Whisper Cape (3 page)

The song changed, luring her back to reality. She glanced at her watch. She was late for work, and Gerry, her boss, would be livid.

***

Cael Sheridan stepped out from behind a thicket of Manzanita bushes and onto the highway. He looked left then right, and proceeded to walk along the side of the road, a bit more cautious of oncoming traffic than he’d been a few minutes earlier. She’d nearly run him over. He knew it had been careless of him to be in the middle of the road, but from what he’d remembered, there usually wasn’t much traffic on this stretch of highway, especially this time of year.

It had been several years since he’d been back to Whisper Cape, though he sensed not much had changed. The narrow highway was completely deserted other than the one truck. The swirling wind stung clear down to his bones. He pulled up the frayed collar of his coat and frowned as the loose strands of fabric tickled his chin. Glancing down the side of the cliff, he paused to admire the roaring surf crashing against the rocks.

“Ah, still breathtaking.” He smiled, then breathed in, as the cool moist air filled his lungs. He reveled in the fresh ocean breeze with the faint taste of salt in the air.

Yes! I love this coast
.

Taking in another deep breath, and suffering the bite of the wind, he continued walking.

He hadn’t meant to frighten the woman in the truck, but hadn’t wanted to die either. So, he did what came naturally to him and disappeared.

Hiking along the road, Cael willed his thoughts back to business. He was tracking a killer on a hunch—a hunch leading to the sister of his friend, his mentor, Ristéard. Soon after Ristéard’s death, his sister left New York and moved out west to Oregon. Cael’s gut warned him the murdering monster, known as Eidolon, might have followed her. Cael was certain Eidolon hadn’t found what he’d been looking for when he slaughtered Ristéard. Eidolon was sinister and deranged. Cael knew he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He enjoyed the walk into town, but picked up the pace, hoping he’d arrived in time.

Chapter 2

When Addie arrived at the Cliff Hanger, the place was already resonating with sounds of chatter and laughter from customers enjoying a mid-day brew or a warm bowl of chowder. The small bar and grill sat nestled in a grove of tall trees high on the cliff overlooking the Oregon coastline, boasting one of the best ocean views for miles around. The attractive little restaurant offered a touch of class while keeping the cozy feel of a neighborhood bar.

Sneaking in the back door, Addie heard Gerry's barrage of profanity over the clatter of dishes and babbling customers. He was, as usual, in the kitchen swearing at Jared, one of the chefs. Gerry, a stickler for punctuality, would be furious with her. He not only owned the Cliff Hanger Bar and Grill, he cohabited with her Aunt Maia, a pleasant enough arrangement for them. They always seemed so much in love, but Addie thought Gerry overstepped his duties of faux-uncle a bit too often.

She reached for her apron hanging on a hook behind the kitchen door, desperately hoping they wouldn’t notice her creeping in.

“There you are,” Gerry bellowed, grabbing her arm and turning her to face him. “Addison MacKenna, do you know what time it is?”

She flinched when Gerry called her Addison. The only one who ever called her Addison was her father and the memory tugged at her heart like a boat anchored to the bottom of the ocean.

“Where have you been? You know, there are plenty of bonny young women around this town that would love to have your job.” Gerry’s voice crooned with a hint of a Scottish lilt, which intensified when he was upset. “Don’t think for one second that I wouldn’t ... what?” All at once, his expression changed to shocked concern as he noticed the terror in her eyes. “Addie, what’s wrong? What happened?”

God, she wished her emotions weren’t so transparent around him, but she had to admit the experience had been so frightening she probably looked like a scared rabbit. She could feel her bones secretly shaking under her skin. “Please, Gerry, I know I’m late, but I had, ah ... um ... an accident with my truck.”

“An accident? Are you hurt?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and eyed her up and down as if checking her over for some sign of bruising or cuts.

For a few seconds Addie just stood there stunned by his reaction, holding her breath.

“Breathe,” he ordered, still holding on to her shoulders.

She let out a long puff of air. “No, no, I’m okay, I didn’t hit anything, but ... I almost did ... a man. I had to swerve to miss him and almost ran my truck off the cliff.”

