Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence (23 page)

“Ed?” Samantha asked.

He shook his head. “Thanks for the invitation, but I probably shouldn't.”

“Okay, but I can't imagine you have much food left here. I know Bailey donated a bunch to the church. That was just yesterday, wasn't it?”

Bailey nodded. At least Samantha backed up the fact that Bailey was telling the truth. Ed now had proof that Bailey truly
was
planning to leave. She hadn't simply been freeloading on his father's property.

Finally Ed nodded, although a bit hesitantly. “Sure, dinner sounds good. I don't want to impose, though.”

“If you're a friend of Bailey's, then you're a friend of mine,” Samantha said. “We'd love to have you.”

Bailey wasn't exactly sure she'd call Ed a friend. But a strange relief did fill her. Maybe Ed would finally let down his guard tonight and reveal something about himself.

If Samantha got to the bottom of who he really was, the answers might help her locate the elusive information, as well.

SIX

“I
haven't ridden a bicycle in years.” Ed gripped the handlebars and cruised down the path leading from his father's house. The sun hit his shoulders, reminding him of the time he'd spent down in Laos. The beaches had been beautiful, and bikes were common transportation. He'd been there on one of his first assignments. Back when he'd been idealistic and headstrong. Over the years, he'd become jaded and skeptical.

Bailey grinned beside him as her hair billowed behind her. Being out of that house seemed to help her relax considerably. Some of the strain left her features, replaced with an image of an all-American girl—woman, he should say. She just seemed so wholesome and natural out here.

“Biking is my favorite way to get around the island,” she said.

He veered to the right to avoid a root in his path. “I never could understand why my dad would want to come somewhere with no cars and no easy access to the mainland.”

“It helps you to slow down,” Bailey said. “The slower pace is actually kind of nice. I know I've grown accustomed to it. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle getting back into the rat race. Being here made me feel like a kid again. We'd take family vacations to the beach growing up, and I loved riding my bike on the boardwalk. We'd stay at this beach house with an overlook at the top. I'd sneak up there as much as I could so I could read my books.”

“Sounds nice.”

Her grin slipped. “It was. My mom and dad have both passed away since then. My mom died of cancer, my dad of a heart attack. Those family vacations...well, they seem like another lifetime ago.”

“I can understand that,” Ed offered.

Silence fell between them for a few minutes.

“So, what did you do for fun around here?” Ed finally asked. “When you weren't working?”

“I was on call nearly all the time,” Bailey said, gliding over the sandy path. “But, when I could, I would enjoy the beach for a while. I especially liked looking for dolphins at sunset. Sometimes I read up on the widow's walk. There's a great little ice cream place in town, and Erma's restaurant has scrumptious crab soup.” She shrugged. “Mostly, I just liked letting my mind feel uncluttered.”

What would that be like? What would it feel like to be able to relax, to not always look over your shoulder, to actually trust someone for once? He couldn't even imagine.

“Tell me about your friend. Samantha, right?” Ed wished he was asking for friendly reasons. But his life boiled down to the fact that he had to be suspicious of everyone, especially the ones who seemed the most innocent.

“She's great. I met her and her fiancé at church. Samantha has the cutest little boy. He's around eight years old. Maybe nine by now? Her fiancé is John Wagner, and he's a former Coastie.”

A Coastie? Maybe this dinner wouldn't be a waste of his time. As much as he wanted to dig into the death of his father, he was going to have to gather more information first. Getting to know a few of the locals could work to his advantage—not that he only wanted to view people for what they could do for him. Of course, in his line of work, that was too often the case.

Which was one more reason maybe it was time for him to consider a career change.

“Turn right here,” Bailey directed him.

She veered her bike onto a path through the woods. The ground was soggy from last night's storm. On a good day, small bridges connected various parts of the island. Today, they'd had to ride through several areas where the water nearly reached their bike pedals.

The nice part about riding through town was seeing everyone out in their yards, pitching in to help each other. Maybe that was another reason why his dad had liked this place so much. It was like stepping back in time. It was too bad that his father hadn't been able to enjoy it longer than he had, though. His heart problems had limited what he could and couldn't do.

The skin on Ed's neck suddenly bristled. He slowed his pace and glanced through the grove of live oak trees that surrounded them on either side of the trail.

