The Mill River Redemption Read online

  “Oh, yeah.” Kyle grinned, and his ears turned pink. “I just can’t believe it myself, I guess.”

  “Nothing wrong with being a proud papa.” Claudia snuggled closer to Kyle. He lifted an arm so that she could slide in beneath it and rest her head against his chest. “And it’s good for her to read over the summer. Lots of kids don’t do anything but watch TV once school’s out. When school starts, their brains are still on vacation.” She yawned. “I think tomorrow I’ll start one of the books I got.”

  “It sure must be nice being a teacher, not having to work during the summer,” Kyle said. “Sleeping late every day, reading novels, eating bonbons—”

  “I haven’t been eating bonbons!”

  Kyle laughed and hugged her closer. “I know, I’m just teasing. And I’m not looking forward to starting my shift in the morning.”

  “Well, we’ve got a little time before you need to turn in. Do you want to watch TV? Or, hey, don’t you have cable now? Maybe there’s something on HBO.”

  “Oh, so now television is good?” Kyle said.

  Claudia sat up a little, ready to unleash a witty retort in response to his latest tease, but she never got the chance. Before she could get one word out, he was kissing her. He reached his free hand around to run his fingers through her hair and, after a minute, he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her onto his lap.

  “You don’t suppose she’s asleep yet?” Claudia whispered as Kyle’s lips moved down her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes.

  “Not a chance,” he said softly. “But she can’t stay awake all night.”

  “And you can?”

  Kyle laughed and took her face in both of his hands. “Do you remember that night, oh, about five months ago, when we had dinner at the King’s Lodge?”

  Claudia would never forget that first night they’d spent together. She smiled and kissed him, thrilled that he had been the one to bring it up. “Valentine’s Day.”

  “Um-hmm. And do you remember the surprise snowstorm, and how we came back here to watch a movie and couldn’t because we lost power?

  “Yes,” Claudia breathed. Kyle’s hands had slipped beneath her shirt, and the feeling of his fingers on her bare skin made it extremely difficult for her to concentrate.

  “So you’ll probably remember, then, that we were both awake for most of that night.”

  “We were,” Claudia admitted. “And sleep is overrated.”

  Kyle pulled her tight against his chest. She was so focused on his mouth and his wandering hands that she forgot all about Emily DiSanti.

  EMILY WAS UP EARLY THE NEXT MORNING. GUS DIDN’T SHARE HER energy, however. He lay across the foot of her bed and lifted his head, watching as she got herself cleaned up and dressed, before lowering it back down with a groan.

  “You out of sorts, Gus?” Emily asked him, rubbing his ears. He responded with a whine and a few thumps of his tail. Poor thing, she thought. She completely understood his reluctance to get up. For a minute, she toyed with the idea of climbing back under the covers, but she had absolutely no food in the house for herself, and she needed to see about finding some sort of job. Also, as much as she preferred not to think about it after their horrible first exchange the day before, she knew that she would need to have a conversation with Rose at some point to work out how best to move forward.

  By the time she had gotten groceries and turned back onto Main Street, the little town was fully awake. There were a few other cars on the street, and people were bustling in and out of the bakery and the other shops. Although she intended to go back to the little house, unload her groceries, and take Gus over to visit Ivy, Emily had a sudden idea as she spotted the hardware store. She pulled into a parking space and went over to the store just as an older man inside turned a sign hanging on the door so that OPEN faced out.

  “Good morning, young lady,” he said as she entered. “Can I help you with something?”

  Emily smiled warmly. “Maybe,” she said. “Are you the owner of this store?”

  “I am,” he said, puffing his chest out a bit. “Name’s Henry Turner. And you are?”

  “Emily DiSanti,” she said, and immediately, Henry’s expression changed.

