Tide Will Tell (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans) (11 page)

She turned a gaze on him that was both dark and fiery. “Wait for
what?
”

“I don’t know. For Trina to resurface.” He paused, glancing past her at the bit of Blind Bay that peeked through the trees. “One way or the other.”

As he returned his gaze to Kate, a cloud passed in front of the sun, stealing the brightness from the parking lot and sending a chill through him.

She glanced over at the bay, fear cutting a jagged line across her face. “What if that never happens?”

“Then at least give yourself some time to get to know Mr. Cole a little better.” The cloud passed, and the sunlight returned. “Marriage is a covenant. It’s not something you should rush into.”

Her jaw firmed, and she took a stiff bite of her dripping cone. “I don’t know anything about ‘covenants’. I just know that I want to be a wife.”

He frowned. “It’s better to stay single than to marry the wrong person.”

The little creases in her forehead returned. “Are you saying you think I’m marrying the wrong person?”

“I don’t have any way of knowing that.” He hated having to be so blunt with a girl he hardly knew. And the fact that he was undeniably drawn to her might be clouding his judgment. “I just get a really uneasy feeling about this. And it’s more than just the age difference—”

“Okay, stop right there.” The hurt in her eyes ignited in anger. “I know it might seem a little strange at first…me being closer in age to Chase’s kids than to him—”

“Kate.” He held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to judge.”

“Have
you
ever been in love?”

He jerked back, totally caught off guard by the question. “I…”

Turning her back on him, she huffed out indignation. “Because age makes no difference to true love.”

“Look, it’s your life and your decision.” He held a beat. “And no.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “No, what?”

“You asked if I’ve ever been in love. The answer is no. Not really.”

The fire in her eyes flickered out and was replaced by something else. Surprise? Discomfort, maybe. Josh couldn’t quite read it, but he hated that she’d become silent again. He hadn’t wanted to anger her, but at least she’d begun to open up.

A gentle rain started to dampen the ground in front of them, making him grateful they were under cover. He had to face it. Trying to help her was only drawing him deeper into the emotional hole into which she was not going to follow. He had to get away before he did some irreparable damage to his own heart. It would be better for both of them if he left tonight, but he wanted to make sure she’d be okay.

He drew in a breath to speak, but the door to the post office opened and the same nun they’d seen earlier stepped onto the walkway. She looked out at the light rain that had started to fall, then her gaze fixed on Kate.

“Excuse me.” The nun approached, and Kate snapped her head toward her as if she’d been startled. “Aren’t you the girl who’s going to marry Chase Cole?”

Kate blanched as she gave Josh a look edged in fear. She looked back at the nun. “Y…yes. I am.”

“Oh. I thought so.” The nun folded her hands in front of her. Her eyes narrowed and she started to speak, then bit down on her words. She looked away as if reconsidering what she wanted to say to her. “Did that young man find you?”

Kate frowned. “What young man?”

“The nice one who was asking about you.”

“Nice man? What did he—”

The ferry whistle blasted, making Kate visibly startle. The nun glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s here already.” She looked back at Josh and Kate. “Please excuse me. I’m meeting someone who’s going to stay the week at Our Lady of the Rock.” She turned and started down toward the landing. “That’s our monastery, you know.”

Kate’s jaw trembled and her hold on her cone loosened. “A man was…asking about me…”

Josh grabbed the cone from her hand before she dropped it. “Probably just a reporter. They’re not always very subtle.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t under…” The cars started to exit the ferry, and Kate snapped her focus to the parking area. “That looks like Chase’s car.” She took a couple of steps, stumbled, and caught herself on the railing.

“Kate, you shouldn’t—”

“You don’t understand.” She shot Josh a look that reminded him of a scared rabbit. “I need him to keep me safe.” Maneuvering around the railing and into the rain, she waved an arm to signal Chase.

“Kate!” Josh followed on her heels, not wanting her to go.

She stopped abruptly, pulling in her arm. Josh followed her gaze, wondering why she’d suddenly turned as pale as the ice cream he salvaged from her wilting grasp.

