Falling For You (Sapphire Bay Book 1), Page 2

  “A friend overheard you speaking to Mabel.” Reaching behind him, he took a folder off the hallway table. “This is a copy of my rental agreement.”

  Her gaze skimmed over the document, pausing when she saw his signature. “You’ve been here three months?”

  “Almost four.”

  A deep doggy woof gave him a ten-second warning that Sherlock was running toward them.

  He turned and used a hand signal. “Stop.”

  Sherlock’s bottom hit the floor. With his ears pricked up, he looked at Gabe, waiting to see what happened next.

  “You’ve got a dog?” For the first time since he’d seen her, Natalie’s blue eyes softened. “He’s beautiful. What’s his name?”

  Gabe studied the smile on her face. If she thought she could sweet-talk him out of his rental agreement, she was wrong. “Sherlock.”

  Her smile turned into a full-throttle grin. “Can I pat him?”

  “Sure. Just go slow. He was a police dog and doesn’t like strangers.”

  Natalie held out her hand.

  Sherlock, being the contrary beast that he was, proved him wrong by not only licking her hand but moving closer.

  “He likes me.”

  Gabe cleared his throat. “That doesn’t mean you can tell me to leave.”

  “That’s not why I’m here. I didn’t know anyone had rented the cottage, but that’s not your problem. I need somewhere to stay and the rooms at the back of the cottage are empty.”

  “You want to move into the cottage?”

  “Not the whole building,” Natalie said quickly. “Just the rooms at the back. I’ll have my own bathroom and there’s a separate kitchen. I’ll be completely self-sufficient.”

  “That wasn’t part of my agreement.”

  Natalie stopped patting Sherlock. “You agreed to lease my grandparents’ cottage. The rooms at the back aren’t part of the original house.”

  Gabe knew they weren’t, but that didn’t mean he wanted a neighbor. “That’s not the point. I came here for some peace and quiet.”

  “You won’t know I’m here.”

  He doubted anyone could live within a few feet of her and not know she was there. “How long are you staying?”

  She glanced down at Sherlock. “Three months at the most.”

  Gabe studied the black circles under her eyes. When he’d signed the rental agreement, the realtor told him one of the owners was living overseas. What she hadn’t told him was that Natalie was coming back.

  “Where have you come from?”

  “Venice.”

  “Italy?”

  Natalie nodded. “I’m sorry this isn’t what you expected, but it’s the best I can do. I’m happy to call the hotels in town until we sort something out, but I don’t think they’ll have any rooms available. If I can’t stay here, I might have to sleep in my truck.”

  Gabe looked down at Sherlock. The traitor had wiggled his way closer to Natalie’s legs. “You can’t sleep in your truck.”

  “Does that mean that you don’t mind me living next door?”

  He had a feeling he might regret what he was about to say, but he didn’t want Natalie to get hurt. “It’s your cottage. As long as you respect my privacy, we’ll get along fine.”

  Natalie’s relieved smile made his breath catch. That hadn’t happened in so long he wondered what was wrong with him.

  “Thank you. You don’t know how much I appreciate being able to stay here.”

  She might not be so thankful after he looked into her background. He didn’t need any more surprises.

  Chapter 2

  Later that night, Gabe handed Caleb a cup of coffee. “Did you get the sound system installed?”

  “We did. As long as it works tomorrow, I’ll be happy.”

  Caleb was some kind of IT specialist. He’d lived in Sapphire Bay for twelve months before a job had sent him to Washington D.C. Two years later he moved back and started a consultancy business. He was a bit vague about what exactly he did, but that was nothing new. Secrets were a big part of Gabe’s life at the moment. Caleb would tell him what he was doing when he was ready.

  “Knowing you, the sound system will work perfectly. If you hadn’t told Mabel you used to work in a theater company, you wouldn’t have been roped into helping.”

  “I didn’t think she’d remember,” Caleb grumbled. “Are you coming to the concert?”

  Gabe shook his head. “I need to get some writing done.”

  “How are you going to find inspiration if you lock yourself away? You only leave the cottage when I drag you into town.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?”

  Caleb smiled. “Nothing, but tickets are selling fast. I have it on good authority that no one should miss a Ryan Evans concert.”

  “Did those words of wisdom come from Mabel?”

  “How did you guess?”

  Gabe snorted. “It wasn’t hard.”

  “It’s for a good cause. The local search and rescue team needs all the help they can get.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Caleb grinned. “Good. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock. And don’t worry about tickets—I’ve already bought two.”

  “You’re a bad influence on me. At the rate I’m going, it will be Christmas before my book is finished.”

  “What did you do about the dead body?”

  “It washed ashore at Slaughter Beach and was stolen from the morgue. The killer buried the body in Zac Connelly’s orchard.”

  “Nice.”

  A year ago, Gabe’s first book in the Zac Connelly series had hit the bookshelves. The thriller became an overnight success, propelling him into the limelight and making more money than he’d ever earned with the police.

  Nine months later, book two was published. Sales of both novels skyrocketed, making him one of the most sought-after authors in America. But along with the fame came a lot of unwanted attention. Attention that had brought him to Sapphire Bay.

