In The Arms Of The Enemy. Carol Ericson
stepped out from the back of the shop. “Information.”
“I’m glad I found you here.” Cole held up the cap and umbrella. “You left these at Sutter’s last night.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “And—and you took them?”
“I knew I’d be dropping by Timberline Treasures today to talk to Ms. Gunderson, so I told Bud I’d bring them to you.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t make a move toward the counter, so he weaved his way through the bins and shelves on the store’s floor and placed them on top of the glass counter. Then he thrust out his hand toward Linda. “Ms. Gunderson? I’m Cole Pierson. I’m writing a book about Timberline.”
Linda’s pale skin flushed as she shook his hand. “Oh dear, not a book on the Timberline Trio case, I hope.”
“Not at all. This is a travel book that includes some of the town’s lore. The Timberline Trio will probably make a brief appearance, but the crime is not the focus.”
“Good, because we had some problems when a TV show came here to film. Nothing but trouble.” She pursed her lips.
“I met your cousin Caroline last night at Sutter’s and she said you might be willing to talk to me about the old Timberline.”
“I think I can do that.” She fluffed her permed gray hair. “Is this going to be on camera?”
He held up his cell. “Just recorded on my phone, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine. I’d be happy to talk with you. Are you also interviewing some of the real old-timers and the Quileute out on the reservation?”
Cole smiled over gritted teeth and nodded. This pretense could turn into a full-time job. “On my list.”
The door tinkled behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder at an elderly couple struggling to push a stroller through the door. Cole maneuvered through the shop’s displays to grab the door for them and hold it open.
The woman said, “Thank you so much. Our daughter has us bring so many items for the baby it’s like pushing a truck instead of a stroller.”
Cole hunched forward and chucked the baby beneath his chubby chin. “Is this your grandson?”
“Our first.” Grandpa beamed.
The baby grabbed Cole’s finger and gurgled. “You’re a strong little guy, aren’t you? Little bruiser.”
He straightened up and met Caroline’s wide eyes. Her eyebrows were raised and her mouth was slightly open. Heat rushed to his cheeks and he cleared his throat. “Cute kid.”
“You’re back.” Linda bustled toward the couple and cooed over the baby.
As she chattered with the grandparents, Cole returned to the counter. “I was hoping to chat with Linda in the store today, but if she’s too busy maybe I can buy her lunch.”
“We’re not going to be that busy today—not with the rain gusting through.” Caroline tapped her fingers on the glass top. “Do you have kids?”
“Me? No. That?” He jerked his thumb toward the baby Linda now had in her arms. “Just making the grandparents feel good.”
Actually, that had been one of many disappointments from his failed marriage. The fact that he and Wendy didn’t have children. Although, given how the marriage ended—badly—that was probably a good thing.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” Her blue eyes narrowed in her usual suspicious manner.
“Have kids?”
“Oh, no.”
“Did your husband come out here with you for that fresh start?”
“I’m not...married.” Her brows collided over her nose.
“Sorry.” He held up his hands. “You started it...the personal questions.”
“Then I apologize. You just seemed like a natural with that baby.”
The couple at the door called out, “Goodbye. Have a nice day.”
Cole waved.
“Friends of yours?” he asked as Linda returned to the register.
“Their daughter and son-in-law moved to Timberline when she took a job with Evergreen. They’re retired and have been coming for visits since little Aaron was born.” Linda rubbed her hands together. “Now, where were we? Do you have questions about Timberline?”
“Is it okay if we do this now? I don’t want to interrupt business for you.”
She flicked her fingers in the air. “We won’t be busy, and now I have Caroline to watch the store for me.”
“Can I buy you coffee across the street at Uncommon Grounds?”
“I told him he could talk to you in the back, Linda.”
Linda knitted her brows and her gaze darted between the two of them. “Are you worried about being in the store by yourself, Caroline? You’ve done it before. I think you can handle it.”
Did Caroline have a problem with him talking to Linda alone? Cole pasted a smile on his face. “It’s up to you. Thought I’d buy you a coffee for your trouble.”
“It does sound nice and I haven’t had mine yet this morning.” She patted Caroline’s arm. “We’ll just be across the street. If something comes up, give me a holler.”
“Of course, of course.” Caroline’s shoulders dropped. “I know how much you enjoy talking about Timberline’s history.”
Some weird undercurrent passed between the two women, like a force field excluding him, and a muscle ticked in his jaw as his senses picked up on it.
Linda gave Caroline’s arm another pat and then smacked the counter with the flat of her hand, which broke the tension. “It’s settled. Coffee it is.”
“Enjoy yourselves.” Caroline brushed her light brown hair from her face. “I’ll hold down the fort.”
Cole stopped at the door. “Do you want us to bring you back anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
The door shut behind them and Caroline waited for the bells to fade before covering her face with her hands.
She’d be a lot better once Cole Pierson, or whatever his name was, left Timberline. That pat on the arm from Linda reassured her that her so-called cousin wouldn’t be spilling the beans about her to Cole.
Maybe this interview was just what she needed to get Cole off her back. If he couldn’t shake Linda’s story that she was a cousin from back East who was escaping a bad relationship, maybe he’d move on.
And she could get back to the business of finding out who she was and what she was doing with a lowlife like Johnny Diamond.
She had discovered that the body in the trunk of the car outside the motel room was Hazel McTavish, and most likely Diamond had murdered Hazel when he stole her car at the airport in Seattle. So how far-fetched was it to assume that Caroline was also one of Diamond’s victims?
Except she’d had a packed bag with her in the motel room. If he’d carjacked Hazel at the airport, maybe she’d been at the airport, too.
She rubbed the back of her head, where a hard knot had formed in place of the bump. She needed to regain her memory. How did people do that without going to a hospital and getting involved with law enforcement and psychiatrists?
The door to the shop swung open, and Caroline jumped. Her grip on the edge of the counter tightened as she watched a single man stroll through the door, shaking out his umbrella.
She