Just a Wish Away Page 2

  Like so many of her childhood dreams, living in a big house on her favorite beach was one that had fallen by the wayside. The same was true for her dream of becoming a glassmaker, of turning beautiful pieces of sea glass into something amazing, and also her dream of marrying her best friend. But those had been the dreams of an idealistic girl, who'd thought everything in life would always be perfect, exactly like that perfect summer kiss from Braden the very last time she'd seen him.

  She was a different person now. She could barely remember that naïve girl, but she'd never forgotten her first kiss.

  Unfortunately, her relationship with Braden had not lasted past that summer. Her parents' divorce had changed her life in every possible way. She and her mom had moved back East, far away from the Washington coast. Her dad had ended up in Los Angeles a few years later and had remarried and had other children.

  The first few years she'd tried to keep in touch with Braden, but she'd had her hands full dealing with her mom's extreme depression and the move to a new city and a new school. Sand Harbor had seemed very far away. Their contact had faded to occasional calls and emails and then eventually nothing.

  Braden had had his own problems to deal with, including the death of his father, who'd been killed in action when Braden was fifteen. She'd tried to get in touch with him then, but he'd never called her back. Her mother said she couldn't afford to fly her across the country for the funeral. That was pretty much the end of their tenuous relationship.

  Years passed, and she dated other guys, but she was never quite able to get Braden out of her mind. Thinking she'd give it one more shot, she'd gone to Sand Harbor right after her college graduation. She was too late. She was shocked to learn that Braden had married at twenty, just weeks before enlisting in the Army.

  The dream of her heart was finally shut down. Braden was taken. He was with someone else. She had to move on with her life.

  That had been six years ago.

  Now she was back in Sand Harbor, and she had no idea where Braden was, but it didn't matter. She wasn't here for Braden, she was here for her aunt, Phoebe Gray, who had been injured in a break-in at her antique store. While Alexa had been kept away from everyone connected to her father's side of the family, she had reunited with her father's older sister, Phoebe, on her last visit to Sand Harbor.

  They'd been in frequent contact since then, a fact she'd happily kept from her mother, who was still quite bitter about that side of the family. But Alexa didn't blame her aunt or her uncle or her cousins for her parents' divorce. And she'd enjoyed getting to know them again over the past few years. Most of the contact was over email or through online social sites, but it was a start. When her cousin, Evie, had called her at dawn to tell her about the robbery, she'd immediately said she was on her way. She hadn't always been there for her aunt, but she could be there now.

  She'd caught the first plane out of San Francisco, rented a car, and made the two-hour drive from Seattle to Sand Harbor. She'd stopped at the hospital first, but her aunt was unconscious, and the doctor said it could be hours before she woke up. Several of Phoebe's friends were in the waiting room, so reassured that her aunt would not be alone when she woke up, Alexa had decided to track down Evie and see what was happening with the police investigation.

  Pulling into a spot down the street from her aunt's antique shop, aptly named Yesterday Once More, she drew in a deep breath and then stepped out of the car. The store was one of many boutiques on a downtown side street. Although, there was some foot traffic, there weren't quite as many tourists on this block. The shop sat between a vintage clothing store and a beauty salon. A small walkway separated the antique shop from the salon; a path many used to cut through to the main post office on the next block.

  As Alexa approached the shop, she was again assailed with memories. Her aunt had opened Yesterday Once More thirty years ago, and almost everyone in the family had worked there at some time or another, herself included. She'd loved helping out in the store on her summer vacations. Like her aunt, she was captivated by anything that was old and came with a story. Imagining where the pieces had come from and who had used them had been one of her favorite pastimes.

  Her gut tightened as she reached the shop. The big bay window was intact, but the glass over the front door had been shattered and was now boarded up with wood. Remnants of yellow crime scene tape clung to the frame. She still couldn't believe someone had broken into the shop. There had not been a lot of crime in Sand Harbor when she was growing up, but perhaps things had changed.