  “You’re one of Josie’s daughters,” he said, nodding. “Your mom was my Realtor when I bought this place about ten years ago. You and your sister had already moved away by then, but I got to know your mom pretty well over the years. She was a sweet lady. I’m real sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Emily replied. “Mom’s the reason I’m in town, actually. I’m tying up some issues with her estate, and I expect to be here for some time. I was wondering if you might be in need of any sort of help with the store? I’m pretty handy, and I could be available full time or part time.”

  “Hmm.” Henry’s brow furrowed as he looked at her, and Emily recognized his expression as one she’d seen dozens of times. He was sizing her up, wondering whether someone like her could be helpful to customers looking to buy tools or pipe fittings or paint.

  “I have quite a bit of experience in home repair and renovation. For the last several years, I’ve been supporting myself by restoring old Victorian homes in San Francisco. I can do pretty much everything—plumbing, painting, even a little electrical work,” Emily said.

  “You don’t say?” Henry asked. The wrinkles in his forehead became more pronounced as his eyebrows shot up. “How’d you learn to do all that?”

  Emily chuckled. “While I was growing up, I was the one who fixed everything that broke in our house. My mom was always too busy and my older sister was too lazy, to be honest. Later on, I helped Mom spruce up properties she was trying to sell.” Emily paused and considered carefully how to describe the next phase of her life. “After I left Mill River, the first job I got was as an assistant to a contractor. He taught me a lot. I started taking some courses at technical schools, too, when I had the time and money. Eventually, I moved further west and began doing jobs on my own. I enjoy it.”

  Henry looked at her without speaking for a minute. He walked over to one of the shelves, selected a tool from a display, and held it up. “Can you tell me what this is?”

  “That’s a pipe wrench.”

  “Yes. What’s it used for?”

  “You use it to tighten iron plumbing pipes and fittings.”

  “That’s right. Why would you use this kind of wrench for that job?”

  Emily smiled a little, amused at Henry’s pop quiz. “Well, it’s adjustable. Lots of pipes and fittings are made of soft iron. And, they’re smooth and rounded, without the angles that a standard wrench needs to get a good grip. A pipe wrench has metal teeth, and the jaws tighten when you apply forward pressure. You need both those things to get a secure grip on a soft iron pipe.” Emily’s smile grew wider as Henry’s mouth dropped open, and she decided to throw in a bit more for good measure. “You wouldn’t usually use a pipe wrench on anything made of hardened steel, like a hex nut, because the teeth would ruin it.”

  “Well, shoot,” he said finally. “With what you know, you’re just the kind of person I’d hire if I could. The truth is, though, that I really don’t have the budget to offer you a decent job. I could maybe give you ten or twelve hours a week at minimum wage, just for the summer. It’s not much, but it’d give me some flexibility during our busy season, and it’d be a little change in your pocket.”

  “I wouldn’t turn it down, Mr. Turner,” Emily said, “so long as you understand that I’d have to take a second job once I find one.”

  “Call me Henry,” he said. “And sure, I’d expect you need more than a few hours here. In fact, I actually have an idea about that. I’m sure you know Fitz and Ruth, the police chief and his wife?”

  Emily nodded. “Ruth was my mom’s best friend.”

  “They own that big white house up on the hill now,” Henry continued, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of the McAllister mansion. “They’re looking to turn the house into a bed-and-br
eakfast, and I have a feeling they might need some help getting it ready. I haven’t seen the inside, but it’s an old place. There’s bound to be all sorts of things that need to be fixed or updated, and your experience would be perfect for that.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Emily said. “Thank you so much for the tip, Henry. I’ll speak with Ruth about it as soon as I can.”

  “Good,” Henry said with a smile. “And if you want to come by here around noon tomorrow, we can fill out some paperwork and decide on your schedule.”

  Emily gave Henry her contact information and left the hardware store with a grin on her face. Once back in her Impreza, she sat quietly for a few minutes before starting the engine. Maybe the good news on the job front was a sign that she had made the right decision in returning to Mill River. Maybe she really was supposed to be here. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, whether her dealings with Rose would go equally as well.

