Authors: Mariah Stewart
“I think you’re under some sort of spell.”
“Seriously. ‘I would do anything to be released from this fear.’ ‘What dark forces have inflicted this evil on me?’ Doesn’t that sound like someone who thinks she’s been cursed?”
“Maybe.” Steffie thought it over. “If she did, maybe that’s why she started studying … oh, listen to me. I’m starting to sound like you.”
“Think for a minute. If you don’t know what agoraphobia is, and you’re afflicted with it, how would you explain it, even to yourself?”
“That’s a reasonable question.”
“Why, thank you,” Vanessa said drily.
“It would be interesting to know when Alice first started to be fearful of leaving her house.” Stef ignored the sarcasm. “Was this the only diary you found?”
Vanessa nodded. “But there could be more. There
are so many trunks in that attic, Stef. I’ve gone through maybe half of them, but there are more.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Miss Grace if she remembers how old Alice was when she stopped going outside.”
“I’ll try to remember to take this”—Vanessa held up the diary—“to the shop tomorrow.”
“Well, give it here. Daniel’s making copies of some of the pictures that Miss Grace took at the party. She said she’d drop them off in the morning.”
“It’ll be interesting to see what she has to say about Alice’s mystery lover.” Vanessa passed over the diary and Steffie dropped it into her bag.
“It may not have been a mystery to Miss Grace.”
“True enough,” Vanessa agreed.
“So how should we scare ourselves silly?” Stef pointed to the stack of DVDs.
“Let’s do the scariest one first and get it out of the way.”
“Which one would that be? They’re all pretty scary. Do we want to be up all night, too terrified to sleep? Or do we want to be able to get into our respective shops on time tomorrow?”
“Hmm. Good question. One I hadn’t thought through. Usually scary movies are okay during the week when Grady’s here, which is generally the only time I watch them.” Vanessa pondered their dilemma. “He won’t be back until tomorrow, though.”
“Wade either.”
Vanessa’s head swiveled in Stef’s direction. “Wade’s coming home tomorrow?” Vanessa’s foot gave Stef’s thigh a punch. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Stef shrugged. “I’m trying not to make too much of it. He’s coming back to pick up all his stuff.”
“What did he say about the job?”
“The job’s perfect, the child care is perfect, and the house he found is perfect.”
“Oh, well,
damn.
” Vanessa frowned. “Well, we can skip the scary for a minute and we’ll just make a fire and snack and drink. You decide.” She got up and searched the mantel. “Grady laid the fire before he left so that all we had to do was light it.”
“Grady’s a hell of a guy.” Steffie looked through the stack of movies and settled on
Ghostbusters
.
“Isn’t he? I don’t think I ever loved anyone in my life the way I love him, you know?”
“I do.” Steffie hugged her pillow to her chest and watched Ness start the fire. “I think I do …”
“Is the L-word rattling around in your brain?” Vanessa stopped and turned around to stare at Stef.
Stef nodded. “I’m beginning to fear it might be so.”
“Wow. Just … wow.”
“Yeah.” Stef nodded and reached for the champagne bottle to open it. “Wow.”
“Did you tell him that while you were … you know, the other night?”
“Are you crazy? You don’t tell a guy who’s leaving town that you’re in love with him. It’s against the rules. Everyone knows that.”
“So you’re just going to let him go off and make a life for himself someplace else, without you?” With the fire going, Vanessa returned to the sofa and plopped down. “Without telling him?”
Stef nodded. “I don’t have much of a choice.”
“I’ll bet a guy made up that rule.” Vanessa studied a fingernail. “So what are you going to do?”
“Well, you have a fire going, so I’m going to make s’mores.” Stef handed the bottle to Vanessa and went into the kitchen. “And then I’m going to get drunk on champagne and watch
Ghostbusters
till I pass out.”
“I like it.” Vanessa nodded and filled both glasses with champagne. “Count me in.”
“My, but don’t we look a tad ragged this morning.” Tina studied Steffie’s eyes.
“Stop shouting.” Stef opened the refrigerator in the back room. “No Pepsi. Tina, if you’d run up to Sips and get me a very large Pepsi—lots of ice—it would save your job.”
