The nights were the worst, but Kateri was always there, her lilting voice singing the chants the doctor did not. For Kateri, Taylor always quieted down.
Yet Taylor could not bring herself to eat until Rainbow shook her roughly and said, “Kateri didn’t save your skinny ass so you could die of starvation in her office and leave her to explain that to the cops. Eat this soup, damn it!”
The dog barked disapprovingly.
But Taylor ate.
More pain, more days, and the distant sound of children’s voices singing Christmas carols …
Christmas. She had survived to see Christmas. She thought her father would be proud.
Kateri explained that they had to transport Taylor out of the library and to Kateri’s apartment, and they had to do it this week, between Christmas and New Year’s, while the library was closed for the holidays.
Taylor didn’t want to move.
She wasn’t given a choice. On the day after Christmas, when the early night had fallen and rain blurred the streets, Rainbow wrapped Taylor tightly in blankets, covering even her face, then wrapped her again in a rug. With many a grunt, she hoisted Taylor over her shoulder and carried her outside. The cool, damp air slid through the layers. Kateri warned her there would be a jolt. There was, as Rainbow placed her onto the tailgate of her Volvo station wagon and slid her in like a package.
Lacey leaped up and settled herself on Taylor. Then the little dog growled, a surprisingly deep, menacing snarl.
Taylor heard a vaguely familiar, screechily unpleasant voice say, “So you’re stealing a rug from the library?”
“Mrs. Branyon! How good to see you! Actually, it’s my rug. I used it in my office, and next week I’ll be replacing it with a new one I ordered from Ikea. But thank you for asking!” Butter would not melt in Kateri’s mouth.
Why did Taylor remember Mrs. Branyon?
The woman said, “Likely story. Thieving Indian doing nothing except reading books to kids and taking money from the city for it. Should be ashamed…” Her heels tapped on the sidewalk. Her voice faded.
Taylor remembered now. “Old bitch,” she said.
She didn’t think anyone had heard her until Rainbow laughed and agreed.
The transport into the apartment was as wrenching as the removal from the library, leaving Taylor exhausted and semiconscious.
But here it was quiet, warm, and comfortable. Time had no meaning for her, and Taylor let herself drift—for days—through blessed nothingness. Everything had been so difficult for so long, she had been so afraid, so hungry. She had dredged up the last coin of courage and then spent it to get to Virtue Falls. Now she couldn’t bring herself to sit up and grasp reality. And she didn’t want to try—until the day she heard voices in the living room.
Kateri … and a man.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Taylor tried to stand. Her knees buckled. She slithered off the bed, crawled to the open door, leaned against the wall beside it, and listened with all her might.
“It’s not as bad as you think.” A man’s voice, deep and warm, with a hint of a Spanish accent. Not Michael Gracie’s voice.
“You’re a lousy liar. It’s twice as bad as I think.” Kateri’s soft voice wasn’t soft anymore. Instead, it crackled with such authority Taylor was reminded of her first-grade teacher, Mrs. Williamson, a stern disciplinarian and the terror of Taylor’s young life.
Automatically, Taylor sat up straight and squared her shoulders.
Kateri continued, “I work in the library. You think I don’t hear everything that happens?”
“You’re too damned smart for a woman.” He spoke with affectionate humor.
A light slap, then Kateri said, “Landlubber doesn’t know what he’s doing, and he’s too arrogant to learn. I cannot believe he was promoted to commander of the station. No one is less qualified to lead men anywhere, much less onto the Pacific Ocean to bring in a boat full of drug smugglers. Did he figure because they were in a sea kayak with no motor they wouldn’t know how to handle firearms?”
“I believe he said something to that effect, yes.” The humor was gone from the man’s voice. “That smuggler shot Ensign Morgan in the chest. The bullet hit his lung, rattled around in there. Until the helicopter got there, I thought we were going to lose him. We might still.”
Abruptly vicious, Kateri said, “It’s too bad the bullet didn’t hit Landlubber.”