  ROSE WAS FEELING FRUSTRATED AND SLIGHTLY CLAUSTROPHOBIC. She sat on the sofa in the sweltering living room of her tiny summer house surrounded by half-open boxes, assorted pieces of her own furniture, and heaps of items that she had already unpacked. It didn’t help that the house was full of the furnishings her mother had used over the years to stage her listings, as well as countless books and knickknacks and boxes of clothes. Even after he had reloaded some of her things back into the U-Haul, she was still “buried in her own crap,” as Sheldon had so helpfully pointed out.

  With her son upstairs reading in his room, as usual, Rose looked around at those boxes she had yet to open, trying to figure out which one held what she was looking for. She began hefting them around, restacking and shaking them, until she heard a faint clink inside one of them. Her hands trembled as she ripped open the tape across the top and dug through the folded linens inside. Two bottles of gold rum were nestled safely together under the towels.

  Rose grabbed the bottles and headed into the kitchen. There were two full ice cube trays in the freezer, thank God, and she still had a few cans of Diet Coke left over from the drive from the city. She opened the kitchen cupboards methodically until she found one that contained drinking glasses. Rose felt giddy and slightly frenzied as she twisted ice cubes out of the tray and opened one of the rum bottles. She could make a rum and Coke in her sleep.

  With the first sip of the drink, Rose felt a wave of relaxation roll over her. She downed the rest and poured herself another before returning to the sofa. It was odd, how the temperature in the house seemed to decrease as she savored the sweet burn of the second drink.

  Rose let her head fall back against the sofa. She was finally feeling comfortable when the doorbell rang. She ignored it at first, but after the fourth ring, she scowled and hauled herself to her feet.

  At the door, Rose peered through the peephole.

  Her sister stood on the stoop.

  Rose muttered a curse, but she knew that ignoring Emily would only delay the inevitable. She unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door, leaving the screen door in place.

  Emily’s expression was one of surprise and uncertainty. For a long minute, they stared at each other, but neither of them spoke. Finally, Rose broke the silence.

  “Well?”

  Emily crossed her arms. “We should put what happened yesterday behind us and talk about how we’re going to do this.”

  “All right. Talk.”

  Emily looked pointedly at the screen door that separated them. Rose sighed and rolled her eyes. She stepped out onto the stoop and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the setting sun.

  “Look, I don’t want this to be any harder than it has to,” Emily said. “Do you have a copy of Mom’s letter?”

  “Yes.”

  “So do I. I’ve read it a bazillion times, and I assume you’ve done the same thing. The letter says we each have a clue hidden, and the clues are different from each other. I think we ought to take inventory of everything in our houses and then compare.”

  Rose thought about that. It was a reasonable, logical course of action, but the mere thought of trying to make sense of the jumbled mess inside her house—to “take inventory”—gave her a headache. It was annoying, how a conversation of twenty seconds with her sister had completely killed her buzz.

  Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for her response. “Do you have a better idea?” she finally asked, with an edge to her voice.

  “I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to, but I’ll need a few days,” Rose said, raising her chin. “This whole place is full of the crap Mom put in here, and I’m not even close to unpacking my own things, much less going through all her stuff.”

  Emily’s jaw tensed. “Fine. Today’s Monday. Take the next few days and make a list of everything in there that you didn’t bring with you. We can meet Thursday morning, at my house, to go over the lists. With any luck, we’ll figure out the clues and find the key quickly. We could be done with this whole thing by the end of the week.” She looked Rose full in the eyes before she turned and left.

  Rose went back inside and shut the door. She was surprised to find Alex standing in the living room.

  “Was that Aunt Emily?” he asked. Alex held a thick book under one arm. He shoved his glasses further up on his nose as he looked at her.

  “Yes, sweetie.”

  “Why did she come over?”