As the car passed by them, he saw the reason why. There was already someone riding in the passenger seat of Mr. Cole’s car. And that ‘someone’ was a woman.

Chapter 12

Kate paced like a caged tiger. Her first couple of days on Shaw Island hadn’t gone at all as she’d hoped. Instead of relaxing in her new home with her husband-to-be, she was all alone in the guesthouse, wringing her hands and probably wearing a path in the carpet.

Hours had passed since she and Josh had seen Chase get off the ferry with a woman in his car, and there had been no word from him. Where could he be? Shaw Island wasn’t that big.

But the other question pressed on her mind—who was he with?

Halting, her gaze rested on the dark blue water past her living room windows and the twilit ferry landing on the other side of the bay. The light afternoon rain had progressed into a persistent deluge that only served to darken her mood.

She was still reeling, not only from the events of the day, but from the realization that she had hurt people she loved by running away, not just once but twice. Even if things settled down in her life, how could she ever hope to make that up to them?

Maybe her access to Chase’s unlimited funds could be put to good use. She could start a foundation to help runaways. Some kind of safe house where kids could go without being afraid of being turned in to the cops. If she could make that a reality, maybe all of this suffering would be worth something.

An involuntary shiver accompanied the reminder that she’d left Dakota behind when she’d fled San Diego. She winced, pinching back tears. Was there a chance that Joe would assume Dakota knew her whereabouts? Would he take his anger out on him? Now that she knew, or thought she knew, what Joe was capable of…

A pathetic moan escaped her throat. The thought of sweet, innocent Dakota suffering because of her poor choices made her sick. She couldn’t let herself think about it. People would look out for him—she had to believe that. Shari and Ben and Iowa…they would fill in for her where Dakota was concerned. They cared about him too.

A persistent rumble gurgled from her stomach. She’d been too upset to eat dinner, plus the thought of facing Jessica and her friends only made it worse.

She crossed to the kitchen to check the fridge, which was surprisingly well-stocked. Staring at what would normally be an appetizing array of snacks, she settled on bottled water and a bag of organic dried fruit.

How could her life possibly get straightened out at this point? She was a fugitive, for all intents and purposes. If she came forward with what she knew about Joe, she’d go to prison. Even if the authorities believed she didn’t intend to take the money, that detective had already told her she was an accessory to Joe’s crimes. Surely, she had only made things worse by running.

Nothing was going the way she’d planned, although she
had
managed to convince herself that the incident in the ice cream parlor had nothing to do with Joe. If he had found her, he wouldn’t waste time planting a bomb, nor would he want to risk drawing attention to himself. There had to be some other explanation for that.

Wandering back to the living room, she braced the bottle between her elbow and her side and ripped open the bag of fruit. Then there was that odd encounter with the nun. Josh was probably right about the man she’d mentioned being a reporter. If Joe had tracked her all the way to Shaw, he wouldn’t have to solicit help from a nun to make that final step.

She fingered what looked like a dried strawberry, then popped it in her mouth. Maybe it had been that photographer who had later found her in Friday Harbor. The guy who was probably still determined to get the one shot that would pay his rent for the month and get her killed if Joe saw it and recognized her. The thought made her stomach do a flip flop and she abandoned the bag and the bottle on the coffee table.

A gust of wind bellowed, forcing rain and branches against the windows and causing her to shudder.

Running her hands through her hair, she sat on one of the sofas. The more she thought about Chase, the angrier she got. He was a week away from becoming a married man again. He had no business driving around with another woman, much less staying away from home without letting Kate know his whereabouts. She had to set a better precedent. Let him know her boundaries right off the bat.

As she made a move to get her phone from her purse, her other, less courageous side took over. What did she know about being married? The only models she’d had were her mom and dad, who never seemed to communicate, and later her stepdad, who would fly into a rage at the slightest query as to his whereabouts. No, accountability hadn’t been a strong suit in Kate’s childhood home.

Leaning forward, she put her face in her hands.

