Kingdom by the Sea (Romantic Suspense) (16 page)

Curiously,
Nicole flipped through the next several pages, skimming for more purple
pencil.  She stopped. 
November 7
^th
, 1877
.  Where Hardy
had written, “We moved from the old house to the new house,” Nina had
underlined
old
house
.   Setting the diary flat on the table,
Nicole sat back in her chair, confused.  Why would her aunt mark those words? 

And
why had she also written the letters 'O' and 'W' in the margins of the diary?

“A-
hem!
”

Automatically,
Nicole rolled her eyes.  Hazel Baker really needed a new way to announce her
arrival besides clearing non-existent phlegm from her throat—as if, if it
did
exist, it was somehow Nicole's fault.  “Yes?” Nicole said.

“I'm
sorry to interrupt,” Hazel declared with staunch formality, “however there is
a...
gentleman
here to see you.  I told him to wait downstairs.” 

That
surprised her.  Who even knew she was here besides Michael?

“You
certainly do make friends quickly,” Hazel remarked with a fleeting,
close-mouthed smile.  “Male friends anyway,” she added snidely, only half
beneath her breath.

Hmm,
so it wasn't Michael, Nicole had to surmise, but some other man.  Before she
could ask anything more, Hazel had turned her back.

Closing
Hardy's diary, Nicole pushed out of her chair.  As she descended the staircase,
she noticed that Hazel had re-hooked the velvet rope across the bottom to deter
the intruder. 

And
there he was.  Pacing the floor by the fireplace, tapping a scroll of paper
against his palm.  

“Abel?”

Even
to her own ears, she sounded surprised.  The last time she had seen Abel
Kelling had been the reading of her aunt's will.  Then he had seemed pretty on
edge over the fact that Nicole, and not he, had inherited the house and its
contents.  With a smile, he came toward her.  Up close she could see that the
paper in his hand was one of the pamphlets that Hazel and Ginger kept displayed
for visitors.  He must have reached for it and restlessly rolled it in his
hands.  At least he appeared restless.  “Hi Nicole—I hope this is a good time.”

At
first she wondered what Abel was doing in
Chatham
at all, but then she remembered
that Aunt Nina had left him her boat.  “Sure, hi.  How have you been?”

“Great,
great.”  Yet he appeared less than great.  There was a dissipated weariness
about him. 

“I
never even thought to ask where
The Other Nina
is docked.  Have you been
sailing on it lately?”

“Oh
no, I already sold the boat,” he said.

She
couldn’t help being surprised; she had just assumed the boat was meaningful to
Abel.  “Hazel mentioned you were waiting for me.  How did you know I was here?”

“Actually
I stopped by the house to see you.  When I realized you weren't home, I was
going to wait for you there.  But the place was locked up tight.” 

It
was a peculiar thing to say.  Had he tried to come in?

Abel
continued, “Luckily, one of your neighbors was passing by and she mentioned
that you might be here.  Figured I would stop by and see if you were done, say
hello.  Of course—if you're busy here, I don't want to take you away from it. 
I could just get the key and go back, wait for you at the house.”  With a short
chuckle, he added, “I'd wait around here, but I didn't get the impression from
the big lady who runs this place that I'm all that welcome.”

Even
though Nicole kept her expression neutral, she found it a little strange for
Abel to suggest that he hang around inside of
her
house.  Funny, she
hadn't actually thought of the house that way—as hers—until this very moment. 
She supposed she had still been thinking of it as Aunt Nina's, but somehow over
the last few days, Nicole had become territorial.

“Actually,
I'm wrapping it up here,” Nicole said.  “Tinsdale closes at
noon
today anyway. 
Is everything okay?”

“Fine,
fine,” Abel said hastily, his smile now faltering a bit.  “I, uh...well,
truthfully I wanted to apologize.  If I was ungracious to you a few weeks ago,
in that lawyer's office...it was just a helluva shock.  Your aunt and I had
been together for a long time.” 

