Tangled Up In You, page 21
"End what? You don't want a relationship with me. You've been saying that since we met."
"Maybe I'm changing my mind."
"Well, maybe I just want to have fun," she said.
"Then let's keep having fun. There's no rush to do anything else."
His words eased some of her tension. "Okay. I like the sound of more fun."
"So do I." He gave her a kiss. "I'll see you tonight. Why don't I bring dinner?"
"If you want," she said, helpless to say no to this man, which was why she should probably stop having fun and end this—whatever this was. But she just couldn't do it. Not yet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As the store slowed down late Monday afternoon, Molly grabbed the care package she'd put together earlier and walked down the street to Jackie's boutique. There was a stylishly dressed young woman organizing dresses on a rack.
She gave Molly a welcoming smile. "Hello. Are you looking for anything special?"
"No. I'm actually looking for Jackie."
"She had to step out. Do you want me to give her a message?"
"Actually, I'd like you to give her this." She handed the gift bag to the woman. "I'm Molly Trent. I run the shop next door, A Better You."
"I thought you looked familiar. I stopped by your sidewalk sale on Saturday, but you were helping someone else. I really like what you've done with the store. I'm Ariel Flint."
"Nice to meet you, Ariel." She was thrilled that Jackie's employee didn't seem to have a problem with her shop. "I'm glad you liked the shop. If you ever need anything, let me know."
"I'm actually interested in your yoga classes, but I noticed your schedule was pretty slim."
"I'm trying to get one of the former teachers back," she said, making a mental note to check with Elaine again. "I'll let you know when we add more classes."
"I'll make sure Jackie gets this."
"Thanks." As she left the boutique, she let out a breath. Step one in her plan to win Jackie over was done. Hopefully Jackie would look in the bag and not toss it out just knowing it was from her.
When she re-entered the store, she realized it was almost five, and there was no one around, so she went ahead and locked the front door, turning the sign to Closed. Adam had texted earlier that he'd be over around seven with dinner. And she was more than happy about that. Despite her morning panic, she wasn't ready to cut him off. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to spend more time with him. Just because something wasn't going to last forever didn't mean it couldn't last awhile longer.
Drew came out of the back room. "I just finished organizing that back wall," he said.
"I've been avoiding that."
"I noticed," he said with a gleam in his eyes. "But it's done."
"You really are a lifesaver, Drew." She paused. "You know, I've seen how excited you get when you're on the computer, when you're building something. Your mind is sharp. It wants to be busy. I know you're trying to figure out your next move in life. I hope you decide to lean into some of your talents. I'm sure you're a great partier, but you're other things, too."
"I guess," he muttered. "But it seems kind of boring to be a computer nerd."
"You don't have to be just one thing. Don't let people try to put you into some sort of box. And don't do that to yourself. Don't define yourself narrowly. You're a complex person. You have lots of talents. Embrace them all."
He shook his head in bemusement. "I have to say, I haven't met anyone like you, Molly. You're so comfortable in your own skin."
"I didn't grow up like everyone else. I had to be comfortable in my own skin, because everything else in my life was constantly changing: my homes, my friends, and the cities I lived in. You can roam around the world, but you're always with yourself, so I had to make peace with who I am."
"That makes sense, in a weird way."
She laughed. "I can be kind of weird, too." She paused as someone knocked on the front door. Looking through the glass window, she could see a man on the sidewalk.
"Do you want me to tell him we're closed?" Drew asked.
"No, I'll take care of it." She walked to the door and opened it. "I'm sorry. We're closing now."
"Ms. Trent?" he asked.
She looked at his unfamiliar face, at his nice suit, at the large canvas bag in his hands, and she suddenly realized who he was. "Oh, my God. You're George Marconi."
"Yes, Phoebe's lawyer. You were supposed to pick this up today."
"I'm sorry. I completely forgot." Her gaze moved to the open bag, where she could see a flash of gold. "Is that the urn?"
"Yes. I've also included the plastic bag that the hospital gave me with the clothes Phoebe was wearing when she was taken to the ER. I didn't know what else to do with them." His eyes filled with compassion. "I know this is difficult, but Phoebe wanted you to have her ashes until you knew what to do with them. I've included the note that I read you earlier."
"Okay." She swallowed hard. "I guess you should give her to me."
He handed over the canvas bag.
She held it in her arms, feeling the weight of the large gold urn. "Before you go, Mr. Marconi, I wanted to ask you about a missing diamond."
"A missing diamond?" he echoed. "Something that belonged to Phoebe?"
"No, it belonged to her friend Caroline. Apparently, it's missing, and a few people seem to think Phoebe has it. Did she ever mention it to you?"
"She did not. I would have made note of that in the items that you were inheriting. We went over jewelry and other valuable objects, and she had no individual piece of jewelry that was worth more than a hundred dollars, and most of it was considerably less." He paused. "Phoebe and I spoke a few days before she died, after Ms. Montgomery's death, but before she had gone through the items that Ms. Montgomery left her. If there's a diamond, it would be in the boxes that she had not yet opened."