  Caleb frowned. “If you don’t want to go to the concert, it’s no problem.”

  “The concert’s fine. You’re right. I need to get out more.”

  “Since we’re talking about your social life, what happened to the woman I saw in the general store?”

  “Her name is Natalie Armstrong. She’s my new neighbor.”

  “Lucky you.”

  Gabe didn’t think he was lucky. He’d come to Sapphire Bay to get away from everyone, but it wasn’t working out that way. “I’ll be too busy writing to enjoy anyone’s company.”

  Caleb groaned. “I almost feel sorry for her. Has she met Sherlock?”

  The dog in question was lying at Gabe’s feet, softly snoring.

  “He let her pat him.”

  “There you go. Sherlock’s a good judge of character. If she passed his personality test, you’re safe.”

  Gabe’s eyebrows rose. “He did the same thing with you and I’m still worried.”

  “Very funny. Why is Natalie here? Sapphire Bay isn’t one of Trip Advisor’s top ten towns to visit.”

  “I don’t know why she came here.”

  “How long is she staying?”

  “Three months, maybe less.”

  “Do you know anything else about her?”

  He smiled at the interest on Caleb’s face. “She was living in Italy. You can always stop by and meet her.”

  “It’s quicker to ask you for information. Why would anyone move here after living in Europe?”

  “Probably for the same reason we’re here.”

  “I doubt it,” Caleb muttered.

  Gabe frowned. “You’re not on the run from the mob, are you?”

  “You’ve been writing too many thrillers. Not everyone has a dark side.”

  “Only people who have something to hide don’t answer direct questions.”

  Caleb picked up his coffee mug and rinsed it under the faucet. “My life isn’t as interesting as yours. I bury myself in computer networks and progra
m code. Until I met you, visiting the general store was about as exciting as my life got.” His mouth dropped open. “Mabel has rubbed off on me. I’m turning into the town busybody.”

  Gabe laughed. “You’ve got a long way to go before that happens. And for what it’s worth, your social life is ten times more exciting than mine.”

  “Except for tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock. The concert starts at seven.”

  Gabe followed Caleb to his truck. “Do you want to come here for dinner?”

  “It will have to be another night. I need to do a final sound check before the band arrives. Mabel is paranoid about something going wrong.”

  “I don’t blame her. How many people will be at the concert?”

  “About three thousand.”

  Gabe glanced at the light coming from Natalie’s side of the cottage. No wonder all the accommodation was booked. Sapphire Bay had a population of about eight hundred people. If Natalie hadn’t moved into the cottage, she wouldn’t have been the only person sleeping in a vehicle.

  Caleb slid into his truck and rolled down the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. And even if it kills you, try to be nice to your neighbor.”

  As Caleb drove away, Gabe’s phone beeped. He read the text.

  Cold dread crept along his spine. His publisher had received another letter from the person stalking Gabe, and the message was getting worse.

  The next morning, Natalie stepped off the veranda and smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly.

  She took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders and enjoying the clean, fresh scent of pine and spruce trees. In all her travels, Sapphire Bay was the only place where she felt truly at home. She could hike in the mountains, swim in the clear blue water, or walk around the edge of Flathead Lake, skipping stones across the gently lapping water.

  This morning, she was heading toward the lake. With her backpack sitting snugly against her shoulders, she strode away from her grandparents’ cottage and into the woods.

  Walking through the trees was like stepping back in time. For as long as she could remember, she’d trodden the same path, ducking under stray branches and skipping over fallen logs. Even the stubbornest worries melted away when she was here.

  And those worries had dragged her out of bed at five o’clock this morning. She’d spent an hour going through everything in her studio. Her grandma used to tell her that everything would be here for her whenever she returned. Even though she was five years too late, she’d never been more grateful for what they’d done. Her easels, a pile of old canvases, her brushes, even her tubes of paint were still sitting where she’d left them.

  She stopped in the middle of the path, frowning at a commotion in the trees. Before she could decide if it was a bear, Sherlock bolted from between two trees.

  He ran straight toward her, only slowing when it looked as though they were going to collide.

  “Hey, boy. Where’s your dad?”

  Sherlock sat in front of her, tilting his head to the side.

  “Does he know you’re here?” It didn’t seem likely that Gabe would let Sherlock roam the forest on his own. There never used to be many bear attacks, but attracting more tourists to a town sometimes brought the bear population closer.

  She patted Sherlock’s thick black coat and peered through the trees. Apart from the German Shepherd’s heavy breathing, she couldn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary.

  Sherlock was wearing a collar but, with no harness or leash, he might not follow her. “Come on, boy. Let’s go back to your house.”

  Sherlock woofed, then looked over his shoulder.

  Gabe walked toward her with a slight limp. She wondered if he’d hurt his leg trying to catch his dog.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “I would have kept Sherlock closer if I’d known you were here. We usually have this trail to ourselves at this time of the morning.”

  “I’m fine. I thought Sherlock might have been a bear or a wild animal.”

  Gabe patted his dog’s head. “He’s big enough to be a bear. Are you heading down to the lake?”

  Natalie nodded. “It’s the best part of the day. Everything is so peaceful on the water.”

