Cover-Up Page 5

  He’d been fooling himself. Tonight, here on the porch in the darkness, he’d found his answer. The real reason why he’d come back. All it had taken was one kiss from Emily to get to the heart of the matter.

  He’d come back to finish what they’d started all those years ago.

  Chapter 4

  “Hey, man.” Jason clapped a hand on Robeson’s shoulder. “You look like you could use a couple more hours of shut-eye.”

  The dining room of the Harbor House was bustling with people. The tables were dressed in starched linen cloths and crystal vases trailing ivy and fresh roses. The coffee was freshly ground, all the breads homemade.

  “Long night.” Robeson Ryder smiled. “Lots of old friends to get reacquainted with.”

  “Yeah.” Jason’s smile faded a bit. “I did a little catching up myself.” And he had then spent more time than he cared to admit pacing his room last night, thinking about Emily.

  He looked up when the young waitress approached. “Coffee. Black.”

  The smells coming from the kitchen made Jason’s mouth water. “I washed dishes here one summer.”

  “You were one of the lucky ones.” Robeson grinned. “They wouldn’t let me near the kitchen. I got the job of mowing the lawn and pulling weeds. Did you know that we dug out each and every dandelion by hand? And if the groundskeeper found that we’d missed one, they docked our pay.”

  Jason laughed. “And we refer to them as the good old days.”

  “Maybe you do.” Robeson drained his coffee and waited while the young waitress poured more. He looked over at Jason. “Ready to order?”

  “Yeah. Bacon crisp. Eggs scrambled. Wheat toast.”

  Robeson shook his head. “Some things never change.” He glanced at the waitress. “I’ll have the same.”

  When she walked away he said, “So. Tell me about the writing biz.”

  “It satisfies my soul. And the pay’s good. Now tell me about life on the world stage as an advisor to the movers and shakers of our planet.”

  Robeson wasn’t surprised at his old friend’s offhand response. Jason Cooper had spent his entire childhood deflecting questions about himself. It was his armor against both shame and pain. Old habits, Robeson supposed, died hard.

  He sipped his coffee. “It no longer satisfies my soul the way it used to. I doubt the pay is as good as yours. And I can’t sugar-coat the facts with a layer of fiction.”

  They both laughed.

  “Seriously.” Robeson set down his cup. “There was a time when it felt really good to find myself walking in the footsteps of some pretty great men. Not filling their shoes, mind you, but at least following where they led.”

  “You’ve been leaving some pretty big footprints of your own, my friend.” Jason shot him a quick smile. “I’ve been following your successes. And they’re damned impressive.”

  Robeson shook his head. “The way you and I were headed a few years ago, I never thought we’d be sitting here in the Harbor House, talking about our successes like old men.”

  “I don’t know. I should have seen your career as a rabble-rouser coming.” At Robeson’s snort of laughter Jason studied his old friend across the table. “Looking back on our high-school days, I seem to remember plenty of times when you managed to lead a student protest about something.”

  “Somebody had to do it.”

  “Yeah, but you took such delight in stirring up hornets’ nests, and then watching everyone scramble for cover. Like the time Sue Bartlett wanted to compete on the wrestling team.”

  Robeson shrugged. “I was just ahead of my time. Now girls routinely join high-school wrestling teams.”

  “But the entire team threatened to quit if she was allowed to compete.”

  “That’s only because she could kick their butts.” Robeson chuckled. “Did you know that Sue’s parents moved to Miller Falls? The high school there let Sue compete with the guys and she led them to a state championship.”

  “Sweet revenge. You were definitely ahead of your time, my friend.”

  Robeson laughed. “Maybe. Or maybe Devil’s Cove was just out of step. Now maybe I’m the one who’s out of step.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Robeson stared down at his coffee. “I’m not sure I want to do this anymore.”

  “Can’t stand success, huh?” Jason’s smile faded when he saw the bleak look in his friend’s eyes. “Hey, you’re serious. What’s this about?”

  Robeson sipped, then set his cup down with a clatter. “It’s not all champagne and caviar, Jase. Sometimes it’s the threats against my wife and son. And sometimes it’s the media watching me, hoping I’ll slip and fall for the camera’s glare.”

  “So you walk a little more carefully. And you hire bodyguards.”

  “Is that the way you’d like to live?”

  Jason shook his head. “I’d hate it. But if that’s the price you have to pay…”

  “I could always walk away.”

  “And do what?”

  Robeson shrugged. “There are at least a dozen law firms who’d pay dearly to add my name to their letterhead.”

  “You’re more than a lawyer, Robeson. You know that. You have something special to offer this country.”

  “Not if I’m dead. Not if my reputation is ruined by some rag trying to dig up dirt.”

  Jason studied his old friend across the table. “Is there any dirt they can dig?”

  Robeson gave a half smile. “I suppose if they dig deep enough. I never tried to live my life like a saint.”

  “Not as long as I knew you.”

  They both laughed, then looked up when the waitress served their orders.

  “One thing Devil’s Cove can brag about is this place.” Jason tucked into his meal and Robeson followed suit. “I’ll bet you haven’t found many places around the world that can bake better bread than right here in the Harbor House.”

