“Are you sure?” she prodded.
“I didn’t come here to talk about me.”
“I didn’t think you did. But since my life is rather depressing at the moment, I thought you might distract me.”
He sat in the chair across from her. “Ned Jamison decided to take his boat out a couple of hours ago. I had to chase him down, bring him back.”
“It’s so sad what’s happening to him. Some decisions will have to be made soon. I don’t think he can continue living alone.”
“He’s not alone tonight.” Shane cleared his throat as he stared down at the floor. “Lauren came back.”
His words shocked her. “Really? I never thought that would happen. Have you talked to her?” She didn’t have to hear his answer to know that he had. That’s why he was so edgy. He’d just seen his ex-girlfriend, the one girl he’d never been able to forget.
Shane and Lauren had fallen hard for each other in high school. She’d spied on them kissing in front
of the house many times, and they’d always had such a passion for each other. Shane had gone out with a lot of girls, but Lauren had been different. He’d treated her like she was something special. Then their love had come to a crashing, horrifying end with Abby’s death. Kara didn’t know all that had gone down between them, but they’d both left Angel’s Bay for a very long time.
“Lauren went with me to chase down her father,” Shane said.
“What’s she like now?”
He shrugged.
“Beautiful brunette with dark blue eyes and an incredible smile?” she prodded.
He inclined his head. “You could say that.”
“I bet you could say more,” she said with a little smile. “You had such a thing for her.”
He frowned, his jaw setting in a hard, familiar line. “A long time ago, and it didn’t end well.”
“Are you sure it ended?”
“Absolutely.” He paused. “She’s different now. Older, harder . . . she had on business clothes. She looked like a damned lawyer.”
“I can’t picture Lauren as a lawyer. Do you know what she does for a living?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Kara sighed. “You are the most frustrating man to get information from. How long will she be in town?”
“As long as it takes to convince her father to
move to San Francisco with her.”
Kara raised an eyebrow. “That might take forever. Mr. Jamison loves this town.”
“That’s what I told her. Lauren doesn’t know her father at all anymore.”
“This could be her opportunity to reconnect. I hope she doesn’t waste it. Since Colin has been lying here, I’ve thought about all the things I wish I’d said to him when I had the chance. If—when he wakes up, I’m going to talk his ears off.”
“That won’t be anything new,” Shane said with a half smile as he got to his feet.
She made a face at him. “Ha ha.”
“Can I get you anything before I go?”
“No, I’m fine. So what are you going to do about Lauren?”
“Nothing. I doubt I’ll see her again. I’m the last person she wants to spend time with.”
“This is a small town.”
“Believe me, I won’t have to avoid her. She’ll be avoiding me.”
As Shane left, Kara turned toward Colin and smiled. “Oh, honey, you really need to wake up now. Shane and Lauren are finally in the same place at the same time, and that can only mean trouble.”
Lauren’s hand shook as she set her father’s cup of tea on the kitchen table in front of him. After their first awkward greeting he’d finally recognized her, and they’d returned to the house together. Since then
she’d busied herself making him tea while she tried to figure out what to say next.
It had been five years since they’d seen each other, and that had been a brief evening when he’d stopped in San Francisco during a weeklong fishing trip with his buddies. They’d had dinner, shared some conversation and a hug good-bye, and that had probably been the longest they’d spent together in the past decade.
Her father lifted the cup to his lips and took a long sip. “This is nice and hot. I’ve been feeling a chill in my bones the last few days. Summer is over, and I never cared much for fall—it means winter isn’t far behind.”
Another way they were different, Lauren thought. The winter weather hurt her father’s fishing business, so she’d grown up hiding the fact that she secretly loved a really good storm—with the wind howling, the rain pounding against the windows, and the air cold enough to bake up sweet, hot desserts that would warm from the inside out.
She watched her father for a moment, noting the little details of age: the sunspots on his hands, the new wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, the weariness of his posture. When she was growing up, he’d been the force around whom they’d all revolved. He had less substance now, like a once-bright picture that was fading around the edges. Had living alone all these years been hard on him? Not that she should care. It had been his choice.