Someone was out there. They were watching Ed and Bailey. He could feel it.

“What's wrong?” Bailey asked.

Ed didn't say anything. He didn't want to alarm her, especially not until he knew more details.

He continued to scan the woods for a sign of someone. He saw nothing.

But that gut intuition told him there were eyes on them, that someone was watching.

Maybe the same person who'd killed his father?

“Ed, you're scaring me. What's going on?” Bailey asked. She slowed her pace.

Just then, the horizon cleared and the beach came into view. He tried to put aside his worries. “I thought I heard something. Probably just a bird,” he insisted.

Everything in him wanted to go back and search that grove of trees. He knew it was no use, though. Whoever was there would be long gone by the time he searched every crevice.

The person watching hadn't tried to harm them. But someone was studying them. Maybe waiting for the right time to strike? Trying to figure out their routines, their patterns?

Ahead, nine cabins came into view. They were each white and neat; the perfect place for a getaway or a fishing weekend. A nice place to unplug and relax, Ed thought.

The smell of charcoal billowed toward them with the breeze. In the distance, a boy ran down the shoreline with a red merle Australian shepherd by his side. It seemed like the idyllic picture of the American dream.

They parked their bikes on a flat stretch of sandy dune grass and Bailey directed him to follow her toward a couple standing at the grill. Based on the way the two smiled at each other, they were incredibly happy and in love.

He wished that was even a possibility for his future. He didn't know if he could ever trust someone enough to seriously date again, nonetheless to ever get married. He'd been trained not to trust people, and the one time he'd let down his guard, he'd been wrong to do so.

“Bailey! So glad you made it,” Samantha called, draping a dish towel over her shoulder. “You, too, Ed.”

The man at the grill lowered the lid, put down his spatula and extended his hand. “John Wagner.”

“Ed Carter. Thanks for having us.” Ed quickly assessed the man as they shook hands. John was tall with thick, dark hair and a quiet, strong demeanor. His eyes were perceptive, but seemed steady and trustworthy.

“This is the nice thing about small-town living,” John said. “Everyone can look out for each other. You certainly don't get that in some of your larger metropolitan areas. At least, not in my experience.”

As the two women went inside, chatting away, Ed leaned against the picnic table. “I can't argue with that.”

“Where are you from?” John asked, flipping a flaky white fish fillet.

“I'm an attorney in the DC area.”

“Sounds interesting. I'm sorry to hear about your dad. I only met him once. He and Bailey were getting ice cream at the parlor in town. He seemed like a nice man.”

“He softened up a lot in his older years.”

John nodded. “People have a tendency to do that. He was all the talk of the town. That house of his is impressive, to say the least. Everyone always thought he was very mysterious. Speaking of mysterious, I've noticed a lot of boats around your pier lately. Hope you don't mind me saying so. As a Coastie, I'm always watching the water.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I want to know what's going on around the property. There are unscrupulous people out there. Have you seen the boats often?”

John shrugged. “Several times. Two boats mainly. I'm not sure if the people on board are just fascinated with your dad's house or what. But they seem to linger. Caught them having a picnic on shore once, also.”

Ed stored the facts away. They could just be innocent boaters. Or they could have other motivations.

They made chitchat for a few more minutes until the fish were done. Bailey and Samantha brought out some potato salad, cucumbers and rolls, and they all settled down to eat.

A young boy sat down with them, his dog sitting at his feet.

“Ed, this is Connor and his dog, Rusty,” Samantha said.

He gave the dog a pat on the head. “Nice to meet you both.”

Connor eyed him warily. “You, too.”

The conversation took off from there, filled with quips from Connor about kickball tournaments, and knickknacks he'd found on the shore after the storm, and how great Rusty was at catching Frisbees.

Every once in a while, Ed couldn't help but pause and look around to make sure no one was watching them. He couldn't let down his guard, not even for a moment. Not until he knew what was going on. The only reason his father would have been killed was if he knew something he shouldn't.

The dinner felt way too normal for Ed. Here, there were no politics. No one wanted anything. It was a wholesome picnic. The fact that it wasn't strange felt
strange
.

“So, Bailey, when are you going back?” John asked. “I know the storm delayed you.”

