CHAPTER 20

“This is the perfect day to skip town.”

Given everything that had happened over the past few weeks, Julie was happy to be heading out of Star Harbor, if only for the day. She was in the driver’s seat of her station wagon, the windows rolled halfway down, the wind in her hair, the aromas of freshly cut grass and blooming trees wafting in. Cole sat silently beside her in the passenger seat, his posture ramrod straight, his bearing softened only by his tousled black hair. The sun was shining and the day was warm, clear and bright. The scene was so idyllic that Julie could almost forget she was on a long-overdue trip to visit Margo and Quentin Rathbone in Providence.

Cole only grunted in response to her comment and stared out the window.

Since Don had been released, Margo and Quentin hadn’t set foot on the Cape except for the bail hearing. They’d kept to Margo’s aunt’s house and the surrounding area while they waited for the legal issues to be resolved. True to her word, Julie had referred Margo and Quentin to her friend Dr. Tucker in Providence, and had heard from her colleague that the two were physically doing much better—especially Quentin, whose ear had completely healed.

Thank goodness for Quentin. He’d been a beacon of light in this whole affair, refusing to kowtow to Don’s demands and bullying, and supporting his mother unreservedly. Quentin was a strong kid, and she hoped he’d come through without too many emotional issues.

Julie stole a quick glance at Cole. He had a resigned but calm expression on his handsome face. Only if she looked closely could she see the subtle strain—the slight clenching of his jawbone, the tiny line of concern between his eyebrows. Of course Cole had seen domestic abuse cases in Boston; she’d seen them herself during her rotation in emergency medicine. But somehow for her, incidents of abuse always seemed worse, less anonymous, more devastating, in a small town.

Don’s abuse hit home especially hard because she had grown up with Margo. They were close in age, and they’d shared a lot of the same goals in high school. They’d even gone to the same college. But something had happened between then and now. Why it had happened was complicated—domestic abuse had many causes, and Julie could only hope that Margo would eventually get her life back together after being dependent on Don for so long.

She glanced over at Cole again, his face a mask of impassivity. Was this what his “doing his duty” expression looked like? Maybe it was something else. Neither of them had been sleeping well. Over the last couple of nights, he’d woken from sleep more than once. She wanted him to go back to the psychologist, but any time she brought it up, he’d change the subject.

Considering everything going on, she was glad he’d offered to accompany her. She was going to have a hard enough time today, and his presence would help to keep her grounded.

They made good time on the road and arrived in Providence in just over an hour, pulling up to the old Victorian home in the Edgewood district and parking on the street. Julie and Cole walked up to the porch, and Cole rapped briskly on the door. While they waited, Julie took the opportunity to look around. The house was painted a pale pink with white trim. In the front yard, dozens of rosebushes of every shape and size were clustered together in a big mass. Some early roses had begun to bloom, and their odor was heady.

After a few moments, they were greeted by Margo’s aunt, a petite, spry seventy-year-old who ushered them inside. The smell inside the house was as flowery as it was outside, as if the place had been doused in thick perfume. Looking around, Julie saw the source of the aroma. On one side of the large front hall were pots and pots of indoor plants of every size and shape. It was clear that the woman loved plants and especially favored the flowering variety.

They stood in the hall and exchanged pleasantries. “Good to see you again, Sheriff Grayson,” Margot’s aunt said, shaking his hand. “And you must be Dr. Kensington. Well, I must say it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from Quentin.”

She shook Julie’s hand with a surprisingly firm grip. Julie smiled at the woman’s infectious warmth. “It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Mrs. Doppel. And please call me Julie.”

The older woman smiled at her, the apples of her cheeks growing rosier as she beamed. “Lovely, my dear. Only if you promise to call me Angie. Come into the parlor. I’ve just made some tea for everyone. Margo and Quentin are already inside.” Julie followed her small form into a lavishly decorated room. And then simply stared at her surroundings.

Chintz patterning covered almost every inch of the place, from the plump love seats to the throw pillows to the wallpaper. The curtains were done in another floral pattern that did not quite correspond with that of the chintz on the sofas. A large painting of a rosebush hung on the wall, flanked by smaller watercolors of flowers of every kind.

