Carol Higgins Clark Boxed Set - Volume 1: This eBook collection contains Zapped, Cursed, and Wrecked. (44 page)

As Pippy finished plumping the pillows, Ellen came from the back with two mugs of fresh coffee. “With this weather I don’t think we’ll have too many people wandering in today. At least we can get other work done around here,” she said as she flipped on the radio.

“Late-breaking news,” the anchor began. “This storm has caused a lot of destruction on the Cape. Just in is a report of a woman whose body is believed to have been swept out to sea. Her name is Adele Hopkins and—”

Ellen and Pippy stared at each other.

“I can’t believe it!” Pippy said. “Remember when—”

Ellen waved her hand frantically. “Wait! I have to tell you
something. Last night after you had fallen asleep I was doing work on the computer. Our website received an anonymous e-mail about a horrible rowing coach named Adele Hopkins. We get people venting about others who’ve been mean to them, but this one was really bad. It gave me the creeps. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was talking about our Adele Hopkins.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Pippy asked excitedly.

“You were asleep!”

“Show it to me now!” Pippy yelped as they both ran to the back office.

Adele couldn’t believe how good it felt to be with a man who wanted to take care of her. She’d deliberately isolated herself these last six months, needing time to be alone after her divorce. All the things her husband had said to her, about how none of his friends or family could ever stand her, had been so cruel. “So why did you stay in the marriage for ten years?” she’d demanded. “It’s not as if we had children.”

“I must have been insane,” he’d replied.

“Is there someone else?” she’d asked.

“I wish!”

She’d fled to the Cape, where she knew you could keep to yourself without people thinking you’re strange. Not that it was easy. Those two sisters who lived on the block would drive anyone crazy. Adele didn’t want to spend two minutes with them. All she wanted to do was spend her days regaining a sense of self and figure out how to make amends with the people she’d hurt.

“Here you go,” Floyd said, his fingers grazing hers as he extended a mug of tea. She was curled up on the couch, enjoying the fire, experiencing a feeling of peace that had eluded her for what seemed like forever.

“Thank you,” she said, curling her hands around the cup, relishing its warmth.

Floyd sat down in the rocking chair nearby. He was so sweet and caring, but at the same time had a powerful presence that was exciting. “Feeling better?” he asked kindly.

“Much. Although I am a bit woozy.”

He stared at her. “I’m not surprised. You could have drowned,” he said. “Drowned!”

Adele blinked. “I know. I don’t think it’s hit me yet.”

Floyd nodded. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I’d rather hear about you,” Adele said flirtatiously. “I’ve been living here alone for several months and I’m sick of myself.”

His eyes crinkling, Floyd laughed. “Don’t say that. You’re a charming woman. I can tell.”

“Tell me about you,” she said, sipping the tea. “You must miss your wife.”

“My wife?”

“Yes, when you mentioned her before I could just tell that you were close.”

“Of course. You had me distracted.”

Adele smiled. She was starting to feel a little uneasy. “What was she like?”

“She was a horrible woman.” His eyes darkened and his voice took on an eerie tone. “A creature from the depths.”

A pit developed in Adele’s stomach, which she tried to ignore. “I didn’t get that impression from you.”

Floyd didn’t answer. A shadow passed over his face. Suddenly he stood. “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,” he boomed. “Have you ever heard that before?”

“As a matter of fact I have,” Adele said as she struggled to
her feet. No wonder I opted for isolation, she thought. Most people are nuts. I’ve got to get out of here.

“Why are you getting up? Don’t you want to hear me recite the whole speech?” he asked angrily.

“Another time. I’d better get home.”

“Why?”

“I think I left something on the stove.”

He came toward her, his arms outstretched.

Adele tried to run.

“You’re not leaving me!” he cried, grabbing her around the waist. He lifted her, carried her across the room, then dragged her down the basement steps. She tried to break away but it was useless. He was so strong. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t listen to me recite my lines!” he whined.

“I will. Please. Just let me go. I’ll listen to the whole speech. Every last word.”

“Too late now.” He threw her down on a chair, grabbed a coil of rope that was hanging on the wall, and tied her up. In the corner was a radio, which he turned on, adjusting the volume until it was blaring. “There,” he said. “No one will hear you if you scream for help. I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?” Adele asked desperately.

“Rehearsal. At least people there want to hear me perform.”

When Regan and Jack went back to the Reillys’, there were no messages on the answering machine, and they were amazed to find the house empty. But any fleeting fantasy that perhaps their visitors had found other lodging was dashed when they read the note that Fran and Ginny had left on the kitchen table.

Dear Regan and Jack
,

Skip is on such a guilt trip about not picking Mrs. Hopkins up and possibly saving her life (if she wasn’t already dead that is), that he actually offered to board up our front window. We couldn’t believe it—because we know he can’t stand us. We are going to the store with him so we can pay by credit card and get our miles. After expressing our gratitude we asked if we could wait until you got back as we were dying to hear about what you discovered in the Carpenters’ home. Apparently Skip’s desire to ease his conscience only goes so far. He said now or never. The man is a quivering wreck. Since we couldn’t reach anyone at the window place we figured we better take him up on his offer before our house is ruined. So we’re off to the lumber store. See you soon, we hope. XO Fran
and Ginny. P.S. Any thoughts about dinner? Skip will be joining us. We told him it’s no time for him to be alone and that he should spend the night. We’ll cook
.