“Dad, do you remember what you did tonight?”
she asked.
“I went for a ride with Shane,” Ned replied. “He loves the sea as much as I do. It’s in his blood.”
“Actually, you went out on your boat by yourself. Shane and I followed you, and then Shane jumped onto your boat and brought you back. Do you remember?”
“How’s your mother?” he asked, changing the subject. “Is she still married to that accountant? I bet he’s a barrel of fun.”
“Mom is fine and so is her husband. They live in the wine country now.”
“What’s David up to?”
“He’s starting his senior year at Northwestern. I think he may be headed to law school after graduation.” She paused. “Dad, we need to discuss your illness. That’s why I’m here.”
“I’m fine,” he said with a breezy wave of his hand. “I just forgot to take my pills this morning. You don’t have to worry about me.”
If she hadn’t witnessed her father’s earlier confused behavior she probably would have believed him, because at the moment he seemed completely rational. But she couldn’t let herself forget what she’d seen.
“You’re not fine, Dad. You left the stove on. You could have set the house on fire. You’re not supposed to take the boat out anymore, and when you saw me on the dock, you didn’t even recognize me. You thought I was Abby.”
“It was dark.” His brows knitted together in a frown. “You’re making it sound worse than it was. I was coming back to make my tea. And I know the ocean like I know my own hand; I wasn’t in any danger. I was just taking a ride.”
“I’m not sure you would have recognized any potential danger.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Tell me what’s new with you. Are you still baking cookies?”
“No, I work as a corporate event planner at a hotel. I coordinate business meetings.”
“You’re not cooking?” His eyebrows rose. “I thought you wanted to run your own bakery.”
“Well, things changed. I know you don’t want to talk about your illness, but some of your neighbors have been in touch with Mom, and they don’t think you can continue to live here alone.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I’ve been doing some research, and I found a place three blocks from where I work.” She reached for her purse and pulled out the brochure for Bella Mar. “A lot of the rooms have a view of the San Francisco Bay. You’d be able to see the water just the way you do here.”
Her father didn’t take the brochure. “You want to put me away in some rest home?” His dark eyes filled with disappointment.
“It’s an assisted-living facility. You’d have an apartment, not just a room. There’s a restaurant downstairs and someone to cook your meals. More
important, I would be nearby. I could visit you all the time. When David comes home for vacations, he could stop in, too.”
“Neither you nor your brother have visited me once in the last thirteen years. Why would you start now?”
She fought to ignore that pointed comment. She needed to stay on track and not get tangled up in an argument about the past. “Please, just look at the brochure.”
“Was this your mother’s idea?” he asked suspiciously. “She’d love to see me locked up in some home.”
“It was my idea,” she replied, unwilling to create any more ill will between her parents. “And you wouldn’t be locked up. I want to take care of you, Dad.”
“I’m not your responsibility. But if you want to help, you could move back here. This is your home.”
She immediately shook her head. “I can’t live in Angel’s Bay, not after what happened. You know that.”
“And I can’t live anywhere else.” His gaze was direct, determined. “I was born here. My parents were born here, and every generation back for a hundred and fifty years. There has always been a Jamison in Angel’s Bay. And besides that, I won’t leave Abby here alone.”
A painful knot formed in Lauren’s throat. She didn’t have an argument to that. She hadn’t been to her sister’s grave since she’d watched them lower
the white casket into the ground, and she didn’t know if she could ever go back to the cemetery.
Maybe in saving herself, she’d forsaken her sister. But Abby was dead. And whether or not Lauren or her father was in Angel’s Bay wouldn’t change that fact.
“Don’t you ever miss this town?” Her father’s perplexed gaze searched her face. “This is where your memories are, where we were a family. We buried your goldfish in the backyard. You learned how to do cartwheels on the front lawn. We won the award for the best holiday lights the year we put Santa on the roof, remember? You and Abby used to play hopscotch on the front walk, and ride your bikes up and down the hills.”
Each reminder cut a little deeper; she almost felt as if she were bleeding. “Please, Dad. Don’t do this. Don’t try to make me feel bad.”
