The Summer of Us (Mission Cove 1)

And that, going forward, was how I would act.22SunnyI wiped my hand across my eyes as I scrubbed the already clean wall. My shoulders burned with the strain, the pain radiating down my arms.

I ignored it, the throb in my bones nothing compared to the pain in my chest. My heart ached with loss.

Linc.

He was all I could think of. What he insisted he had to do. It was going to kill him. All of his work—everything he’d strived so hard for would be wiped out with one horrible move to try to protect me. He refused to listen to me. To Abby. He was hell-bent on destroying himself, refusing to believe there was any other way.

I would clean this bakery a hundred times over—close it, in fact—if it meant he didn’t stoop to the level of his father. I had been serious when I told him he was on a slippery slope. He would justify this action. Then do it again. Over and over until it became a part of him—until the good I knew he had within him was gone, and he became the one thing he fought against.

The wall in front of me became blurry, and I had to blink my eyes to clear them. The sound of a throat clearing behind me was startling.

“Um, boss? Someone here to see you.”

“Tell them to come back,” I ordered. Lots of people wanted to see me today, asking why we were closed, what the notice on the door was about, demanding to be allowed to help.

“I think you’ll see me.”

At the sound of Martha Tremont’s voice, I froze, turning my head to meet her gaze.

“A moment of your time, Ms. Hilbert.”

I slid from the stool, wiping my hands, wondering what was about to happen. She looked like herself, but different. The usual frown was missing from her face, the look of distaste she always wore when she looked at me, gone. Her expression wasn’t friendly, but it was no longer hostile.

“I received an incorrect report about your bakery. The notice has been removed.” She handed me the green and white pass form. “You can stop cleaning now.”

I shook my head, but she held up her hand. “It was a mistake. A novice inspector going overboard. I have rectified the situation.”

“Linc,” I mumbled.

She cleared her throat. “Ah, yes. Mr. Webber. I saw him earlier today—we had an eye-opening chat. Cleared the air, so to speak. I do hope he changes his mind and returns to Mission Cove.” She crossed her arms, staring at me meaningfully. “He is always welcome here.”

I didn’t understand. What had happened?

“He is so much like his mother.” She paused, and I was certain she almost smiled. “Nothing like his father. Nothing.” Then she turned. “I have to go to the dry-cleaning store now. More errors to follow up on. The work of the deputy mayor is never done, you know. My citizens need to be cared for.” She lifted her hand and disappeared.

I stare after her, blinking.

What had transpired between her and Linc? Something big—but not what I feared, judging from her demeanor. It wasn’t friendly, but the hostility was gone—or at least lessened.

Her words rang through my head. “Nothing like his father. Nothing.”

I had to find out what happened. I needed to talk to Linc.

Except, Abby had told me he was leaving. I had heard him walk out this morning, my heart breaking as I turned my back on him before I lost my nerve and ran to him, begging once more for him to choose us over doing what he felt he had to do. Choosing the light he so often said I was to him, over the dark.

Abby came up beside me, and I handed her the form. “We can stop cleaning now.”

“Did he…?” Her voice trailed off.

“I don’t think so.”

“What happened?”

I yanked off my apron. “I don’t know, but I have to find out. I need to get to him before he leaves, Abby, or I may never see him again.”

She pressed her keys into my hand. “Go.”I drove up the hill, my heart in my mouth. Linc’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but the front door stood open. I ran inside, heading to the den. I stopped in the doorway, horrified at the sight before me. The room was wrecked—the desk overturned, the chair smashed. Pictures were torn off the walls, flung around. The fireplace was wet, rivulets of water running onto the expensive floors and carpet, a pile of sodden ash in the grate.

What the hell had happened here?

I dialed Abby, panicked. “He’s not here,” I gasped. “The den is wrecked, his car is gone.” A sob escaped. “He’s gone.”

“Wait,” she instructed.

I looked around the room, noticing the metal box Linc had dug my letters from open and lying on its side. I bent and looked inside. It was empty. Another smaller box was upside down on the rug. I didn’t touch it.