Angie turned to Julie after noticing her taking in the décor. “Do you like it?” she asked. “I do so love flowers and can’t resist having them everywhere. This house is my love letter to them.”

“It’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Julie said honestly, watching as Cole tried to keep a straight face. Margo and Quentin were seated on one of the love seats and rose to greet them. They both looked noticeably better. Quentin had put on some weight and had a rosy glow to his countenance; he was no longer the awkward, skinny boy that Julie remembered. Even better, the light in his eye was no longer sparked with anger. It was the natural, curious light of an adolescent boy, and that, more than anything, made Julie happy.

Margo, too, looked much improved. Her haunted, frightened look was gone, the dark circles under her eyes had faded, and her skin looked much less sallow. She still seemed reserved, but Julie knew that aspect of her personality would take a while to change. Best of all, Julie noted that although she didn’t approach Cole, she didn’t shrink away from him, either.

Quentin rushed over, the small boy looking up with unchecked admiration at Cole. “Hi, Sheriff Grayson. I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad to be here, Quentin. You and your mom are doing okay?” he asked, his deep voice filling the room.

“Much better, thanks. I like it here. Aunt Angie enrolled me in school in Providence and I like my teacher a lot. The kids are nice, too.”

“Good,” Cole said. “So you like living with your great-aunt?”

“She’s awesome,” he said, smiling at the elderly woman. “She makes me cookies all the time and helps with my school projects. She’s really great at science.”

“I was a botany professor at Brown until I retired a few years ago,” Angie said.

“Anyway, at night and on weekends, she lets me help her in her greenhouse out back. I’m learning all about carnivorous plants now. They’re really cool. I fed my Venus flytrap some flies and it ate them!”

Julie smiled as the boy kept chattering away to Cole, but she’d noticed that Margo had held back slightly. She approached her and held out her hand. “Hi, Margo. How are you doing?” Julie was rewarded when Margo reached for her hand in return. She felt the woman’s light grip in her own and squeezed gently.

“Much better, thank you,” Margo said softly. “Quentin is really thriving and my aunt has been just wonderful.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but how are you?” she reiterated.

“I’m—” Margo paused, “I’m good, I suppose. It still feels like I’m living someone else’s life. I never thought that things could have gotten that bad. Or that I’d have any semblance of a normal life again. I’m seeing a psychologist. She’s helping me to see that Don’s abuse wasn’t because of anything I did or said. He was just a bad man.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I was with him for so long. Sometimes I feel like things will never be the way they were before we met.”

“They won’t,” Julie said. “They’ll be better. Much better. It might be a long time before you’re able to feel like yourself again, but as long as you’re safe and continuing to improve, that’s all you can ask.”

Margo looked fondly at her aunt. “Angie’s just been a godsend. She’s given me back my son. And myself. A self I didn’t even know was gone.”

“You’re going to be fine. I just know it. You’re a strong woman, Margo.”

“I’ve been thinking of taking some summer classes,” she said shyly. “Going back to college to get my degree. Maybe studying botany, like Angie. I always loved plants.”

Julie grinned. “Do that. You’ll be great!”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” she said, squeezing her friend’s hand.

Margo smiled, and for the first time, Julie saw happiness—and hope—in her eyes. Margo gripped her hand more tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered. Julie felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and blinked to keep them at bay.

“You’re welcome,” she responded. Then she looked over at Cole and Quentin. Quentin was still chatting up a storm.

Before Julie could interject, Angie cut in. “Teatime, everyone! We have to drink it before it gets cold,” she said, gesturing for them all to be seated.

Quentin bounded over to the love seat and waited for his mother to join him. “What kind is it, Aunt Angie?”

“We have two kinds today. Rose hip and lemon verbena,” she said as she picked up a dainty flowered teacup on a tiny saucer.

“Which would you like, Julie?” she asked.

“I’ll try the rose hip, please.”

“My favorite,” she sighed, as she poured the tea into the small cup and handed it to Julie.

“Sheriff?”

Cole looked as though he wanted to gag, but he managed to stay polite. “Ah, I’ll have the, um, lemon.”

“Good choice,” she said, pouring a healthy cup for him. “Honey?”

“Yes, please.” The look on his face spoke volumes to Julie. Anything to mask the taste, he seemed to be saying.

