The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,35

something to be gained, people will do almost anything,” he replied.

She gripped the phone that much tighter. “And what is there to be gained in this situation?”

“I’d like to tell you. Can we meet?”

Panic welled up. “No.”

“Are you here in Sable Beach?”

She’d called him right after he’d given his card to someone in the local drugstore, which had to suggest a cause-and-effect relationship. But she wasn’t going to give him any information—not until she knew what he wanted. “I’d rather not answer that question.”

“So you do live here. Do you also work here?”

He was direct. So she was going to be just as direct. “I’d rather not answer that question, either.”

“I’m not the press, Bailey.”

She winced at the sound of her given name. She’d hoped never to hear it on anyone else’s lips again. She didn’t want to be the person she used to be; to her, that person was dead. Along with everything else Jeff and Nora had taken from her, they’d murdered the young woman she’d once been. “I guessed as much. But knowing you’re not the press doesn’t tell me who you are—or why you’re here.”

“I’d be happy to explain it to you, but I can’t do it over the phone.”

She rubbed her forehead as she stared out the front windshield of her car. “Does this have to do with my mother?”

“No.”

She didn’t know whether to be hurt or relieved. That her mother had never tried to rectify, or even apologize, for what she’d done cut deeply. She’d endured rejection in its cruelest form. But having no contact with RaeLynn also made it easier to hide, so she supposed she should be grateful that her mother had been willing to let her go. “The people who kidnapped me?”

“Yes.”

She tensed. Her feelings toward them were much less complicated. She never wanted to hear from them again. Period. “Don’t tell me they’re out of prison.”

“We’ll go over that. Just give me a few minutes of your time, will you?”

“Where?”

“You pick the location.”

She was trying to decide where they could meet when she saw Laurie pull into the parking lot. “I’ve got to go,” she said. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and maybe we can arrange something.”

He started to speak, but she hung up.

Laurie waved, and she forced herself to smile as she got out. She wished she would’ve told Owens to quit flashing his card around town, that she’d only meet with him if he’d be discreet.

But that would only confirm that he was, indeed, close to where she was—close to finding her.

* * *

Taylor milled around her grandmother’s cottage, too agitated to sit down. She couldn’t decide what to do—or if she should do anything. Should she wait and hope what was going on at Sierra’s house would just blow over? Go to her mother for help? Call the police? What?

She doubted it was illegal for a parent to wash a teenager’s mouth out with soap—not so long as the teen wasn’t truly harmed. Even if it was crossing the line, Sierra had talked back. Taylor wasn’t confident she could get others to step in, given what Sierra had said.

But what if Mr. Lambert’s punishment didn’t end there? The look on his face—the anger flashing in his eyes—had truly frightened her.

Relief rushed over her when she heard the door.

“There you are,” Caden said as he strode into the house. “How was A Handmaid’s Tale?”

“Okay, I guess.” Taylor was too distracted and upset to talk about the TV show.

He stopped as soon as he got a good look at her. “What’s wrong?”

She crossed to the window and craned her neck to be able to see the driveway. She didn’t want her mother or grandmother to walk in and hear what she had to say. “It’s Sierra.”

“What about her?”

“Her father came home drunk and started a fight—and...and I don’t know if she’s going to be okay.”

A scowl darkened his face. “What do you mean? He didn’t hit her, did he?”

“Not in front of me. But who knows what happened after I left. Do you think I should call Mom?”

“Not unless you know for sure.”

She started biting at the cuticles on her fingers, something she often did when she was nervous. “It looked like it was moving in that direction.”

“But if you’re wrong, Mom might stick her nose into their business for no reason and start a feud here in Sable Beach. If that happens, she’ll probably take us back to Florida, and I’m having fun. I want to stay for the