expected it to be. Her last project, for a ruthless, egotistical director, had been one big headache and made her question her career path.

But that was a decision for another day. All she had to do now was shop. She stepped into the Morning Glory Boutique with a surge of excitement. The business side of fashion might be taking its toll on her, but she still loved clothes—the feel of the fabrics, the color palettes, the shapes and silhouettes. Her grandmother had taught her to sew before she’d learned to read, and she’d begun designing clothes for her dolls by the time she was in the third grade.

While she’d made a lot of her own clothes over the years, she also loved to buy from other designers, especially those who weren’t afraid to use color. She liked prints, bold patterns, mixing and matching pieces that might not always go together. But since she had a closet full of clothes in L.A., today she just needed enough pants, sweaters, and lingerie to get her through a few weeks.

At the last shop, she put on a pair of jeans, black boots, and a red sweater over a camisole top, then asked the salesperson to cut off the tags so she could wear them home. While the clerk was ringing up her purchases, she picked up a flyer off the counter.

The Angel’s Bay Regional Theater was putting out a call for local talent to assist with the Winter Workshop production of
Les Liaisons.
Besides actors, they were looking for backstage helpers, dressers, stitchers, painters, and construction workers. A tingle ran down her spine. Designing for the stage was quite different from designing for film. It was more immediate, more real. The actors were living and breathing in their clothes in front of a packed audience. She hadn’t done theater in many, many years, but she’d never forgotten how much fun it was.

“Are you going to try out?” the woman behind her in line asked. She had dark red hair and friendly brown eyes and was gently pushing a stroller back and forth, probably hoping to keep her baby asleep.

“I don’t know. I just got into town last night.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Last night? You’re not Joe Silveira’s sister, are you?”

“Yes, I’m Isabella Silveira,” she said, surprised. “How did you guess?”

“Everyone at Dina’s Café this morning was buzzing about the accident on the outskirts of town, and you said you just arrived.” She put out her hand. “I’m Kara Lynch. My husband, Colin, is a police officer, so we’re well acquainted with your brother. Joe is a great guy and a wonderful chief of police.”

Isabella nodded as she shook Kara’s hand. “Yes, he is. I’ve been trying to live up to his reputation for years.”

“I know what that’s like. I have some overachieving siblings myself,” Kara said with another warm smile. “So how are you? The accident sounded horrific.”

“It was bad,” she admitted. “Everything happened so fast. It feels a little surreal now.”

“I can imagine. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“Me, too. I lost all my clothes, though, so I’m restocking,” she added, waving her hand toward the busy clerk. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”