  “If you’re planning on swimming, be careful. A couple of kids nearly drowned last week.”

  “I’m not going into the water. I thought I’d take a few photos of the lake and go for a long walk. It wasn’t comfortable sitting on the plane for so long.”

  “Why did you come all the way from Italy to Sapphire Bay?”

  “I’m a full-time painter. I need to finish two canvases for an exhibition.”

  “You couldn’t do that in Venice?”

  Natalie pushed aside the memory of what her studio had looked like after the burglary. “I didn’t feel safe.”

  Gabe snapped Sherlock’s leash onto his collar. “And staying here makes you feel safe?”

  “It used to.” Her softly spoken words were met with silence.

  “I’d better head back to the cottage.” Gabe took a whistle out of his pocket. “Take this. If you need help and you can’t get a cell phone signal, blow it. As long as you’re no more than 400 yards away, Sherlock will hear it and let me know you need us.”

  Natalie held the small wooden whistle in her hand. “Did you make it?”

  “My dad did. You can give it back to me when you arrive home.”

  “It’s nice of you to be worried, but I’ll be okay. I spent most of my childhood in the forest. I won’t get lost.” She held out the whistle, but Gabe didn’t take it.

  “There are a lot of people in town for tonight’s concert. You can’t be too careful when you’re on your own.”

  Before she could disagree, he was walking along the trail with Sherlock trotting beside him.

  She watched them for a few minutes before turning toward the lake. She had no idea why Gabe was living in Sapphire Bay. For someone who’d been a detective, life on the edge of Flathead Lake wouldn’t be all that interesting.

  She slipped the whistle into her pocket and kept moving. As soon as she finished her walk, she’d clean her studio and start planning her first canvas. And maybe, if Gabe forgot about being grumpy, he might tell her why he was here, too.

  Gabe closed his laptop. After three hours of non-stop writing he’d finally reached the point where Zac had found the dead body in his orchard. Now all Gabe had to do was introduce Zac to the medical examiner and watch the sparks fly.

  Sherlock whined and scratched the back door.

  Gabe let him outside, then walked across to the kitchen. When Sherlock still hadn’t returned fifteen minutes later, he went looking for him.

  It would be just like Sherlock to be rolling around in something he’d found under the trees or digging another enormous hole in the backyard.

  He whistled, hoping the short, sharp burst distracted his dog from whatever he was doing.

  Sherlock woofed and ran around the corner of the cottage.

  “Where have you been?” Gabe sniffed. Sherlock didn’t smell bad, so at least that was one bonus for the day.

  Natalie stepped around the edge of the building. With a big floppy sun hat perched on her head and a tote bag slung over her shoulder, she looked like she was heading out for the day.

  She smiled and an odd feeling of protectiveness snuck up on him.

  “Sherlock wants to stay with me, but I’m going into town. Is there anything you need?”

  Gabe shook his head. “We’re fine, but thanks for asking.”

  Natalie’s eyebrows rose. “You seem a lot happier than you were this morning.”

  Telling her that a person with serious mental health issues was stalking him wouldn’t make her feel safe. Telling her the same person was recreating the scenes in his books would be even worse. So he settled on something resembling the truth and hoped he never had to tell her what was really happening.

  “I’m a writer. When you saw me, I was trying to figur
e out how my hero would find a dead body in his orchard.”

  “I take it you don’t write romance novels?”

  It was Gabe’s turn to smile. “Thrillers.”

  “Has your hero found the dead body?”

  “His dog found it.”

  Natalie looked at Sherlock and grinned. “Now I know why you have a dog called Sherlock. Has he helped you find other dead bodies?”

  “Not yet. This was his first.” Gabe could have kicked himself. He’d told her too much. “I’d appreciate you not telling anyone I’m a writer.”

  “You don’t want everyone to know you kill people for a living?”

  Gabe forced a smile. “Something like that. I have to finish my latest book and there are fewer distractions here.”

  The smile on Natalie’s face disappeared. “That must be my cue to leave.”

  “I don’t mean you’re a distraction.” Gabe stumbled over his apology. “I meant in general terms. At least here, no one knows me.” That didn’t sound any better than telling Natalie she wasn’t a distraction.

  She must have realized he was digging an even deeper hole for himself. “That’s okay, I know what you mean.” She adjusted the strap on her bag and patted Sherlock’s head. “I’ll be gone for about an hour.”

  As Gabe moved out of her way, his cell phone rang.

  Natalie looked over her shoulder and grinned. “It sounds as though civilization has caught up with you.”

  He looked at the number of the person calling him and frowned. “You’re right. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  She nodded and headed toward her truck.

  Gabe answered the call. “Hi, Caleb.”

  “You’re not going to believe what I’ve been reading.”

  “You’re supposed to be working on your project.”

  “I needed a break.”

  “And your break involves something I’m not going to believe?” Gabe watched Natalie reverse down the driveway. He needed to stop thinking about her and write the next scene of his book.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  Gabe frowned. “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “I was looking on the Internet and found an article about Natalie. She’s considered one of the most up-and-coming artists of the twenty-first century. She’s exhibited at galleries around the world and even had an exhibition at the Louvre.”