The Deadly Art of Love and Murder Page 8

  “Call me Bent,” said my brother-in-law, who hated his given name. Olivia gave each of them a welcoming hug, asking Mel when her baby was due.

  “In February,” she answered, stroking the barely-there bump. “Welcome to Coho Bay, Dr. Jordan.”

  “It’s Olivia, please.”

  Mel smiled. “Olivia.”

  Mom gestured toward Frank. “And this is Caribou’s young man, Franklin Baker.”

  Olivia looked at me, her expression puzzled, but she walked over to greet Frank while I shot a death glare at my mother. Frank grinned at me and returned Olivia’s hug. “Glad to meet you. I gotta say, though. You aren’t what I was expecting.”

  “Frank!” I said.

  Olivia waved me off. “It’s okay, Cara.” She turned back to Frank. “My grandmother must not have told anyone that my father was African-American.”

  “Well, that too, but I was talkin' about you bein’ so young and pretty.”

  Olivia laughed and turned back to me. “This Frank of yours is quite a charmer.”

  “He’s not my Frank,” I said, then regretted my bluntness when I saw the hurt on Frank’s face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just...”

  “Why don’t we go and get dinner ready, Bent?” Mel offered and I shot her a grateful look.

  “You stay put, honey-bunch,” said Dad. “Bent and I can manage.”

  “Or we could all go down and eat in the dining room, Robert. We don’t have a table up here for family meals.” Mom took Olivia’s arm. “Dr. Jordan, I want to talk to you about your future. Have you considered going into practice in a small but vibrant town that is rapidly becoming an art mecca and a tourist destination?”

  Olivia winked at me and went with her. The rest of my family followed them and I waited for them to disappear down the stairs. “Frank, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  He put his arms around me and drew me into a more than friendly hug. “You could never hurt my feelings, Boo.”

  The pet name grated, but I shoved that aside. “My mother––”

  “Is just blowin’ smoke. Don’t you let it bother you.”

  He leaned down and kissed me, long and slow and dizzyingly sensual. My heart raced, my mind swirled and my body melted against his. His body was asking for something I knew I wasn’t ready to deliver so I pulled away, gasping for air. I couldn’t meet his eyes as I turned away, almost tripping on my own feet. “We’d better not keep them waiting,” I managed to get out as I fled for the safety of the kitchen.

  My mother gave me a long look, head to toe, as I came into the dining room, but she said nothing. I took a seat next to Olivia, and Frank joined us, thankfully sitting across the table. I didn’t trust myself to have my thigh pressed against him or my knees bumping up against his. Olivia was deep in conversation with Mel so I helped myself to a filet of salmon and even took a serving of unidentifiable greens my mother must have made. Bent’s salmon usually melts in your mouth, a delicious combination of sweet and savory only he knows the secret to, but tonight I might have been eating sawdust.

  There was a knock on the street door and my dad went to open it for Dan, who stomped the snow off his boots before joining us. “Daniel,” said my mother, her hand on an empty chair at her end of the table, “won’t you join us?”

  Dan pulled a chair from an adjoining table and placed himself between me and Frank, who was looking none too happy to see him. “Thank you, Marcie, Bent’s cooking sure beats anything I’ve got waiting for me at home.”

  “Try the greens,” I said, handing him the bowl.

  “They’re dandelion,” explained my mother. I hoped my face didn’t have the same expression as Dan’s, but I was pretty sure it did. “They’re very high in vitamin K.”

  “What the heck is vitamin K?” whispered Dan and I shrugged.

  “Purifies the blood,” said Frank, scooping up a forkful and managing to eat it with only a slight change in his expression.

  “They’re also a wonderful source of vitamins A and C,” added Olivia, who was eating hers as though she actually enjoyed them. “These are wonderfully done, Marcie.”

  I took a hesitant bite but the acrid taste overcame my manners and I spit it out. Olivia laughed. “It’s an acquired taste. Do you grow your own, Marcie?”

