CHAPTER 18

“And do you promise to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

The bailiff finished swearing in Cole for Don Rathbone’s bail hearing at the Barnstable County Courthouse. Hank Jacobs returned to sit by Julie, Quentin, and Margo, who were seated behind the bar on the right side of the courtroom, just behind the district attorney. Hank had testified as to Don’s attacks on Julie. Several onlookers shifted impatiently in the hard, pew-like courtroom seats as Cole got settled on the stand.

Julie watched the proceedings with interest. She’d never been in a courtroom before, let alone had to testify for anything. She thought she’d done a decent job on the stand when she described Don’s attacks, and the Rathbones’ physical state when she’d examined them, but there was no way to tell until the judge made his decision.

Quentin was to her right, staring at the impressive-looking judge, a huge, black-robed man with white hair and an imposing mien. Margo was to her left, and the woman’s small hands were clenched together. Not once had she looked at Don, as if afraid that even glancing at him would weaken her resolve to be there. Julie was glad that Margo had decided to press charges, but it was obvious that the strain was overwhelming. Wordlessly, she reached over and gripped Margo’s hands. They hadn’t traveled from Star Harbor to Barnstable to walk away without ensuring Margo and Quentin’s safety. Or her own. It was up to Cole to cement the deal.

The district attorney, a competent middle-aged woman, moved through her direct examination with precision. When she had finished, the defense attorney rose to question Cole.

“Sheriff Grayson, on the night that Mrs. Rathbone and Quentin Rathbone went to the doctor’s office, did you actually see my client, Don Rathbone, prior to his family’s visit?”

“No, sir.”

“Then how did you know that Mr. Rathbone had committed the alleged attack on his wife and son?”

“They told me he had attacked them.”

“So simply based on their word, you assumed my client was the attacker?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Could someone else have attacked Mrs. Rathbone and Quentin?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” the district attorney cut in. “This is a bail hearing pursuant to Massachusetts General Law Chapter 276, section 58A. We only question as to cause here. We save the defenses for the trial.”

“Sustained,” the judge responded. “You may address affirmative defenses at trial. Right now I am only concerned with matters pertaining to bail, and specifically as to whether Mr. Rathbone could be found to endanger the safety of any other person or the community.”

“Question withdrawn,” the defense attorney countered smoothly. “No further questions.”

“You may step down, Sheriff Grayson,” the judge said. “If that concludes the witnesses, I have reached a decision. Based on the perceived risk to his family and his community, bail is set for Mr. Rathbone at two hundred thousand dollars. Pursuant to rule 209A, a no-contact order is in place until further notice. Please return Mr. Rathbone to county lockup.”

“What does that mean?” whispered Margo.

“It’s a lot of money,” Hank said. “The higher the amount, the more of a danger the judge thinks Don is. But the fact that he didn’t deny bail means that he thinks the protective order should keep Don away from you, should he post bail.”

“Oh, that’s good, then,” Margo said.

“Very good,” assured Julie, even as doubt clouded her mind. The protective order hadn’t helped her the last time.

Don Rathbone glared at Cole from the defendant’s table before turning to Julie and Margo. He was still staring at them as the bailiff escorted him away. Just before he passed through the door that led to the holding cells, Julie caught the look of pure hatred on his face.

Margo shrank back and clutched Julie’s arm in fear.

Quickly, protectively, Cole moved to join them in the courtroom. “That went about as well as we could have hoped. You did well, Hank. You, too, Julie.”

“Thanks.”

“You kept it short and simple. That’s all that’s really required for a bail hearing. The tough work comes later.”

“I’ll be ready,” she said with resolve. The bruise on her arm was just the tip of the iceberg. Margo and Quentin had been through much worse.

Cole squeezed her hand. “I know.”

“What happens now? He can’t get out of jail, can he?” Quentin asked.

“He can if someone posts his bail. But even if he does, we’ve negotiated a protective order for you and your mom. Your dad can’t come near you without risking more punishment. He’ll also be held here instead of in Star Harbor. It’s a more secure facility. That should set your mind at ease, too.”

Julie noted Margo staring at a wall, lost in a fog. “Margo?” she asked gently. Margo turned to look at her. “Let’s get out of here and get you some hot tea. When we’ve settled down, we’ll bring you back to Angie’s house, okay?” Margo nodded tentatively and took the hand Julie offered.

“This has been really hard on her,” Quentin said.

“I know, Quentin. On you, too.” Cole put his hand on the boy’s back in a fatherly gesture, encouraging him toward the door. “Now let’s go home.”

