Saltwater Cove Read online

  Table of Contents

  Introduction to Saltwater Cove

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Also by Amelia

  Author's Note

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Saltwater Cove

  Amelia Addler

  ANJ Press

  Pittsburgh

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  Saltwater Cove

  ANJ Press, First edition. November 2019.

  Copyright © November 2019 Amelia Addler.

  Written by Amelia Addler.

  Cover design by Charmaine Ross at CharmaineRoss.com

  Maps by Nate Taylor at IllustratorNate.com

  For the love that makes us whole again

  Introduction to Saltwater Cove

  At 48 years-old, Margie Clifton never expected to be starting her life all over again. But when her brother gifts her a property on San Juan Island, that’s exactly what she decides to do. After all, it’s the perfect place to start a new business venture, provide a second home for her adult children, and recover from her nasty divorce. And if her new life happens to involve the town’s gruff and ruggedly handsome Chief Deputy Sheriff? All the better.

  The last thing Hank Kowalski wants is an emotional entanglement. It’s only been two years since his beloved wife passed, and there’s no way his daughter is ready to accept him dating anyone new. Still, there’s something about Margie’s quiet strength and beauty that draws him in, making him wonder if maybe a fresh start—and possibly a new love—is exactly what he needs in his life.

  But Margie is harboring a secret—a dark one that threatens to destroy the new life she’s worked so hard to build. Can Margie and Hank find the courage and faith to overcome all that stands between them? Or will their second chance at happily ever after be lost forever?

  Chapter 1

  The ferry hummed as it slowly made its way towards San Juan Island. Margie zipped her yellow rain jacket before slipping out of the warm galley and onto the ship’s deck. The wind tore through her hair and chilled her face, but she didn’t mind. She had the deck to herself and a beautiful view of Friday Harbor ahead.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was certainly cleaner here than in Seattle. And the sweeping views of the islands were more stunning than what Puget Sound offered, as beautiful as it was. She liked living in the city, of course; it was where she built her life, and where her kids grew up. But her kids moved on and started their own lives, and she finally needed to move on, too.

  “Margie? Margie Clifton, is that you?”

  Margie took her eyes off of the glistening white sailboats in the distance. “Joan! Fancy seeing you here!”

  Joan pulled her in for a hug. “Oh you know me and Ron, always looking for a romantic getaway. How are you? How’re the kids?”

  “Great, we’re all great. And you?”

  “Oh, we’re all good too.”

  “Good.” Margie paused – she really hadn’t expected to see someone she knew, and she didn’t want to babble too much.

  “Are you just visiting for the weekend?”

  And she definitely wasn’t prepared to answer questions about what she was up to. “No, I uh – actually just bought a place on the island.”

  “Oh that’s lovely! In town, or…?”

  “No, on the west side.” Ten acres, overlooking the water. But Joan didn’t need to know that. It would sound like bragging, and Margie didn’t like to brag. She was bursting with excitement, but the whole situation would be hard to explain.

  “Oh that’s right, your brother lives out here. He flies those little planes between the islands, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s right! You have a great memory.” Technically, he used to fly planes between the islands. Now he was – well, that was none of Joan’s business. And none of Margie’s either, for that matter.

  Margie cleared her throat. “Are you and Ron staying in town?”

  “Yes, we’ll be here for two days, then we’re heading up to Orcas Island, and then back home. Just a quick little trip.”

  “That’s lovely.” Margie knew that if she kept talking, something would slip out that she shouldn’t say, and then she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. “Well, it was so nice seeing you, but I think we’re getting close to the harbor, so I’d better get back to my car.”

  “Of course! Lovely seeing you too!”

  Margie gave her a quick wave before rushing back inside and down the stairs to her car on the lowest level of the ferry.

  She truly did enjoy chatting with Joan – she’d always liked her. Their eldest daughters were only one year apart in school so they always used to run into each other. Joan was a nice person.

  “But that doesn’t mean you should tell her your life story,” Margie whispered to herself as she squeezed into the driver’s seat of her Toyota. She promptly buckled her seat belt, then laughed at herself – she wouldn’t be able to drive off of the ferry for at least ten more minutes. What did she think buckling her seatbelt would do for her? Keep her safe in case everything turned into bumper cars down there?

  She unbuckled herself and cracked the window. Just because Joan was a nice lady and their kids went to school together did not mean that Margie should tell her anything about the property she bought. That was the one thing that her brother Mike made her promise last month.

  “If anyone asks where I am, say I’m working for an airline overseas,” he said, handing her a blue ballpoint pen.