“How do you figure?”
“This headache is going to kill me. Without me, there is no Scoop. No Scoop, no job for Tina.”
“You told Claire she could have it if you died. She’s my sister. She’ll have to hire me.”
Steffie gave her a withering look.
“Okay. One very large Pepsi, lots of ice.”
“Run like the wind, T.”
“I’m on it.” Tina put on her jacket. “By the way, what were you drinking?”
“Champagne. It looked so benign in those pretty girly glasses that Vanessa has, you know?”
Tina laughed and left the shop, Steffie calling after her, “Hurry back.”
Steffie couldn’t remember the last time she flat-out did not feel like making ice cream. She checked the freezer and thought maybe she had enough to hold her over till tomorrow. She felt like absolute death, but Vanessa had had her sleepover, and truth be told, a headache was a small price to pay to have heard her
friend say, “I don’t feel at all bad about not having been invited to any sleepovers when I was a kid, because no one I knew back then was as much fun as you are.”
“Nicest thing anyone ever said to me,” Stef muttered, and looked out the front window.
A few sailboats had braved the morning’s chill to head into the Bay, and they skipped briskly across the water. The sun erupting from behind the clouds all but blinded her, and she fumbled in her bag for her sunglasses. She was still wearing the shades when Tina returned.
“Thank you. You may have saved my life.” Stef reached for the paper container and took a long drink.
“Better?” an amused Tina asked.
“It will be,” Stef told her. “Give it time.”
By eleven, Stef felt almost normal, and since they’d served exactly one person all morning, she told Tina she could take the afternoon off if she wanted.
“Normally I’d stay,” Tina told her as she gathered her things, “but I do have a few errands I’d like to run, so I’m just going to say thank you as I head out.”
“Enjoy the afternoon.”
The shop was very quiet with Tina gone and no customers and not even the sound of an ice-cream maker running in the back room. Stef was thinking maybe she’d make something after all when she remembered Alice Ridgeway’s diary. She took it out of her bag and flipped through it as she searched for Grace’s phone number on her cell. Something fell from the back of the book and landed on the table. Stef put the phone down and carefully picked up the
dried bit of vegetation. Once upon a time, it had been some sort of flower. She stared at it for a long moment, then realized what it was, and what it meant.
Son of a gun.
She was just about to call Vanessa to tell her what she found—and what it meant—when the bell over the door rang. She turned just as a small voice called, “Steppie!”
“Why, Austin MacGregor, is that you?”
“Austin.” He nodded, then pointed to Wade. “Daddy.”
“Hello, Austin.” She smiled. “Hello, Austin’s daddy. That must have been one heck of an early flight.”
“It was. Crack of dawn. We came right here from the airport. Austin couldn’t wait to see you.” He ran one hand up her arm. “And neither could I.”
“I’m glad.” She forced the words out, not totally sure how they’d be received, but Vanessa was right. She needed to speak her mind. “I missed you, Wade.”
“I missed you, too.”
“Eem!” Austin stood on his tiptoes and tried to peer into the case. “Steppie, eem.”
“What kind would you like?” She picked him up so he could see into the cooler, and couldn’t resist smoothing down his dark curls.
“That.” He pointed to the chocolate.
“Chocolate it is.” She carried him to a table, one hand snagging a child’s seat. “Let’s sit you down here with your daddy and I’ll get your ice cream.”
“Yay!” Austin clapped his hands.
Wade settled Austin into his chair, then took the seat next to him.
“Wade, do you want something while I’m back here?” she called to him.
“I’m good for now.”
Stef brought Austin his ice cream, a spoon, and a pile of napkins, which she handed over to Wade. “Just in case.”
“Do you have time to sit with us for a few minutes?” Wade asked.
“Sure.” She pulled out the chair next to Wade. “We’re really slow today.”
“I guess you saw the photos from last weekend,” he said.
Stef nodded. “I couldn’t believe all the newspapers and magazines and TV pieces that were done on that party. Though I must say, I’m happy the photographers got my best side.”