“He’s good at hiding.” The man’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Fast, too.”
“Put your men into the line of fire, then duck out of the way. Oh, Luis.” The despair in Kateri’s voice broke Taylor’s heart. “I screwed up, man.”
“Because of the cutter? You didn’t overturn it. The tsunami overturned it. And it was Adams’s fault that you didn’t make it through the breakwater and into the open sea. He blocked you. There were witnesses.”
“I can’t pass the buck on this one. I was in command. I was at the wheel. That cutter, and the lives of my men, were my responsibility. Instead of playing poker with Adams, taking his money and making fun of him—”
“He deserved it.”
“Yeah, he sucks at poker. But that’s not the point. I could have made him listen.” Kateri sounded flatly certain. “Then at least he would know something now and I wouldn’t be waiting every day to hear he’s accidentally killed one of you. Or all of you.”
Taylor peeked around the door.
Kateri and Luis sat on the short couch in the tiny living room, facing each other and looking at each other … earnestly.
Luis was Hispanic, with black, close-cut, curly hair, dark eyes, a brown complexion, and a bone structure that looked like those of the statues on Easter Island. His dark blue Coast Guard uniform was rumpled and his face was lined with exhaustion, as if he’d put in a long day and wanted, needed, comfort.
“He lived through that earthquake. He saw that tsunami.” Luis’s voice shook as if the memories frightened him even now. “He almost got you killed, and he hardly seems to recall any of it. He’s determined that what works on the East Coast should work on the West, and sometimes, he wants to prove he’s in command and I can’t … we can’t do a damned thing with him.” Luis thrust his hand through his hair. “If his uncle ever gets voted out of Congress again, maybe we’ll have a chance to dump him. As it is, he keeps applying for commands back East, but his reputation precedes him, and no one will have him.”
“It’s the military, the Peter Principle. Everybody gets promoted until he’s in over his head, then that’s where he stays.”
“Ha.” Luis couldn’t even work up a decent chuckle.
“It’s not funny, because it’s true. I’m so sorry.” Kateri put her hand on his arm. “You know if I could, I would still be there at the station, bossing all of you around.”
“You’d be good at it, too.” Luis looked down at her fingers. Loneliness and longing etched his face. “For God’s sake, Kateri, if you’d let me help you!”
Kateri took her hand away. “I’m fine on my own.”
“I know you are. But we could be better together.”
At the tone of his voice, Taylor’s toes curled, and she ducked her head back into the bedroom. She leaned her back against the wall, and thought she shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Not on this kind of talk. Not when they were being so intense, so personal.
At the same time, she couldn’t stand to move away.
“Come on, Luis. We can’t be together. You know that. I can’t … do … that…” Kateri’s voice trailed off.
“There are all kinds of ways to do … that…” He laughed.
She laughed back. “Pervert.” Then she sobered. “Why would you want this body anyway?”
Bam. Like that, he sounded serious again. “Do you think it matters to me that you got beat up in the ocean? I mean, you had a great body before, and I wanted you, but it’s not about your body. It’s about you. I want you.”
“I appreciate that. I really do. But there are so many women
out there who loves some Coast Guard officer. Go find one. Make love. Get married. Make babies. You deserve the best.”
“I know. Which is why I deserve you.”
A silence followed, one that made Taylor peek into the living room.
Luis held Kateri’s face between his two hands, and he was kissing her so sweetly, it brought tears to Taylor’s eyes.
He lifted his head. “Kateri, I love you. Let me take you to bed and show you.”
Kateri hesitated.
For the first time, Taylor realized she was in Kateri’s apartment, a one-bedroom apartment, in the only bed. Kateri was sleeping … where? On the couch?
Guilt rolled through Taylor. While she had been nursing her depression and lethargy, Kateri, battered and broken, had been sleeping on the worn love seat.
Taylor dropped her forehead against the wall.
The sound was louder than she expected.
She froze.
Luis said, “What was that?”
“Must have been the dog,” Kateri said.
