Secrets Between Them. C.J. Carmichael

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СКАЧАТЬ you show me around the island tomorrow?”

      Was he serious? She caught her breath, then nodded. “Sure.”

      She hoped she didn’t sound like this was a big deal, but to her it was. She had dated. She’d had boyfriends. One she’d almost married. But none of the guys from her past could measure up to this one. It seemed like her chance at adventure hadn’t been lost after all.

      NICK HADN’T THOUGHT ABOUT the fact that Jennifer might have photographs. Pictures from Simone’s formative years on Summer Island would really complete the middle section of his book. Nick decided that priority number one would be getting her permission to use some of them. It shouldn’t be hard. She was clearly taken with him. And it wouldn’t be difficult for him to simulate an interest in her.

      She was a pretty woman. Easy natured. Naturally kind. Once they’d had a chance to get to know one another, he’d let her know what he was writing about. The sort of person Jennifer was, she’d probably offer to help before he even needed to ask.

      After a quick washup, Nick trooped back down for tea, as he’d promised. It didn’t take much to charm the aunt. All he had to do was listen to several of her midwife stories. He didn’t even need to fake his interest. The stories were actually fascinating.

      Jennifer’s father was just as easy to connect with. Philip March was a history buff and he was impressed that Nick knew a bit about affairs north of the border.

      “Dad owns every book Pierre Berton ever wrote,” Jennifer told Nick.

      “I’ve read some of his myself,” Nick said. “My favorite was Flames Across the Border.”

      Philip’s eyes gleamed as he leaned back and stretched out his legs. He looked like he was about to start a long-winded conversation, and apparently Jennifer thought so, too, because she patted Nick’s arm in a fortifying way, then crossed the room to pour more tea.

      Nick’s eyes followed her as he listened to her father. She moved gracefully, light and fast on her feet like someone who squeezed a lot into a day. She’d been so reticent earlier, when he’d asked questions about Simone and the other forget-me-not friends. He wondered how long it would take to get her to relax around him.

      To trust him.

      As she lifted a dainty tea cup to her mouth, he felt a little stab of guilt. He had a feeling the woman was as innocent and naive as she appeared. Which must be why he suddenly felt like the big bad wolf.

      Nick rehashed with Philip the political motivations behind the War of 1812—the only time in history that Canadians and Americans had taken up arms against each other.

      Tea stretched out so long, it became dinner. Jennifer poured tea and refilled the jars of cream and jelly several times. Two sisters in their sixties, introduced to him as Ruth and Eileen Tisdale, returned exhausted and anxious for an early night after a day spent hiking in Arbutus Grove Provincial Park.

      An hour later, a couple from Vancouver celebrating their twenty-fifth anniversary, returned from their dinner at the Owl’s Nest. They were in their late forties, but they were so vibrant and fit they seemed much younger. They chatted only briefly, before disappearing up to their room.

      Determined to get Jenn to himself for a bit, Nick kept talking until he’d exhausted even Philip March’s interest in history. When Annie announced it was her bedtime, Jennifer’s father reluctantly pulled himself out of his chair and said his good night, too.

      At last Jennifer and Nick were alone.

      The house was dark except for the dimmed light from over the table. The only sounds were the groans of old plumbing, the creaking of a house settling for the night.

      Jennifer seemed a little uptight as she tapped her fingernails on the scarred wood table. He wondered what would relax her.

      “Do you have any music?”

      She looked relieved as she got up to turn on the stereo. “What do you like? Rock, country, classical, jazz? We have it all.”

      “Do you have any of your friend’s CDs?” He cursed himself as her shoulders tightened. “But anything jazz would be good,” he amended.

      She slipped on a disk from another Vancouver artist he recognized: Diana Krall.

      “I picked up a case of wine after I crossed the border. How about we open a bottle?”

      “That sounds nice.”

      Encouraged, he ended up bringing in two bottles and once Jennifer had a glass in her hand, she finally seemed more at ease.

      “I like this,” he said.

      She must have thought he meant the music, because she replied, “Simone used to complain that this CD was too bland.”

      Nick couldn’t have asked for a better opening. “I can see why she would say that. Simone’s music really stood out.”

      Jennifer took another sip of her wine.

      Nick hesitated. Decided to give it another try. “Forget Me Not, Old Friend, for instance. That was a real groundbreaker.”

      The song had catapulted Simone to instant fame. Many critics still considered it the best piece of music she’d ever produced.

      Of course one of the reasons the song was so unforgettable was because of the question it posed.

      You see a comet cross the sky, you make a wish, it passes by; but will you remember me at the brilliant end?

      Forget me not, my one true friend.

      Who was the one true friend Simone had been singing about? After years of research, Nick was almost certain it had to be one of the gang from Summer Island.

      But which one? Harrison, the ex-husband? Emerson, the man who had been so obsessed with Simone he’d been driven to murder? Gabe, the spurned lover? Aidan, the loyal friend of the husband?

      Or Jennifer, Simone’s closest—and perhaps only—girlfriend?

      Nick knew he couldn’t finish his book until he had the answer. But it didn’t seem he’d get any clues from Jennifer. At least not tonight. She still hadn’t replied to his comment about the forget-me-not song and he worried that he’d get her suspicious if he raised the subject again.

      Be patient, Lancaster, he counseled himself. After all, he had a month to get what he needed.

      CHAPTER THREE

      JENNIFER OPENED HER EYES, certain that the announcer on her radio alarm had made a mistake. It couldn’t be quarter to eight. She never slept in.

      Morning was the craziest time of Jennifer’s day. She usually prepared as much as she could the night before: setting the table, mixing the dough for muffins or scones, filling the coffeemaker with fresh grounds and water so all she’d need to do was press a button in the morning.

      But last night she’d done none of that. She and Nick had talked until past midnight. Since she’d been too tired to deal with her usual late-night chores, she’d set the alarm СКАЧАТЬ