  “I’d love to have a garden, but I never seem to have time. Winter’s my only down season. The rest of the year, I’m busy as a bee keeping up with my work.”

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  My mother beamed and launched into a detailed explanation of her duties as a wildlife biologist. “Robert also works for the state,” she said, finally reaching the end of her narrative. “When I got the opportunity to work in Alaska, we were afraid he would have difficulty finding work but environmental science is very much in demand here, as are medical professionals.”

  “See how she managed to slide that in?” I asked.

  Olivia nodded. “She’s good.”

  “Excuse me?” asked my mother.

  “I warned Olivia you’d be all over her trying to get her to move to Coho Bay.”

  “It’s fine, Marcie, really. I’m flattered.” Olivia declined the slice of pie Mel offered and pushed back her chair. “I hate to break up what’s been an enjoyable evening, but I would like to see my grandmother and then I think it’s time to hit the hay.”

  “Don’t say that too loud.” Frank also pushed back his chair, “They’ll have you sleeping on a bale in the woodshed.”

  “Now Franklin, Robert and I use those cots every year when we do the moose count. They are perfectly adequate and the kitchen is hardly a woodshed.”

  “Moose count?”

  “I’ll explain it to you later, Olivia.” I stood up, wondering why Frank was sleeping on a cot in Mel’s kitchen but not wanting to stick around to find out. “I’ll take you over to the church and then get you settled in the apartment. Mom, I’m going to sleep on the couch over there tonight.”

  “As you wish,” said Mom. Frank shot me a look that was, I’m not sure. Disappointment? Frustration? Perhaps a bit of both.

  “I’ll go with you,” said Dan, popping the last of his pie into his mouth. “I’ll need to unlock the church for you.”

  He and Frank stood eying each other, reminding me of two bull elk during rut. “Why don’t you give me the key?” I asked, holding out my hand. “We ladies can get along just fine on our own.”

  Frank glared at me, but sat back down and Mel handed him a large slice of pie. Dan dug the key out of his pocket and handed it to me. “I’ll walk over with you. It’s on my way home.”

  “Daniel, my daughter is quite capable of showing the good doctor to the church. Robert was hoping to show you the progress we’ve made on the remodel project.”

  Olivia and I grabbed our coats and slipped out the back, leaving Dad’s discussion of the virtues of raw cut lumber behind us. We crossed the empty street and past the bank. We turned onto Second Street and started up the wooden sidewalk. As we walked past the recreation hall, I pointed it out to Olivia. “The ladies guilds will be hosting a gathering here after the interment.”

  “That’s so kind of them. I hate to put people to so much trouble, and on short notice.”

  “It’s no trouble. Your grandmother was part of life here and everyone wanted to do something to help.”

  Olivia didn’t speak right away and when she did, there was a break in her voice. “I love these wooden sidewalks.”

  “The tourists love them too, which is how we got the mayor to lay out the money for them, but as it turns out, they’re also more practical than cement sidewalks would have been.”

  “They have personality.”

  I laughed. “We have loads of personality here. Not always a good thing.”

  “I noticed. You seem to have two handsome men fighting over you.”

  I was thankful for the fading light so she didn’t see the flush come over my cheeks. “We’re not exactly o
verflowing with single women, that’s all.”

  “I’m sure it has nothing to do with those gorgeous green eyes of yours.”

  “Don’t be silly. Mel’s the beauty of the family. Especially right now.”

  “Your sister is lovely, but you have a strength that men find very attractive. Strong men are looking for strong women.”

  “Did your mother always say that?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did. Whenever I complained that every man I went out with couldn’t handle my determination to become a doctor.”

  “I think your mom would have liked mine.”

  “I’m sure she would have. Marcie reminds me of her. You’re lucky to have her.”