"I'm still going through those. Caroline Montgomery's ex-husband is also asking me to let him look through the boxes. Actually, his attorney is asking me. Do I have to let him do that?"
"Absolutely not. Whatever Ms. Montgomery sent to Phoebe became Phoebe's property, which in turn became yours."
"That's good to know. I'm sure the attorney will keep pressing. Apparently, the diamond is worth over three million dollars."
"Would you like me to speak to the attorney?"
"No thanks. Not yet, anyway."
"Let me know if I can help." He took a breath. "My wife stopped by the store on Saturday. She said it looked amazing. She brought home a bag full of items, and she's been drinking tea, meditating, and sleeping better than she has in years. For some reason, she always thought Phoebe was full of hot air, but she said when she stepped in the store and spoke to you, she felt inspired."
"I had no idea I spoke to your wife, but it was crazy busy that day. I'm glad she's feeling good. That's what it's all about."
"Phoebe would be proud of you," he said with a nod. "She said there was only one person who could keep her legacy going."
"I'm still touched that she believed that. We hadn't seen each other in a long time."
"She felt close to you, as she indicated in her note."
"I was wondering about that note. It felt like she knew she was going to die. But she had a sudden heart attack. It was unexpected."
"Perhaps not completely unexpected. She was having problems with her heart several months ago. When her friend Caroline was ill, Phoebe started thinking a lot about her own plans. We sat down about a month ago, and she made her decisions."
"So it was very recent." She looked down at the urn. "I don't know where I should bury her, though. I don't understand why she didn't just tell me where to put her ashes."
"I don't know, either. But she seemed to believe the universe would deliver whatever answer was needed."
"Great. What about a memorial service? People have been asking me if there's going to be one, and I feel like there should be, but I don't know what she would have wanted."
"She didn't care about big ceremonies. But she did care about her friends. I don't suppose that helps, but she trusted you to make the decisions, so go with your gut."
"I will. Sorry again for making you come over here. I had it on my calendar, and then I didn't look at my phone. To be honest, I wasn't that excited to get this. It feels weird to know her ashes are inside."
He gave her a kind smile. "But her soul is flying. That's what she told me. She said when she was gone that she'd finally get to fly the way everyone thought she already could."
"No broom required," she said with a smile.
He grinned. "That's correct. Have a good night, Ms. Trent."
"Thanks." As he walked away, she stepped back into the store and relocked the front door. Then she took the bag over to the counter where Drew was waiting.
"You could have gone home," she told him.
"I just wanted to make sure you were all right."
"I appreciate that. I'm fine."
"So, what's in the urn, or do I not want to know?"
"Phoebe's ashes. I'm supposed to put them somewhere. Phoebe thinks I'll know the right place at some point."
"That's weird. She didn't just say where she wanted to be buried?"
"Nope. But she loved puzzles and challenging people. I guess we're playing one last game."
"What are you going to do with it? You're not going to leave it here in the store, are you?" he said with an uneasy look in his eyes.
"I'll take it upstairs."
"Good," he said with relief. "I'm going to take off then. See you tomorrow."
"See ya." She relocked the door after he left. Then she picked the bag up and moved into the back room. She checked the back door and then headed into the hallway and up the stairs to her apartment.
Once inside, she took the urn out of the bag and set it in the middle of the kitchen table. There was a folded note taped to the side of it. She opened it and read the short message that George Marconi had related to her over the phone.
But seeing Phoebe's handwriting made it all seem more real, and she had to blink the moisture out of her eyes before she could focus on the message: I know you'll figure out the best place for me to be, Molly. I trust you to do what's best. I know you'll take care of me. I always felt connected to you, like you were the daughter I never had. Even though our time together was brief, I loved you very much, and I want the best for you. I believe that's in Whisper Lake.
She wiped away a tear as she folded the note. She was touched and humbled that Phoebe had loved her so much and wanted the best for her. Now she had to do right by Phoebe. She looked at the urn and frowned. It felt wrong to put it on the table.
She tried a couple more spots, but they didn't feel right, either. Finally, she took it into the bedroom closet and put it on one of the shelves she'd recently cleared off. But that wouldn't work. She couldn't stick the colorful Phoebe in a closet.
"What am I going to do with you?" she muttered. "And I'm not talking just about right now, but about forever. Where do you want to be, Phoebe?"
There was no answer coming. She took the urn into the living room and put it on a table by the window.
"Now, at least you have a view." She felt a little silly to be talking to the urn. On the other hand, it made her feel closer to Phoebe. She sat down in the chair next to the table. "I was devastated when I heard you had died, Phoebe. It didn't seem possible. You were such a vibrant person. Even with all the time between us, I could still hear your laugh, smell your perfume, see your smile…and you were always in beautiful color. It's hard to believe you're not here anymore." She paused. "I do like the gold urn, though. You always loved gold."
She felt tears prick the back of her eyes once more. She hadn't had time to mourn Phoebe because she'd been so busy, or maybe she'd been busy so she wouldn't have time to grieve.
