Southern Storm

  “Blair, you’re not being rational.”

  “I’m so rational, Sarah, that I’m going over there right now and clean my stuff out of the library. And you better send one of your ladies over right away, because I’m leaving that pup open! Nice talking to you!” With that, she slammed the phone down, then picked it up and slammed it again.

  Furiously, she got dressed, then stormed next door to clean her things out of the building that had been like her home for the last four years.

  CHAPTER 50

  Sue Ellen Jargis showed up to “take over” the library just as Blair got the last of her personal things out. Adrenaline had enabled her to do it in record time. Lugging a box of floppy disks and programs that she’d bought herself, Blair bolted past her. “Knock yourself out, Sue Ellen. The key to the building is on the desk. Stay open as long as you want.”

  Sue Ellen made some kind of protest, but Blair didn’t wait to hear it. She marched across the gravel parking lot and threw the boxes just inside her front door. She didn’t go in herself, just slammed it and headed to her car.

  Spinning out of the gravel, she headed for Hanover House.

  She found Jonathan and Morgan sitting on the front porch with Caleb.

  Flinging her door shut, she cut across the yard. “Jonathan, run for mayor. We need someone reasonable running this town.”

  Jonathan got up. “Blair, what’s wrong?”

  “I lost my job, that’s what!”

  “Blair!” Morgan handed Caleb to Jonathan. “They fired you?”

  “No! They made me mad enough to quit!”

  She came up the four porch steps and stood seething in front of them. “The Ladies’ Auxiliary is taking over. Sue Ellen Jargis is there as we speak, showing everyone how easy it is to run the library since there’s nothing much you have to do. It practically runs itself, according to Sarah Williford. They’re going to run it in shifts. Can you believe that?”

  Morgan looked exhausted. “Blair, you shouldn’t have quit. You should have waited until your head is clearer.”

  Blair ignored her and turned to Jonathan. “So what’s it gonna be, Jonathan? Are you going to run for mayor and rescue this town before the City Council flushes it right down the toilet?”

  “Thinking about it,” Jonathan said. “But without a newspaper in town, it’s hard to get my issues out. I don’t have much money for signs and bumper stickers and whatnot. I need a forum.”

  “You’ve got me,” Blair said, slapping her chest. “I’ll personally go door to door for you, giving every citizen of Cape Refuge an earful.”

  “Why don’t you run?” Morgan asked wearily. “Wouldn’t you love to be the boss of your tormenters? You were asked, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I was asked. But I’m not the type. I’m not photogenic, and everybody knows that politics is eighty percent cosmetic and twenty percent brains. Jonathan has a much better shot.”

  Jonathan looked at her like he didn’t quite know how to take that.

  “I’m one of the least popular residents on the island,” she went on. “No, Jonathan has a much better shot.”

  “And when are you going to go door to door, Blair?” Morgan asked. “You’d have to give up your new career as private detective.”

  “I’d work it in,” Blair said. “Don’t you worry about that. So, Jonathan, what do you say?”

  Jonathan leaned against the post and studied her for a minute. “I’ll make a deal with you, now that you’re unemployed.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “You start the newspaper back up, and I’ll run.”

  Blair took a step back. “The newspaper? No way. I’d have to buy it from the previous owner. I wouldn’t give her one red cent.”

  “Then start one up on your own. You could do it, Blair.”

  “With what money?” she asked. “Talk about irrational. I have some savings but not enough to buy all the computers, photography equipment, and printing presses I would need.”

  “You could get a loan.”

  Blair almost laughed. Then her bitter amusement faded, and she stared at her brother-in-law. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am,” he said. “We desperately need a newspaper, and frankly, if I spent a whole day listing possible candidates to run it, I couldn’t think of anyone who’d be better at it than you.”

  For the first time in a long time, Blair found herself speechless.

  Morgan filled in the silence. “He’s right, Blair. Maybe losing the librarian job is a blessing in disguise. Maybe the Lord’s opening another door for you.”

