A Woman with Secrets Read online

  “I didn’t expect you, either.”

  It felt like one of those defining moments where they had to pick a direction. She didn’t think there was any way to go back from here, forward or neutral the only options.

  Just then, his cell phone rang. He pulled it from the inside pocket of his jacket, flipped it open and said hello. He was quiet for a good bit, listening.

  Kate moved away so that she couldn’t hear the other person talking in case it was something private.

  “I want to meet with him,” Cole said. “Can you get him to wait until I get there?” From that point, he responded with single word answers, yes, no, okay. And thank you, before he hung up.

  He stood with his back to her, staring out at the ocean.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  He turned then, as if he had suddenly remembered her presence. “I think so.”

  She got up, brushing the sand from her legs and the back of her dress. “I should get back,” she said, pointing to the hotel with the distinct feeling he would very much like to be alone.

  He nodded once. “See you in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  She slowly walked back to her room. She had no idea what that phone call had been about, but she did know one thing. If a door had opened between Cole and her today, that call had swung it shut again. Even now, she felt the slam reverberating through her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.

  —Confucius

  COLE COULD NOT deny he’d been an ass to Kate.

  With Sam’s call though, all the old feelings of hope and disappointment had come flooding back. He’d listened to what the man had to say, his heart barely beating. It was as if everything around him had dropped away, and there was only Sam’s voice in his ear.

  He still couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.

  The deadbeat boyfriend had agreed to meet with Sam tomorrow afternoon. Cole had asked Sam to postpone the meeting until he could get there, but Sam thought there was a very real possibility the boyfriend wouldn’t hang around that long. That this might be the only opportunity. Cole didn’t want to take any chance on messing things up, even though the little voice inside him kept reminding him of the other times he’d thought they were close to finding his daughter.

  Sam was convinced this was the real deal though. He would call as soon as he and the ex exchanged money for Ginny’s whereabouts.

  He thought about Kate and how he’d let her go instead of explaining any of this. He owed her an apology.

  He made his way along the stone path to her room and knocked with some hesitation. She answered after a few moments, dressed in a thick white hotel robe, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her face shiny, as if she had just scrubbed it.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  “Could we talk for a minute?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the folded-down bed with its chocolates on the plump pillows. “Sure,” she said, stepping out of the room and leaving the door slightly ajar.

  They sat on the wood bench a few steps away. He felt unbelievably awkward, not sure where to start. “I’m sorry about—”

  “You don’t owe me an apology,” she said, cutting him off.

  “Yeah, I do,” he said. “I shut you out. It’s something that kind of comes automatically to me. When things get difficult, I tend to hunker down and fight my way out instead of looking to someone else for support or comfort. Old habits, I guess.”

  She stuffed her hands into the pocket of her robe. “Are you all right?” she asked in a soft voice.

  He wanted to say, yes, of course, he was. But the truth was, fear sat like a rock on his chest. “That call,” he said. “It was from a private investigator. He’s meeting with an ex-boyfriend of my wife tomorrow. He claims to know where they are. And for a price is willing to part with the information.”

  “Oh, Cole.”

  “Yeah,” he said, letting out the breath he only now realized he’d been holding. “It’s pretty big.”

  She said nothing for a few moments, then reached across and put her hand on top of his. “Shouldn’t you go?”

  “As soon as I hear from Sam. This isn’t the first time we’ve thought we were close to finding her. The last time I flew to Seattle, and it turned out to be a case of mistaken identity. To be honest, I’m not sure my heart can take another disappointment like that.”

  She squeezed the back of his hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Words don’t exactly cover it.”

  “No,” she said. “They don’t.”

  It was nice sitting here with her hand on his, a connection he very much needed. “Kate,” he said after a bit. “About what was happening right before I got that call—”

  “It’s okay,” she said, removing her hand from his to make a stop sign gesture. “You don’t need to go there.”

  “That’s just it,” he said. “I’m not sure where we were going, but if we were going somewhere, could it wait until—”

  “It can wait,” she said, a gentle smile touching the corners of her mouth.

  He picked up her hand and turned it over to rub the palm with his thumb. “A week ago, I would never have imagined this.”

  “Neither would I,” she said.

  “We’ll figure it out?”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  He leaned across and kissed her.

  “Would you like to stay?” she asked, tipping her head toward the door to her room. “Just…stay. So you don’t have to be alone tonight.”

  As soon as she said the word, a wash of relief and gratitude hit him. The thought of going back to his room and facing all his doubts and fears about finding Ginny was nearly unbearable. “Yes,” he said. “I’d like to stay.”

  She stood and offered him her hand. He took it, and they walked back to the room, closing the door behind them.

  * * *

  HARRY LEFT PEYTON at the door of her bungalow just after 11:00 p.m. He wasn’t sure who’d been more surprised by his departure, Peyton or him.

  He walked back to the main lobby, feeling sullen and the slightest bit resentful. Two particular states that were completely atypical of his personality.

