Home to Whiskey Creek. Brenda Novak
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job of keeping the locals at bay, at least until dinnertime. By then she’d fielded so many calls, she was getting too tired to deal with the onslaught and took her old-fashioned phone—the kind with no voice mail or answering machine—off the hook. Everyone in Whiskey Creek wanted to show their concern. Several neighbors had brought casseroles, flowers, cards or a combination of the three. Chief Stacy had checked in to tell Adelaide he’d be working late, that if she remembered anything, anything at all, to contact him right away. And Ed Hamilton, from the Gold Country Gazette, had pleaded with Gran to have Addy call him before the day was through. He wasn’t about to miss the deadline for this week’s paper. He wanted to take advantage of having something bigger to report than the completion of movie star Simon O’Neal’s cabin not far from town.
That wasn’t how he’d described it, of course. He’d told Gran he wanted to use the power of the press to alert the community to possible danger and enlist their cooperation in apprehending the man who’d hurt Adelaide.
With a sigh at the effort moving required, Addy forced herself to come out of her bedroom in time for dinner. She was sore but somewhat rested, not that her long nap had changed her outlook. If she had her preference, she’d return to Davis until the firestorm ended. But she couldn’t leave Gran so worried and upset. It was better to stay and act as if she was as desperate for the police to find her attacker as everyone else. That meant she had to at least pretend to be cooperating.
“So...are you going to call Ed?” Gran had fully embraced the idea that appealing to the public might break the case. She’d shuffled into Addy’s room three times to talk about it, hoping, no doubt, that Addy would jump up and give Ed his interview.
“Sure.” Addy managed a reassuring smile.
“When, honey? When will you call? He’s under a deadline.”
That might be true, but what could she safely reveal? She had no idea what Kevin, Tom, Stephen or Derek might think of Ed’s article, and their perceptions were as important as reality—no, more important. If they thought she was revealing too much, or that she might expose them, she could be in danger again.
It was so hard to guess which of her former rapists had attacked her, exactly how much damage he’d hoped to do, how far he might go in the future and what his expectations might be now that she’d been warned. Other than that gruff threat, he hadn’t been particularly clear on what statements or actions would constitute a breach.
She needed to use her laptop to check the website she’d seen on her attacker’s sweatshirt. Maybe it would give some clue to his identity. Whether or not she decided to share that information, she was certainly curious.
But there was no internet here at Gran’s. Once she was back on her feet, she’d have to go to Black Gold Coffee, the only place in town that offered free Wi-Fi.
Or maybe she wouldn’t bother. What good would knowing do? She couldn’t turn him in. And one man could be as dangerous as the others. They all had the same thing to lose if she came forward, didn’t they? It was even possible that they’d gotten together and agreed on the approach that was taken.
“Addy?”
She glanced over at Gran, who had set about dishing up some meat loaf and potatoes. Gran still made breakfast and a few other simple meals. Her kitchen was her kitchen, and she liked being in charge of it. But these days Darlene used Gran’s recipes and did most of the cooking at the restaurant. The meat loaf was something Darlene had brought over the day Addy arrived. Gran was just warming it up so it wouldn’t go to waste. Addy had no idea when they’d eat all the food brought by others, because she hadn’t had much of an appetite since her return.
“I’ll call him as soon as I finish my dinner.”
Satisfied with that commitment, Gran seemed happy to relax and do what she did best—put on a meal.
The comfort of being in Gran’s kitchen, of smelling her wonderful food, eased some of Addy’s apprehension, too. She’d get through this. She’d play it smart, mind her own business and convince Kevin, Derek, Tom and Stephen that she planned to maintain her silence. That way she could stay and do right by Gran. Maybe her mother wouldn’t shoulder any responsibility, but Addy wasn’t like that, and she was bound and determined to prove it.
Gran’s orthopedic shoes squished as she navigated the kitchen without her walker. After watching her struggle to get a plate down, Addy was tempted to take over. She could’ve assembled the leftovers much more quickly and efficiently. But she knew Gran liked feeling productive, liked bringing her pleasure through food.
“Noelle came by while you were sleeping.”
Addy had been twirling a glass of orange juice. At this, she stopped. “Noelle?”
“Arnold. Don’t you remember her?”
“You mean Olivia’s sister?”
“That’s right. She wasn’t in your grade, was she?”
“Olivia was, but not Noelle. Noelle’s two years younger. So why did she drop in?”
There was a shrug in Gran’s voice when she answered. “Said she heard about what happened and felt terrible. She brought a gift from that shop where she works.”
This was completely unexpected. Addy knew her, but they’d never been friends. “Which shop is that?”
Gran had given her a lot of information over the years. Addy knew that Noelle had married the handsome Kyle Houseman even though Olivia, her sister, had been dating him only a few months before. She knew that Kyle’s proposal had a lot to do with Noelle’s pregnancy, and that Noelle had aborted the baby after they were married without telling Kyle, which pretty much destroyed any obligation he’d felt toward her and resulted in their divorce. But she didn’t know where Noelle had gone to work. She probably would’ve learned if she’d returned when Olivia married Kyle’s stepbrother, Brandon Lucero. She’d wanted to attend the ceremony. She and Olivia had called and exchanged emails for several months after she left town, but Addy had eventually stopped responding. She’d done what she could to break ties with everyone except Gran and those who helped Gran, like Darlene. She couldn’t have too many people drawing her back to Whiskey Creek....
“A Damsel’s Delights.” Gran smiled when she managed to remember the name of the store. Her mind was mostly sound, despite her age. “They have dresses, handmade jewelry, hats and other accessories.”
Addy pictured a quaint-looking shop done up in pink and brown with striped awnings and cute tea tables out front. “Oh, it’s a couple of blocks down Sutter Street. I saw it when I drove through on Saturday.” Once she’d arrived, she’d wanted to see what had changed while she’d been gone and was relieved to find that there wasn’t much she didn’t recognize. Set in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, Whiskey Creek had been founded during the gold rush and, like so many other towns with a similar history, had covered boardwalks, old-fashioned light poles and a bevy of restored Victorians and shops that maintained the nineteenth-century feel.
“She’s been running the place since her divorce.”
“Why’s she working? You told me she stuck Kyle for quite a bit of spousal maintenance.”
Gran’s voice turned sour. “She took him for everything she could. She wanted him for his money—and to hurt her sister.”
“I’m guessing it worked on both counts.”
“Sure did. Can’t say why she went back to retail. Maybe she doesn’t have anything better to do.” She clicked her tongue. “I feel sorry for her parents. She’s always been such a...difficult girl.”
Which Gran understood, thanks to her own daughter.
“Why is she reaching out to me?” Addy asked.
“She probably needs a friend. Everyone who lives here is on to her.”
It wasn’t like Gran to dislike anyone, but she clearly disliked Olivia’s younger sister.