The Bookstore on the Beach Page 2

  “You’ve lost weight,” she murmured gently, a hint of worry belying her smile before they embraced.

  “I’m okay, Mom.” Autumn could smell a hint of the bookstore on Mary’s clothes and realized that was another scent she’d never forget. It represented her childhood and all the great stories she’d read growing up. She’d once hoped to read every book in the store. She hadn’t quite made it, thanks to new releases and fluctuating inventory, but she’d read more books than most people. She still considered books to be a big part of her life. “It’s good to be home.”

  “Laurie’s dying to see you. Let’s go in and say hello,” Mary said and held the door.

  As soon as the bell sounded, Laurie hurried out from behind the register. “There you are! It’s a good thing you came when you did. I was afraid it would drive your mother crazy waiting for you. She’s been so anxious for you to arrive. We both have.”

  Taylor allowed her aunt to give her an exuberant squeeze. “I’m glad we got to come this year. Where’s Uncle Chris?”

  “Probably on the beach somewhere, painting. You know how he is once the weather warms up—just like a child, eager to get outdoors.”

  They took a few minutes to visit the small section of the store dedicated to Christopher’s work so they could admire his latest paintings. Autumn was especially enamored with one he’d done of the bookstore that portrayed a child out front, hanging on to her mother with one hand and carrying a stack of books with the other. That child could’ve been her once upon a time. She almost wondered if his memory of her had inspired it, which was why she decided, if that painting didn’t sell before she left, she’d buy it herself and take it back to Tampa.

  Fortunately, she had the money. As a corporate attorney, Nick had always done well financially. After the first few years of their marriage, which he spent finishing school, they’d rarely had to scrimp. But it was what he’d inherited when his father passed away that’d really set them up. After Sergey’s death, Autumn had quit working as a loan officer for a local bank and, for the past ten years, had focused on her family, her home, gardening and cooking. Her financial situation was also one of the reasons she rejected the idea that Nick might’ve left her for another woman, a possibility that had been suggested to her many, many times. Why would he leave his children, too, and walk away without a cent? Sure, they’d had their struggles, especially in recent years, when his work seemed to take more and more of his time and attention, but neither of them had ever mentioned separating.

  “This is amazing,” she exclaimed as she continued to study the little girl in the painting. “I love Chris’s work.”

  “The last original he donated to charity went for six thousand dollars,” Laurie announced proudly.

  “Who bought it?” Autumn asked. If whoever it was lived in Sable Beach, chances were good she’d know him or her.

  “Mike Vanderbilt, over at The Daily Catch. He was drunk when he got into a bidding war for it, and now it’s hanging in his restaurant. I think he’s glad to have it, but I imagine he also sees it as a reminder not to raise his paddle when he’s been drinking.”

  They all laughed to think of the barrel-chested and good-natured Mike letting alcohol bring out his competitive nature.

  “His wife must be doing well, then,” Autumn said. “She’s still in remission?”

  Laurie shot Mary a surprised glance, and it was Mary who answered. “I’m afraid not. She was when he bought that painting, but they received word just a couple of months ago that Beth’s breast cancer has come back.”

  “Oh no,” Autumn cried. Everyone knew the owners of The Daily Catch. They did a lot for the community. And it was her favorite restaurant. When she was home, she ate there all the time. “What’s her prognosis?”

  “Not good. That’s why Quinn has moved home from that little town in upstate New York. He helps his father with the restaurant these days. I’m sure he’s also here to spend time with his mother before...well, before he has to say goodbye to her for good.”

  “Quinn’s home?” Autumn said. She wasn’t expecting that; the mention of his name knocked her a little off-kilter. When he was a senior and she was a junior, she’d given him her virginity in the elaborate tree house that was in his backyard, even though he hadn’t been nearly as interested in being with her as she was him. And then he’d broken her heart by getting back together with his girlfriend, the same woman he married five years later. “So his wife and kids are here now, too?”

  “No, he doesn’t have any kids,” Laurie said, chiming in again. “And he and Sarah—what was her maiden name?”

  “Vizii,” Autumn supplied.

  “Yes. Vizii. They divorced almost two years ago. You didn’t know?”

  “How would I?” She’d seen nothing about it on social media, but then, Quinn had never been on social media, and she’d never been able to find Sarah, either—not that she’d checked recently because she hadn’t. “I haven’t seen him since he was working as a lifeguard at the beach after his first year of college and he had to swim out and save me from drowning.” She didn’t add that she’d faked the whole episode just to get his attention. She was mortified about that now and cringed at how obvious it must’ve been to him.

  “I’m surprised the gossip didn’t reach you all the way down in Tampa,” Laurie said. “For a while, it was about the only thing anyone around here could talk about.”

  But who would tell her? Her mother wasn’t much for gossip, which was ironic, considering she’d lived in Sable Beach for so long. The town where Autumn had been raised took talking about their friends and neighbors to a whole new level.

