Читать книгу The Black Sheep's Redemption - Lynette Eason - Страница 14

FOUR

Saturday morning dawned a little overcast, but no rain fell yet. The thought of the day to come sent a twinge of excitement through Demi, spurring her to toss back the covers and pad toward the bathroom. She had something to do today besides sit in her apartment spilling her guts to Chloe and bemoaning the fact that her memory hadn’t returned yet.

Self-pity was no fun. It was time to start making plans for the future, start to live again and try to either get her memory back or accept that it was gone for good and move on.

Of course she wanted her memory back, but if that wasn’t meant to be, she was determined not to let the amnesia negatively affect the rest of her life.

At least that was the pep talk for this morning. Tonight, when she was all alone once again, she would have to figure out how to keep the despair and frustration at bay.

Briefly, she thought about the Bible she’d seen on the shelf in the bookstore. Maybe she should turn to God for comfort. Making a mental note to think about that, she went into the kitchen for her morning cup of coffee.

And realized she didn’t smell it.

Another thing she’d discovered since getting out of the hospital was that she loved coffee. Any kind, flavored, black, with cream. It didn’t matter.

The last thing she did before bed was set the timer on the coffeemaker Fiona had given her as a housewarming gift.

Only she’d been so distracted last night, she’d forgotten to set the timer.

She filled the carafe then opened the cabinet to pull out the canister of coffee.

When she pulled off the top, she gaped.

A piece of paper sat on top of the ground coffee.

Wariness flooded her. How did this get in her coffee can? Reaching in, she pulled it out and read, Stay away from Charles Fitzgerald. You don’t belong here.

Knees suddenly week, she dropped the paper back into the can, slapped on the top and gasped, her lungs deflated.

Flashes of a hard fist. Shouted angry words. Pain in her head.

She cried out and sank to the floor, hands gripping her hair. Her head throbbed, but she forced herself to think, to remember.

“No!” The word echoed, the pain in her head intensified and tears slipped down her cheeks. Heart thudding, head pounding, she whispered, “Please, stop. Stop.”

For the next few minutes she sat there and emptied her mind of every thought. She couldn’t force it. And she had to pull herself together for Charles and the children.

Twenty minutes later, a fine tremor still shook her, but she took a look in the mirror as she ran a brush through her hair. The excited anticipation of the day had waned because of the message still in her coffee can—and the disturbing flashes that resonated in the corners of her mind.

But the thing holding her together was the thought of being with Charles and the children.

That gnawing in the pit of her stomach agitated her as she realized she’d been right. Her instincts had been dead-on when she thought someone had been in the apartment yesterday.

But who?

And what should she do with the odd—and scary—message? Was it from someone who was warning her away from Charles because of what happened to Olivia? But what a weird way to do so.

Should she report it to the police? But what could they do? And why say she didn’t belong there? Why would someone go to all the trouble to sneak into her apartment and leave that in her coffee can?

The coffee can.

A strange place for a note. Why put it there?

Unless the person knew her. Knew her habits.

A chill swept through her.

The person had to know that she loved coffee. That she would be in that coffee can first thing this morning. Or soon anyway.

Or was it simply coincidence? The coffeemaker sat in plain sight on the counter. It would be a short thought to realize there would be coffee in the cabinet somewhere.

But why?

Her head started to ache again. Determined to push the incident out of her mind until she felt ready to deal with it, she focused on the excitement she’d felt when she first woke up and remembered what she was doing for the day.

She muttered, “You really shouldn’t be so excited about spending the day with Charles and the kids. He’s your employer, nothing more.”

She flushed as she said the words out loud because she knew they were a lie.

She’d been attracted to him the minute she’d looked into those blue eyes and seen compassion—and a spark of something more as he’d questioned her during the interview for the nanny position.

Wishing she had some lip gloss or lipstick made her flush hotter and she rolled her eyes at her reflection. Shiny lips hadn’t gotten her the job. Trustworthiness and capability were the qualities Charles had been looking for, and she’d assured him that she had both. He was obviously a good father who was very careful about whom he left his children with.

As well he should be.

But today wasn’t about work even though she looked forward to caring for the children during their time together. Most of all, she wanted to get to know Charles a little better. Spending the day together would allow that.

She didn’t mind the idea one bit.

But someone else did. Someone else thought she didn’t belong here. Here in town? Here with Charles? Here in The Reading Nook?