  “I think it’s more likely that Jonathan is opening a door for me. Or kicking it down, would be more accurate.”

  Jonathan’s eyes twinkled with the possibilities. “You do it, Blair, and I’ll run for mayor,” he said. “I’m not asking for special treatment, either. You could cover all the candidates. But as it stands right now, the one with the most signs up wins. Give us a place to air our convictions.”

  As much as she hated to admit it, Blair was catching his vision. “I could also cover Cade’s disappearance and make people understand that he’s in trouble. Put to rest all those insane ideas about him being on his honeymoon.”

  “You could!” Morgan’s eyes rounded. “That would do more good than sitting in your car all night.”

  Blair started pacing, working out the details in her mind. “And I could cover Karen’s baby. Maybe help the FBI get some leads. Being part of the media could give me access to things I can’t have access to now.”

  Morgan started to smile. “Do it, Blair. I think you should do it.”

  Blair looked out across the street, to the beach beyond it. “Who am I kidding? I don’t even own a computer now. I have zilch to start with.”

  “Don’t give up before you try,” Jonathan said. “Wouldn’t you love to show the City Council and the Ladies’ Auxiliary that they haven’t bested you?”

  That did it. “Yes, I would.” She turned back to him, grinning. “I’ll look into it.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow,” she said.

  Morgan grabbed her arm. “How about today?”

  “Can’t. I have to be somewhere.”

  Morgan groaned. “Washington Park. Blair—”

  Blair didn’t want to hear it. “I have to go,” she said. “Thanks for the idea, Jonathan.”

  “I’m ready when you are,” he said.

  Her mind reeled with possibilities as she pulled out of the driveway.

  CHAPTER 51

  Again, the night had been long. Blair sat across the park from Ann Clark’s house, watching every light in every window. The woman never seemed to leave the house. Not once had she seen her car back out of the driveway. She stayed inside that place as if it were a fortress that hid her darkest secrets.

  Blair was more certain than ever that it did.

  She hated to go home for rest, but as the sun grew higher in the morning sky, she realized that it wouldn’t pay to sit here until she fell asleep and have someone notice her. Besides, she doubted the woman would do anything suspicious in broad daylight.

  She drove home, fatigue aching through her body. As she pulled into the gravel parking area she shared with the library, she noticed Sue Ellen’s car there already, along with a couple of others.

  For a moment she sat in her car, staring at that library door. How dare they? She hoped the pages fell out of all the books, that the tapes broke, that the microfiche jammed. She hoped no one on the island brought back another book and that they never collected another dime for their budget.

  Anger revived her as she cut across the gravel and went into her house. The phone was ringing, so she picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Yeah. Blair, hi. This is Jason Wheater down at the Island Bank.”

  She tossed her bag on the table and sank into a chair. “Uh-huh.”

  “Jonathan called me and said you were interested in buying the Cap
e Refuge Journal.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “He did, did he?”

  “Yes. I told him that we recently foreclosed on all the equipment and the building. We own it now. We’re about ready to auction it off, but we’d rather sell it.”

  Blair rubbed her eyes. She couldn’t think. “Look, Jason, it’s not a real good time, with Cade missing and all. I haven’t slept.”

  “I understand,” Jason said. “But if we had a newspaper on this island, maybe it would help to locate Cade. Heaven knows the Savannah Morning News isn’t talking enough about it, except to cast aspersions on Cade.”

  The man had done his homework. He knew which buttons to push. “Truth is, Jason, I haven’t really given it all that much thought.”

  “Well, why don’t you meet me over there this morning and I can take you through it? You could see what you’d be getting, and maybe we can make a deal. We’d even be willing to do some financing, Blair. We know you’re good for it. And you’d probably have a built-in subscription base, so we know there’d be some income.”