  He’d always been a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. A few days ago, crossing paths with Peyton would have been a nice surprise, one he would no doubt have made the best of. Granted, she was a little younger than he was—okay, so a lot younger—but that had never bothered him before.

  Tonight, he couldn’t seem to get past noticing how often their conversation had veered toward MTV and the number of times she’d said dude in an average five sentences. As in, “Dude, are you actually turning me down?” This, just a few minutes ago as he’d walked away from her room.

  So, what was the deal? He’d met a woman with an off the charts IQ, and suddenly he couldn’t manage a modicum of interest in someone a little more average?

  On the hotel veranda, he pulled up one of the rockers, sat for a moment with his eyes closed, listening to the soft rush of the ocean.

  At the sound of a familiar laugh, he looked up and spotted Margo headed his way with a dark-haired guy. He recognized him as one of the crew members on Peyton’s photo shoot. Something that felt like acid started to burn in his chest. He considered getting up and walking in the other direction before she spotted him, but it was too late. She’d already looked his way, her smile faltering a moment and then righting itself like a preteen trying out high heels for the first time.

  “Hey, Margo,” he said, determined to be cordial.

  “Hey, Harry,” she said, smoothing a hand across the front of her dress, and then fluttering a wave at GQ-boy who was standing beside her. Harry didn’t remember his name, but he was in his late twenties at best and New York cool. He probably took notes on the photo shoots. Buy latest Moschino black T-shirt. Ultrahip. New Calvin Klein Jeans, too. Fit in extra
weight workout at gym for increased bicep definition.

  “Harry, my man,” GQ-boy said, offering him a high five which he met with the equivalent of a limp handshake. “Thought you were going out with Peyton.”

  “We called it an early night.”

  GQ-boy glanced at the Rolex on his left wrist. “I’ll say. The night is young for a fox like you, Harry. There’s got to be a henhouse open somewhere around here,” he said, chuckling.

  Harry, on the other hand, was not amused and didn’t bother to pretend otherwise, even though he couldn’t exactly accuse the guy of slander. He’d spent a good number of years carving out the reputation to which he referred and would even admit that not so long ago, he’d have found the comment funny, as well.

  He glanced at Margo and wondered if it was possible to really change or if he was suffering from temporary infatuation with the idea of snagging a woman like her. And if that infatuation would fade like yesterday’s news as soon as this trip ended.

  “So, Margo,” GQ-boy said. “How about that walk on the beach?”

  “That sounds nice,” she agreed without looking at Harry again.

  “Sleep well, Harry,” he added, taking her by the arm and steering her down the steps of the veranda. “Somebody’s got to get some beauty rest around here.”

  For a moment, Harry saw himself going after the guy in a full-body tackle, rolling him through the sand until he no longer looked anything like a walking ad for Barneys Men’s Store. Sanity prevailed, however, and he offered up a jovial wave, telling them to enjoy the full moon and not to worry about that silly island werewolf nonsense.

  At this, Margo glanced back, a smile touching the corners of her mouth. Seeing that, a flag of hope went up inside him. And it seemed like a really important thing, the fact that he could make her smile.

  On this, he walked to his room, down, but not beaten.

  * * *

  KATE AWOKE THE next morning to find Cole gone.

  A feeling of emptiness settled inside her, and she wondered if it had been a mistake to bring him into her bed, innocent though it had been.

  She’d always had trouble falling asleep at night. Even when it was late, and she was tired. Her mind refused to do a quick shut down, but rather replayed the events of the day, lingering over the ones that might have given cause for worry.

  This hadn’t been the case last night.

  She remembered putting her head on Cole’s shoulder, closing her eyes. And then waking to find him gone.

  Clearly, she was setting herself up for a broken heart. But then she’d never thought she would feel anything like this.

  Still wearing her thick terry cloth robe, she got out of bed and headed for the shower, thinking a few minutes of cold spray might give her the straight shot of logic she clearly needed.

  Forty-five minutes later, she called Margo, and they agreed to meet for breakfast. Margo all but glowed as they took their chairs in the restaurant overlooking the ocean.

  “So where did the evening end up?” Kate asked once the waiter had filled their white cups with coffee.

  Margo picked up a small pitcher of cream, added some to her cup and stirred. “I took a walk on the beach with a nice guy working on Peyton’s photo shoot.”

  Kate stared at her, surprised. “I thought you and Harry might have gotten together after dinner.”

  “Honestly? I think he would have liked to. He took Peyton home early.”

  “I heard. So why didn’t you—”

  Margo fiddled with her napkin. “I don’t know, Kate. If I have to turn myself into something I’m not just to get Harry’s attention, then that’s just temporary. What’s the point?”

  “But Margo, that was you last night. We can be different versions of ourselves without changing who we are.”

  She took a sip of coffee, rubbing a thumb around the rim of the cup. “At the end of this trip, I’ll go back to being Margo Sheldon, physics professor. And Harry will go back to being Harry Smith, woman chaser extraordinaire.”

  Kate wanted to disagree with her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Because what if Margo ended up being right? At least this way, she would have prepared herself so that losing him might be a little easier to bear.