  “Why would his divorce be such big news?” she asked. Besides being one of the most popular boys in school, Quinn had been handsome, athletic and at the top of his class—undoubtedly one of Sable Beach’s finest. But still. Divorce was so commonplace it was hardly remarkable anymore. And Quinn was thirty-nine. He’d been gone from this place—except for when he visited his folks—for twenty-one years. How could what was going on in his life be such a hot topic?

  Laurie tilted her head toward Taylor and Caden in such a way that Autumn understood she was hesitant to speak in front of them. “There were some...extenuating circumstances. Have your mother tell you about it later.”

  “I want to hear,” Caden protested.

  “Why? We don’t even know him.” Taylor jumped in before Autumn could respond, then Caden snapped at her to shut up and they started arguing again.

  “Don’t make Mimi regret inviting us.” Autumn rolled her eyes to show how weary she was of this behavior.

  “Should we go over and get you settled in?” Mary asked. “Laurie offered to close the store tonight, so I’m free to start dinner while you unpack.”

  “Sure,” Autumn said. Once Caden and Taylor got to the beach, maybe they’d mellow out and fall into the same companionable rhythm they usually achieved when they came to Sable Beach.

  Her mother’s house seemed the same, except that its shingle siding was now white instead of green. It had needed a fresh coat of paint, and the white looked clean and crisp. But as much as she loved the update, Autumn was relieved to find that nothing else had changed. Visiting Mary was like going back in time. Not many people could do that twenty years after they’d left home.

  Because it was such a small cottage, Caden had to sleep on the couch, Taylor took Autumn’s old room next to Mary’s, and the three of them shared the only bathroom, which was off the hallway. Autumn slept above the detached garage, where she had her own bed and bath, thanks to Nick. Because he’d typically had to work when she brought the kids, he’d never spent more than a few days at a time in Sable Beach. That had caused more than a few arguments over the years, so she’d readily agreed when he’d insisted they have their own space for when he did come. She’d thought it might mean he’d accompany them more often, or stay a little longer
when he did. It made no difference in the end, but he was the one who’d hired an architect to create the plans to finish off the top of the garage, even though it had been Autumn who’d picked out the finishes and colors.

  A wave of melancholy washed over her as she left the kids with her mother to get settled in at the main house, let herself into the garage and climbed the narrow stairs at the back to the apartment, where she’d be living for the next few months, by herself. As often as she’d been here over the years, it felt strange to know that Nick would not be visiting. At times, she was still so lost without him.

  “Where are you?” she whispered as she walked around, touching the things he’d touched. She’d come for Christmas without him, but she and Taylor had shared her old room in the house. They could do that for a week or so but not for three months—not without wanting to turn around and head straight home.

  She stopped in front of the dresser, where her mother had put a picture of her family. She’d known her husband was getting involved in something secretive, that a friend who was with the FBI had recruited him for his knowledge of Ukraine. Because his parents had emigrated from there, he’d known the language, was familiar with the customs and still had a few relatives in the country. That made him useful in what had become a very troubled region.

  Although he couldn’t tell her exactly what he was doing for the government, she guessed he was working in counterterrorism, probably trying to infiltrate various radical groups. She’d read that the FBI sometimes used civilians who were particularly adept with computers, or had some specific knowledge or ability, to assist them.

  Maybe he’d become a full-fledged spy, and whoever was on the other side had discovered his activities. The FBI claimed they hadn’t sent him to Ukraine to begin with, but she’d discovered that he’d flown into Kyiv before disappearing and had no idea why he’d go there if not at their request. If he wanted to reacquaint himself with his uncle and cousins, he would’ve told her. Besides, the family he had there claimed they hadn’t heard from him. She’d traveled halfway across the world to speak to them face-to-face—not that the long, tiring trip had accomplished anything.

  She lifted her suitcase onto the bed and was unpacking her clothes when her mother came up. “The kids would like to go to the beach before we have dinner, but I told them I’d rather they not go alone.”

  “Mom, they’re sixteen and seventeen,” she said. “Kids that age go to the beach by themselves all the time.”

  “Still. I don’t mind walking down with them.”

  That was her mother’s polite way of saying she was afraid they wouldn’t be safe and felt the need to watch over them. Mary had always been overprotective. But Autumn managed not to say anything. What would it hurt for their Mimi to walk down to the water with them? There was no need to transfer the suffocation she’d felt to her children, especially because they’d had to put up with so much less of it. “Okay.”

  “Would you like us to wait for you?”

  “No, I’ll find you in a few minutes.”

  With a nod, her mother turned to leave but paused before descending the stairs. “It can’t be easy for you to stay out here, knowing that Nick won’t be coming. Would you rather we make other arrangements, like we did at Christmas? Have you stay in the house with us?”

  Unless Nick suddenly showed up, she’d have to brave it at some point, wouldn’t she? It might as well be now. “No. There’s not enough room. Taylor and I both need our space.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Mom?”

  She looked up. “Yes?”

  “Before you go, tell me what Laurie was referring to at the bookshop.”

  “About...”

  “Quinn and Sarah,” she said.

  “Oh. No one really knows exactly what happened,” her mother said.