  I didn’t feel lucky when Mom was trying to run my life, but if I’d lost her as Olivia had lost her mother, I knew I’d be devastated. “Here’s the church.” I unlocked the door while Olivia read the sign beside it.

  “Three different churches in one building?” she asked.

  “It was originally Russian Orthodox, but nobody saw the need for more buildings, so we all share.”

  “Very thrifty.”

  “Saved money, but time is as precious a commodity to us. We’re not busy in the winter, but it’s too cold to build. Once it gets warm enough, everybody’s working ten or twelve hours a day. We have the tourist trade, of course, but we also have a thriving cannery. The fishing boats go out every day before dawn and when they get back, they have to process the catch.”

  “That’s hard work, I’d guess.”

  “And dangerous too. We really do need a doctor. If somebody gets seriously hurt, having on-site treatment could be the difference between life and death.”

  “Your mom said you have a clinic.”

  “Yes, we walked past it on the way here. I’ll give you a tour of it in the morning if you want. Not that I’m trying to pressure you or anything.”

  She laughed. “I would like to see it. I finish my residency in the spring but after that, I’m at a loss where I should go. Gram hinted there might be a place for me here. Her attorney is advising me to sell, but Gram would have hated that. If nothing else, I plan to keep it as a vacation home.”

  We hung our coats on a rack in the entry and walked into the sanctuary. The overhead lighting seemed harsh with just the two of us. “I have always loved this room,” I said, my voice hushed for no good reason. “As long as I can remember, we’ve come to church every Sunday, rotating times with the two other congregations. I’ve seen it in all times of the day and night.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, looking around her. There were stained glass windows that sparkled in the morning sunshine but looked dull against the darkness outside. Rows of pews with red upholstered cushions flanked a center aisle leading to the altar. An orthodox cross, covered in gold-leaf, stood behind the altar, pictures of Mary, Jesus and the apostles decorating the far wall.

  Mrs. Nash’s coffin sat on a table in front of the altar. I sat in one of the pews and let Olivia go to her grandmother alone. Someone had carved Mrs. Nash’s name on the top of the coffin and she reached out and ran her fingers over the letters. She tried to open the lid, but the same person who had done the carving must have had the foresight to seal it. Still trying to blot out the last time I’d seen Mrs. Nash, I said a silent prayer of thanks for that bit of thoughtfulness.

  “Why did you do it?” Olivia’s voice was low, but since there was no other sound I could easily hear what she was saying. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though I was intruding. She turned, reaching out her hand to me and I stepped forward to grasp it. Her face was stricken, tears flowing unchecked. “Why would you leave me like this, Gram?”

  I gathered her in my arms as she sobbed. Nothing I could say could blunt that pain so I stayed quiet, letting her grieve. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to lose everyone I loved and know that I was unwelcome by the only family I had left. Olivia was truly alone and her shoulders seemed painfully slim to carry such weight.

  Chapter 6

  Olivia was still sleeping when I woke at dawn the next morning. Knowing how emotionally draining the visit to the church had been, I decided to let her sleep. I scribbled a note for her to meet me at Mel’s when she got up and slipped out. The sun was still rising over the mountains and I stopped to watch. The scattered clouds were stained pink and gold. The mountains were white, with the dark green of the evergreens running up to the line where the trees gave way to barren, rugged peaks. The air was biting and I pulled my stocking cap lower to cover my ears.

  Nature enveloped me, permeating the air I breathed, penetrating the very core of my being until I was part of the environment and it was part of me. During the year I’d spent at school in Seattle, it was the ground and the water and the sky I missed as much as my family and friends. Seattle is a beautiful city, but I was born and bred for this tiny Alaskan village.

  “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

  I jumped. “Frank, you’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me.”

  “I’m not sneaking. I was headed to Mel’s for breakfast.”

  I looked behind him. “Where are you headed from? I thought you were sleeping in the kitchen?”

  “I bunked down in my boat last night.” He turned me back to the sunrise, which had progressed from pinks and golds to bright white against the blue sky. He put his arms around me and whispered, “Could have used a bunkmate to keep me warm.”