  She glanced up just then, spotting Cole and Harry in the doorway of the restaurant. Her heart did a little leap, and she realized then exactly how practical Margo’s attitude really was. And that maybe she would do well to start subscribing to it herself.

  Her gaze collided with Cole’s, blowing her wise intentions of the previous few seconds to smithereens. It was as if a fog settled over her senses, making any danger to her well-being too fuzzy to bother with.

  Harry waved, his uncertainty looking strange on him, like an ill-fitting jacket the likes of which he wouldn’t be caught dead in. Both men walked over to the table. Harry said good morning. Kate jumped a little when Cole put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Hi,” she managed, her voice sounding as if she’d swallowed a handful of gravel. She cleared her throat, adding, “Have you eaten?”

  “No,” Cole said.

  “Join us,” she offered.

  “I’m starving,” Harry said, taking the seat next to Margo.

  Without quite looking at him, Margo said, “The French toast is wonderful.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Harry said, waving at a waitress. She came over, took his order and then looked at Cole who asked for coffee only.

  Harry gave him a look. “How are you planning to run on that?”

  “I’m not too hungry this morning,” Cole said.

  “That’s a first,” Harry said. “Anything wrong?”

  “Just not hungry.” The waitress came back to pour Cole’s coffee. Once she moved to another table, he added, “I’ll have the boat ready to go around eleven.”

  “Is everything fixed?” Kate asked, a little surprised to hear they were leaving this morning.

  “Yeah,” Cole said. “The mechanic called earlier and said it’s good to go.”

  “Where are we going today?” Margo asked.

  “I thought we’d do an excursion over to an uninhabited island about an hour from here.”

  Harry leaned back and squinted. “If nobody lives there, what’s the draw?”

  “In the early nineteen hundreds, a small settlement of people lived on the island,” Cole said. “A hurricane came through, and the tidal surge washed the entire population out to sea.”

  “How awful,” Kate said, horrified by the image.

  “And why exactly are we going there?” Harry asked, picking up his napkin so that the waitress could place his French toast in front of him.

  “It’s beautiful. Peaceful,” Cole said.

  “And morbid?” Harry added, drizzling syrup over his plate.

  “I think it sounds fascinating,” Margo said. “I’d like to see it.”

  Cole looked at Kate. “What about you?”

  She studied him for a moment, aware of something different in his eyes and understanding that the explanation for it lay in this uninhabited island. “Sure,” she said. “I’m along for the ride.”

  Cole took another sip of his coffee, nodding once and pushing back his chair. “Good. Can you guys make sure everyone knows to be at the pier by ten thirty or so?”

  “Sure,” they said in unison.

  Harry shook his head once Cole was out of sight. “Why do I have the feeling we’re getting ready to live out a Scooby Doo episode?”

  Margo smiled. “And you’re Shaggy?”

  “Yeah,” Harry said, “chattering teeth and all.”

  “As long as there aren’t any hurricanes in the forecast,” Kate said.

  “That’s the difference between today and a hundred years ago,” Margo said. “People usually get some advance warning.”

  Kate wondered if she was talking about a lot more than hurricanes. She started to say she’d better go pack. But Margo slid back her chair and stood
.

  “I should go tell my dad we’ll be leaving this morning. Catch up with you later,” she said and left.

  Harry watched her go, then looked at Kate. “Something I said?”

  Kate considered how much to say, then decided the truth was the best route. “I think she’s just plain scared of you, Harry.”

  “Of me?” he said, one hand to his chest.

  “Of you.”

  “Why on earth would she be scared of me?”

  She hesitated, considering how to answer. “Margo is a pretty serious woman. She’s careful where she treads.”

  “And I’m a potential sinkhole?”

  She tipped her head in response.

  “This is ridiculous, anyway,” he said, pushing back his plate. “You know, she’s right. Saint and sinner, that’s the two of us. And there’s hardly anything compatible in that, is there? Besides, she’s got her father. I don’t think there’s a man out there who could meet his approval.”

  “That’s a little complicated, Harry.”

  “You mean a little weird, don’t you? Is it normal for a woman her age to care so much what her father thinks?”

  Clearly, Margo hadn’t told him about what happened to her as a child. She wondered if it was her place to do so. But Harry looked so disgusted, so miserable, that she decided maybe it was the right thing. And so she told it as Margo had told her, matter of fact.

  Harry’s face blanched to the white of the cloth on their table. “My God. You mean no one knew where she was for three years?”

  She shook her head. “I guess her father had to assume she was dead. Can you imagine?”

  “No,” he said, his voice quiet with disbelief. “No.”

  “I admit I had the same thoughts about his being so overprotective, but I think I can understand now.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Wow.”

  “She looks strong, Harry,” she said carefully. “But maybe there’s a part of her that’s fragile and unwilling to risk pain.”

  He looked at her for a moment, then said, “Thanks for telling me. You probably saved me from being a real idiot.”

  He stood then and left the restaurant before she could ask what he meant by that.

  * * *