ACCLAIM FOR COLLEEN COBLE
“Evocative and gripping, The Inn at Ocean’s Edge will keep you flipping pages long into the night.”
—Dani Pettrey, Bestselling author of the Alaskan Courage series
“Coble’s atmospheric and suspenseful series launch should appeal to fans of Tracie Peterson and other authors of Christian romantic suspense.”
—Library Journal review of Tidewater Inn
“Romantically tense, but with just the right touch of danger, this cowboy love story is surprisingly clever—and pleasingly sweet.”
—USAToday.com review of Blue Moon Promise
“Colleen Coble will keep you glued to each page as she shows you the beauty of God’s most primitive land and the dangers it hides.”
—www.RomanceJunkies.com
“[An] outstanding, completely engaging tale that will have you on the edge of your seat . . . A must-have for all fans of romantic suspense!”
—TheRomanceReadersConnection.com review of Anathema
“Colleen Coble lays an intricate trail in Without a Trace and draws the reader on like a hound with a scent.”
—Romantic Times, 4½ stars
“Coble’s historical series just keeps getting better with each entry.”
—Library Journal starred review of The Lightkeeper’s Ball
“Don’t ever mistake [Coble’s] for the fluffy romances with a little bit of suspense. She writes solid suspense, and she ties it all together beautifully with a wonderful message.”
—LifeinReviewBlog.com review of Lonestar Angel
“This book has everything I enjoy: mystery, romance, and suspense. The characters are likable, understandable, and I can relate to them.”
—TheFriendlyBookNook.com
“[M]ystery, danger, and intrigue as well as romance, love, and subtle inspiration. The Lightkeeper’s Daughter is a ‘keeper.’ ”
—OnceUponaRomance.com
“Colleen is a master storyteller.”
—Karen Kingsbury, bestselling author of Unlocked and Learning
ALSO BY COLLEEN COBLE
SUNSET COVE NOVELS
The Inn at Ocean’s Edge
Mermaid Moon
(Available December 2015)
HOPE BEACH NOVELS
Tidewater Inn
Rosemary Cottage
Seagrass Pier
UNDER TEXAS STARS NOVELS
Blue Moon Promise
Safe in His Arms
THE MERCY FALLS SERIES
The Lightkeeper’s Daughter
The Lightkeeper’s Bride
The Lightkeeper’s Ball
LONESTAR NOVELS
Lonestar Sanctuary
Lonestar Secrets
Lonestar Homecoming
Lonestar Angel
All is Calm: A Lonestar
Christmas Novella (e-book only)
THE ROCK HARBOR SERIES
Without a Trace
Into the Deep
Cry in the Night
Silent Night: A Rock Harbor
Christmas Novella (e-book only)
THE ALOHA REEF SERIES
Distant Echoes
Black Sands
Dangerous Depths
Midnight Sea
Holy Night: An Aloha Reef
Christmas Novella (e-book only)
Alaska Twilight
Fire Dancer
Abomination
Anathema
Butterfly Palace
NOVELLAS INCLUDED IN:
Smitten
Secretly Smitten
Smitten Book Club
OTHER NOVELLAS
Bluebonnet Bride
© 2015 by Colleen Coble
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.
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Scripture from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. Scripture also quoted from The Voice. © 2008 and 2009 Ecclesia Bible Society. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-4016-9027-4 (eBook)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Coble, Colleen.
The Inn at Ocean’s Edge / Colleen Coble.
pages cm. — (A Sunset Cove Novel; 1)
Summary: “A vacation to Sunset Cove was her way of celebrating and thanking her parents. After all, Claire Dellamare’s childhood was like a fairytale. But with the help of Luke Rocco, Claire discovers that fairytale was really an elaborate lie . . . The minute she steps inside the grand Inn at Ocean’s Edge, Claire Dellamare knows something terrible happened there. She feels it in her bones. Her ensuing panic attack causes a scene, upsetting her parents. Claire attempts to quiet her nerves with a walk on the beach, to no avail. She’s at too great a distance to make out details, but she believes she witnesses a murder on a nearby cliff. When local police find no evidence of foul play, they quickly write off the “nervous” woman’s testimony as less than credible. But Luke Rocco, home on leave from the Coast Guard, has reason to believe Claire. Years ago when his mother went missing, Luke’s father suspected she’d been murdered. He died never having convinced the police to investigate. So when an employee of the grand hotel doesn’t show up for work, Luke steps in to help Claire track down the missing woman. As Claire and Luke put together the pieces of a decades-old mystery, they discover that some family secrets refuse to stay buried. And some passions are worth killing for”— Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-1-4016-9026-7 (softcover)
1. Family secrets—Fiction. 2. Murder—Investigation—Fiction. 3. Man-woman relationships—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3553.O2285I56 2015
813'.54—dc23
2014041005
15 16 17 18 19 20 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1
For Daisy Hutton,
Who inspired this story in so many ways. Thanks, friend!