  A slow heat spread through me. “You’re moving too fast, Frank.”

  “Tell me you don’t like this.” His lips brushed against my neck as his hands moved down my arms, pulling me closer. Every inch of my body was screaming for me to let go of my fears and explore sensations that were driving my heart rate higher than the every other Wednesday aerobic dance class at the recreation center.

  I turned to face him. “You’re a good looking man, Frank. It’s obvious I’m attracted to you.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” He tugged my hand and took a step toward the dock. “Let’s take the boat out. We’ll anchor at a quiet cove and see where this thing takes us.”

  I planted my feet. “I can’t do that.”

  He swept me into his arms and kissed me, pulling my hips against his. I managed to break off the kiss before it got too far out of control. He took my face in his hands. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away.”

  “I like you and I’d like to get to know you better, but I don’t jump into bed with a man because I’m attracted to him, Frank. Sex means something to me and I don’t have any idea what it means to you, or whether it means the same thing or if it means anything at all.”

  “Why does it have to mean anything?” He caught my hands. “Why does it have to mean anything other than I want to be with you and you want to be with me?”

  “Right now.” He looked puzzled. “You want to be with me right now and I want to be with you right now too, but ‘right now’ isn’t a good enough reason.”

  He took a step back. “Cara, are you a virgin?”

  My face flared red, but so did my temper. “If I go with you, I’m sure it would be incredible but I’m gonna start feeling things for you that I’m not ready to feel. I'm gonna start wanting things from you that I don’t think you’re ready to give.”

  Frank’s eyes went cold and I sensed a wall going up between us. “It’s too fast, Frank. If you’re only interested in sex, no harm, no foul, but I’m not the one for you. If you’re genuinely interested in me, then let’s slow down and take time to get to know each other.”

  He stared at me for a long moment and I found myself holding my breath until he sighed and put his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving to death.”

  I put my arm around his waist and matched his pace as we turned toward Mel’s. I still didn’t like the idea of being caught between two men, but at least now maybe I’d get to see the real Frank and not the romance cover model he’d been showing me.

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nbsp; MEL HADN’T COME DOWN for breakfast, but the frittatas Bent had whipped up were every bit as good as the ones she made once a week during the season. He’d opened the restaurant to accommodate the people who would be in town for the funeral over the next couple of days. There were a few tables already occupied and Dad was serving coffee, white apron tied around his waist. I kissed him on the cheek and offered to set him free.

  “Have your breakfast first. I see you’ve found Frank.”

  “He slept in his boat.”

  “I wasn’t insinuating anything, honey. I don’t care what your mother says, those cots are worse than sleeping on the floor.”

  Olivia came in as Frank and I were finishing breakfast so I pushed him and Dad to go upstairs while I went to work waiting tables. “We should be able to finish your room today,” Dad told me as they headed up, “so you won’t have to camp out on your couch.”

  “I still don’t have a bed.”

  “There’s always a cot.” He smiled and avoided the dishtowel I threw at him.

  “We can take the sleds out when we get done and haul in the furniture from your cabin,” offered Bent, as he scrambled eggs to fill an order.

  “You have a cabin?” asked Olivia.

  “About five miles out. If you’re up for it, you can ride out with us this afternoon. It’ll be cold.”

  “I can loan her my snowmobile suit,” said Mel, who had come down to the kitchen to get orange juice.

  “Perfect! Bent, this frittata is amazing. You could make a killing if you had a place in Minneapolis.”

  My sister smiled and her hand instinctively went to her baby bump. “But then we’d have to live there.”

  She and the guys went upstairs and I poured Olivia a cup of coffee, keeping an eye on the tables with guests. “What all would you like to do today, Olivia?”

  “When is the funeral?”

  “Tomorrow morning. We would have held it this afternoon, but they had to get the grave ready.”