“You almost hit a man? Where? Is he okay?”

Addie was tongue-tied, not sure what to say. The sounds of the small bar and grill became unusually deafening and swirled in her head. The customers’ chatter, the music from the jukebox, the clang of dishes in the kitchen, the swoosh of water spraying in the dishwasher all clouded her thoughts. Her head spun from the sounds, the room felt as if it were closing in on her, and she had trouble getting a grip on reality. The experience had been so frightening yet so unbelievable, like another bad dream. If she were to tell Gerry she didn’t know if the man was okay, he would think she was irresponsible. If she told him the man vanished, he would think she was crazy.

“He seemed to be okay.  He didn’t have any trouble getting around.” A half-truth, she figured, was better than an all out lie.

“Okay, then, and you’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, straightening her spine.

Gerry’s face softened in relief as he released her and stepped back. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore and moved away from him. Trying to sound cool and collected, she added, “I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself. You needn’t get so worked up about things.”

Addie knew Gerry to be a caring man. A bit over-protective, but caring none-the-less. Gerry Briden was a tall, handsome man of thirty-nine, thirteen years her senior—a detail he sometimes liked to affirm, thinking it gave him the right to treat her as though she were a child. He swept his hand through his short, dark, wavy hair, and bulging ridges protruded from under his rolled-up sleeves. Addie thought that Gerry proved her aunt had impeccable taste in men.

He stood with his hands on his hips, his concern settling into impatience. His full-lipped mouth curved up on the right side when he spoke, accentuating his subtle Scottish accent, which Addie knew many women found irresistible. “Well then, if you’re okay, pull yourself together now and get to work. We have a bloody busy afternoon yet. Rob was in here earlier and said he saw a tour bus headed this way while he was on his morning patrol. Those people are going to be thirsty and hungry.”

She heard the irritation in his voice and winced.

Tour buses always brought in a couple dozen hungry and thirsty tourists. The last thing Addie needed was a bus full of people.
God, why this morning of all mornings, when I have so much on my mind?

She thought of Rob, the chief of police, then of the man she may have hit, and in her mind, saw him lying on the side of the road, dead. She wondered if the chief would soon discover a body somewhere along the highway while he was on patrol.

“Rob ... Chief Thompson was here? When?” How could she have been so stupid? She really hadn’t checked the side of the road very well. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought of the man bleeding to death in a ditch somewhere, unable to answer when she called out to him. She just left him there, helpless. She froze, staring at Gerry, unable to hide the horror on her face.

“Come on now, you’ve never let a bus full of tourists get to you before. What’s really going on?” Gerry threw a dirty bar rag into the bin, retrieved a clean one from the shelf behind him and looked at her with a bemused expression. “Have you had another nightmare then?”

“
Yes!
” she wanted to scream but, “No,” she lied, considering that the whole morning had been one long, continual nightmare. She wanted to tell him about the man disappearing into thin air, but then thought it sounded too crazy. Maybe she did just imagine him, or maybe he had been part of her nightmare. Maybe.

“Um ... nothing’s going on. I’m just tired and the idea of a full bus, well, I guess I’d better get busy.” Addie grabbed a wet rag, wiped up some beer spills from the bar and tried to shake the image of a dead man on the side of the road from her mind.

“Good, we don’t have time for fucking around today.” Gerry turned to pick up a case of beer, then proceeded to stock the mini fridge in the bar area.

It was all so ridiculous. The man must have been a figment of her imagination, a manifestation from her nightmare. No one could just disappear, and she convinced herself that if the man had been real, and in fact hurt, he would have been there when she got out of the truck.

Addie tiptoed by the kitchen, located beside the back door and behind the bar. The room, newly outfitted with state-of-the-art equipment, emitted a silvery shine. Jared poked his head out the door as she passed.

“Hey Addie,” he chuckled, looking relieved to have Gerry pick on her for a while instead of him.

“Morning, Jared,” she mumbled.
God, please don’t make me have to talk to him.
On top of everything else, dealing with Jared right now would just be too cruel.

“Addie, wait,” Jared called after her. “There’s a bunch of us getting together for a campfire tomorrow night at the beach, would you like to come?”