Nothing made sense, and she was going to go crazy if she kept analyzing the situation. She looked around for something to take her mind off the waiting, and her eyes landed on her wedding binder. She opened it to her ‘To Do’ section at the front and ran her finger down the list of items, most of which had been checked off. She pulled the small pen from its position in the front of the book and put an X in front of ‘gown fitting’.

Her eyes lit on the magazine clipping she’d almost discarded, but had slipped into the front pocket of the binder instead. She hadn’t included it with the pictures she’d shown the dress designer but now, as she pulled it out, she felt comforted in an odd way. The gorgeous skirt was slim at the waist and tapered out to a full mid-calf hem. The fitted, lace bodice had a V-neck and cap sleeves. It looked like something Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn would have worn in the 1950s, and was a style Kate adored. Why hadn’t she told the designer that was what she wanted?

Never mind.
She
knew
why. It wasn’t suitable for the future Mrs. Chase Cole. Too young and hip. Not classy enough. She had made the right decision.

As she slipped the picture back into its pocket, a noise from the direction of the front door threw her senses into high alert. A
scrape-thump
, like something had brushed past the outside of the house.

Her breathing stopped. An animal? No. It must be the wind. She sat completely still, listening. Had she just imagined it?

Another sound, this one a little louder. Not the wind. The crunch of footsteps!

Shoving the binder aside, she leaped to her feet. Anger mingled with adrenaline. It was fine for Chase to relegate her to the guesthouse, but hadn’t he considered her safety? Then again, why should he? She hadn’t told him about Joe.

The noise sounded once more, and her gaze fixed on the kitchen window. That side of the house was thick with trees and shrubbery. Perfect to conceal anyone wanting to sneak around the house.

Holding her breath, she edged her way across the room, grateful that she’d closed the kitchen curtains. She had to just peek out to reassure herself.

Reaching the window, she lifted a shaky hand. Just as she pulled back the curtain, something…or some
one
brushed past the window. Kate reeled back.

No…no…!

Her gaze traveled the wall in the direction the person—if it was a person—would be moving. Toward the back door!

Heart racing, she charged to the door, ignoring the pain caused by the rapid movement, and grabbed the knob, jiggling it to assure that it was secure. Terror and uncertainty paralyzed her. Should she stand her ground? Hide somewhere?

Panicking, she scanned the kitchen. Vivid images she had thought she’d shut out filled her head. It had been six years, but as she grabbed a knife out of a rack on the counter she remembered crouching in the broom closet of her childhood home, gripping her mom’s sewing shears.

A wave of queasiness assaulted her as she clutched the knife in front of her with trembling hands. Would she be able to use it as a weapon? All those years ago, she had known without a doubt that she would defend herself against her angry drunken stepfather if he ever came at her again. That was when she’d realized she had to leave that house for good.

The sound came again, this time distinctly closer to the door. Her entire body shook with a too-familiar will to survive.

Then the faint sound of a car engine jolted her.
Chase!

He would protect her. Surely he would see the lights in the guesthouse and come to her before going to the main house. She stumbled back to the kitchen window and peeked out. Through the darkness, she could barely see movement from between the trees up at the circular drive. That was Chase’s distinctive gait, but he was walking the other way, toward the main house. Anger flared. She desperately needed him, and he wasn’t even coming to check on her.

She staggered over to where she’d left her purse on the sofa. With her free hand, she fumbled for her cell phone. Keeping an eye on the back door, she tapped Chase’s number, but got only his voice mail. Why wasn’t he answering?

The wind gusted again, and she could have sworn the knob on the back door rattled. Her thoughts blurred. Joe…or someone sent by Joe. There was no other reasonable explanation.

Dropping her phone on the sofa, she scurried to the front door and undid the deadbolt. Still clutching the knife, she darted outside. Wind and rain lashed at her and she could barely make out the trail that wound its way up the incline to the main house as she started to climb.

Light poured out of the distant windows of the main house, but everything else around her was black. She tried to cry out to Chase, but the wind swallowed the pathetic sound she managed. A faint
twunk
reached her ears. The front door of the main house shutting?