Again, who?

Standing at the window in her bedroom, she glanced down in the small alley that ran behind her building. It was a shortcut to the other street and had a lot of traffic most days.

She’d stood in this spot many times since moving in. Just watching, wondering about the lives that passed under her window.

Today, the foot traffic was light.

A solitary figure in a hooded sweatshirt, hands tucked in the front pockets walked slowly. Then paused in front of the back door that would lead into her building. She watched him reach out, his arm moved in a twisting motion.

What was he doing?

Seeing if the door was unlocked?

Fortunately, she and Fiona kept it locked unless there was a delivery expected. Tensing, she waited to see if he could get in. Was he the one who’d broken in and left the note?

When he dropped his hand and turned to walk off, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Chloe wound herself around Demi’s left ankle, distracting her from her thoughts and unanswered questions. She picked up the cat and carried her to the bed. Setting the animal on the coverlet, she asked, “Shorts or jeans?”

Chloe commenced cleaning her left front paw.

“Right. That’s what I thought, too. Jeans it is.”

Pulling up her hair into a ponytail, Demi dressed in her thrift store jeans and a flowered top. She opened her purse and grabbed a ten-dollar bill that she stuffed into her front pocket.

She picked up the cell phone Charles had insisted she have the first day she’d reported for work and stuck that in her back pocket. Then she snatched her light jacket from the closet. Unable to bring herself to close the door, she left it cracked open.

Demi stepped out into the hall and pulled the apartment door tight behind her. She double-checked the lock, doing her best to push yesterday’s and this morning’s incidents from her mind. Shivering at the unpleasant memories, she pocketed the key and slipped into her jacket.

Once down the steps and outside, she looked around for the man who’d stopped at her building and tested the doorknob. Seeing no one, she told herself to relax.

Since she was much too early to meet Charles and the twins—and there was no way she was touching that coffee in her cabinet—Demi decided to have breakfast at the Sugar Plum Café. Excitement at seeing Charles again swirled through her. And yet she couldn’t help wonder at the reasons behind the invitation. Did he just want extra help with the twins? Or was it possible he was interested in her as a woman and a potential date? She grimaced. It would do no good to ask questions she didn’t have the answers for. “Just take it one day at a time,” she whispered.

Clouds hung low and gray, but the sun peeped out behind them so she hoped the rain would hold off long enough to enjoy the day with the Charles Fitzgerald family.

After several glances up and down the street, she crossed at the intersection, then followed the short road past the park. Splashing through a puddle left over from the night rain, she finally found herself in front of the café. The white structure with the large porch was welcoming. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Waiting for her.

But who? And why?

The man she’d seen trying to get in the building? Demi scoffed at herself. He was probably someone who wanted to go to the bookstore and thought he could take a shortcut by going in the back door.

Surely that was all it was.

But what about the note?

Still feeling a hovering sense of foreboding, Demi shivered as she stepped inside and took in the atmosphere. One of comfort and refuge with tables and chairs and couches. The display of pictures tacked to the walls was mind-boggling. Everywhere one looked, a picture smiled back.

Several patrons sat alone, working on laptops. Tempting smells made her empty stomach rumble and she headed straight for the glass-front case display. An assortment of cakes and pastries called to her. She wanted one of each, but she’d only been working for one week and her funds were still tight.

“Can I help you?”

Demi jumped and turned to see a pretty woman in her late twenties. Her brown eyes sparkled friendliness. Victoria, the owner of the Sugar Plum Café.

After checking the prices on the menu posted on the wall, Demi chose the cheapest option. “I’d love a cup of coffee, black, please.”

“Sure thing.” In a few minutes, Victoria returned and handed her the cup. “So how are things going?”

“Pretty well.”

“Charles hired you to be the children’s nanny, didn’t he?”

“I guess it’s all over town by now.”

“Indeed. I’m just glad you’re not buying into all that nonsense about Charles killing Olivia.”

“No. I’m not buying into it.”

From what Demi understood, Olivia had come to Fitzgerald Bay from Ireland three months before her murder, a stranger in town, but one who quickly made friends with Victoria and her daughter, Paige, when she’d stayed at the inn.

Curiosity lifted Victoria’s brow. “So, you work for my future brother-in-law, but I don’t really know anything about you. Do you have family around here?”