  Robeson nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He slathered wild strawberry jelly on a piece of toast and tasted. “Now if they added soul food to the menu they’d definitely be world-class.”

  Both men laughed easily as they finished their breakfast.

  Robeson took a last drink of coffee. “I’ve got to get going. I promised Mrs. B. I’d visit her this morning. Then we have that lunch here in the gardens. Afterward I’m doing an interview with a local news crew.” He shoved back from the table and looked down at his old friend. “How about you?”

  Jason shrugged. “I’m going to Carrie’s to meet her daughter.” He saw the quick frown on his friend’s face. “You knew she had a daughter, didn’t you?”

  Robeson nodded. “Yeah. I heard. Well…” He clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’ll see you at the luncheon.”

  With his jacket hooked over his shoulder by a thumb, Jason walked up the steps of a modest white frame house in a newer section of town that boasted street after street of similar homes. The lawn was neatly trimmed. White petunias framed either side of the porch.

  The door was opened before he could ring the bell.

  Carrie looked past him to the street. “Where’s your car?”

  “I walked.”

  “Jason, it’s almost a mile from the Harbor House.”

  “I needed the exercise.”

  She studied the muscles of his arms visible beneath the knit shirt. “You look like you have a personal trainer.”

  “Thanks. But so far I’ve managed just fine on my own.” He stepped past her into a neat living room. “I didn’t see you at the kickoff party last night.”

  “The night waitress didn’t show, so I had to work the next shift.” She shrugged. “Not that I minded. I’d rather have the money in my envelope than make small talk with a bunch of strangers who never had anything to do with me when I was in school. Come on. I want you to meet Jenny.” She led the way to the kitchen, where a blond freckled girl in a baseball uniform was seated on a stool, nibbling a peanut butter sandwich.

&nb
sp; “Jenny, this is an old friend of mine, Jason Cooper.”

  He walked over and took the stool beside her. “Hi, Jenny.”

  “Hi.” The girl drank her milk and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “You in town for the tribute to Mrs. B.?”

  “Yep. Is your school involved?”

  She shook her head. “Just the high school.”

  “What grade are you in?”

  “Fifth.”

  “You like it?”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay. My mom says you write books.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What kind?”

  “The kind with gory murders and creepy villains.”

  “Wow. Neat. Did you bring a copy for my mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I read it?”

  “I don’t think that’d be a good idea. Maybe you ought to stick to Harry Potter.”

  “Gram says they’ve got too much black magic in them.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Nope. I like them.” She looked up at the sound of a horn. “There’s Mrs. Winston.” She grabbed her baseball cap and pulled it on before racing over to kiss her mother’s cheek. “See you in a couple hours. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck. Drive one over the fence.” Carrie tugged on a lock of blond hair. “Love you.”

  “You, too.”

  As her daughter raced to the door Carrie called, “Are you forgetting your manners?”

  The girl turned. “Bye, Jason. Nice meeting you.” Then she was gone.

  “She’s a great kid, Carrie. She looks just like you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. And it looks like you’re doing a fine job of raising her.”

  Carrie’s smile grew. “She thinks I’m too strict. Isn’t that a hoot? I broke every rule in the book, and spent more time in detention than anyone else in our class, and my daughter thinks I’m too strict.”

  “Are you?”

  She looked away. “Maybe I’m too aware of the pitfalls. I just don’t want her to get hurt, Jason.”

  “Yeah. But you can’t keep her in a bubble.”

  Her grin was quick. “I’d like to.” She gave him a steady look. “Wait till you have a kid someday. Then you’ll understand.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” He turned to watch as the little girl climbed into a van filled with half a dozen other girls.

  Carrie picked up the plate and glass and set them in the dishwasher. “Want something to eat?”

  “No thanks. I just had breakfast with Robeson.”

  “How did he look? I mean…” She flushed. “…does he look as successful as you?”

  Jason shrugged. “He looks satisfied with his life. I’d call that successful.”

  She turned away to stare out the window. “Did you see Emily last night?”

  “Yeah.”

  She turned back to study him. “And?”

  “And what?”

  A little cat smile touched the corners of her lips. “Try that with somebody else, Jason Cooper. I know you, remember?”

  “Yeah, you do, Carrie. Probably better than most. In case I haven’t told you, I appreciate all those letters keeping me up on things here in Devil’s Cove.”

  “I was happy to do it. Especially when you’d write back. It made me feel like I was getting away from here, if only for an hour or so.” She arched a brow. “I also know you well enough to know that you’re very good at changing the subject. So, tell me. Did you and Emily talk?”

  “A little. But not about anything important.”

  “Did she ask you why you’d left without a word?”

  He nodded.

  “And you didn’t tell her?”

  “No.”

  She rounded the kitchen island and stared at him more closely. “She deserves to know.”

  “Yeah.” He caught her hand. “Come on. Let’s go to the garden luncheon for Mrs. B.”

  She drew back. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? Come on. It’ll be fun. You’ll see all those old classmates who used to snub you.”

  She winced. “Yeah. That’s going to convince me to go. You’ll have to do better, Jason.”