“I want you to remember the good times.”
“I don’t want to remember—because when I do, all I can see is pain and all I feel is sadness.” She drew in a deep shaky breath. “I just want to live where I am now.”
“Without a past? Without the memories? You have no idea how much you’ll regret that one day.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“You will,” he argued. “Because that’s exactly where I’m headed. The doctor tells me that one day I’ll be a blank slate. I won’t know who I am. I won’t remember anyone or anything in this town. I’ll exist, but I won’t be living. You’re choosing to forget—
and I’m desperate to hang on to my memories as long as I can.”
She’d never seen her father afraid, but he was now. He was moving toward a point that he wouldn’t be able to recover from, and it scared her, too. Though their relationship was uncomfortable and complicated, he was her father, and she didn’t want to lose him.
“I’ll tell you something, Lauren,” he added. “While I
can
remember, I’ll be here in this town. I’ll look at the sun setting over my piece of the ocean, I’ll smell the fish frying at the Crab Shack, and get my morning coffee at Dina’s Café and listen to Mort tell me about the biggest tuna he never caught. I’ll go up to the cemetery and put flowers on your sister’s grave and tell her what’s happening. And when the day comes that I turn into a zombie, and you want to cart me away and stick me in a closet somewhere, I won’t be able to stop you. But not now. Not yet.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Dad. I don’t know what else to do.”
Ned got to his feet and carried his teacup to the sink. “There’s nothing for you to do. I’m going to bed.”
She cringed at the cool note in his voice. She’d never known how to make him happy or proud, and tonight she’d completely failed him. But
he’d
made mistakes, too. Others might applaud him for staying with Abby, but she couldn’t forget that he’d just let his wife and his other two children go.
“Dad, we need to continue this discussion.”
“Tomorrow. I’m tired. You can sleep in your old room, if you want. I don’t expect you’ll be staying long.” As her father moved away, he knocked a pile of mail off the counter.
Lauren helped him collect the papers, noting the large pile of bills. Some were stamped second or final notice. Did her father know how to write a check anymore? She’d go through them after he went to bed.
As she set the pile on the counter, her gaze caught on two typed pages with a business card attached. It looked like a story outline of some sort. The first few sentences prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. “Dad, what’s this?” She skimmed the next paragraph, and her stomach turned over. “Oh, my God, this is about Abby.” She lifted her gaze to her father. “Is someone writing a book about her death?”
“It’s not a book; it’s a movie. A producer came to see me the other day. He’s been researching Abby’s murder.”
Lauren stared at her father in shock. How could he sound so calm? So matter of fact? “Why—why would anyone want to do that?”
“To find the truth and to get justice for your sister. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I want answers, too, but this isn’t the way to get them.”
“Nothing else has worked. The police haven’t
done anything in years.”
“Because there aren’t any leads to follow. This movie won’t suddenly create new clues.”
“It could. You never know.”
She didn’t want to kill the hopeful glint in his eyes, but she couldn’t stand the idea of someone making money off her sister’s death. “Dad, no. Think about it—a movie with actors and actresses playing you, me, and Abby and everyone else?” She shuddered. “Could you handle them recreating the night of her murder? Could you really?”
His expression grew troubled. “That doesn’t sound so good, but I want to know who killed her. I want to make him pay.”
“Some movie producer can’t solve Abby’s murder. That’s up to the police.” She ripped off the business card. “I’m going to call this Mark Devlin and tell him to stop.”
“He seems very determined.”
“Well, so am I.”
“Are you?” her father challenged, a sharp glint in his eyes. “That might require you to stay in Angel’s Bay, and you’re not willing to do that, are you? Not for me. Not for Abby. You’re all fire and righteous indignation now, but when it comes down to it, you’ll leave. You’ll tell yourself that you did your duty: you came to rescue your father and he refused to go, but you did your best. You even tried to stop them from making a movie about your sister’s life, but no one would listen to you. So what could you do but go back to living the life you live, without
any memories? Isn’t that what’s going to happen, Lauren?”