And my niece Brylee Murphy,
Who was my model for Claire. Love you, honey!
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-
FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
A LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
July 4, 1989
The sea was near. Though she couldn’t see it, she smelled the salt air and heard its roar as it hit the rocks close by. The branches around her held scary shadows. The forest was thick here, and she put her hand on the rough bark of a tree that smelled like Christmas. Mommy had told her to stay far away from the rocks.
But which way are they?
It was too dark to tell. She was afraid to move for fear she’d tumble off a cliff. All she’d wanted to do was go fishing.
She strained to hear her mother’s voice, but only noises like screeches and rustling little things in the grass came to her ears. Tears hovered in her eyes and closed her throat. She swiped the back of her hand across her face. Daddy always said crying wouldn’t fix anything. It would just make her head hurt.
Mommy would be so upset when she saw her torn dress. Daddy had bought it for her, and he would be angry when he saw her mud-splattered tights and patent leather shoes. Somewhere she’d lost the bow in her hair, and stringy locks hung in her eyes. There was something on the ground, and she stopped and picked it up. A lady’s scarf that smelled of flowers. She bunched it in her hand and stepped over an umbrella in her path.
She stopped and cocked her head. Voices? Even though the angry words were just a mumble, she shivered at how mad he sounded. Then she heard a woman’s voice, and she moved toward it. The woman would help her. It might even be Mommy.
Tree needles slapped her in the face and made her want to cry even more. But she was a big girl now. Daddy said only babies cried. She pressed her lips together and planted a muddy shoe atop a small shrub to move closer to the voices.
As she peered through the leaves, she saw two figures struggling in the forest. She couldn’t see their faces, but the smaller figure fell to the ground, and the man leaped on top of her with his hands at her throat.
“Stop hurting her!” Her eyes widened as soon as the cry left her mouth.
The man turned, and she saw a red pelt tied to his belt. The pointy nose hung at his knees, and she felt dizzy when she saw the red fur. She whirled around and ran as fast as she could, but the steps behind her grew closer. Her climbing tree was just ahead. She grabbed for the limb, and her hand went into the hiding place. She wished it was big enough for her to crawl into herself. She left the scarf in the hole, then reached up for the lowest branch. Her fingers missed and she staggered forward.
Then a hand smacked the middle of her back, and she went tumbling into the pine needles.
ONE
Like the masthead of a great ship, the stone walls and mullioned windows of Hotel Tourmaline surveyed its island location of wind-tossed waves and rocks. Off the shore and to the southeast of the Schoodic Peninsula, the hotel dominated the island of Folly Shoals atop its pink-granite cliffs.
It had not been easy getting to this remote location. It had taken Claire five and a half hours plus an hour ferry ride from Summer Harbor to reach this rocky shore. She lifted her foot from the accelerator and let her car slow as she took in the imposing hotel, then pulled into the big circle driveway.
A valet, dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, stepped forward to open Claire’s car door after she parked her convertible in front of the grand entrance decked out in gleaming brass and glass. She’d kept the top up since the mid-May wind was cool with the temperatures hovering around fifty-five.
Smiling her thanks at the young man, Claire emerged from her white Mercedes and looked up at the five-story structure. Though she’d never been here before, an uneasy shiver went down her spine. She couldn’t take her gaze from the parapets with their insets of watermelon tourmaline in the stone around the entry door.
It was like the sea king’s castle in The Little Mermaid, only on land instead of at the sea bottom. Which was a weird thought to hit her out of the blue. She hadn’t seen that old Disney movie since she was a kid.
She recovered her composure and handed the car keys to the valet. “Claire Dellamare, checking in.” Reaching over the door of the Mercedes, she grabbed her oiled leather satchel.
“Of course, Ms. Dellamare. Do you have bags?”
The man’s voice faded into the distance. Pressure built in her chest as she continued to stare at the hotel. A flagstone walk wound through manicured lawns and disappeared into the shadow of thick forest. She suppressed a shiver at the gloom there. Through the big glass windows, she saw her father standing at the front desk. Seeing him grounded her, and she exhaled.
He would probably not be happy at her unexpected arrival, but she intended to make sure the merger landed them a bigger piece of the aviation pie.
Squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to smile again at the young man awaiting instructions. “There are three bags in the trunk.” Without waiting for a response, she hurried past the doorman holding open the entry.
The pink-granite tile floor was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Black veins ran through various shades of pink granite and gave the floor both depth and light. She homed in on her father standing with his back to her and headed his direction, her heels clacking against the stone tiles as she approached the front desk.
The wood surfaces gleamed with polish, and a gilt ceiling arched over the entry area. She’d been in fine hotels all her life, but this one had something special. Just beyond the registration desk, several overstuffed sofas gathered near the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the forest behind the hotel. She stopped and peered out the window at the trees arching into the sky.
At the sight of the thick pines, Claire thought she might vomit right there on the granite floor. Her breath hitched in her chest, and she tried to ignore the rising panic.
She managed to whisper, “Dad,” before her throat totally closed.
It’s just the woods. Breathe, breathe.
Her father turned at the sound of her voice. A scowl gathered between his eyes. “Claire, what are you doing here?” His voice bounced off the granite floors.
Her mother had always said he had the voice to charm hummingbirds to his hand, and at the sound of his deep voice, a bit of calmness descended. She forced a smile and brushed her lips across his smooth-shaven cheek, inhaling the scent of his cologne, Giorgio Armani. Her fingers sank into the arm of his expensive suit, and she leaned her face against his chest.
He held her a minute, then released her. “Are you ill, Claire?” He looked at the woman standing to one side of the desk. “Please get my key at once.”
“Yes, Mr. Dellamare. I have them ready. Yours and your daughter’s.” The clerk, an attractive blonde in her thirties, handed over two key card sleeves. “You’re in a penthouse suite, next to the one by your parents.” She smiled at Claire. “I’m Jenny Bennett, Ms. Dellamare. If there’s anything you need, please contact me personally. I’m about to get off work, but my cell number is on my card.” She pressed a business card into Claire’s hand.
Claire managed a brief nod. “You’ve been very helpful, Jenny.” The woman had quickly arranged a suite this morning when Claire had made the decision to come here.
“You’re staying?” Her father’s gaze went to the satchel in her hand.
“I came to help you with the merger.” The door behind them swooshed open, bringing the scent of pine to her nose. Her chest tightened again.
“I’m perfectly competent to handle it.” Her father took Claire’s arm and turned her toward the brass doors of the elevator.
As he led her away from the entryway, her lungs compressed and there was no air. She had to get oxygen. She jerked away from him and yanked her blouse away from her neck. Her purse dropped to the floor, scattering pens, art pencils
, lipstick, and a compact across the floor. Her face and neck felt on fire as she bent to pick up her things and stuff them back in her purse.
When she stood, the panic swept over her again. “Can’t breathe!”
“Claire, lower your voice.” Her father glanced around at the interested guests staring their way.
Her hands and arms tingled, and she couldn’t feel her feet. Her father reached toward her, and she batted his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” Her scream bounced off the ceiling.
A gray-haired gentleman in a navy suit approached. “Might I offer assistance, miss?”
She backed away, then whirled and rushed toward the entrance. Her feet seemed to be moving in slow motion, and her vision narrowed to a pinpoint centered on the door. Escape. She had to get out of here. Dimly aware of voices calling after her, the door grew closer and closer until she pushed it open and drew in a lungful of salt-laden air.
She leaned her face against the cool stone and prayed for the panic to go away. What was going on? Her left arm hurt.
Her father exited the hotel and hurried to her side. When he started to touch her, Claire flinched. “Don’t.”
“What is wrong with you? It’s not like you to make a scene, to be out of control. This is something your mother would do, not you.”
She flinched at the condemnation in his voice. She was not like her mother. She inhaled and tried to force her hands not to shake. “My chest is tight and my left arm feels on fire. I’m having trouble breathing. My face is hot. Maybe it’s a heart attack.”
“You’re twenty-nine years old, Claire. It’s unlikely it’s a heart attack. I think you’re having a panic attack. Maybe because this merger is so important. Go for a walk along the beach, and come back inside when you’ve gotten control of yourself. People will think you’re having a nervous breakdown or something.”
Though he didn’t say it, she heard the implied comparison to her mother again. Control, I need control. “You’re right. I’ll be fine. It was a long drive up from Boston. I just need a walk.” The tightness in her chest eased a bit. “Is Ric here yet?”
“Not yet. He’s due to arrive tomorrow.” His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. “He does like you. Maybe it’s a good thing you’ve shown up.”