“Yeah. Listen, Kateri…” He tried to get intense again, but the moment was over.
Taylor didn’t know if Kateri was tempted, if she would have yielded. But with Taylor in there, Kateri couldn’t let Luis take her to bed to prove anything.
Damn it to hell.
Taylor had to drag herself out of her lethargy. She had to face life again. Now. She had to find a job. Now. And she had to start … now, with a new name and a new purpose.
Her name was Summer, and for the rest of her life, that was who she would be. Summer … forever.
PART FOUR
THE GAME
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
In Virtue Falls, September was Sheriff Garik Jacobsen’s favorite time of the year. The rush of summer tourists was gone, to be replaced by the less frenetic influx of whale-watchers, who arrived to observe the migration of the great gray whale. The locals began to relax from the frenzy of tourist season, and put their minds to enjoying the last golden, warm days when summer eased aside to allow autumn to splash garish color all over the leaves and the sky. Sometimes, this time of year, when the sun skipped across the top of the fog, the whole world turned pink and swirled in tiny, intoxicated water droplets.
Yep, September made Garik want to do a little undignified jig in the middle of the square.
Of course, school started, too, so the number of car wrecks increased as a new batch of high schoolers got their driver’s licenses. Garik spent every afternoon handing out speeding tickets to sulky, defiant teenagers.
Garik had done his duty for the afternoon. Now as his reward, he opened the door of the Oceanview Café and was enveloped in a rush of heavenly odor: fish and chips with coleslaw; doughnuts fresh from the fryer, shaken with cinnamon sugar and served with homemade blueberry preserves; and coffee, a local Washington grind, smooth, hot, and black.
“Hey, Sheriff. You can’t stay away from me, can you?” Rainbow batted her eyes at him, picked up the coffeepot and a mug, and sashayed to his usual table.
He followed and slipped into the chair against the wall. One thing a career in law enforcement taught—always keep your back against the wall. “How could I stay away? You’re the second most beautiful woman in Virtue Falls.”
Rainbow laughed, loud and hearty. “Having Elizabeth move to town destroyed my chance to be Little Miss Virtue Falls. Want a piece of blackberry pie? Dax made it this morning.”
“Just coffee.”
“What? There’s no coffee at the courthouse?” Rainbow filled the mug.
“Mona makes it.”
“Mona.” Rainbow grimaced. “You know, she’s a lousy human being and a POS secretary—”
“Personal assistant.” Garik took care to be politically correct.
“—a POS personal assistant, and Sheriff Foster’s the one who hired her. If she can’t even make a decent cup of coffee, why don’t you fire her ass?”
He looked at Rainbow.
“Oh, yeah.” She nodded as if she was just now recalling that she remembered all along. “Mona’s blowing City Councilman Viagara Venegra, and I hear she’s got sequined knee pads.”
Garik did not grin. But it was a struggle. “I can’t address that issue.”
“You don’t have to.” Rainbow patted his shoulder. “I’ll bring you a piece of pie on the house. We at the Oceanview Café appreciate law enforcement gifting us with your patronage. Saves us from getting robbed.”
Visiting the Oceanview Café was tough on the diet. “When was the last time this place was robbed?”
“Never. See how good you are?” She walked away.
Some people might say—did say—that he must be bored with his job. After all, he hadn’t really wanted it. He’d inherited it when Sheriff Foster had resigned in a very final way.
Some people might say—did say—Garik wasn’t fit for the job. Those were the people who remembered him as the scrawny orphan Margaret Smith took in, the one who got to live at her Virtue Falls resort and get waited on by her staff, who graduated from high school with a degree in smartass and moved to the big city.
Most of those people conveniently forgot that Margaret made him work at the resort, that he finished college, and from there, went right into a career in law enforcement with the FBI.
The FBI career had been exciting, cool—and had got him divorced and battling nightmare memories. He’d managed to win his wife back, but because of his time at the FBI, he still carried a burden of guilt heavy enough to crush a man’s soul.
