Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (Sunset Cove #3)(9)
A call from his plant manager rang through the dash of his vehicle, and he punched on the audio. “You don’t have to check on me every hour, Lakesha. The girls and I are all still alive.”
He didn’t want anyone to know the real reason behind his decamping from his business—not even someone as trustworthy as Lakesha Lacy. In her fifties, she viewed herself as his surrogate mother. She’d be frantic if she knew someone had broken into his home, so he’d just told her he was taking the girls on an extended vacation and hadn’t even told her where he was headed. It was too dangerous.
“Glad to hear it. This isn’t a great time to be gone though. You had a visitor this morning. A representative from the Fish and Wildlife Service was here. They’re interested in that new drone!” Her voice rose with excitement. “They have a few modifications they’d like, but it’s nothing you couldn’t do.”
He straightened and his pulse kicked up a notch. “I thought it was a long shot when you suggested sending them a prototype. This is great news!”
“But you need to turn right around and come back, Drake. You’re the only one who can make those modifications. This is your baby.”
Everything in him wanted to do just what she said. A contract this big on this new drone was something most manufacturers only dreamed of. In a few years he’d be firmly established. He glanced in the rearview mirror. All his work would pay off with the ultimate security for him and his employees.
“Where are you, Drake? I don’t get all the secrecy. You won’t even tell me where you’re staying.”
He looked at his nieces. They had to feel secure while he tried to get to the bottom of what happened to their parents. He owed it to them. He couldn’t go back, not now. “I don’t know yet. I’m looking for a cottage to rent for the next six weeks, and I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” A shriek from his five-year-old niece punctuated his words. “Listen, I have to go. You can handle it, Lakesha.” He ended the call before she could protest.
He probably should have tried to book something rather than just picking up and coming here without any planning, but he’d been afraid Lakesha would talk him out of doing what he had to do.
He pulled the Land Rover onto the side of the road, then turned to focus on his nieces. His heart twisted every time he looked at them. Five-year-old Phoebe was the spitting image of Heath with dark hair and big blue eyes, while eight-year-old Emma had her mother’s blonde hair and hazel eyes. It was still hard for him to believe they were his responsibility now.
He was doing a lousy job too. All his efforts to make up for their loss were getting him nowhere. They’d grown more fractious and hard to deal with every day of the past month since he’d gotten the call that Heath and Melissa had fallen off a cliff in Folly Shoals. He had a feeling their deaths were tied to the break-in at his house. And he wasn’t sure the girls weren’t in danger either. This was for the best for all of them.
He saw a cottage with a steep-pitched roof and flowers in front of the porch that made him think of a storybook painting. Looking closer, he saw the lifted shingles on the roof and the peeling paint on the shutters, but at least it was empty. And its backyard should have a distant view of the ocean.
A woman carrying a paintbrush emerged from the faded front door. About thirty, she was attractive enough that he noticed the streaked blonde in her short hair and the way her curves filled her jeans and T-shirt.
He took the SUV out of park and drove to the edge of the driveway and lowered his window. “Good morning. I wonder if you know of any places for rent in the area? I’m looking for a rental for the rest of the summer.”
Her big blue eyes looked him over. “How soon do you need it?”
“As soon as possible. Any chance this place is available?”
“It will be. I have some painting and repairs to complete on it.” She shaded her narrowed eyes with her free hand, and her mouth pinched. “Are you from around here?”
“No. Could I see it?” He shut off the engine before she answered.
She took a step back. “I don’t think so.” The wary light in her eyes faded when Phoebe and Emma threw open the back doors and emerged from the SUV. “Your kids?”
“My nieces.” He didn’t feel like explaining the whole situation to a suspicious stranger.
Emma put her hands on her hips and stared at the cottage. “It looks like a Hansel and Gretel house.”
Phoebe shuddered and sidled behind her sister. “Is there a bad witch inside?”
The woman smiled. “No witches. I used to love to come here to visit my uncle. It’s got lots of great places to hide.”
Phoebe stepped out from behind Emma and ran toward the house. “I want to see!”
“Phoebe, come back here,” he called. To his surprise she stopped and retreated. He held out his hand to the woman. “Drake Newham.”
She hesitated, then took his hand. Her fingers were warm but firm. “Kate Mason.” She released his hand after a quick shake.
Hadn’t he heard the name somewhere? “About the house. Can we see it?”
She nodded. “It’s got two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Come on inside.”
He followed her up three steps to a front porch that held a worn swing and rocker. The red paint on the front door had faded to a dull reddish-orange, and the door creaked as she opened it. He stepped inside and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lower light. The lingering odor of paint hung in the room, and his nose detected the scent of some kind of cleaning solution as well.