"I'm going to make you proud of me," she continued. "I've already got the store up and running. And we're making sales. There's an actual cash flow." She paused, gazing out at the street. "I do love Whisper Lake. I'm pretty sure you brought me back to stay. But I don't know if I can stay anywhere. I don't have relationships that last longer than a few months. I'm not sure I'd be any good at something longer. It's off with the old and on with the new. God, I sound like my mom now. Well, whatever happens, I'm going to keep the store going. Even if I leave, I'll put someone in charge. I'll never sell it. But it's too soon to make those kinds of decisions. I can almost see you shaking your head, telling me just to enjoy where I am."
She took a breath. "I don't know how well you knew Adam. But he's really something, Phoebe. He makes me feel things I've never felt before. It's scary. I don't do deep. I don't do love, you know. And it's funny because he doesn't think he wants to do love, either, but I think he does, and I think he should. Because he has a really big heart…"
"Anyway, that's enough for now. I'm kind of glad you're home. Is this what you were thinking? That I'd just bring you home?"
She thought about that for a long minute. "No, that seems too easy. You were a lot of things, Phoebe, but you were never easy. I hope I can figure out what you wanted. I'm definitely going to try."
With that, she stood up. She wasn't going to figure everything out tonight, and she wanted to take a shower before Adam arrived.
When Molly's doorbell rang just before seven, her heart leapt into her chest. She smiled to herself as she ran down the stairs to let Adam in. She couldn't believe how happy she was to see him again. The man had definitely gotten under her skin. She just had to make sure he didn't take over her heart, but that wouldn't be an easy task.
She threw open the front door, realizing her mistake a moment too late. The man standing in front of her was not Adam. He was at least ten years older, darker, and he had a tense look in his eyes.
"Molly Trent?" he asked.
"Yes," she said warily.
"I'm John Weatherly—Charles's son."
"Okay. If this is about the diamond, I don't have it. I can't help you."
"Are you sure?" He edged a little closer. "I know my stepmother packed a lot of shit before she died, and she wasn't all there mentally. The cancer treatments had taken their toll on her mind."
She held her ground, not letting him through the door. "I've looked through everything that Phoebe Haller received from Caroline Montgomery, and the diamond is not there." It wasn't the complete truth, but she didn't owe him that.
A grim look entered his eyes. "You better not be lying, Ms. Trent."
She swallowed hard. "Are you threatening me?"
"That diamond was given to my father."
"That's nothing to do with me." Relief ran through her as Adam's Jeep pulled up in front.
Adam got out of his vehicle and moved as quickly as he could in his walking boot. "Is there a problem?" he challenged.
"None of your business," John replied.
"I'm Detective Adam Cole," he said, pulling out his ID. "If I ask you if there is a problem, you answer. What's your name?"
"John Weatherly."
"He's Charles Weatherly's son. He's here about the diamond," she put in. "I told him I don't have it."
"She doesn't have it," Adam said, giving John a hard look. "I already told your father's lawyer that earlier today."
"She has to have it. It's nowhere else to be found. Caroline had to have given it to Phoebe. They were like sisters. Phoebe was the only one she wanted to see when she was dying." John ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Look, the ring isn't just of monetary value. It represents the love between my father and Caroline, and he needs that back. He's been distraught since she died. And the diamond will make him feel like he hasn't lost everything."
Molly didn't know what to make of his suddenly sad story. Maybe if he'd told her that tale first, she would have been more receptive. "Look, I'm sorry for your dad, but I can't give you what I don't have."
"We just want to help you look," he said.
"No," she replied "You're going to have to trust me."
"It's worth over three million dollars."
"I thought it wasn't about the money," Adam interjected. "Do you know Ethan Mercer?"
"Who?"
"He broke into the store last week and a few days before that. I'm pretty sure he was looking for the diamond, too."
"I've never heard that name," John said. "Are you telling me someone might have already stolen the diamond?"
"Well, the guy hasn't come back, so who knows?" Adam said. "But what we do know is that Ms. Trent doesn't have it. You need to leave her out of this. Step back, Mr. Weatherly."
Adam's firm voice backed John away from her.
"Please keep looking," John implored. "It's very important."
She didn't know what to say, so she just moved inside. Adam followed, watching Weatherly walk to his car before he shut the door.
"Are you all right, Molly?"
"I'm fine. I shouldn't have opened the door without looking. I thought it was you."
"Did he say anything else before I arrived?"
"No. Do you really think Mercer stole the diamond when he was here last week?"
"It's possible. It wouldn't be big. He could have had it in his pocket."
"I almost hope he does have it, so I can move on."
"I know. How are you doing?"
"Better now that you're here." She leaned into his kiss, feeling like it had been forever since she'd had his mouth on hers.
"I missed you," he said, lifting his head, his eyes sparkling with desire.
Her stomach flipped over. "It hasn't been all that long."
"Today felt like a month."
She smiled. "I'm happy you're here, but you are empty-handed."
He started. "Right. I left the food in the car. When I saw that man staring you down, I was more concerned with what was going on with you."
"I appreciate that, but now I want food. I'm starving."
"So am I," he said with a laugh. "And not just for food. I'll be right back."
Chapter Twenty-Three