He was working through that. Elizabeth helped him—Elizabeth was a scientist with a way of looking at the world that always gave him a fresh perspective.
Margaret helped, too. His adoption mother was almost ninety-four, and as sure of herself as ever. He drove her to church every Sunday morning. He made confession, did penance, received absolution, and knew Margaret was on her creaky old knees praying for him, too. If he was going to get into heaven, he would do it with Margaret’s help—and by taking care of Virtue Falls.
Rainbow appeared at the table, put down Garik’s pie, then turned to face the door as the afternoon group of whale-watching tourists filed in, chatting excitedly about spotting a huge gray whale doing its routine of surfacing, blowing, and submerging.
“Did you hear them?” she asked out of the side of her mouth. “They actually used the word huge—like there is any other kind of gray whale.”
Garik chuckled and picked up his fork.
She whipped over to take their orders.
One thing about Virtue Falls—Garik had a pretty good idea what was going on in the community if he visited the Oceanview Café, and drank coffee while half the citizens of this fair metropolis came by his table and tattled on their neighbors or gave him hell for doing a lousy job or told him his wife was one smart woman, because they didn’t understand a word Elizabeth said.
Yeah, him, too, at least when she was talking about her work at the geological study. And she did that a lot, at home and on television. Still, he was learning …
If the tattling neighbors didn’t come through, all he had to do was stop by the tables where the senior citizens had set up camp and ask what was up. They knew everything.
Across the square, the newcomer in town, Summer Leigh, came out of the courthouse.
One March day this spring, she had appeared, strolling down the street with Kateri Kwinault and Rainbow Breezewing. When he introduced himself, he thought Summer had all the hallmarks of a battered woman: she was skinny, jumpy, unable to meet his gaze, seemed uncertain about her own name, and was missing at least one body part.
Within a month, she had become a part of the community. She recovered from whatever her ordeal had been. Not that she was bossy or talked a lot. Mostly, she was private. Yet when the spirit moved her, she spoke her mind in a tone that left no room for doubt; this woman had at some point led a successful life. She’d been in charge.
She started her own business, Summer Homes. She called h
erself a housing concierge, and she cared for vacation homes around the area. She did whatever the homeowner needed: she decorated, arranged for repairs, coordinated security upgrades. She even worked for Tony Parnham, a hotshot Hollywood director, as the construction inspector for his new home. In her spare time, she house-sat for the Virtue Falls residents who were on vacation. Folks who wanted to, “Buy local,” rushed to use her, especially since in a town this size, people gifted with her abilities were thin on the ground.
She had found a need and filled it. Whatever job she had done previously had amply prepared her to open this business. Yet she had pulled a stunt that almost landed her in jail; to prove one homeowner had purchased shoddy security, Summer had broken into her house. Garik had been called. Mrs. Westheimer had calmed down and decided not to press charges, and to give Summer the job of maintaining her security. But when Garik privately asked how Summer had learned to pick locks, she’d shrugged and said she had looked it up online. When he asked her why, she hadn’t answered at all.
Every Saturday afternoon, at the library, she taught Eva Rivera how to read. Every Thursday night she attended Kateri’s quilting club. And whatever help Kateri had given Summer, Summer paid back by utilizing Kateri whenever she needed help with her business. Garik had seen not only an easing of financial pressure on Kateri, who lived with the constant stress of medical expenses. Oh—and Summer drove Kateri anywhere she needed to go.
Yes. Garik found Summer Leigh an interesting anomaly of sophistication mixed with wariness. In Garik’s experience as an FBI agent, an interesting anomaly always bore watching … although Elizabeth said that calling Summer interesting in that tone of voice proved his suspicious nature.
Now, as she got her keys out of her small cross-body bag, he noted that she’d gained a little weight. Her appearance was casual but put-together: short brown hair, subdued makeup, a pair of comfortable flats, slim-fit blue jeans with a worn and braided leather belt, a black T-shirt, and a tan linen jacket … which covered a suspicious bulge at her side.