Evening Stars (2 page)

“I kind of am. Why?”

“I haven’t been to Pilates in a week,” Andi said. “It’s important I keep exercising. Would you go with me? It’s more fun when you’re along.”

“I can’t tonight, but Monday’s good.”

Andi smiled. “Thanks, Nina. You’re the best.”

“Give me a plaque and I’ll believe it.”

“I’ll order one today.”

* * *

Nina counted out the number of happy fruit and vegetable stickers she had. Just enough, but she would have to order more.

Since opening her practice, Andi had started a program of inviting local elementary school classes into her office as a field trip. Kids learned about a basic exam, were able to use the stethoscope and check their weight and height in a nonthreatening atmosphere. Andi’s goal was to make a visit to the doctor less stressful.

Nina handled the scheduling and conducted the tour. Each student left with a small goodie bag filled with the stickers, a small coloring book on different ways to exercise and a box of crayons.

Normally the gift bags were filled by their receptionist before the event, but she had forgotten the stickers last time, so Nina had taken over the task.

She was in the middle of lining up the open goodie bags for quick filling when her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket and checked the name, then pushed speaker and set it on the break-room table.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetheart! How are you? We’re fine, but you were right, as you usually are.”

Nina grabbed crayons from the big bag of them on the chair. “Right about what?”

“The tires. That we should have replaced them before we left. We had snow last night.”

Nina glanced out the window at the sunny skies. She could see a few clouds pilling up against the horizon. Rain later that afternoon, she thought.

“Where are you?”

“Montana. It was coming down like you wouldn’t believe. We had about four inches, and the tires just couldn’t handle it. We skidded off the road. We’re fine now. Bertie found a Les Schwab store and the man there was just as nice as the one back home.”

Nina sank onto the only free chair in the break room. “You were in a car accident?”

“No. We skidded. Not to worry. We’re fine. The new tires are very nice. We went to several estate sales and more antique stores than I can count. We’re filling the van with so many beautiful things. You’re going to love what we’ve found.”

She kept talking. Nina closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, telling herself that her commitment to eat her brownies one at a time had not made any reference to wine, and when she got home that night, she was taking a bath and having a glass. Then she’d have her breakdown.

Bonnie Wentworth had given birth to her oldest at sixteen. She hadn’t settled down when she’d become a mother, and she sure wasn’t settled now. Bonnie and her partner, Bertie, traveled the country on “buying trips” for their antique store. Antique being defined very loosely in this case. Junk was probably more accurate, but even Nina avoided the “j” word as much as possible.

She drew in a breath as her mother talked about a handmade doll Bertie had found.

“Mom, Tanya was caught trying to sell inventory to Jerry this morning.”

Bonnie paused. “No,” she said, sounding stunned. “I don’t believe it.”

Nina resisted the need to point out that Bonnie never believing it was the main problem.

“This is why I want to do the interviewing. Or, if not me, then at least let Bertie do it.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t selling something of her own?” Bonnie asked. “She seemed like such a nice girl. I hate to think of her doing something like that.”

“Me, too. You know this means the store’s closed.” Again.

There was silence. “Do you want us to come back? We could be there in a couple of days.”

“No. I’ll find someone.”

Nina knew that if she asked, her mother would come home and run the store while they found someone. But then Nina would feel guilty, like she did now. And for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.

“Sweetheart, you take on too much.”

Nina opened her mouth and closed it. Right. Mostly because no one else was here to do it. “Mom, it’s fine. But we need someone in the store who’s responsible and can work without stealing.”

“You’re right. There must be someone, and I’m sure you’ll find her.”

“I will. Did you call on the roof? Is the guy coming out to fix it?”

“I did call.” Her mother sounded triumphant. “It’s taken care of.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

“I’ll call in a few days. By then we should know when we’ll be home. Bye.”

Nina heard the click and knew her mother had hung up. Before she returned to the goodie bags, she called the local paper.