Victoria was engaged to Owen Fitzgerald, Charles’s younger brother and a detective with the police force.

“I…” What could she say? I don’t know? I don’t remember? Demi forced a smile as she handed over three precious dollars. “No. I’m just looking for a new start. Fitzgerald Bay seemed like the kind of place where I could find that.”

“You’re right about that. Why don’t you have a seat over there by the fire? It may be May, but it’s still chilly here first thing in the morning so I keep the fire going.”

Demi nodded. “Thanks. I’ll do that.” She started toward the comfy-looking chair by the flickering flames.

Once seated, she grabbed the abandoned newspaper on the table before her and opened it. Of course the front page story was still about Olivia Henry’s unsolved murder. The first murder in forty years in this town. But there was nothing about the incident at Charles’s house last night. She shivered and set the paper back on the table.

The fire crackled and the warmth felt lovely. Soon, she’d warmed up enough to shrug out of the light jacket one of the nurses had given her before she’d been discharged from the hospital three weeks ago.

Everything she now owned in the world had been given to her by another person. The familiar fear filled her, coming from a place she couldn’t define. She just knew it was very real. A mental picture of the note in her coffee grounds added to that feeling. Someone had been in her home. Warning her to stay away from Charles.

She couldn’t fathom it. But who? Who?

And should she report it?

But what would she say? What could the police do about it? She continued to toy with the idea. Maybe she would tell Charles about it and see what advice he had to offer. Then again, if she told Charles, that would just add to his guilt about hiring her. What if he fired her because he thought it would keep her safe?

She shuddered. Jobs in Fitzgerald Bay were few and far between. She couldn’t afford to lose the nanny position. No, she’d just keep quiet about the note and hope Olivia’s murderer was found soon.

Demi briefly wondered if she should pray about everything. Did she even know how?

Dear God, please give me my memories back. I need to know who I am. I need to know why I’m so afraid and constantly feeling like I need to watch my back… Please….

Closing her eyes, she did her best to bring forth memories from before she woke in the hospital.

And couldn’t do it. Not even one. Just the feeling of fear whenever she tried to remember.

And the headache.

And now the note in her coffee can. The headache worsened.

Quickly, she tossed her thoughts in another direction.

Fitzgerald Bay. A small close-knit community that was friendly to outsiders. At least that’s what the website advertised when she’d been narrowing down her choices.

And now she had a place to live and a good job. She was doing all right for someone who’d had nothing and no one three weeks ago.

She glanced at the clock on the wall behind the counter. Eight forty-five. She still had a few minutes before she needed to walk to the park. Demi leaned her head against the cushioned back of the chair and stared out the window while she sipped her coffee. Her mind spun, wondering, desperate to remember who she was, where she was from, if she had relatives that missed her. She swallowed hard against the tears that sprang to the surface.

“Hey.”

Demi jumped and did her best to hide her whirling emotions from Victoria who stood before her holding a plate of sandwiches and some delicious-looking pastries.

“Oh. Sorry, I was…thinking.”

Victoria set the plate on the table beside Demi and said, “Help yourself.”

“What? Oh, no, that’s okay. I have money.” She flushed and wondered if she looked like a charity case.

Victoria shrugged. “I just thought I’d give you a sampling of what we serve here. Maybe tempt you to come back.”

Now Demi felt embarrassed. And hungry. “Well, thank you.” She snitched a croissant filled with chicken salad and took a bite as she tried to push the depressing thoughts from her mind. “Wow. This is delicious. I’ll definitely be back.”

They laughed and Victoria said, “It’s my own chicken salad recipe. Pretty good, huh?”

“You could win ribbons with this stuff.” Demi quickly polished off the first sandwich and took a sip of coffee.

Victoria laughed. “I knew I liked you.” She settled into the chair opposite Demi. “So, how do you like working for Charles? I know it’s been only one week, but you must have some impressions.”

What was the woman fishing for? “I’m very grateful he hired me. The children are definitely a handful, but very precious.”

“I know. They’re great. And Charles is a wonderful man regardless of what you might hear said around town.”

“Oh, come on, Victoria, how can you say that?”

Demi and Victoria turned in unison to find the owner of the voice. A young woman with her blond hair hanging around one shoulder planted her hands on her hips. “Charles might be guilty of murder.”

Victoria sighed. “Meghan Henry, cousin to Olivia Henry, meet Demi Taylor.”

