Wind Chime Wedding (A Wind Chime Novel Book 2) (33 page)

She knew what it was like to carry grief around, to have lost a family member at a young age. There was always a certain amount of guilt that snuck in when a loved one passed away.
Had you spent enough time with them? Had you told them you loved them often enough? Had your last conversation together been a good one?

Her last conversation with her mother had been an argument. She’d been sixteen and desperate to go to a concert in Baltimore with some friends the following weekend. The rest of her friends’ parents had all said they could go, but her mother wouldn’t give in. She’d been against it from the moment Becca had first brought it up. But Becca hadn’t been willing to let it go.

A part of her had always wondered if the words they’d exchanged that night had left her mother so angry that she hadn’t been focusing when she’d been driving, if they’d caused her to lose control of the car on the slippery roads on the way to the restaurant. But her father had silenced her every time she’d brought it up. Even Tom had shot her down, vehemently, whenever she’d tried to take the blame. It hadn’t made it any easier, but at least she’d always known that any guilt she carried was her own.

How would she have lived with herself if her father and Tom had blamed her? If they’d laid the same guilt on her that Lydia had laid on Colin?

The phone in the house rang, a shrill reminder of the outside world pealing through the silence.

“I want you to leave now,” Lydia said coldly. Not waiting for a response, she turned, her heels clicking over the marble floor as she walked into the next room, stopping only when she came to the window overlooking the water.

Becca started to follow her, then paused when she spotted an envelope lying on a table in the foyer. It was mostly hidden under a pile of mail, but she could clearly make out the embossed logo belonging to Tom’s firm on the seal. She looked back up at Lydia. The other woman’s back was still turned as she picked up the phone call, as she gave her full attention to whoever was on the other line.

Slipping the envelope from the pile, Becca turned and walked quietly back out the front door. She walked down the steps, got in her car, and started to drive. She didn’t stop until she’d made it to the stop sign at the intersection of Ritchie Highway a few miles away. Her hands shook as she picked up the envelope and pulled out the contents.

She took one look at the photos and knew instantly that they were pictures of Lydia with another man. She flipped through the financial statements. She didn’t know why they were important, but she would find out. Sliding everything back into the envelope, she set the package on the passenger seat and reached for her phone, punching in one of the first numbers on automatic dial.

Grace picked up on the second ring. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Becca asked.

“At my apartment. Why?”

“Stay there. I’m coming over.”

“Now?” Grace said, surprised.

“Yes. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“I thought we were meeting in Annapolis this afternoon? For the practice run at the salon?”

“No,” Becca said, turning onto the highway. “The wedding’s off.”

W
alking across the tarmac at Baltimore-Washington International Airport, Colin took in the sleek private jet idling at the end of the runway. “Nice ride,” he said, holding out his hand to the man who’d insisted on picking him up and flying him out to Colorado as soon as he’d expressed the slightest bit of interest in his offer the day before.

Austin Turner returned his handshake. “Beats the birds we used to ride in.”

Colin smiled, remembering the days of being strapped into the cargo holds of Black Hawk helicopters flying under the cover of night on the way to a mission. The tactical transport aircraft were designed for high-risk combat insertions and enemy engagement, not for their passengers’ comfort. He had a feeling this plane had been designed with the exact opposite in mind. “Is it yours?”

Austin shook his head, releasing his hand. “It belongs to a client.”

He said it like it was no big deal, like it was perfectly normal for a former SEAL to have access to a private jet. Colin had grown up with wealth, but this was another league entirely. He couldn’t help being intrigued at the prospect of working with someone who had those kinds of connections, who could tap into that kind of money for vets.

He’d done a lot of thinking over the past twenty-four hours. It was time to refocus on the mission at hand. He’d gotten sidetracked, letting his feelings for Becca cloud his better judgment. He’d fallen for the romance of Heron Island—the idea of buying a home, of putting down roots, of belonging somewhere.

But Heron Island wasn’t his home. It would never be his home. Not the way it was Will’s, or Annie’s, or Becca’s.

Becca had been right when she’d assumed he’d only been passing through. He didn’t belong there. He didn’t belong anywhere.

“I’ve been following the news on your father,” Austin said, gesturing for Colin to walk with him toward the stairs leading up to the jet. “He’s denying everything. Who should I believe?”

“I don’t know,” Colin admitted. Frankly, he didn’t care anymore. The only reason he’d agreed to work with his father when he’d come back from Afghanistan was because he hadn’t known what else to do with his life.

He knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life now—help other veterans. If Will saw him as a liability because of his connection to his father, then it was time for him to leave. He needed to go where he was wanted, where he could make a difference. Maybe Colorado would be that place, for the next few years, at least.

After that, who knew?