  “Right, got it.” She carefully signed and initialed her name where instructed. Mike explained that he was going back to work for the FBI again, but he couldn’t tell her much. She knew not to ask questions. Her brother was nine years her senior, and though she was all of forty-eight years old, he could still make her feel like the baby of the family in situations like these.

  “Congratulations,” he said when they both finished signing. “You just bought your first home.”

  She slipped him the $1 bill he’d requested in exchange for the property. “Are you sure I can’t pay you something more reasonable?”

  He shook his head. “This is all I’ll need. Take care of it while I’m gone, okay?”

  A voice boomed through the ferry’s speaker system. “Drivers, please return to your vehicles and prepare to disembark.”

  Margie darted a hand into her purse, digging around for her keys. Why hadn’t she had the keys ready instead of the seatbelt! Finally she found them, trapped under a water bottle. She turned the key in the ignition and waited until it was her turn to drive off of the ferry and onto San Juan Island.

  Slowly mak
ing her way off of the ship and onto Front Street, she felt a little nervous – she wanted to drop some things off at her new house before coming back into town, but the ferry was a bit late, so she was worried that she might run out of time.

  She managed to get through town quickly, though, and made her way to the other side of the island. She wasn’t technically taking the “scenic” route, yet it was still gorgeous. There was a quiet peace as she rode past the farms and little houses. Margie rolled her windows down, taking in the cool evening air.

  When she reached the beginning of her new property, she had to get out of her car to unlock the chain that blocked the long driveway. She drove up, slowly, as rocks pinged the underside of her car and dust floated into her open windows. It didn’t bother her in the least, and soon, she reached the top of the small hill which provided a breathtaking view of Westcott Bay.

  It was even more striking than she remembered. The water shimmered delicately against the bright blue sky; puffy white clouds lazily drifted by, visible through the lush green trees on the borders of the property. Margie felt her heart starting to swell.

  “There’ll be time to stand around and gawk later,” she said to herself. She pulled her car up to the house and quickly unloaded a few boxes. She was about to rush back outside when she saw an envelope taped to the back of the front door.

  Hey little sis,

  I’m really glad you took up my offer to buy this place. It’s only halfway a dump, as you can see. I’ve been fixing it up over the last few months, but it still needs some work. I’ve left the names of some good contractors I know on the islands. Tell them you know me. Then, when that doesn’t work, threaten them as you see fit.

  I’m sorry I won’t be able to be in touch for a while. I think you’ll find that there’s something magical about this place. If anything can help you put your family back together…this can.

  - Mike

  Margie swallowed, trying to break up the lump that formed in her throat. Her brother was not the sentimental type. He didn’t share emotions or deal well, for example, with his little sister having a breakdown in front of him.

  It was a few months prior that he had to witness it. Margie invited him for Christmas, and everything went horribly wrong. The one toilet in her apartment clogged, she burned the ham, and her downstairs neighbor came up three times to complain about how loud they were.

  After all the kids turned in for the night, Margie lost it. Mike just stood there, arms crossed, as she cried.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, gathering empty plates and bits of wrapping paper. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

  He stared at her before responding. “It’s probably because you’re trying to fit your three adult kids and your old brother into a one bedroom apartment for the holiday.”

  “Well, yes. That’s it. That’s all. Nothing a little plunger can’t fix, right?” She only got to the sink before she started sobbing again. “I don’t know, Mike. I don’t know how to make it work. I feel like…days like this just make it seem like the divorce has ruined my family. Do you think I can ever make it right again?”

  He thought for a moment. “I don’t know.”

  Margie carefully folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket. She couldn’t get sentimental right now; she was a woman on a mission.

  Inside her purse, carefully zipped into a side pocket, was a photo of a woman. She reached in and pulled it out. There was no way she could put her family back together until she faced this woman from her past.

  A woman whose secret was tied to her and her family.

  A woman who was, apparently, dead.

  Chapter 2

  Hank leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun round and round. Twenty-eight minutes until his shift was over – barring any disaster, of course.

  He heard the front door open, followed by some chatter between Lola, their secretary, and an unfamiliar voice. He kept watching the ceiling fan; it was just slightly more exciting than a clock.

  “Excuse me, Chief? I’ve got someone who needs to talk to you.”

  “No you don’t Lola,” said Hank without looking away from the fan. “I’m sure that one of our fine deputies could help this person.”

  “Nope,” said Lola matter-of-factly. “Everyone else is busy.”

  Hank looked around the room. It did look like everyone was on the phone or talking to someone. “They’re all pretending.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Lola said with a flat tone.