Demi gave the adamant young woman with the pretty hazel eyes a tremulous smile. “Hi.”

“Hi. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted your conversation, but I’m just very concerned for you. For anyone who has anything to do with Charles Fitzgerald.” And she did look worried, a genuine kind of worried, not the fake kind of worried most people in the town had expressed in order to pump her for information about the Fitzgeralds.

Frowning, Demi exchanged a look with Victoria then said, “I appreciate your concern, but Charles has been nothing but kind to me.”

Meghan sighed. “Well, I would watch my back if I were you.” She slipped her purse over her shoulder. “I’m in the cottage on the beach, the one just up from the lighthouse. If you ever need anything, please come see me.”

Again, sincerity rang in Meghan’s words and Demi wasn’t sure what to think. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Be careful, okay?” She glanced between her and Victoria. “See you around.”

With that, she left.

Demi raised a brow at Victoria who sighed. “I hope you won’t take what she said to heart. I don’t believe for a minute that he murdered Olivia.”

“I know. I don’t believe he did, either.”

“Good.” Approval radiated from the woman. “He’s needed some help for a long time. His father’s housekeeper, Mrs. Mulrooney, is wonderful, but she can’t keep up with two rambunctious toddlers. I’m so glad Charles found you.”

Demi felt a smile slip across her face. “Thanks. It was actually his sister Fiona who told me about the job.” She looked at the clock again. “And now I’ve got to run. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

* * *

Charles gave the swing a push and felt his heart lighten at his children’s laughter. His eyes drifted from his kids to the direction he knew Demi would come from.

He’d had a hard time falling asleep last night as her image kept appearing in his thoughts—in between wondering who’d vandalized his house. He preferred thoughts of Demi. She was beautiful, had a gentle spirit about her—and she scared him to pieces.

She’d been in his life just a short time, but already, he felt as though he’d known her for a while. And while it was true he didn’t know as much as he’d like due to the amnesia, he liked what he knew, what he’d observed.

He also knew that if he had any brains at all, he’d find a woman old enough to be his mother to care for the children simply to cut down on the wagging tongues. Unfortunately, no one in that age category seemed to be in the market for a job that taxing. Or one that had anything to do with him.

Him. A murder suspect. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. But apparently the townspeople didn’t have any trouble believing it. Everywhere he went, he felt eyes on him, knew they were wondering if he was a killer. His medical practice had suffered as had his confidence in most of those he used to call friends.

His gaze went to a young couple strolling hand in hand along the park path as though they didn’t have a care in the world. He remembered those days. Sometimes he missed them. Then he looked at Brianne and Aaron and wouldn’t change the past even if he could.

His eyes went back to The Reading Nook bookstore.

But Demi had him thinking more and more about the future and what it might be like to find the one he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

A feeling of someone watching pulled him from his thoughts. Glancing around, Charles spotted two women on a park bench near the sandbox. They stared at him as they talked.

Christina Hennessy and Dolores Nunez, nanny for Burke and Christina’s toddler. Distaste curled through him. He didn’t care for Mrs. Hennessy much, not simply because she was Burke’s wife, but because she was such a fake. Probably why she and his ex, Kathleen, had gotten along so well.

And still, she didn’t take her gaze from him. Out of a morbid sense of humor, he lifted a hand and waved.

Her right brow rose and she deliberately ignored him, turning her gaze on the nanny.

Why the woman needed a nanny was beyond him. She didn’t work and didn’t seem to have any responsibilities that he could see.

Speaking of nannies, Demi surprised him and stepped out of the Sugar Plum Café instead of The Reading Nook and headed his way. He tried to forget about the pair across the park.

But the hair on the back of his neck rose as he continued to feel their stares. He reminded himself not to let their snide glances and whispered words affect him.

But a small part of him wanted to stomp across the park and demand they cease their nasty gossip. Instead, he took a deep breath and watched Demi approach. The concerned frown on her features told him that she’d picked up on his expression. With effort, he loosened his jaw and relaxed his shoulders.

Only to tense up again when Burke stepped into view. The man glanced at him and pursed his lips as though seeing something distasteful.

He said something to Christina and the nanny, then practically shouted, “Come on. It’s not safe for Georgina to play here. Apparently, they don’t screen the people who use this place and will allow murderers around small children.”