Кэти Дэйли - The Secret Of Logan Pond

I turned around to find Hope with a man I was pretty sure I’d never met.

“This is Michael,” Hope introduced. “Michael, Callie.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I stuck out my hand.

“I’m heading to the bar. Ladies, can I bring you something?” Michael asked.

“Wine,” Hope answered. “White.”

He looked at me.

“Same. And thank you.”

After Michael walked away, Hope turned her attention back toward me. “So, where is Cass? I’m sure I saw him earlier.”

“He had to go outside to take a call. I can’t believe how crowded it is. And how loud.”

“The first barn dance of the season is always well attended,” Hope informed me. “As the season progresses, the attendance thins out a bit.”

“So, Michael…” I said, glancing at the bar. “Is he your…?” I let my sentence trail off.

“Friend,” Hope provided. “And I guess for tonight date. He’s an attorney in town who likes to read, so he comes into the library often. I heard Cass was able to close both the Bobby Brighton murder case and the Austin Brady missing persons case.”

I nodded. “Colin has been given community service for his part in Austin’s death. He might have gotten more, but he cooperated fully, and he was only thirteen when the drugging happened. Additionally, he was able to convince the judge that he really didn’t know what would happen. Hugh is currently in the county jail, awaiting sentencing. He was booted off the council and is no longer the acting mayor, but he eventually cooperated fully and confessed to the whole thing, which should earn him some leniency. And the man who actually killed Bobby, Xavier Vargas, is awaiting trial in Denver. At this point, I’d say that things are wrapped up nicely.”

“I would say so. I read your piece in the Foxtail News about Austin and the series of events that led to his death,” Hope said. “You did such a good job. You really have a way with words. I cried the entire time I was reading it, and I know others who had the same experience. It really was a tragedy.”

“It was,” I agreed. “When I agreed to take on the project, I really didn’t know how hard it would be to research and write about the death of a child.” I glanced up as Michael returned and handed me my wine. I smiled and accepted it. “I think I’m going to go and find Cass.” I looked at Hope. “Let’s get together next week. Maybe lunch or drinks after work.”

“I’ll call you,” she promised.

I said my goodbyes and headed toward the door leading outside. It had gotten really hot with so many people in the enclosed space. The fresh air felt good. Cass was just finishing his call when I spotted him in the distance. I walked in that direction. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Everything is fine. That was the DA in Denver, letting me know that Xavier’s trial has been moved up. I’ll need to go to Denver and be available during the trial, so he was just giving me a heads up.”

“I see. I’m surprised the guy didn’t just plead guilty and avoid the trial.”

“I think he’s hoping for a plea deal, and who knows, he may get one. At this point, it’s out of my hands. Do you want to go back inside?”

“Actually, I could use some fresh air. It’s pretty hot inside.” I tilted my head up toward the sky. “Besides, it’s simply gorgeous out here.”

“Seems like a good night for stargazing,” Cass said.

I smiled and looked in his direction. “It is the perfect night for stargazing.”

“I have a blanket in my trunk. Maybe we can head up to the point, and I can see how many of the constellations I can remember.”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to remind Cass about the curse and how he might die if we fell in love, but at this moment, I couldn’t seem to work up the courage to do that. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. I pulled back just a bit and looked him in the eyes as I cradled his cheek with my hand. “I’d love to hear about the constellations.”

Next From Kathi Daley Books

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Preview Summerhouse Reunion

Sometimes life is about letting go. Letting go of the way things were supposed to have been. Letting go of unmet dreams and incomplete plans. Letting go of the anger that consumes you as you struggle to make sense of an unfinished life. I’d spent the last year denying the inevitable, negotiating for a different ending, screaming to the heavens that it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, and finally struggling to accept an ending that should never have been.

Letting go, I realized somewhere along the way, was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.

“It’s a beautiful day.” A woman with white hair walked up beside me as the spray from the rough sea misted my face.

“Yes.” I turned and smiled. The woman looked to be a few years older than my sixty-eight-year-old mother; unlike my mother, however, who simply could not or would not understand the grief that haunted my every waking moment, this woman looked at me with compassion and understanding. “It’s a little rougher than I like my ferry rides, but beautiful all the same. My name is Kelly. Kelly Green. I’m afraid I can’t immediately place you, but I feel like we’ve met.”

“We have met, although it has been a long time since we’ve seen each other. About twenty years, to be more specific.”

My brows shot upward. “Dottie Pemberton?”

The woman smiled and offered her hand.

“Wow.” I reached out and hugged the woman. “I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you. It’s just that…”

“It’s just that the fifty-two-year-old woman you remember looked a bit differently from the seventy-two-year-old woman standing before you today.”

“Yes.” I stepped back. “I mean, no. I mean, sure, your hair is different, and I guess we all have a few more laugh lines, but still …” I realized I was rambling, so I stopped and hugged the woman again. “How are you?”

“I’m as well as can be expected. I was sorry to hear about Kayla.”

My smile faded just a bit. The death of my twin sister and best friend still hurt almost more than I could bear. I’d tried to do as others seemed to want and hide my pain, but no matter how hard I tried, the simplest thing—a song, a scent, a memory—would remind me just how much I’d lost, and the grief would return in a wave that would envelop me and then cast me into a sea of darkness once again.

“I guess it must have been extrahard with her in a coma for so long not knowing how things would work out in the end,” Dottie added after a moment.

She had no idea. In reality, Kayla had died a year ago, when a distracted driver had slammed into the car she was driving, but while everyone assured me that her mind was gone, her body had lived on, and as long as she clung to life, I’d clung to hope. Then, two months ago, her distraught husband decided to pull the plug and let her go peacefully, and I knew that my life would never be the same.

“How have you been holding up?” Dottie asked. She looked concerned, which I suppose was understandable, because I hadn’t said a word since the moment she’d brought up Kayla’s name. “I do understand how difficult something like this can be. I suppose it is even possible to lose ourselves in our grief.”

I cringed as I remembered the random acts of craziness that had been brought on by my overwhelming grief. “It has been hard,” I finally said. “But I’m hanging in there. Some days are harder than others. Some days it doesn’t seem real. But I guess you might understand that. I heard your Harold passed away as well.”

“Yes. Three years ago. He was the love of my life, and I miss him every day.”

I squeezed her hand. “I’m so very sorry. Sometimes I think Kayla’s death would have been easier to deal with if she’d lived a good, long life before passing. Forty-two is much too young. She had so many things yet to do. She had a husband and two daughters who needed her, and she had me, who probably needed her most of all. But then I stop and ask myself if her passing would have been easier if she’d been seventy or eighty or a hundred, and I can’t help but be faced with the truth—when you lose half of your heart, it is going to hurt no matter how long you’ve had together on this earth.”