“Hi, Ellen, it’s Nina Wentworth.”

The old woman cackled. “Let me guess. You need someone to work at Blackberry Preserves. I have the information from the last ad, which is the same as the one before and the one before that. Want me to run it?”

Nina glanced out the window again. The storm clouds were closer. She could see a bit of the Sound and wondered if she got on a boat right now, where she would end up.

“That would be great,” she said instead. “Thanks, Ellen.”

“You know, Nina, you’ve got to stop letting your mama hire people for that store.”

Nina tightened her grip on the phone. “Yes, I know.”

* * *

Nina stared at the items in the box. The candlesticks were silver and actually worth something. There were also several pieces of jewelry, a few with gems. The painting was a cheap reproduction and worth less than the frame, but still...

Jerry nodded as she inventoried the haul. “I was thinking the same thing,” he told her. “How could a girl smart enough to know what to steal be dumb enough to come to me? Why didn’t she just drive over the bridge and head toward Seattle? Another forty minutes in the car and she could have had the cash and been on her way.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she admitted. “But I’m glad she was impatient. Was Sam Payton by?”

“Yup. He took pictures. He said he needs to know what the candlesticks are worth.” Jerry, a chubby, balding man in his sixties, nodded knowingly. “If it’s over five grand, then Miss Tanya has committed a Class B felony. If she gets the maximum, it’s a ten year prison sentence with a twenty thousand dollar fine.”

“You’re very knowledgeable about felonies and the law.”

“In my business, it pays to know that sort of thing.”

Nina picked up the box of items from the store. “I’m going to have to call Sam, aren’t I? He’s going to tell me I can’t sell these until the case against Tanya is settled, right?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Jerry told her.

Great. So the only items of value in the store were now going to be held hostage. She started for the door. “Thanks, Jerry.”

“You’re welcome. Hire better people.”

“I’ll do my best.”

He buzzed the door so she could get out.

Nina crossed the small parking lot and opened her trunk. As she walked around to the driver’s side, she felt the first drops of rain.

Although the house was only a few blocks away, she was going to have to go by the store and put up a sign explaining it would be closed for the next few days. She should also see what else might have been stolen. This may not have been Tanya’s first attempt. Tomorrow she would talk to Sam and find out what charges were being brought against the former employee.

Nina started her car and headed for the bay. Blackberry Preserves might not be classy, but it had a killer location, right across from the small beach. In the summer, there was lots of tourist traffic, which was what helped the business survive the slower winter months. But this time of year—

Two things happened at once. The rain went from light to pounding, and her car engine died. Completely.

Not sure what to do, Nina steered to the side of the road and pulled onto the shoulder before she lost all momentum. After putting the car in gear, she started it again, or tried to. The engine turned over, but wouldn’t catch. She checked the fuel, and her tank was just over half-full. What on earth?

Beyond how to put in gas and where to take it for service, what she knew about cars and their systems could fill a shot glass and still leave room for the shot. She was stuck.

She glanced down at her shirt. “You’ve failed me, Betty.”

The cartoon didn’t answer.

Nina got out her cell phone only to see she was in one of the dead spots on the island. Between the somewhat-isolated location and the hilly terrain, there were cell phone wastelands, with no signal to be had.

So much for phoning a friend or Mike’s Auto Repair. Because while Mike would come get her and give her a lift home, he wasn’t psychic.

She leaned her head back and tried to tell herself that a walk in cold rain wouldn’t kill her. She only needed to get to a part of the island with a signal. Later, when she got home, she would have that bath and glass of wine. But being rational didn’t take away her desire to scream or cry. Or just once want to hand this problem over to someone else. But there wasn’t anyone else, there was her.

She couldn’t remember a time when it hadn’t been her. She’d been taking care of her mother since she’d been old enough to ask, “Mommy, are you okay?” She’d taken care of her baby sister and the family business, and now she was still doing it all. Worrying about the store, picking up crap stolen by employees her mother had hired and...

