Read Online Rock Harbor Series - 01 - Without a Trace by Colleen Coble - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Colleen Coble
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York, and I sure don’t want them traipsing around my mine. I don’t trust them, and I do trust Palmer.”
“If you force my hand, I’ll tell Steve everything.”
Fay laughed, but the tinkle was gone. “What will you tell him, Uncle Lawrence? That I married him for his money and now that it’s gone I’m splitting? He already knows why I married him. But in spite of your high opinion of me, I’m not leaving him. Not now. Things have changed. I’ve got a baby to think about.” She slung her purse over one shoulder and moved away.
“You can’t do this!” Lawrence shouted after her.
Fay just waved a hand over her head and kept going. Lawrence shook himself, his face a mask of bewilderment. He saw Bree staring at him and scowled then stalked off. “She’s going to get me killed,” he muttered.
Fay’s covert exchanges were too complicated for Bree to think about. She would find Naomi and head for home. Fay could work out her own problems.
The next morning Bree woke in time to watch the sun break free of the horizon. In Bree’s mind, Sunday morning should be time spent leisurely over a plate of eggs and bacon, but as she surveyed the contents of her refrigerator, she knew her kitchen couldn’t produce such a repast: a near-empty tub of margarine, half a bottle of water, a plate of week-old salmon patties covered in a suspicious moldy tint that could be seen even through the pink plastic wrap. The lone apple in the produce drawer looked more like a prune.
“Nothing fit to eat here, Samson. You want to go out for breakfast?” He barked and ran to the door. “I guess that’s a yes.” She slippedinto her jacket and hooked the leash to his collar. By the time she finished breakfast, Fay should be along for coffee.
Stepping outside into the cool morning air, she and Samson set off at an energetic clip toward Suomi Café, four blocks down Houghton Street. Two blocks in, she tugged on Samson’s leash and slowed their pace to enjoy the walk. No one was stirring this early, but Bree thought everyone should see the radiant blue of the sky. The fog bell out in the harbor was tolling, and the blue that was Lake Superior glinted briefly between the houses lining the water. Another altogether glorious day in paradise.
Some would laugh at her for describing snow country as paradise, but then they likely had never smelled the cold freshness of pollution-free air or watched a white blanket of snow cloak everything in clean, pristine beauty. Bree couldn’t imagine a better place on earth. A colorful autumn day like this offered a glimpse of perfection.
Rock Harbor, population twenty-five hundred if you counted Anu’s chickens, couldn’t be more picturesque. From the first moment Bree set foot on the volcanic soil of Michigan’s western Upper Peninsula, she knew she’d come home. The Victorian storefronts looked the same as they did in century-old photographs. That fact had always been a comfort to Bree, but especially in the previous year. She’d had too many changes in her life.
Nestled at the base of Quincy Hill, Rock Harbor’s three-block downtown area could have come straight from a child’s storybook. The town’s major businesses lined Houghton Street, which was intersected by Jack Pine Lane and Pepin Street. To stroll the village streets was to step back in time. Even the corner butcher showed a marked resemblance to Barney Fife. With the recent influx of tourists, many store owners were busy sprucing up and painting the storefronts with cheerful schemes that reminded Bree of San Francisco row houses. From her lighthouse tower, she could look down on the town and marvel at its perfection.
Suomi Café overlooked Lake Superior from its perch on the steep slope of Kitchigami Street. Named for the Finnish word for Finland, the humble café offered no exterior hint of the culinary delights inside. Just thinking of the possible menu choices made Bree’s mouth water.
She quickened her step and had almost
“If you force my hand, I’ll tell Steve everything.”
Fay laughed, but the tinkle was gone. “What will you tell him, Uncle Lawrence? That I married him for his money and now that it’s gone I’m splitting? He already knows why I married him. But in spite of your high opinion of me, I’m not leaving him. Not now. Things have changed. I’ve got a baby to think about.” She slung her purse over one shoulder and moved away.
“You can’t do this!” Lawrence shouted after her.
Fay just waved a hand over her head and kept going. Lawrence shook himself, his face a mask of bewilderment. He saw Bree staring at him and scowled then stalked off. “She’s going to get me killed,” he muttered.
Fay’s covert exchanges were too complicated for Bree to think about. She would find Naomi and head for home. Fay could work out her own problems.
The next morning Bree woke in time to watch the sun break free of the horizon. In Bree’s mind, Sunday morning should be time spent leisurely over a plate of eggs and bacon, but as she surveyed the contents of her refrigerator, she knew her kitchen couldn’t produce such a repast: a near-empty tub of margarine, half a bottle of water, a plate of week-old salmon patties covered in a suspicious moldy tint that could be seen even through the pink plastic wrap. The lone apple in the produce drawer looked more like a prune.
“Nothing fit to eat here, Samson. You want to go out for breakfast?” He barked and ran to the door. “I guess that’s a yes.” She slippedinto her jacket and hooked the leash to his collar. By the time she finished breakfast, Fay should be along for coffee.
Stepping outside into the cool morning air, she and Samson set off at an energetic clip toward Suomi Café, four blocks down Houghton Street. Two blocks in, she tugged on Samson’s leash and slowed their pace to enjoy the walk. No one was stirring this early, but Bree thought everyone should see the radiant blue of the sky. The fog bell out in the harbor was tolling, and the blue that was Lake Superior glinted briefly between the houses lining the water. Another altogether glorious day in paradise.
Some would laugh at her for describing snow country as paradise, but then they likely had never smelled the cold freshness of pollution-free air or watched a white blanket of snow cloak everything in clean, pristine beauty. Bree couldn’t imagine a better place on earth. A colorful autumn day like this offered a glimpse of perfection.
Rock Harbor, population twenty-five hundred if you counted Anu’s chickens, couldn’t be more picturesque. From the first moment Bree set foot on the volcanic soil of Michigan’s western Upper Peninsula, she knew she’d come home. The Victorian storefronts looked the same as they did in century-old photographs. That fact had always been a comfort to Bree, but especially in the previous year. She’d had too many changes in her life.
Nestled at the base of Quincy Hill, Rock Harbor’s three-block downtown area could have come straight from a child’s storybook. The town’s major businesses lined Houghton Street, which was intersected by Jack Pine Lane and Pepin Street. To stroll the village streets was to step back in time. Even the corner butcher showed a marked resemblance to Barney Fife. With the recent influx of tourists, many store owners were busy sprucing up and painting the storefronts with cheerful schemes that reminded Bree of San Francisco row houses. From her lighthouse tower, she could look down on the town and marvel at its perfection.
Suomi Café overlooked Lake Superior from its perch on the steep slope of Kitchigami Street. Named for the Finnish word for Finland, the humble café offered no exterior hint of the culinary delights inside. Just thinking of the possible menu choices made Bree’s mouth water.
She quickened her step and had almost
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