  Seeing someone inside the shop, she tried the doorknob, but it was locked, so she knocked. A moment later, a woman's face peered around the corner of a large desk in the front window. Alexa waved, recognizing her cousin's dark brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Evie was the oldest daughter of her father's brother, Stan.

  "Alexa," Evie, said with a relieved smile, as she opened the door. "I'm so glad you came."

  Alexa gave Evie a hug and then glanced around the crowded showroom. Her aunt had always had plenty of inventory, but she'd also been very disciplined about keeping her displays organized. Now, everything was in chaos. Smaller items were strewn across the floor and on some of the tables and desks. There was broken glass as well as shattered tiles and ceramics on the floor. It looked as if the thief had been more interested in destroying the pieces rather than stealing them, but that didn't make sense.

  "Wow," she murmured. "I had no idea it would be this bad."

  Evie nodded, her lips drawing together in a tense line. "It's horrible."

  "Have the police caught the person or people who did this?"

  "Not yet. The Chief of Police, Edwin Hayes, actually found Aunt Phoebe. They're good friends, and he said he'd had a hunch she might be working late, so he'd stopped by. If he hadn't done so, it might have been morning before anyone found her. She'd already lost a lot of blood by the time the paramedics got there.

  Alexa followed her cousin's gaze to the dark red stain on the floor by the front counter. Her stomach turned over as she realized how close her aunt had come to losing her life.

  "They don’t know if Aunt Phoebe was struck from behind or if she hit her head on the counter when she fell, but she has a big gash on the back of her head," Evie added.

  "I saw the bandage around her head. I stopped by the hospital on my way here. She was asleep and surrounded by friends. I thought I might be of more help if I came here."

  Evie nodded. "That makes sense. I'm going to stop by this evening. Aunt Phoebe's friend, Louise, promised to call me if there's any change." Evie paused. "I feel so bad about what happened. It's partly my fault."

  "Why would you say that?" Alexa asked in surprise.

  "I came by here yesterday afternoon. Aunt Phoebe had just gotten in a big delivery from the Wellbourne estate, all those boxes," she added, pointing to a stack of eight to ten boxes, some of which were opened and upturned on the floor, some of which were still sealed. "She told me she was going to come back after dinner and get a head start on unpacking, because the weekends are so busy and she wanted to make room in the store before the tourists descended."

  "You couldn't have predicted a robbery, Evie."

  "No, but I knew she was going to be in the store late at night. I should have tried to dissuade her from coming in alone or persuaded her to wait until today. I also could have offered to help. Beverly Adams, Aunt Phoebe's assistant, is on vacation until next week."

  "Evie, stop it. Aunt Phoebe wouldn't have been persuaded to wait even if you'd tried to talk her into it. This shop is her baby and she watches over it like a hawk. Besides that, she's stubborn."

  "Stubbornness is a Parker family trait," Evie said with a sigh.

  "Exactly."

  "I'm so glad you were able to come, Alexa. My parents are in Europe right now, and I haven't been able to catch up with them yet, so I want to make sure I'm taking care of everything."

  "I'll help you however I can." Alexa said.

  "I app
reciate that. Did you speak to your parents? Is your father coming?"

  "I left a message for my dad, but he hasn't returned my call. That's not unusual. We don't talk often, especially since his wife had another baby."

  "I can't believe your father is having babies at his age," Evie said, raising an eyebrow.

  "His wife is fourteen years younger," she said, deliberately keeping her tone neutral. She didn't want to get into her feelings about her dad's marriage. She should have been used to it all by now. It had been twelve years since he'd married his second wife, and this new baby was number four.

  "And your mom?" Evie asked somewhat tentatively.

  "She's actually the best I've seen her in years. She got remarried last year, and her husband is in the wine business. She often goes on trips with him, and she seems happy."

  "I'm glad for her and for you."

  "Thanks."

  "Aunt Phoebe will be happy to see you when she wakes up."