“You have no bad side.” He reached for her hand and covered it with his own.
“Now, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were coming on to me.”
“I am coming on to you.”
“Too bad you couldn’t have brought Angela back with you.” Stef ran a finger up the side of his face and he caught it with his hand.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his eyes watching hers.
“Painting. Feel free to join in.”
“I’ll do that.”
“So tell me all about Oak Grove and your new job,” she said. “It sounds like everything is going perfectly for you.”
“It’s a dream job. All of the fun of brewing and concocting new beer flavors and none of the headaches
because all Ted wants me to do is brew. He does a lot of things the same way I used to do them. Actually, he said he studied our business model while setting up his company.”
“That’s quite a compliment,” Steffie noted.
“It is.” Wade nodded. “And Mrs. Worth couldn’t be more perfect if Dallas had cast her. She loves the kids and has all kinds of fun activities for them. Her assistants are a couple of college kids who are majoring in early childhood education. Maizie and Fern. They’re really energetic and the kids seem to have a great time. Austin had a ball both days he spent there.”
“Did you find a house that you loved?”
“Oh, yeah. Stone, four bedrooms, three baths, a big kitchen, big fenced-in lot. And like I said on the phone, the neighborhood’s terrific.”
“Well, then, it sounds as if you’re all set.” Stef tried really hard to smile.
The bell over the door rang, and Stef looked up as Greg came into the shop. She smiled and waved, and Wade looked over his shoulder to see who was coming in.
Later, in retrospect, Steffie wasn’t sure if Wade’s first reaction had been one of shock or of fury. His face had gone white, then his jaw clenched and his eyes went dark.
“Well, hello there, little guy.” Greg went right to Austin, who was feeding himself chocolate ice cream sometimes with the spoon, and sometimes with his hands.
“Get away from him.” Wade’s voice was low, but
there was no mistaking the deadly threat. “Don’t touch him.”
“Wade, what’s going on?” Stef stood up. “How do you know Greg?”
“Greg?” Wade laughed out loud. “His name’s not Greg. And I think the real question is how do you know him?”
“He’s been in the shop a few times …,” Stef answered.
“Well, let me introduce you to Hugh Weston. At least that’s what he called himself when I knew him.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, looking at Hugh. “Why’d you tell me your name was Greg?”
“Because he was afraid I’d told you about him,” Wade replied while Hugh stood by looking smug. “Which I did. I just hadn’t mentioned his name.”
Without taking his eyes off the man, Wade said, “Stef, meet the man who drove KenneMac Brews into bankruptcy.”
I
THINK
I’d rather be known as this little guy’s daddy.” Hugh squatted down next to Austin’s chair. “What do you think, Steffie? Doesn’t this boy look just like his papa? And we both know we’re not talking about Wade.”
Hugh slid a chair back from the table, turned it around, and sat.
“You have ten seconds to get up and leave before I call the police,” Wade told him.
Hugh laughed. “I don’t think so.”
Wade started to stand, but Hugh locked his gaze and said, “Sit down, Wade. I’m going to outline for you the way I see this thing playing out.”
“Stef,” Wade said coolly, “do me a favor and take Austin in the back room.”
She lifted the child from his chair. “Come on, Austin. Let’s go see what we can find back there to play with.”
“Pretty girl.” Hugh’s eyes followed Steffie to the door. “Real pretty girl. You always did have pretty girls around you. I always thought you were cool that way.”
“Aren’t you going to ask how Robin is?”
“No, because I know she’s dead. Shame, isn’t it? Smart, beautiful thing like her, wasting away like she did.” Hugh leaned on the chair back. “I did my homework, Wade. I know that you married Robin just before she died. I figured out that’s why you have the boy.”
He took a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Must be nice to be a celebrity, get your picture on all the magazine covers.” He unfolded the paper and tossed it onto the table in front of Wade. “If it wasn’t for this”—he tapped a finger on the photo—“I’d have never known about the little guy. What a tragedy, huh, never to know about your own flesh and blood? But thanks to …” He turned the page around and glanced down. “Thanks to Todd Litchfield, who snapped this picture, I’ve found my son.”