  Blair sighed. She really didn’t want to deal with this now, but Jason was right. If she started the paper back up, maybe somebody would read something and come up with a lead that could help them get to Cade. And she had to make a living somehow. Even if Sarah Williford begged her, she had too much pride to take the library back.

  Research was her first love. But she could do that from a newspaper office and actually turn her knowledge into something productive for everyone. What could it hurt to look?

  “All right, Jason,” she said, “I’ll meet you over there at four this afternoon.”

  “Good deal,” he said. “I’ll see you there.”

  Blair got a few hours’ sleep, then went over to Hanover House before her meeting with Jason Wheater.

  There had been no productive leads on the missing baby, and the parlor still looked like a cockpit, with recorders and telephones and tracing equipment piled on one of her mother’s antique tables.

  Blair went to the kitchen, and saw Morgan on the back porch playing with Caleb.

  Morgan heard her and looked in through the window. She motioned for Blair to come out. Blair pushed through the door and dropped into a rocker.

  Morgan regarded her for a moment. “You look awful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, really. You look worse than you did after Mama and Pop died. I’m worried about you.”

  “Then stop it.”

  “Blair, you’re not going to do Cade any good if you don’t take care of yourself.”

  Close to tears again, Blair got up and went to the screen door. Peering out, she said, “Who cares if I take care of myself? I can sleep when he’s found.” She turned back. “Any word about the baby?”

  “None,” Morgan said. “Nobody’s getting much sleep these days.”

  She put Caleb into his Flintstone mobile, and he used his feet to pull himself along.

  Blair went to sit back down. “I know Ann Clark knows where Cade is,” she said, knowing she was changing the subject, but unable to help herself. “I know that as sure as I’ve ever known anything in my life.”

  “Has she done anything that you’ve seen? Had visitors? Gone anywhere?”

  Blair shrugged. “Nothing yet.”

  Morgan got up as Caleb hit the wall, and turned him back around. “Want some tea? I could use some.”

  “No, I didn’t come over here for tea. I actually came over to ask you if you’d go to the newspaper with me. Jonathan got Jason Wheater to call me. He wants to make a deal.”

  Morgan grinned. “So you’re going?”

  “I thought I would. It’s gone into foreclosure,” she said. “The building, the equipment, everything. The bank owns it now, and they’re trying to get rid of it. They’ve offered to finance it and everything.”

  Morgan’s face changed. “Blair, that’s amazing. You’re the only one I know who can quit her job in a fit of rage and not suffer for it.”

  “It’s not a done deal yet. I’m meeting him at four. Wanna come?”

  Morgan started to laugh. “Sure, I’ll come with you.”

  She heard the inside door closing and Sadie tromping through the house. “Morgan, I’m home!”

  “Out here, Sadie,” Morgan called.

  Blair looked up as Sadie came to the door. “Hi, Blair.”

  Blair lifted her hand in a silent wave.

  Morgan pulled Sadie out. “Sadie, you’ll never guess what Blair’s doing this afternoon.”

  “What?”

  “She’s meeting a banker about buying the Cape Refuge Journal.”

  Sadie sucked in a sharp breath and stared down at Blair. “You’re kidding!”

  Blair gave her a weak grin. “Nope.”

  “Oh, my gosh. Can I go with you? I can show you where everything is. I worked there long enough to get real familiar with the place. I can even show you how to use the equipment.”

  Blair grinned. “That’d be real nice, Sadie. I could use your experience.”

  Morgan started into the house. “Let me go change Caleb’s diaper, and I’ll get ready to go. I’ll just bring him with us.”

  Sadie kept staring at Blair, as if it was too good to be true. “Oh, Blair, if you buy the newspaper can I work for you, please? I was a real good employee for Nancy. I can do a good job. I promise.”

  Blair got to her feet. She’d never been so tired in her life. “I thought Morgan didn’t want you to work, Sadie. I thought she wanted you to concentrate on your school.”