  Alexa liked the hopeful note in Evie's voice. She didn't want to think about the possibility that her aunt would never wake up. That was too awful to contemplate. "So what can I do?" she asked.

  "If you want to start with clean up, that would be great. I have to pick up my twins from school in a few minutes, so I won't be able to do much more today. If you unpack anything, just make sure to write down each item with a brief description. Aunt Phoebe is a stickler for details."

  "I remember that from when I worked here as a kid."

  "Some things don't change," Evie said with a smile.

  "So the shipment is from an estate?"

  "The Wellbournes. They own that big house on the bluff."

  "Oh, sure," she said. That house had served as the foundation for many a daydream, not only because it was enormous, but also because there had always been an air of mystery about it. She and Braden had made up numerous stories about the people who had stayed there.

  "Jack Wellbourne died last week, and left some of his antiques to Aunt Phoebe."

  "That was nice of him."

  "She was very excited to see what he'd left her. Apparently, he was quite a collector." Evie grabbed some keys off the counter and tossed them to her. "Lock up when you leave. In fact, you might want to keep the door locked until we're sure there won't be any more trouble." She paused. "If you'd rather not be here alone, we can leave this for later."

  That was a tempting thought, but Alexa knew that her aunt would want the shop put back in order as soon as possible, and she had nothing else to do. It was broad daylight, and there were a number of people on the street, so she didn't feel in any danger.

  "I don't mind cleaning up and getting some pieces inventoried," she said. "I might as well do something productive."

  "If it makes you feel better, the police said they'd keep an eye on the shop for the next few days."

  "That's good."

  "Where are you staying?"

  "I reserved a room at the Cheshire Inn."

  "You could have stayed with us. Although, twin six-year-olds, two dogs and a cat make life a little hectic."

  "But you're happy," Alexa said, seeing the sparkle of pride and love in Evie's eyes when she talked about her family.

  "I am stressed a lot of the time, but life is still pretty wonderful." Her gaze softened. "It's good to have you here, Alexa. I hate what happened to our family. One minute we were all spending awesome summers and holidays together, and then you and your parents were gone. I missed you."

  "I missed you, too."

  "Did you miss anyone else? Like Braden Elliott?" Evie asked with a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

  "Braden was my friend a long time ago."

  "You two were inseparable that last summer you were here." Evie paused. "He's back, you know."

  Her heart jumped. "Really? I thought he was serving overseas."

  "He was until three months ago. Aunt Phoebe didn't tell you?"

  "No, but I've been busy with tax season. We haven't been emailing lately." She cleared her throat. "Is Braden still in the Army?"

  "I think he's done. He was injured in action several months ago. I don't know the details, but he was in a hospital for about two weeks before he came back here. I've only seen him once from a distance, and at the time he was using a cane. That was awhile ago."

  Her throat tightened at the thought of Braden being hurt. "I'm sorry to hear that, but he has a wife to help him get through it."

  Evie shook her head. "Not anymore. She asked him for a divorce before he was even out of the hospital."

  "Are you serious? How could she do that to her injured husband?"

  "She's a bitch from what I hear. I don't know her. But most people think she's pretty hard-hearted. Anyway, Braden rented an apartment and has been keeping to himself since he got home." She paused. "Maybe you should go by and see him."

  "I don't think so," she said quickly.

  "Why not?"

  It was a good question. And the real answer was because she was scared. But she couldn't begin to explain her muddled thoughts to Evie. So she said, "Because we don't know each other anymore. I'm sure I'm the last person he wants to see right now. Braden is part of my past. He was a childhood crush, that's all. There's nothing between us now."

  Evie shrugged and gave her a small smile. "Not yet anyway."

  * * *

  "You need to work, Braden. And I could use your help."

