Not Just an Echo (Piper Anderson Legacy Mystery Book 3) Read online

  Not Just An Echo

  Danielle Stewart

  Contents

  Not Just An Echo

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

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  Copyright © 2017 by Danielle Stewart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Not Just An Echo

  Would you ever go solo on a Caribbean cruise? Cosette certainly wouldn’t have considered it prior to her failed engagement. Suddenly single and looking to reset her life, she ventures out on what’s supposed to be an all-inclusive vacation free of any worry. But the promise of safety is quickly snatched away when a fire sends the ship into uncharted territory.

  Aiden had a plan. A dangerous, important responsibility that hinged on his cruise itinerary staying on track. When that falls apart he’s faced with a split-second choice that could jeopardize something much bigger than his own life.

  Luckily they’re joined by Edenville’s most infamous nosy neighbor. Fellow passengers Michael, Jules, Betty, and Clay cannot let the strangers who joined them for dinner face danger alone. But will the risk be too much when the truth comes out?

  Chapter 1

  Cosette stuffed her white veil into the trashcan and used her foot to stuff it to the bottom. She’d first seen it on the cover of a bride’s magazine over a year ago. It had literally stolen her breath. The perfect combination of vintage and elegant. Now it served as the ideal metaphor for the state of her life. Garbage.

  The lace was stained and covered in the remnants of the pint of chocolate ice cream she had for dinner last night. Her wedding dress, on the other hand, had been too expensive to destroy in some symbolic way. Instead she had the pleasure of carrying it and a lifetime supply of shame back into the bridal store where just six months earlier she’d been happily purchasing it.

  The women working there all looked at her with empathy, fishing not so subtly for the reason the wedding had been called off. The usual cliché guesses wouldn’t cover her situation. And by the time she left, they were as in the dark as they’d been when she’d arrived. They’d have to settle for filling in the blanks on their own.

  Whether they believed it or not, Brandon hadn’t slept with his secretary. He hadn’t been carrying on some scandalous affair that she stumbled upon in some epic fashion. It wasn’t an enormous fight that had been boiling between them over their three-year relationship. A big red flag for Cosette should have been raised, even their breakup was boring.

  “We’re moving to Dallas,” Brandon had announced one night, a bottle of celebratory champagne in his hand. A big promotion at his advertising firm meant they’d have to up and move in the next two weeks. “Isn’t it exciting?” he asked, wide eyed and full of expectations. Cosette wondered if he had taken a different approach and had asked her if she wanted to move to Dallas, would she have gone?

  Her argument about her cake shop being her priority elicited a laugh from him that made her near homicidal.

  His argument was worse. “Your shop practically runs itself. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to buy enough flour for the week. You’ve got managers. Just come to Dallas and do something new.” If they’d been standing out on the balcony there was a chance she’d have shoved him off.

  It was those words, that dismissal of the blood, sweat, and tears she’d poured into opening and running her own shop, that pushed her over the edge. When she asserted she wouldn’t be moving to Dallas and he’d have to wait for another more local opportunity to advance his career, Brandon called off the wedding. Just like that. As if he was cancelling a dentist appointment he didn’t feel like going to anymore. The ease at which they decided they wouldn’t get married should have been a good indication they weren’t meant for each other. She was more disappointed she wouldn’t be getting her bridal spa day than the idea she might not see Brandon again.

  Over the years they rarely fought. They never had knock-down, drag-out, name-calling battles that ended in the silent treatment. They were adults about their disagreements. Calculated. Realistic. But all that self-control had also robbed them of the passion. They’d never learned to fight with each other, and therefore had no idea how to fight for each other. Logic made walking away easy for Brandon. And suddenly it became clear. Love had hardly been a consideration.

  Within a week his things were cleared out of their apartment, and he was readying himself for a move from Georgia to Dallas. That meant he was too busy to be the person to cancel all the wedding plans. Cosette had to rewrite her future. She went from being three months away from starting a new chapter to wondering what the next sentence would be. If the book would continue at all.

  The hardest phone call had been to her mother, a diehard optimist. Rather than offer comfort, Matilda Octavia Teason assured her daughter it could all be worked out. Her haughty southern belle accent dusted over the problem like powdered sugar sprinkled on burnt cookies. She was convinced anything could be covered up with something sweet if you tried hard enough.

  “Don’t cancel any of the plans. You’ll only have to call them all back in a week and try to get them sorted out again. Dallas is nice. I went there once with your father when we were young. You’ll be starting a family soon enough anyway, and you’d be getting rid of the shop to be home with my grandchildren. This is just a good reason to get pregnant even sooner.” It was amazing how someone else’s silver lining looked like storm clouds to you.