Regan and Jack looked at each other.

“I feel so sorry for him.” Regan pulled a chair out and sat at the kitchen table. “The house is so peaceful. . . . This is the first minute we’ve been alone since you left to go to the market.”

“It’s hard to believe that was just a few hours ago.”

“There’s something that happened while you were gone that I haven’t had a chance to tell you. When I opened the curtains in the bedroom this morning, Skip was right there outside the window. He jumped back and claimed he was checking for leaks. I was so startled. That’s why when I heard you come in I went charging down the hall.”

Jack’s eyes twinkled. “It wasn’t because you missed me so much? Regan, you’re breaking my heart.”

“Very funny. I’m telling you, Jack, even though the window was shut and the wind was howling, it was creepy.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“Then to have those two blabbermouths making fun of me. I’m sure they’ll never stop telling that story.”

Jack’s face lit up. “I think I’m going to like having everyone on Cape Cod think that you come racing to greet me every time I walk through the door. It’s good for my image.” He leaned down and put his arms around her, leaning his head on her shoulder.

Regan smiled. “You have no problem with your image,” she said, tousling his hair. “But this show of affection makes me nervous.”

“Why?”

“I’m certain those two are going to magically reappear.”

“We wanted to get going anyway.”

Regan sighed. “Seeing all those apology cards was really sad. Adele Hopkins was trying to make amends, and then she dies like that, when she might have been saved? I am so curious to find out who she was.”

“I am too. Let’s hope the Carpenters call back soon. Listen, for all we know Hopkins could have been a career criminal who saw the light and came up here to repent. She might be sending cards to people she cheated in some way or it could date back to a time she stole from a friend’s piggybank.”

“The poor woman is dead, Jack.”

“I know. But I doubt she won any popularity contests. What we found over there raises a lot of questions. And,” he added, dramatically pointing his finger, “she was unfriendly to my father.”

“Not good!” Regan said with a smile. “Jack, I was thinking . . . If Hopkins was trying to stay undercover and guard her privacy, for whatever reason, it must have been positively galling for her when she realized she’d rented down the block from Fran and Ginny.”

“Can you imagine?” Jack said with a slight laugh. “Every time she got in her car she had to pass their house. She had to pretend not to notice when they tried to flag her down.”

Regan looked at the clock on the wall. “Hopefully the Carpenters aren’t out of town. With any luck, they’ll be able to answer all our questions in two minutes.”

“If that’s the case, then let’s leave tomorrow,” Jack said.

Regan shook her head. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because of Skip. I’d feel terrible walking out on him now. Besides, I just have the feeling there’s not going to be a simple explanation about anything having to do with Hopkins.” She stood. “Let’s run over to the pillow store. A good customer like Hopkins should be hard to forget.”

“I also wouldn’t mind getting some breakfast,” Jack said. “Neither one of us has eaten anything this morning.”

“That’s because you gave Ginny my blueberry muffin.”

“You should be happy that she enjoyed every last bite,” Jack said as he reached for the phone. “I’ll call the Carpenters’ house and leave my cell phone number on their machine. I left them the house number before and then their message machine cut me off.”

Regan pinched his cheek. “It didn’t hurt your feelings, I hope.”

“No. But I think I deserve one of those apology cards.”

“You deserve a pillow!” Regan turned and headed out of the kitchen. “I’ll get my coat and my watch and finish getting ready. I feel like I was half dressed when this day started going downhill fast.”

Jack looked again in the address book and dialed the Carpenters’ home. To his surprise, a breathless Dorie Carpenter answered the phone. “Whoever you are, hold on a second,” she said quickly, then dropped the phone. Jack could picture the petite bouncy woman, late forties, with short blond hair and a seemingly perpetual tan. Having grown up in Boston, she had been coming down to the Cape all her life. An outdoorsy type, she loved tennis, golf, and swimming. From the time Dorie was married, she and her husband, Dan, had always rented a cottage for two weeks in the summer.

Several years ago they’d had the good fortune to hear from a friend about a man who was about to put his house on the
market and was most anxious for it to sell quickly. His asking price was low because he didn’t want the process to drag on, with people traipsing in and out of his home, looking through his closets and complaining about what they didn’t like. He’d make a healthy profit no matter what, because he’d lived there for so many years and the house had gone up significantly in value.

Dorie, being Dorie, didn’t waste a second. She got the address of the house, dragged Dan off the golf course, drove over, and rang the bell. The owner admired Dorie’s pluck. Even though it stretched their budget to the limit, Dorie and Dan—especially Dorie—knew they’d be crazy to pass up the chance to own waterfront property at such a reasonable price. They’d never get an opportunity like this again. They took the plunge, making the deal that afternoon. To Jack’s mother’s credit, she was able to become friends with them even though she’d never get over letting that house slip through her fingers.

“I’m back,” Dorie bubbled. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Jack responded. “This is Jack Reilly. Is that you, Dorie?”

“Yes! Hi there! I just got home from the grocery store,” she said quickly, catching her breath, “and the front door blew open after I closed it. This rain is terrible. How are you?” she asked, her nerves quickening. She knew he wouldn’t be calling to just chat.

“I’m okay,” Jack answered. “Regan and I came up to the Cape for the weekened to celebrate our anniversary—”