It was close to two in the afternoon when Cole dropped Julie off at her house. As soon as she was inside, she headed upstairs to change into a long-sleeved T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and ankle-high hiking boots. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep her mind on work after the hearing, she’d emailed Cameron to arrange a hike, and happily, Cameron’s schedule was free. Julie was just glad to be heading outside. Although she’d been prepared, the hearing had been taxing, and she was mentally drained.

They’d planned to meet at three P.M. at Little Sippewissett Marsh, one of her favorite hiking spots in nearby Falmouth. Julie popped some granola bars and her water bottle into her hiking pack, threw it into the front seat of her car, and headed out. Access to the marsh was from Woodneck Beach, and she reached the parking lot at the end of Woodneck Road a few minutes before three. At this time of year and in the middle of the day, the lot was deserted.

Just as she got out of her car, Cameron pulled up in a silver Jaguar. Her friend emerged, looking perfectly polished in some stylish flared stretch pants, a snug top, and expensive-looking sunglasses.

“Hi,” Cameron said, waving.

Julie waved back. “So glad you could make it on such short notice.”

“My pleasure. This gives me the perfect chance to let Anna take care of the store for a few hours. And if she needs help, I’m easily accessible.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a hair band. “So where are you taking me? And why couldn’t I wear sneakers?”

“We can walk on the beach if you like, but I was hoping to go through the marsh. Even though it’s low tide, we might get a bit wet and messy.”

Cameron laughed. “Definitely did not think I was going to be getting wet and messy today.”

“Do you just want to walk the beach?”

She shook her head, black hair shimmering down her back. “No way. You promised a local experience, and that’s what you’re going to give me.”

“You won’t be sorry. The marsh is just amazing, and you can see all kinds of wildlife—birds, starfish, crustaceans. Maybe even anemones if we get lucky.”

Cameron tucked her stretch pants into her low boots. “Just lead the way,” she said with a smile.

They headed away from Buzzards Bay and into the marsh, keeping to the sandy dunes between the water and the tufted marsh grass. Weaving in and out with the shoreline, the two women hiked for a while before Julie found a tide pool that was prime for observation. The light this time of day was just right—high enough in the sky that everything was visible, but not so overpowering that there was a glare. A few tiny minnows swam around in the pool, temporarily stranded. When the tide rose, they’d once again be swept away with the rising water. While they watched, a hermit crab scuttled out from a hiding place, across the damp sand, and into the tall grass nearby.

“I think we scared him,” Cameron said wryly.

They kept walking, and from a distance were able to spy a few scientists dressed in tall rubber boots, gathering samples from the center of the marsh. The men and women working didn’t seem to bother a lone, snow-white egret conducting its own stately march at the edge of the reeds.

Julie took in a deep breath. The sulfurous odor of the mud and detritus wafted up, but she didn’t mind. It was earth, real and raw, commingling with the aroma of sea and salt. After her stifling courthouse visit, this was just what she needed. She smiled at Cameron, and Cameron smiled back. They didn’t speak, just walked, looking at the sky and the marsh and the seabirds, which were swooping and diving in the clear, crisp air.

Clearing her head was Julie’s number-one priority. The past week had been intense, and not just because of Don and the hoops she’d had to jump through for those missing prescription pads to clear the way for the sting operation. Without her even realizing it, Cole had ratcheted up the stakes of their relationship. He’d told her he loved her. Her heart had soared to hear those words, and answering in kind seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

In the sexual department, the ante had been upped, too. He’d thrown down the gauntlet, and she’d stepped up to the challenge. Almost every night they were in each other’s arms, showing each other what they meant when words wouldn’t suffice. Their loving was full. Complete.

It was almost enough to overshadow what was lying beneath the surface. But not quite, because she knew what was still lurking there—that big, dangerous thing he’d barely acknowledged but desperately needed to address—his PTSD. They’d been skirting around the issue since she’d brought it up after his first nightmare. Since then, there had been a few more nightmares—but no more discussion. She didn’t want to push it, but it couldn’t stay buried forever. Still, how could they move forward when there was so much left unresolved on both their parts?

They’d started in on safety training, Cole teaching her body to react appropriately during an attack. Far from being frightened, she’d embraced it, wanting to empower herself so she’d never again feel as helpless as she had with Don. And though on the surface, Cole seemed to be calmer now that she was more cognizant of her physical safety, a few times she’d caught him lost in thought, his expression an intense mask of worry.

But she was here to relax, so she focused on her breath, inhaling the cool, damp air, and on the sounds of the distant waves crashing on the shore.

After a while, they doubled back to the beach, the sun lower and the wind beginning to pick up.

“Did you like the marsh?” Julie asked as they were heading south on the sand.

“It was beautiful,” Cameron said. “Really. Thanks for showing it to me.”