  “There must’ve been a story circulating.” And she was eager to focus on something besides her own troubles for a change. She could see Nick’s rain boots in the corner of the room and knew there would probably come a time—in the not-too-distant future—when she would have to make the difficult decision about what to do with them.

  She couldn’t even imagine that. But she had a whole houseful of his belongings in Tampa, and if he didn’t come back, she’d have to decide what to do with all of it. Should she box it up and put it in storage? Stubbornly continue to wait? And if so, for how long?

  Her mother seemed as reluctant as ever to repeat gossip, but she must’ve understood that what’d happened to Quinn might create a good distraction, because she finally relented. “Sarah claims he was having an affair, which caused her to fly into a jealous rage and stab him.”

  This was not what Autumn had expected. “Did you say stab him?”

  Her mother frowned. “I’m afraid so.”

  “But...he must be okay. Laurie said he was here, helping his father run the restaurant.”

  “She didn’t hit anything vital, thank goodness. But I heard he spent a few days in the hospital, so his wounds weren’t superficial, either.”

  Autumn whistled as she imagined how bad their marriage must’ve been for something like that to happen. “I thought they’d be happy together. They dated for so long before they got married. It’s not as if they didn’t know each other well.” She sank onto the bed next to her suitcase. “Did he admit to cheating?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “But you think he did—cheat, I mean.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Something had to have made her react so violently.”

  Mary never gave the benefit of the doubt to a man. Autumn had noticed this before and assumed her father was to blame. Although Mary refused to talk about the past—went rigid as soon as Autumn mentioned her father—there were times, more of them as she got older, when she found herself wondering who he was and what he was like. Before Nick went missing, she’d told her mother that she was tempted to try to look him up, and Mary had been so appalled—that Autumn would have any interest in him when he was such a “bad person”—that she’d dropped the idea.

  It was something she thought she might like to revisit, though. Times had changed. Nowadays, a simple DNA test could possibly tell her a great deal. And there were moments when she felt she should be allowed to fill in those blanks.

  But she hated to proceed without her mother’s blessing. She owed Mary a degree of loyalty for being the parent who’d stuck with her.

  Finished unpacking, she put her empty suitcase in the closet while trying to ignore Nick’s snorkel gear, which was also in there, changed into her bathing suit and cover-up, slipped on her flip-flops and grabbed her beach bag. She was on her way down the stairs when she heard her phone buzz with an incoming call.

  Assuming it would be her mother or one of her children, wondering what was taking her so long, she dug it out of her bag so that she could answer. But according to Caller ID, the person attempting to reach her wasn’t a member of the family. It was Lyaksandro Olynyk, the Ukrainian private investigator she’d hired to look for Nick.

  It was seven hours later in that part of the world. Why would he be calling her in the middle of the night?

  2

  Taylor stretched out on her towel. It was late in the day, so it wasn’t as warm on the beach as she would’ve liked, but she was glad to be out of Florida, to have a break from her regular life. She was tired of being the girl whose father had gone missing. Tired of how everyone acted because of it. Tired of seeing her mother show up at school for one of her volleyball games with dark circles under her eyes, her mind thousands of miles away. Tired of the constant arguments with her brother because they suddenly couldn’t get along.

  Tired of it all.

  Losing her father was bad enough without the other stuff. She just wanted to run away or be someone else for a while.

  Thank God her mother had agreed that they cou
ld come to Mimi’s. Sable Beach was better than Tampa. For one, she could breathe here. The place was so small she wasn’t quite as invisible as she wished she were, but most of the people in town only knew her as Autumn’s daughter or Mary’s granddaughter, so she could hide behind her mother and Mimi most of the time. And when they weren’t around? She could handle the occasional superficial interaction. It was the constant pretense that was so hard. Smiling. Getting up and going to school every day. Feigning interest in conversations, events and high school drama that no longer interested her.

  Now she could save all her energy for the acting she had to do for her own family.

  Before she left, her friends had said she’d probably get bored and start begging to come home. They’d been joking, but she hoped they were right. Maybe if she did get bored, really bored, she’d be able to make herself go back to Florida after the summer was over. Otherwise, she was going to ask her mother if she could move in with Mimi and finish high school in Sable Beach. She hated to hurt Autumn. But she couldn’t seem to relate to anyone anymore. She had to escape the past eighteen months.

  Her phone chimed, but she didn’t bother to pick it up. She didn’t want to hear from her old friends, who cared so much about stuff that seemed stupid to her. A man had gone missing. A husband, a father and a good lawyer. How could life go on as if that was nothing? Couldn’t they see that he’d taken a huge part of her with him?

  Caden leaned around Mimi, who was sitting between them. “Can’t you hear that?” he said, obviously irritated.

  Rather than admit that she’d heard the ringing of her phone, too—because then he’d only demand to know why she wasn’t answering—she picked it up so she could see the screen.

  She’d missed a call from her best friend, Danielle Kent, who’d followed up with a text message.

  Answer your phone! You’re not going to believe who I just saw at the mall.