  “Okay. How about this.” He tipped up her chin so he could watch her eyes. “Robeson told me he’d be there.”

  He saw her reaction and grinned. “My, my, Ms. Lester. I believe you’re blushing.”

  She slapped aside his hand. “And I believe you haven’t changed one bit. You still love teasing me every chance you get.”

  “You got that right.” He winked. “Just so you know. It sounds as though he’s happily married.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Are you?”

  She blushed again and said nothing.

  “Are you coming?”

  She started toward the hallway. “Just give me a few minutes to freshen my makeup.”

  Emily arrived at the Harbor House, dressed in what she always thought of as her lady clothes. A knee-skimming sheath in seafoam silk with a matching jacket. On her feet, simple taupe sandals. At her throat, her grandmother’s pearls, a gift on her eighteenth birthday.

  She told herself she’d arrived early because she had to see to the last-minute details of the luncheon, but she knew that wasn’t so. The catering staff of the old inn routinely handled such affairs with ease. By the time she made her way to the gardens the tables and chairs had been set on the lawn. The florist had delivered dozens of baskets of colorful daisies to grace each table. A buffet was being set up under a colorful awning. The members of the high-school string quartet were setting up their instruments. Everything was moving along smoothly. There was really nothing for her to do but wait for her committee to arrive and begin directing the guests to their seats.

  She glanced toward the upper windows of the inn, wondering which room was Jason’s, then chided herself for such foolishness. She was acting like a high-school girl with her first crush.

  That’s what Jason had been. Her first love. And though there had been others, she’d never been able to get him out of her mind. Oh, she’d managed to get on with her life after he’d left town. She’d even managed to lock him away in a secret corner of her memory. She’d convinced herself that that was all he was. A bittersweet memory from long ago.

  And now he was back in Devil’s Cove, looking so much better than she’d remembered. Still dark and brooding and secretive. But stronger somehow. Even more commanding a presence. Did that come from success? she wondered. Or from traveling the world on his own terms? Whatever the reason, he’d made her feel the way she always did when a storm was brewing. Tense. Edgy. The very air around her heavy and oppressive. And she knew that if the rain came she’d want to walk in it, oblivious to the threat of lightning.

  “Hey, Emily.” Robeson’s deep baritone broke through her thoughts as he dropped a hand on her shoulder. “You’re looking awfully serious on such a pretty day.”

  “Robeson.” She turned and flung her arms around his neck. “You were so mobbed by admirers last night we never even got a chance to properly greet each other.”

  “There’s time now.” He gave her a warm, affectionate hug. “We might even get time to talk over lunch.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “So would I. I brought your grandmother.” He nodded toward a cluster of people surrounding their old teacher. “She’s asked me to sit at her table. I hope you’re joining us.”

  “I’d love to. The caterers have set up her table in the gazebo so it can be seen by everyone at the luncheon.” She looped her arm through his and walked beside him. “I have to tell you, Robeson. Whenever I see you on TV I just feel so proud.”

  “Thanks.” He grinned. “Of course, you and Jase and Carrie had to listen to my litany of complaints long before the public heard them. I’ll bet you didn’t realize I was honing my skills on all of you.”

  “Yeah. I think we all figured you’d go on to do some pretty great things with you
r life. We just never realized how quickly you’d climb to the top.”

  He threw back his head and chuckled. “It’s a very tall ladder I’m climbing, Emily. I figure it’ll take me a lifetime or two to get to the top.”

  “But look how far you’ve gone already.” She shook her head as they approached the gazebo where the guest of honor was already taking her seat. “Advisor to the President. Consultant to kings and prime ministers. The media refers to you as the conscience of the world.”

  Robeson patted her hand. “I used to think if I was able to change just one bigot’s conscience, it would be enough for me.” He shook his head. “But these days, I’m not so sure of myself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He gave an expressive shrug of his shoulders. “Nothing. Maybe I’m just getting burned out.” He leaned close. “Come on. Let’s see what words of wisdom our old teacher will dispense today.”

  They took their places across the table from Bert and were quickly joined by Prentice Osborn and several members of the school board.

  When Jason and Carrie arrived, Bert looked up with a bright smile. “Oh, Jason. Here you are. Come join us. And you, too, Carrie.”

  Emily saw the way Carrie glanced around wildly, hoping to escape. But it was too late. Everyone at the table was looking at her. Jason put a hand beneath her elbow and helped her to a vacant chair between Robeson and Prentice, before taking the seat beside his old teacher.

  To put Carrie at ease Emily reached past Robeson to touch a hand to her arm. “How’s Jenny?”

  The mere mention of her daughter made Carrie smile. “She’s fine. She has a baseball game today.”

  “What position does she play?”

  “Shortstop. I always tease her by saying the shortest one on the team has to play that position.”

  That had the others laughing.

  Robeson said, “As I recall you were a pitcher for our girls’ team. A darn good one.”

  Carrie’s smile bloomed. “I wasn’t bad, was I? Except when you and Jason and Emily would come and watch. Then I got all flustered.”

  Emily glanced at her grandmother across the table, engaged in an animated conversation with Jason. “You were good enough that Bert thought you should try for a sport scholarship.”