True,
and it didn't say much for Nicole that she had never gotten to know Abel more
over the years.  Unfortunately, his relationship with Nina had overlapped with
Nicole's thus far self-absorbed twenties.  “So, uh...”  Abel eyed the door
uneasily.  “I was hoping I could make it up to you by taking you to lunch.”

“That's
so nice...but it's really not necessary.”

“Please—I
insist.  Or we can always just go back to the house and talk, if you'd rather
do that.  I...well, I just really miss her, you know?  Miss the dinners, the
talks, the nights we would maybe grab a bottle of wine from her wine cellar and
order some food in, and, you know, talk for hours...or whatever.”

Curiously,
Nicole tilted her head.  “Nina didn't have a wine cellar.” 

Abel
hesitated. 

“Actually,
the house doesn't have a cellar at all,” she added.  She spoke casually so as
not to make him feel foolish, however—why would Abel say that Nina had a wine
cellar?

Then
he slapped his hand to his forehead.  “That's right, I'm thinking of my house
here.  In
Chatham
.  Or what used to be my house; I sold it last year. 
Anyway, it would just be good for me to talk about her, you know?  I just...”  He
looked down as if searching the wooden planks for the words.  “I loved her so
much, you know?  It would help to talk about her with someone who loved her,
too.”   

In
light of such a sentiment, Nicole couldn't exactly brush him off.  And other
than a general aversion to prolonged small talk with a man she barely knew, she
really had no reason to decline.  The guy was obviously making an effort to
connect with Nina's family; there was a touching sadness to the gesture.  Abel
eyed the door again.  Then looked at Nicole, expectantly.   Finally, she said,
“Okay, how about this?  I'll go upstairs and get my coat, then we can go grab
lunch down the street.”

“Actually,
I'm really not hungry.  We can just sit and talk—oh, unless
you're
hungry,” he said quickly, then smiled again, as though trying to please.  “To
be honest, I'm afraid if I start talking about Nina, I might get emotional. 
And I wouldn't want to be out at a restaurant if that happens.  I hope you
understand.” 

She
supposed she did, but if that were the case, why ask to take her to lunch in
the first place?  Unless he was just cheap and hadn't meant it when he had
originally suggested it.

“No
problem, we can go have coffee at the house and talk, if you prefer that,” she
offered.

“Great,
perfect,” Abel said, breathing the words like a sigh.  Then he held his hand
out, motioning toward the door.  “After you.  My car's parked out front.”

***

The
ride to Nina's house was only five minutes, but bountiful pockets of silence
made it seem longer.  Mindless prattle was a generous term for the canned,
disconnected comments that came from Abel Kelling's mouth—and Nicole's
contributions were equally uninspired. 

But
in her defense, whenever she attempted conversation that went beyond the
weather—for instance questions about Abel's work—he seemed terse and
disinclined to pursue it.   

Now,
as they turned onto
Orchard Street
, Nicole asked, “Are you in town just for
today?  You mentioned that you sold your house here.”

Instead
of replying, Abel paused—a long pause—and that was when Nicole noticed that he
was preoccupied with something beyond the windshield.  She followed his gaze
until her eyes landed on a familiar blue truck parked in her driveway.  “Oh my
gosh!” she exclaimed as her hand automatically reached for the door handle. 
“My friends are here!” 

Without
thinking, she flew out of the car as soon as it stopped, not bothering to
explain to Abel.  It was completely rude, but she couldn't help herself.

“There
she is...” Trevor said, stepping out of the truck.  His breezy smile was
contagious.

“Hi
guys!”  Enthusiastically, Nicole rushed toward them. 

“Hey
you,” Cameron said after he emerged from the driver's side, standing tall and
squinting in the sun.

Cameron and Trevor had grown up together and still
remained best friends.  The two men had some fundamental basics in common—both
were obsessed with football and Megan Fox—and some superficial
differences—Trevor had sparkly blue eyes, Cameron's were dark.  Cynical, like
the twist of his mouth, so was his sideways glance at the world. 