  “But I can do both. I really can. I don’t think she’ll mind if it’s you. And school will be out for the summer in just a few weeks.”

  “Well, I will need somebody,” Blair said, “and it sure couldn’t hurt to have somebody who knows the ropes working there, at least part time.”

  Sadie punched the air and laughed. “Maybe if I work there, Morgan won’t make me go back to school next year. I could work for you and home-school at night—”

  “Whoa,” Blair said. “I haven’t even bought the place, and you’re dreaming about quitting school?”

  “Not quitting. Home-schooling. The ones my age are seniors now. The kids in my class all hate me. This town isn’t very forgiving, you know.”

  “Forgiving?” Blair asked. “What in the world do they have to forgive you for?”

  Sadie’s delight faded. “My past,” she said. “Everybody knows where I came from, what my mother’s done, how I was raised. I’ll never escape it, no matter where I go.”

  Blair looked out across the yard. Morgan had done a good job of keeping the flower beds intact, keeping the weeds out, keeping everything growing and beautiful the way her mother had done it. She’d thought she’d done miracles with Sadie too.

  But she understood the girl’s insecurities. She’d had much the same experience in school because of her scars.

  “You know, my parents came here years ago, and they had a lot of baggage too,” she said, “a lot of history, a lot of guilt in their lives. Some of that guilt had to do with me.”

  Sadie nodded. She’d heard the whole story months before.

  “But the town came to love them. They did good things, helped a lot of people.” Her voice broke off. “They’ll love you too, Sadie. They will. One of these days you’ll be so at home here that you’ll never be able to leave.”

  “Like you?” Sadie asked.

  Blair shrugged. “Truth is, I had every intention of being out of here by now, but things keep making me stay.” Her voice trailed off, and she stared at those flowers and thought of Cade.

  “And if you buy the paper,” Sadie said, “then you’ll be obligated to stay, won’t you?”

  Blair thought about that for a moment. It might be a good reason not to buy the paper. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be that committed to staying in town indefinitely, especially if Cade wasn’t here.

  She got up, feeling a little dizzy. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. You ready?”

/>   “Oh, yeah,” Sadie said. “I’m ready, all right.”

  CHAPTER 52

  Blair told Jason Wheater that she’d have to give it some more thought. While everything looked intact and seemed to be in working order, she just wasn’t sure that buying the paper was what she wanted to do. As Sadie had pointed out, it would give her roots here like a ball and chain, tying her ankle to this island, keeping her from ever escaping.

  And escape might be just what she needed.

  On the other hand, if she bought the paper, she could have it up and running within a few days, and she could use it to turn the town’s attention to Cade. Jason indicated that he’d have no problem getting the bank to finance her loan. If she wanted it, he could have the paperwork ready within a day.

  Until she decided, she would proceed as she had been, staking out Ann Clark’s house since no one else would.

  That night, as darkness settled in, she drove back to Washington Square in Savannah and watched the lights in the Clark house flicker on and off from room to room.

  She had sat here night after night for days and had still not seen a thing. No one had come or gone from this place. Ann Clark hadn’t left at all.

  Discouraged, she had almost decided to go on home and admit that, perhaps, she was wrong about the woman.

  But then something changed.

  In one of those windows flickering with light—like several carefully placed candles—she saw Ann Clark’s silhouette in the curtain.

  She wasn’t alone.

  The silhouette of a man stood facing her for the briefest of moments, then he walked out of the window’s frame.

  Blair’s heart seemed to stop. She hadn’t seen anyone arrive at Ann’s home. There were no cars in the driveway. Could that be Cade? She got out of her car and rushed across Washington Park, her eyes locked on that window.

  There he was again, the same silhouette in that window. The shape of his face did not look like Cade’s, and he was shorter, only six or seven inches taller than Ann’s five-feet-two. Cade was taller—at least six-feet-two. This man’s nose was bigger, his chin more prominent, his hair longer.