  Hank put his feet back up on his desk and leaned back, closing his eyes. If this was someone coming to tell him that their neighbor’s cat kept pooping in their garden, or that tourists weren’t stopping fully at a stop sign, or that they suspected someone was harboring illegal fireworks – well, there was no need to open his eyes.

  He heard Lola clear her throat. “This is the Chief Deputy Sheriff. Chief Hank, I’d like you to meet Margie Clifton. She’s got some questions for you.”

  “Margie,” he said, keeping his eyes closed as though he were meditating, “what’s your emergency?”

  “Oh! It’s not really an emergency – I didn’t realize that coming here would make it seem that way. It’s actually – well it’s something that’s already happened, I don’t think…well, I’m not sure actually…”

  Hank opened his eyes. He didn’t recognize the woman. Her yellow jacket was hard to look at, almost like looking into the sun. Or maybe it was all this nervous energy that she carried with her.

  “Something that already happened?” he said slowly.

  “I’m not sure. I just moved to the island – today, in fact. But last month, I was leaving the island after a visit and on the ferry I found this picture.” She shot a hand into her large purse, pulling out a cut out from a newspaper. “And it just says ‘In Memoriam.’ But I know this woman, well, I knew her years ago. I just can’t remember her name.”

  Hank leaned forward to look at the picture. “So you know her, but not her name?”

  “Yes, I met her about…it must have been twenty some years ago. But then she disappeared from my life, and I could never find her again.”

  What kind of a tale was this lady turning? “And now you need to know her name?”

  “Yes.”

  Hank sighed. There were posters up all over town for this dead woman. “Her name was Kelly Allen. She was killed in a hit and run a few months ago while visiting the island.”

  “Oh.” Margie studied the picture closely for a moment before returning it back into her purse.

  “Anything else?”

  “One more thing. Kelly had a child. Would you happen to know his or her name?”

  Hank sat up. “Listen lady. This is the sheriff’s office. We’re not here to investigate relatives of dead tourists. Maybe you should try a family tree website. Or Facebook.”

  The woman looked down, then back at him. “Oh, right. Well, thank you for your help, Chief…?”

  “Hank.”

  “Chief Hank,” she said with a smile.

  He shook his head. “No, just Hank. That’s – Hank’s fine.”

  “It was nice meeting you Hank.”

  “Take care,” he called out, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head.

  She seemed to take the hint and left without another word.

  “Hey Chief,” yelled one of the deputies, “I didn’t know we were running such a tight ship around here and we couldn’t help people find the relatives of lost friends.”

  “Didn’t you know?” added another. “We don’t have time to talk to island newbies with all this serious crime busting we’re doing. Chief caught two dogs at large last week.”

  The room erupted into laughter.

  “Any one of you boneheads could’ve stepped in to be her personal background checker,” Hank replied. “But you were all pretending to be busy.”

  More laughter.

  Hank sighed and looked at the clock. Eighteen more min
utes. How was that possible? The week was really dragging. Plus he had to work the entirety of the upcoming Memorial Day weekend. That was always a doozy.

  He leaned forward and unlocked his computer screen, figuring that he should check for any emails before he left for the day. When it finally loaded, he saw that there was nothing. Well that was good – he hated answering emails.

  Sixteen minutes.

  He opened up the program for background checks and searched Kelly Allen. Originally from Oregon. One husband, alive. One kid alive. Morgan Allen, twenty-two years old.

  None of them had any criminal history. No aliases, no arrests. Nothing interesting. What did old sunshine jacket want with them anyway? Was she just another hoity toity rich lady looking for a cause? He wasn’t going to let her bother this mourning family. They didn’t need to deal with some bored socialite.

  Hank managed to run out the clock on his shift by cleaning up his desk and washing out two coffee mugs that he’d allowed to sit for too long. He wished everyone a good night before heading out to his car; he decided to go to his favorite pizza place for dinner again. He knew that eating out often was bad for him, and he definitely put on some extra weight around the middle, but he couldn’t bring himself to cook just for one person.

  He got his usual two slices of pizza, washed them down with a Coke, and headed home. His house was dark and quiet when he arrived. He turned on the TV, folded some laundry, then got ready for bed. Four more days of work until he had a day off.

  The next morning, he overslept his alarm and was fifteen minutes late getting to work. He used to hate being late – it really stressed him out. But now? Now it was just another entry on the long list of things that didn’t matter.

  When he opened the door to the office there was already a buzz of activity. It didn’t take him long to see what the fuss was about – little miss sunshine was back at it again. He paused for a moment and studied her as she laughed and talked with the deputies. She was an older woman, certainly not bad looking. Was she flirting with the staff? And were they flirting back?