  Rose sighed. She walked back to the sofa and picked up her nearly empty glass. There were three tiny pieces of ice left in it, floating in the last diluted bit of her drink. “She wanted to talk about how we’re going to find the clues that Grandma left us.”

  “Oh.”

  Rose swirled the remaining liquid in her glass before taking it all into her mouth. Alex didn’t move from the place where he stood. “What is it, honey?” she asked once she swallowed the mouthful.

  “Why don’t you and Aunt Emily like each other?”

  It was a question she’d expected to have to deal with at some point, and she sighed before responding. “Because of something that happened a long time ago, something you wouldn’t understand right now. I’ll explain it once you’re a little older.” Rose watched Alex’s face as he thought about her answer, and she was thankful when he didn’t try to argue the point.

  “Don’t you and Aunt Emily have to find the clues to get Grandma’s safe-deposit-box key?”

  “That’s what the letter says.”

  “How are you going to do that if you don’t like each other?”

  “Your aunt and I are going to make a list of everything in these two houses. Once that’s done, we should be able to see what’s different on the lists. Two of those things should be the clues.”

  “Oh. Well, can I help make the list of stuff that’s here?”

  Rose felt a little spark of glee at her son’s offer. She smiled at him, and the grin that stretched across his face went straight to her heart. For a minute, he was a baby again, smiling at her, toothless and blissfully happy. His nine-year-old smile was bigger and had teeth but was otherwise unchanged. However, she had changed.

  “Sure! That’d be great! We’ve got plenty of time, though. We don’t have to show our list to Aunt Emily until Thursday morning.”

  “That’s cool, Mom.” Alex said. “I can’t wait to figure out what the clues are! Can I start working on it right now?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Rose said. “Oh, and what do you want for dinner? I haven’t gone food shopping yet, but I could call in an order to Pizza Hut.”

  “Okay,” Alex said. He was examining a stack of boxes in the far corner of the living room. “Hey, Mom, this box has Aunt Ivy’s name on it,” he said. The top of the box was closed with the flaps tucked beneath each other, but it pulled open easily. “It’s full of books! They look like they’re really old.”

  Alex brought several of the books from the box to show her. They were paperbacks with faded, worn covers and yellowed pages.

  “Huh,” she said as she glanced down
at the titles. They were all classics—A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, The Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Count of Monte Cristo. “Have you read any of these yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, you should. It’s been years since I read them, but they’re all great. I loved The Count of Monte Cristo. It’s like, the ultimate tale of revenge.” She paused and looked over at the opened book box. “You know, every once in a while when your aunt Emily and I were growing up, Aunt Ivy would give Grandma a big box of old books. They were the ones she couldn’t sell and that the library didn’t want. Sometimes the covers were ripped off, and a lot of them had pages that were falling out. Grandma still read them to us, though. As long as she could see the words on the page, that’s all that mattered.” Rose smirked. “I’ll bet these are all rejects from The Bookstop.”

  “Can I have them, then?” Alex asked. “I could take the whole box up to my room.”

  “Sure. Just be careful with the box—it’s heavy. You should probably take the books out and make a few trips.”

  Alex cleared out the books in no time and disappeared back to his room. Rose called in an order to Pizza Hut. She had actually made progress unpacking some of her clothes by the time the doorbell rang again.

  That was fast, Rose thought. She pulled her wallet from her purse and hurried to the door.

  Instead of the pizza delivery person, Daisy Delaine glanced up at her and nervously fingered a jar that was filled with some sort of bright orange liquid and wrapped with a matching ribbon.

  Rose squeezed her eyes shut as she processed the identity of her visitor. It didn’t take her long to remember where they had last met.

  “Miss Rose,” Daisy said with a slight stammer, “I heard you were back in town for the summer, Miss Rose.” She swallowed hard, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I still feel awful about what happened at your mom’s house. I decided to come tell you again how sorry I still am for what I did to your mother’s ashes. I made this special, for you,” she continued, holding up the jar. “It’s a forgiveness potion.”