It didn’t matter. If it was just going to be him, he could go anywhere. He could reinvent himself every few years if he had to.

Stepping into the cabin, Colin’s gaze swept over the plush leather seats, the comfortable sofa and coffee table, the fully stocked wet bar. Austin had retired from the teams only a few years ago. Life as the CEO of a private security firm seemed to suit him just fine.

As if the picture weren’t appealing enough already, an attractive woman with long auburn hair stepped out of a room in the back and offered him a chilled bottle of water. He took it and thanked her as the slow quiet whir of the stairs receded behind them.

“We’ll be taking off in five minutes,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. “Is there anything else I can get for either of you?”

“No. Thank you, Nicole,” Austin said. “That’ll be all.”

She smiled at Austin and blushed before pressing a button on the wall and slipping into the cockpit with the pilot, disappearing with a quiet whoosh of the electric door.

Colin lifted a brow.

Austin smiled. “She’s got a twin sister who lives in Crested Butte. It’s a few towns over from where we’re going, but they offered to meet us for a drink later, if you’re interested.”

I’m not
, Colin thought, but he caught himself before he said the words out loud. There was no reason why he shouldn’t be. There was nothing holding him back. Maybe a meaningless hookup was exactly what he needed to help him put things back in perspective. “Sounds good,” he said, settling into one of the aisle seats and buckling the belt low across his hips.

The pilot came over the loud speaker, instructing them to prepare for takeoff. Colin took a sip of water and looked out the row of windows as the plane began to taxi, picking up speed down the runway. In moments, the nose tilted up and they were airborne, heading west.

Austin waited until the pilot came back on with word that they’d reached a comfortable elevation and they were free to move around the cabin. Leaning back in his seat and stretching out his legs, he turned his attention back to Colin. “Enough with the small talk. Tell me what I need to say to convince you to move to Colorado and work for me.”

Not much, Colin thought as the fields and highways faded beneath them. He’d already made his decision.

Becca parked on
the street outside Grace’s apartment in Capitol Hill. Grabbing the envelope, she got out of her car and dodged a trio of twenty-something girls giggling over a text one of them had just received on her phone. She let herself into her best friend’s tiny front yard through a rusted wrought-iron gate, dialing Colin’s number as she made her way up to the door. When the call went straight to voicemail, as it had every time she’d tried calling him since leaving Annapolis, she hung up, frustrated. Why wasn’t he answering?

Shoving her phone back into her purse, she reached for the knob. The door swung open before she had a chance to touch it. Grace stood on the other side, her gray eyes filled with concern. “Hey,” she said worriedly. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“No.” Becca handed her the envelope and strode into the turn of the century row house that had been converted into two separate apartments—one upstairs and one downstairs—and climbed the steps to the second floor.

Grace followed, the old wooden steps creaking under her bare feet as she peeled the flap open and pulled out the contents of the envelope. She stopped walking when she got to the landing and saw the photographs. “Is that Lydia?”

“Yeah,” Becca said, turning back to face her.

Grace glanced up, her eyes widening. “Who’s the guy with her?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you would.”

Grace looked back down, flipping through the pictures more slowly this time. “I’m not sure. His face seems vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him.” Walking into the living room, Grace set the photos on the coffee table and pulled out the rest of the papers inside the envelope. “Where did you get these?” she asked, thumbing through the financial statements.

“Lydia.”

Grace looked back up. “Lydia gave you these?”

“Well, she didn’t exactly
give
them to me,” Becca admitted. “I took them from her house.”

“When?”

“Just now. Right before I came here. I went to talk to her about the school—”

“Wait,” Grace said, cutting her off. “Hang on. Back up.” She set the financial statements on the coffee table with the photos. “What does this have to do with your wedding?”

Becca let out a long breath. Laying her hands on the back of the sofa, she told her friend everything.

After she’d finished, Grace stared at her for several long moments. “Are you sure?” she asked finally. “Are you sure it’s over? It’s really over?”

Becca nodded.

“You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No.” Becca looked down, picking at a thread coming loose from one of the sofa cushions. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“Tom,” she said. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

“Hey.” Grace walked over to where she stood and took her hands. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I knew you’d figure it out eventually. I’m just glad you did before the wedding, and not after.”

The wedding.
Becca looked up at her as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “All that planning,” she said. “All those people. What am I going to tell everyone?”

“The truth,” Grace said, leading her over to the sofa. “That the groom turned out to be a dick. Maybe some of the vendors will be willing to give you your deposit back.”

Becca covered her face with her hands. How had she let this situation get so out of control? She needed some time to think, to process it all…and to officially tell Tom that it was over. But she didn’t know how long it would take for Lydia to realize the envelope was missing. She lowered her hands back to her sides, looking at the papers on the table. “We need to find out who the man in the pictures is and what those financial statements mean.”