Bailey cringed. The action was so subtle that Ed had almost missed it. What was it about the question that made her uncomfortable? Why did she want to stay so badly? Was it the will? Was she after his father's money? Or was her agenda even darker, deadly even?

“I'm going to stick around a few more days. Help with the cleanup efforts.”

Ed squinted. He needed to push her a little, see if he could figure her out.

“I think I can manage okay,” Ed said, carefully measuring his words so he could see her reaction. “There's really not much to do.”

“It's a lot for one person, though,” Bailey insisted.

“I think I can handle it. I know you're probably anxious to get on with your life. Now that I think about it, you don't have to be there to meet with the lawyer. I could get him to send you a certified letter. It might make things easier.”

Bailey turned toward Samantha and frowned. “Apparently, I'm named in Mr. Carter's will.”

“Really? And you had no idea?” Samantha asked.

Bailey shook her head. “No clue. I mean, I don't expect anything. That's not why I do this job.”

Her words sounded sincere, but were they? Ed had seen her lie and he'd seen her tell the truth. Based on those observations, her words right now were honest. Still, there was something she was hiding.

“You going to sell the place after you get it cleaned up from the storm?” John turned to Ed and asked.

The subject changed, and he still didn't have a straight answer from Bailey. He was going to continue bringing up her insistence on staying, though. He needed answers.

And so did John. He looked on expectantly as Ed figured out how to respond. He hadn't given much thought about what to do with his dad's home until John asked, but he'd never envisioned himself staying on in a place like Smuggler's Cove. He'd thought of himself as more of a DC kind of guy. After all, he had no reason to keep a house that big on an island this secluded.

Something stopped him from saying that, though. Instead, he shrugged. “I haven't decided yet.”

Bailey stared at him, an unreadable expression in her eyes.

“Really?” she finally said. She took another bite of her fish, followed by a long sip of the tea from a mason jar.

He nodded slowly. “I like to take my time with decisions like these.”

“Admit it—even though you came at a bad time, you're falling in love with Smuggler's Cove,” Samantha added with a grin. She pushed the platter of grilled fish his way. “It happens to the best of us.”

“You plan on staying here long?” John asked.

He helped himself to another piece of flounder, pondering the question. He had his leave time and staying seemed like the most logical idea. It hadn't an hour ago, but now he felt undeniably sure. “Yeah, I will be here awhile. I've got to get my father's affairs in order. Maybe I can take a load off in the process.”

* * *

The conversation around Bailey faded from her consciousness as her pressing thoughts invaded every part of her mind.

Bailey had to come up with another plan. The thing was that she hated plans. In fact, she had no idea what she'd do when she left here. One of the things she'd enjoyed about being a nurse here was the fact that each day was different and filled with new possibilities. She'd been accused on more than one occasion of being a free spirit.

She'd hoped that Ed wouldn't ask any more questions. She knew he was suspicious of her excuses for staying. Her reason had seemed believable. There had been a huge storm here. Whether Ed admitted it or not, he could use a hand. And with the will being read...

Maybe she was reading too much into things. Maybe he wasn't trying to get rid of her. But what if he was? What if he had some kind of gut indicator that told him she had ulterior motives?

Bailey tried to concentrate on the conversation around her. Ed and John seemed to hit it off, talking about government work and fishing spots. Samantha, at the moment, was occupied with Connor.

“What do you say, Bailey?” Samantha asked.

Bailey looked up and saw everyone staring at her. She wiped her mouth with a cheerful paper napkin, hoping to buy some time. Her gaze focused on the Samantha, the one who'd asked the question. “What was that?”

Samantha smiled. “I said if you stuck around for a while, maybe we could all go out on the boat sometime. If we have nice weather, that is.”

“That sounds nice.” She was going to miss her friend when she eventually left Smuggler's Cove.

As the sun started to set, and after a sufficient amount of coffee and leftover apple pie had been consumed, Bailey's eyes met Ed's. “I guess we should get going, huh?” she offered.

“Probably a good idea.”

They thanked Samantha and John before hopping on their bikes and starting back to the huge mansion that had been Bailey's home for almost a year. The sharp breeze that had risen made it hard to talk, and maybe that was a good thing.