Cameron:
intense and ethical.  Trevor: breezy and unfazed.

Trevor
ducked back into the car, reaching for something in the backseat.

“What
are you guys doing here?”  Nicole met Cameron half way and threw her arms
around him.

“What
do you think?  We came to visit you,” he said, tightening their hug for a
moment before letting her go.  “We missed you.” 

Just
then, Trevor lifted a shaggy tan and gray dog from the car.  The little
creature fit easily in his arms and appeared calm.  “Oh my gosh, who's this?”
Nicole said, smiling and reaching to pet its fur.  “When did you get a dog?”

“I
didn't,” Trevor explained, “
you
did.”  And he placed the puppy into
Nicole's accepting arms.  “She's yours.”

An
unexpected thrill shot through her.  “For
me?
”

“I
told him not to,” Cameron interjected, sounding perfectly like the defeated
voice of reason.

“The
shelter said her name is Puddle,” Trevor continued.  Still stunned, Nicole's
mouth hung open.  “I know you always wanted a dog, and now you have a house and
a big yard.”

“I
told him that a dog's a huge responsibility,” Cameron said, shaking his head. 
“And that you're only going to be here a few weeks, so if your landlord doesn't
let you keep her—”

Rolling
his eyes, Trevor started singing, “
Buzz...kill...
”  Nicole laughed and
hugged Puddle close.  “I knew you'd love her.” 

Pressing
her nose to the dog's silky fur, she said, “I do love her.  This is the best
surprise ever!”

Cameron
eyed her carefully.  “So then you really want to keep her, Nic?  You can be
honest.”

“Shut-up,
prick, she wants to keep her,” Trevor said with slight exasperation.

“Okay,
in that case...”  Cameron stepped back to the car, reached inside and pulled
out a big spongy dog bed and a sack of dog food.  “These are from me.”

Her smile
broke wider as emotion suddenly choked her.  She thanked her friends again,
then kissed Puddle's head.  The dog didn't react much, and seemed oddly
complacent in the new surroundings.

“Uh,
excuse me...hate to interrupt...”

Oh
God—she had totally forgotten about Abel! 

Turning
now, Nicole saw Abel Kelling walking up the driveway.  She felt like such a
jerk!  She had just run off and forgotten that he was coming in for coffee,
forgotten about him altogether for the past few minutes!  “Oh, I'm sorry to run
off like that,” she said quickly.  “Let me introduce you to my friends;
Cameron, Trevor, this is Abel.  He was my aunt's boyfriend.” 

They
shook hands, said hello.  Then Abel asked, “Will you guys be staying here?”

“Just
for the night,” Cameron replied.

“Guys,
Abel and I were just going to go inside and have some coffee,” Nicole began
when Abel interrupted.

“You
know what, we'll just do it another time,” he said, backing away.  “I'll come
back.”

“No,
really, please stay,” Nicole insisted.  She felt bad chasing him off when he
had been so intent on talking. 

“Yeah,
sorry,” Trevor offered lightheartedly, “we kind of did a sneak attack.”

“No,
really, I have to run,” Abel said.  Then he looked squarely at Nicole.  “Let's
talk tomorrow?”

“Okay,
definitely.  How about we meet for lunch at the Squire on
Main Street
?  Around
twelve o'clock
?”  Abel didn’t
seem overly pleased with the new plan, but after a momentary hesitation, he
agreed.  Soon he disappeared down the winding S of Orchard Street.

“I'm
so happy you're here.  You should have called; I could have picked up some beer
or movies or something.”

“Let's
try this again,” Cameron said.  “
Sur.
Prise.”

After
she showed them around the house, Nicole and Cameron took a seat on the couch
and Trevor flopped into an armchair.  Suddenly Cameron said, “Are you still
hanging out that guy with the boat, or did he leave yet?”

“No,
he's still here.  Actually, now that you're here, I want you guys to meet him.”