“My pleasure.” She motioned to Cameron’s boots. “Sorry you got a bit muddy.”

“Not a problem. It was so worth it.”

“I’m glad. By the way, I have a favor to ask.”

“Name it.”

“I need a dress.”

Cameron pushed her sunglasses up on her head. “Fashion—my favorite topic of conversation,” she said with a smile, eyes gleaming. “Tell me all about where you’re going and what you’re looking for.”

“I was hoping to get something for the Daffodil Festival,” Julie said, referring to the town’s annual spring flower event held at the Meadow. She was really looking forward to the festival and to getting back into the gentle swing of town life. “I haven’t gotten any new clothes for a while. Maybe since med school. My wardrobe could use a bit of freshening up.”

“I think I can help. I just got in a new shipment. There’s one dress that I think would be perfect for you—simple, sweet, with a nipped-in waist and cap sleeves. It hits just below the knee. It’s demure, but a bit sexy. Stop by the boutique when you get a chance and you can check it out.”

“Thanks, I will. Glad I asked.”

“My pleasure. Anyone in particular you’re dressing for?” She gave Julie a little smile.

Julie looked out at the water. “Cole Grayson,” she admitted.

“Ah. I thought you might be into him.”

An understatement. She coughed. “Yes. We’ve been seeing each other for the past few weeks. At first I thought it was just a fling, but it’s turned into something more serious. I’m sorry I haven’t mentioned it, but I wanted to see where it was heading first.”

“Well, I think it’s great. You’ve been working so hard for so long, it’s only right that you should enjoy yourself.”

Julie couldn’t help it. She laughed. “I can’t believe you just told me to ‘enjoy myself.’ ”

“Why not?”

“Let me count the ways. You just opened up your second business in as many years and work nights and weekends to keep everything running. At your mother’s insistence, you attend multiple charity events every season, and you still manage to find time to have dinner with your parents almost every Friday night. Maybe you should practice what you preach, my dear!”

Cameron shrugged. “I’ll admit that I work too hard. I could gladly skip most of the charity events and dinner at my parents’ place—never tell them I said that—but I really do love my boutiques. When I’m passionate about something, I don’t mind putting in the time.”

Julie nodded, knowing exactly how Cameron felt. She loved her practice and couldn’t imagine not giving it her all. But lately she’d found room for other things. Like Cole. “Still, I can’t believe you, of all people, aren’t dating anyone.”

“I go out every once in a while, but honestly, I’m not that into it.” She shrugged. “The men I meet in my family’s circles are usually overly entitled and terribly dull, and the men who don’t run in those circles usually have some sort of issue with who I am.”

“Who you are?”

Cameron glanced down. “I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but the money always gets in the way.” Her gaze was back up now. “Let me try to explain so you won’t think I’m a super snob.”

“I don’t think that,” Julie said. “Please do.”

“All right.” She took a deep breath. “If men have money—at least the men I know—a lot of times they’re content to let their parents fund their lifestyles. I find that singularly unattractive. If they don’t have money, that’s a problem, too, given where I’m coming from. They’re either too interested in my money or intimidated by it. And pretty much all of them assume I’m some pampered princess.”

“But you’re not!” Julie said.

Cameron gave her a half-smile. “I try not to be. I haven’t touched my trust fund. I set up my business myself. You know how hard I work. I really want to see if I can make it on my own.” She paused. “And the more I make my own mistakes—and figure out how to fix them—the more I’m sure I can.”

“I know your store is doing beautifully in Boston, and I can’t help but think you’re going to do well here, too.”

“We’ll see. I hope so, but I’m banking on the summer season. But enough about me. How is your business going?”

Cameron sounded a lot like she used to sound, but thanks to Julie’s new mind-set, she was a lot more bullish on how things were doing. “All right. My practice is seasonal too, but in a different way. Fall and winter are flu and cold seasons. Spring is hay fever season.”

“And what’s summer?”

“Jellyfish season.”

Cameron laughed. “Ouch!”

Julie shook her head. “You have no idea how many jellyfish stings I saw in my weekend clinics last summer. I think there was some kind of surge.”

Just then, a phone rang. “Uh-oh,” Cameron said, reaching into her jacket pocket. “I hope that’s not Anna.” She fished out her phone and answered.

While Cameron spoke, Julie turned her face to the horizon, scanning the water, watching as a distant ferryboat chugged its way to the next port. After observing the ferry’s path for a few moments, she turned her head to gaze at a large yacht moored about a thousand feet offshore. It looked well appointed. Perhaps some celebrity had decided to take a Cape vacation. It wouldn’t be the first time. Only a few years ago, the President had come out to spend a week on Martha’s Vineyard. She was still staring out at the water when Cameron clicked off her phone.