She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and tried to shake it. “Drive, you stupid car! Drive!”

She stopped when her hands started to hurt, then separated her car key from the house keys on the chain and tucked the car key under the driver’s seat. Then she put her purse over her shoulder and stepped out into the rain. She was soaked in a matter of seconds.

The good news was, if anyone she knew drove by, he or she would stop and give her a lift home. The bad news was, it was dinnertime on a very small island and the odds of rescue were slim.

Nina started the long walk toward some kind of signal. With each step she told herself this was good. Forced exercise. Plus shivering burned calories. It wasn’t cold enough that she had to worry about hypothermia. But her clothes clung to her in a way that wasn’t flattering, and her pants were rubbing on her thighs. She was pretty sure she was going to get a rash. That would be attractive. Too bad she wasn’t a blogger, because this would make for a great blog. She could title it Nina Wentworth’s Very Bad Day.

Fifteen minutes later, Nina had started working through the five stages of grief. She’d quickly moved from denial to anger and thought that might be a good place to stay. Her entire body was chilled except for the friction where her thighs rubbed together. She was shaking, dripping and more miserable than she’d ever been in her life. She checked her cell, but there still wasn’t a signal. At this rate, she would be home before she picked up reception.

She heard a car coming up behind her and turned quickly. She didn’t care who it was—she would happily get in with a stranger, if necessary. Not that there were many on the island this time of year.

She squinted against the rain, trying to figure out if she recognized the vehicle. It was blue and shiny. A new BMW, she thought, as the car slowed. No one she knew drove one of those. The driver pulled up next to her and rolled down the passenger window.

“Hey, are you—” The man stared at her for a second. “Nina?”

Although she’d been reaching for the door handle, now she pulled back. The unfairness of the situation made her want to raise her hands to the sky and ask what she could possibly have done to deserve this.

“Nina?” he asked again. “You’re soaked. Get in. I’ll take you home.”

But she couldn’t, she thought, staring into those green eyes, remembering how they’d softened when he’d promised he would love her forever. Only he hadn’t. Dylan Harrington instead had abandoned her and their forever love his third year of college. He’d left the island and never come back. Well, he’d visited his family occasionally. But he’d never bothered with her again. Not once. Worse, he’d said
she
was the reason he’d ended the relationship. Yet another person in her life who had been unwilling to take responsibility for his actions.

“Nina, get in. It’s freezing.”

“I’d rather walk,” she said and turned away.

Lifting her head proudly, ignoring the rain stinging her eyes and the burning of her chafed thighs, she proceeded to do just that.

Chapter Two

“NINA, GET IN the car.”

She wanted to ignore him. Really she did. But his tone was insistent, and the Dylan she remembered had a way of taking matters into his own hands.

She closed her eyes and wished him away. But the steady hum of the car creeping alongside proved that plan didn’t have much chance of working.

“Do you know how ridiculous this is?” he asked loudly.

Unfortunately, she did. She also knew that in the end she would get in the car because she couldn’t stand to be this wet and cold any longer. But why did it have to be him? Why not some well-dressed, quiet serial killer? Other people got strangled, but not her. Nooooo. She got the ex-love of her life.

“Fine,” she said, turning and walking over to the passenger side. The door opened smoothly, and she plopped her wet self on the leather seat.

For a second she was engulfed in the scent of new-car smell and the warmth blasting from heating vents. Bliss, she thought, pushing her dripping hair out of her face. Then she turned and once again met Dylan’s green eyes.

His expression was an uncomfortable combination of concern and amusement. Damn him, she thought. Whenever he had crossed her mind over the past decade, she’d envisioned their first meeting would be something she could plan for. That she would be perfectly dressed and answer questions with smooth but subtle one-liners that would leave him impressed by her wit and chagrined about letting her go. She hadn’t thought she would be dripping wet and fighting thigh-burn.