Jared had asked her out before, but she’d always managed to come up with an excuse. He stood there—bar rag slung over his shoulder, his curly-blond hair hanging over his forehead—looking hopeful. He had a nice face, nice body ... well, great body, Addie corrected, but she always thought of him more as a friend and didn’t want to start a relationship with a coworker. Besides, she’d felt there was something between Jared and her friend Darcy, one of the waitresses, although they both denied it whenever she asked them.

“Um, sure,” she said and turned to walk behind the bar. He’d caught her off guard, damn it, and she hadn’t been quick enough to come up with a good excuse on the spot.

He beamed, his face a mixture of shock and excitement. “Really ...? Sweet. I’ll pick you up around seven. Dress warm—even though we’ll have a fire, it’s still going to be frigid down there.”

She paused for a moment, searching for the right words, not wanting to hurt his feelings. It was weird enough to go with him to a campfire—a campfire with other people—quite another to be picked up by him, too much like an actual date as far as she was concerned.

“Why don’t we just leave from here? Then we can use my truck and you won’t have to worry about drinking and driving,” she said, pleased with her quick thinking.

Jared frowned down at the grill as he fiddled with something in a pan, and tucked a blond curl, which was forever falling out, back under his cap. “Oh. Ah … yeah, sure, if that’s what you want.”

Something brushed Addie’s arm and she turned to see Darcy, her best friend, standing with her arms crossed and tapping her right shoe.

“What's taking so long with my order?”

“Working on it, Double D,” Jared snapped back at her.

“You’re going to the campfire tomorrow night, right?” Addie said, turning to Darcy with a pleading smile as she fastened her black apron around her waist, wrapping the long ties around twice so the bow wouldn’t hang down to her knees. Then she slipped behind the bar. “The three of us can all ride down together. There’s plenty of room for our beach chairs and the truck has a comfy back seat.”

Jared frowned. “Yeah, just what we need. Sure, Double D, come along; we could always use a third wheel.”

Addie cringed. The term ‘Double D’ not only referred to the name, Darcy Delacroix, but also to Darcy’s bust size. She knew, without a doubt, that Darcy absolutely, unequivocally, detested the label and Addie never wanted to be in the line of fire when Darcy caught someone using it.

“Shut up, Jared,” Darcy scowled. “Unlike you, Jared Kane, I never have any problem getting dates, you worm. Go on now,” she gestured with her fingers toward the kitchen, “slither back into your little hole and stop calling me Double D, or I’ll rip your tongue out.”

Addie was sure Jared felt the sting from Darcy’s glare as he slunk back into the kitchen. Darcy followed Addie out to the bar and set her tray down on the long L-shaped, walnut counter. The fifteen cushy stools around it would soon fill up once the tour bus arrived, as would the six tables along the front windows. They always went first, leaving the four square tables in the middle of the room unoccupied, except for busy days like today. Darcy gave Addie the drink order she needed for her table, but as Addie turned to fix the cocktails, Darcy caught her by the arm.

“Maybe you should just tell him you’re not interested, since he’s too dense to understand subtle rejection. Then you wouldn’t have to play these silly games. He’s a grown man, he can take it.”

Addie glanced back in Jared’s direction to make sure he wasn’t listening. “Yeah, well, silly to you. I’m not as cold-hearted. I’ll handle it my way, thank you very much.”

“Suit yourself. Hey, tell me about this guy you almost hit. Who was he?” Darcy picked up a cherry and plopped it into the glass Addie just filled with Coke and placed it alongside the pint of draft on her tray.

“Oh, um, I don’t know, I don’t think he’s from around here. I’ve never seen the guy before and he left before I could check on him.” Addie winced as the words slipped past her lips and hoped Darcy hadn’t caught them, knowing she’d probably think she was crazy. How could a guy just vanish anyway? She really wished she could get the image of that man out of her head.

Addie wanted to confide in Darcy since she was Addie’s closest friend—actually, the only friend she had made since she’d moved to Whisper Cape. It wasn’t easy for Addie to make friends. She’d spent most of her life moving from city to city every year and learned early on it was better not to get too close and risk the heartbreak of having to say goodbye.