“And I know your favorites, you two.” She poured Margo and Quentin their own cups, and then served herself.

“Ah,” she said, inhaling the fragrant aroma of her own cup of rose-hip tea. “Delightful.”

They spent a pleasant half hour drinking the tea and eating shortbread cookies, mostly talking to Quentin about the greenhouse, a topic he seemed thrilled to discuss. Margo looked on happily, content to let her son gab away.

Julie noticed that Cole ate quite a few cookies, despite his lack of a sweet tooth. She suspected he was trying to do his best to get the taste of the tea out of his mouth. Smiling, she glanced over at Margo, who was watching Quentin. Margo slid her gaze to Julie, and her expression changed from one of love to one of worry. Julie inwardly frowned. For a moment, she looked like the old, beaten-down Margo. Just as quickly, Margo moved her gaze away and her expression changed, leaving Julie to wonder whether she’d seen it at all.

When the time came for Julie and Cole to say their goodbyes, Julie embraced Quentin and Angie, then moved closer to Margo to give her a few last words of encouragement.

Margo grabbed her arm and held on tightly. “Julie, I’m worried about Don. Worried he’ll get to you and hurt you somehow.”

“Don’t worry, Margo. Cole is around almost all the time now. Don won’t be able to get to me.”

“You don’t know Don. He’s vindictive. Just be careful, Julie. You’ve been so good to me that I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of the help you gave to us.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise,” Julie said, trying to radiate her reassurance before climbing back into her car. Still, Margo’s words resonated in her head.

Cole must have heard what she’d said, because as soon as they were back on the road, he asked, “What did you promise Margo you’d be careful about?”

“Steering clear of Don.”

“She thinks he’ll come after you,” he stated, his voice hard. Julie kept her eyes on the road. If she looked at Cole, she knew she wouldn’t like what she saw in his eyes.

“I think she’s still scared of him. I mean, who wouldn’t be? The man terrorized her for years,” Julie reasoned.

“He also could have been the one responsible for the break-in at your house and the attempted break-in at your office.”

“Even you said yourself that it likely wasn’t him.”

She sensed Cole frowning. “I said the break-in wasn’t Don’s style, but we can’t rule him out. We can’t rule anyone out until we have more information. Whoever is doing this has been really careful. We have no DNA, no prints—nothing to go on.”

“I understand, but I can’t see how this changes anything.”

“All I’m suggesting is that you use even more caution than you have been.”

“Honestly, Cole, I don’t think that’s possible. I’m already staying with you, and we spend all our free time together. You’ve been teaching me self-defense, and you have a patrol go by my office every hour. What would you have me do? Live my life in a little box? Stop working? Close up my practice and spend all day under your watch?” Julie asked, a bit exasperated at the turn the conversation had taken.

“No, Julie. All I’m saying is that I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks. Don’t stay too late at the office. Call or text frequently to let me know where you are. Be sensible. Be safe.”

“Right. Exactly what I’ve been doing already.”

Cole was silent.

Julie sighed softly. “What happens next with Don, anyway?”

“Best case, he’ll have a trial in a month or two. Judges try to get to criminal cases fast—the right to a speedy trial, and all that—but they usually have a backlog of cases. I’m guessing it could take up to half a year.”

“So he could be out running free that whole time?” The thought made her ill. She was already on edge, and having the extra worry of Don accosting her would just make things worse. Cole picked up on her unease, and now he was acting more on edge than usual. She tried to calm herself—and him—down. “You know I’m taking your suggestion to be extra careful, right?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him give a nod. “And you know I have the utmost confidence that you or one of your deputies will be there for me if anything at all should happen.” Another nod. “And the safety training has helped, so please relax. Everything is going to be fine.”

No nod. No words. He just turned his head to look out the window. How could Cole think she was still in danger? He’d insisted on so many precautions to keep her safe, she couldn’t remember the last time she was alone. Still, Cole was right that due to recent events at her home and office, it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more vigilant until Don’s trial.

What she really wanted was for Cole to keep opening up to her. To tell her he was working on his issues. On his PTSD. But with every suspicious happening, she felt him regressing. She hoped he’d say something … anything.

But they drove back to Star Harbor in silence.