“That was Anna, but she was only calling to tell me that her trial run minding the store is going well and that I shouldn’t worry. I’m glad she called.”

“Me too, if only to get you to relax even more.”

“Relax? What’s that?”

Both women laughed. They walked down the beach for another half-mile and then doubled back. Julie noticed an ease to Cameron’s gait that hadn’t been there when they’d started their hike. Cameron actually had relaxed a little. And so had she.

Back at the parking lot, Julie said goodbye to Cameron and threw on a jacket plucked from the front seat of her car. Despite wearing a long-sleeved shirt, she was starting to get chilly. Then she drove back to town, and after some searching finally found a parking spot far enough down Front Street. It was only the last week in April, but the tourist season was already starting to pick up. Some of the traffic was probably for the upcoming Daffodil Festival, but over the next few weeks, more and more people would visit. After Memorial Day, their little town would explode.

It wasn’t like this when she was growing up. Star Harbor had been sleepy and dying. The tourists had revived the town, and if during the summer they swarmed all over like they owned the place, it was a small price to pay for keeping Star Harbor vibrant and fresh.

Lisa and Cloris had left for the day when Julie got to her office, so she began to gather up what she needed to take home. She printed out some work, and was about to leave when she realized her trash can was full. After shoving her papers into her tote, she tied the trash bag and made sure her computer was fully shut down.

Stepping out the back door into the alley, she turned to lock the dead bolt. Then she froze.

On the door frame were deep gouges, as if someone had tried to pry the door open from the outside. A pit of fear formed in her stomach. Had this been done recently? Quickly, Julie glanced around. The alley was narrow and was lined by the back of the brick buildings from two streets. Thankfully, it was empty. She tossed the trash into the Dumpster. Slinging the tote over her shoulder, she half-ran down the narrow street, trying to get to the main road—and to lots of people—as fast as she could.

When she reached Main Street, her heart was pounding, and it wasn’t from jogging down the alleyway. She needed to tell Cole, right away. He’d flip out again, most likely—something she really didn’t want to contemplate. Still, at this point, she knew she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She’d promised to let him know if anything unusual happened. This was more than unusual—an attempted break-in at her office was serious business.

She whipped out her cell phone and texted him.

Julia Kensington: Situation at my office. Pls come now.

Her phone rang almost immediately.

“What’s going on?”

“I think someone may have tried to break into my office.”

“Are you inside?” Cole demanded. Even through the telephone line she could tell he was clenching his jaw.

“No. I’m on the corner of Main and Front. I’m not alone,” she said, trying to reassure him. “There are some people around.”

“Stay put. I’ll be there in three minutes.”

The phone went dead.

She sighed, her mind in turmoil. Too many troubling events had happened over the past few weeks—her dual assaults by Don Rathbone, not to mention his attack on his own family; the missing prescription pads; maybe being watched at her house; this attempted break-in—if that’s what it really was.

The events had to be related, though honestly, there didn’t seem to be any pattern. Cole would help her work through everything.

Three minutes later on the dot, Cole had his squad car pulled up right at the corner, lights flashing. He got out and slammed the door shut.

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” she said.

“Thanks for calling me this time,” he responded, eyes steely. “Where?”

“The back door.”

“Show me.”

Julie led Cole down the alleyway and unlocked the back door for him so he could get a good look, and look he did. He did a sweep of her office and radioed one of his deputies to do a sweep of the downtown. He examined the marks, the door, and the rest of the alley. He dusted for prints and took photographs. He jotted a bunch of notes down on some kind of official-looking pad. When he was through, he escorted her back to his squad car. She slid into the front seat and waited. He spent a few minutes asking her some questions and making more notes. Then he popped his seat belt on. Pointedly, he waited until she’d done the same before he started driving.

“I’m taking you home. We’ll pick up your car tomorrow.”

“All right,” she said.

He was silent for a while. Just clenched his jaw over and over and stared at the road.

“Everyone in town knows I keep a lot of expensive equipment and medicine in there,” she offered, mostly to break the silence.

“And prescription pads,” he said.

“Yes. Those, too.”

They arrived home just after five thirty. Cole parked in the driveway and grabbed her bags from the car. Even as she stepped up to the front door, she could tell something wasn’t right. The door was unlocked and was slightly ajar. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

A sickening fear sliced through her.

“Cole!” she shouted.

“What?” he responded, right behind her on the steps. Then he noticed the open door. “Get back to the car. Now!” he demanded, whipping out his radio to call for backup.

She sprinted back to the car and shut the door, just in time to see Cole take out his gun and push the door open.