  Braden rocked the wooden chair in his kitchen back on two legs, folded his arms across his chest, ignored the ache in his healing ribs and stared across the table at his longtime friend, Drew Lassen. Drew had gone from skateboarder to police officer, a path Braden had never foreseen his once wild and rebellious friend taking. But then they'd both changed a lot since their high school days. "I'm not a cop," he said simply. "And I don’t need to work. I'm supposed to be resting."

  "You've been resting, and you can't sit in this apartment all day every day." Drew glanced around the room, a frown spreading across his face as he took in the bare furnishings. "This place sucks."

  "It's fine."

  "It's depressing. You should have gone to your mom's house."

  He shook his head. "The last thing I need is my mother hovering over me."

  "Where's the rest of your stuff?"

  "Kinley has it," he said shortly.

  "You're being generous to a woman who doesn't deserve it."

  "There's nothing she has that I want anymore." As the words left his mouth, he realized just how true they were.

  "Fine, but I've known you a long time, and you're not someone who just sits around."

  "I'm recuperating, didn't you hear?" he asked, a cynical note in his voice as he remembered all the platitudes he'd been offered by the doctors who'd attended to him in recent months, as if time would heal all his wounds. That simply wasn't possible. Most of his wounds weren't physical.

  "You look like you're ready to be back on your feet," Drew said.

  "I'm sure you have enough manpower to keep the citizens of Sand Harbor safe," he said.

  "Ordinarily yes, but two officers are out sick and another is on vacation. Plus, I need to provide extra security for Daniel Stone's fundraiser on Saturday night. He's launching his senate campaign here in Sand Harbor this weekend."

  "Trying to remind the locals he was born here?" Braden asked cynically. Daniel Stone's parents owned a house in Sand Harbor, but the Stones were very wealthy and had homes all over the world.

  "I don't care about his reason, just what it means for me – which is more security."

  "I'm sure he can afford to hire his own security."

  "Well, I don't need your help with Stone." Drew paused. "Did you hear about the break-in at Phoebe Gray's antique shop?"

  "No," he said, his gut tightening at the mention of Alexa's aunt. No matter how many years passed, every time he saw Phoebe or heard something about her, he thought about Alexa.

  "It happened last night," Drew said. "I'm surprised no one told you."

 
; "I haven't spoken to anyone." Since he'd returned home, his mother and sister had been driving him crazy, asking him every two seconds how he felt, whether he needed anything. He knew they were concerned, but he needed to be on his own for a while so he could sort out his life.

  "Phoebe went down to her store last night and interrupted a robbery. She was knocked out and has a serious concussion."

  He was shocked. "I can't believe it. Do you have any leads?"

  "None. We've had some vandalism around town, but nothing to this extent, and certainly no one was assaulted in the previous incidents. We're hoping when Phoebe wakes up, she'll be able to give us some information, but until then, I'd like to get your help. You can use some of those investigative skills you acquired in Army Intelligence."

  "Did you run this by your boss?" he asked doubtfully.

  "I mentioned it to Chief Hayes. I made it clear that you would just be helping out on a peripheral level, and he was fine with it. He's good friends with Phoebe and he doesn't want to leave any stone unturned. He's also aware that we're shorthanded, and you have an excellent background for this kind of work. Plus, you're a local boy. People will talk to you."

  "I don't know, Drew."

  "Do you have something better to do?" Drew challenged.

  "Obviously I don't," he said. "What exactly do you expect me to do?"

  "Look around the store, see if we missed anything, ask some questions, talk to the other shop owners."

  "I suppose I could do that," he said slowly. He liked Phoebe, and she was Alexa's aunt. He wondered if Alexa had heard about the robbery. He drew in a deep breath, just the thought of her unsettling him. It had been years since he'd let himself think about her for longer than a second. "I'll stop by there tomorrow."

  "Go today," Drew said as he got to his feet. "Let me know if you find anything."

  * * *

  It was six o'clock and the May sky was starting to darken when Braden approached the antique store. He'd always liked twilight -- that in between time between day and night when everything seemed very still. It was a Wednesday evening and most of the shops closed up by five during the week.