  The simplicity her mother applied to her problems didn’t bring her comfort. It reminded her what it meant to be a self-made woman in a world that still thought her best accomplishment was being her husband’s wife. Mother to her future children. In the imaginary world her mother created, a cake shop would be some distant memory she talked about on occasion while occupying a bench at the park and chatting with other moms.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want a husband and kids in her life. She did. It just wasn’t all she wanted. Something was missing out of that equation. And in her heart she still felt that with the right person by her side, she could have it all. So could he. So could their future children. If the players were right, the whole team would succeed.

  She hung up from her mother with a sense of renewed optimism. Now the checklist was finished. Caterer canceled. Guests all informed. Honeymoon plans abandoned. That’s what made the call coming in so strange.

  “Cosette, it’s Evangeline
from Gone Tropical Travel; sorry to bother you. Do you have a minute to talk?”

  “I’ve sent payment for the cancelation fees for the honeymoon. Did you not receive the check?” Cosette grabbed her computer, ready to login to her bank account and see if the payment had cleared.

  “I’m looking at the check now,” Evangeline sang in a chipper voice. “But I’m wondering if, instead of using it for these cancelation fees, you’d like to transfer it to a different vacation. I hate to see people write a check and not get a good adventure out of it. It breaks my heart.”

  “It’s only a fraction of what we planned for the honeymoon. It wouldn’t cover the trip we had lined up and with all the other cancelation fees we paid I can’t shell out anymore for a trip. Not to mention I’d be alone.”

  “Alone is my favorite way to travel,” Evangeline countered. Cosette was sure it was probably costing Evangeline a commission of some sort to have a trip canceled. “Listen,” she continued gently, “I can take the amount of this check and turn it into a really nice all-inclusive cruise. You’d be able to see new parts of the world. Enjoy the sun, the sand, recharge.”

  Cosette, laughed as though this were some kind of joke. “It’s a nice thought but I can’t see myself doing it right now.”

  “Close your eyes girl,” Evangeline sighed. “Tell me you can’t see yourself on the deck of a huge ship right now. Tell me you can’t see yourself sunning on a beach with white sand between your toes. Isn’t that exactly what you need right now?”

  “Alone?” Cosette asked, the emotion in her voice beginning to show. The conversation becoming far more intimate than she intended with a stranger.

  “It’s cathartic,” she assured her, the joy returning to her voice. “I’ve done it many times. Being alone with your thoughts, you start to remember who you were before someone else started defining you. Knowing who you are, what you love, is the only way to move forward.”

  “Do you call all the jilted brides and suggest this?” Cosette asked, a breathy chuckle to hide her emotions.

  “Not all,” she admitted. “But most. And I’ve never had anyone come back and regret the fact they did it. You’re either going to take this money and dump it into the black hole of cancelation fees, or use it to bring some joy back to your life.”

  “I’m not upset that I’m not marrying him,” Cosette defended, feeling obligated to explain what separated her from all those other women whose marriages died on the vine before they could be plucked. “Obviously there is a good reason it didn’t happen.”

  “And that’s very adult of you,” Evangeline agreed but didn’t sound convinced. “You can know something is right and still having a broken heart. They aren’t mutually exclusive. It can be the right thing and still hurt.”

  “Where would I go?” Cosette asked, stunned she was actually considering the idea of traveling alone.

  “Oh Cosette, I’ll take care of it all. You won’t regret it.”

  “I’m due for something I won’t regret,” she laughed. “Thank you for thinking about me.”

  “You’re going to be a new woman when you get back,” Evangeline promised.

  Whether Evangeline Tucker was clairvoyant, Cosette couldn’t say. But her assertion that she’d return changed was indisputably true. The trip would alter her life forever.

  Chapter 2

  “Aiden Williams?” The older woman clamoring around the large white tablecloth-covered table asked. Her heavy southern drawl and sweet smile almost peeled back the thick layer of annoyance he’d been wrapped in for the last twelve hours. “We’ve been waiting for you,” she continued, a breathy laugh lightening his mood even more. Aiden preferred to be alone most days but there was something magnetic about this woman. Like a grandmother who’d just called you to the table for a plate of freshly baked cookies.

  “You have?” he asked, taking stock of the rest of the people around the table who were looking partly apologetic. As though this woman was overstepping and they were sorry.

  “I’m Betty,” she offered with a wink and nod. Then gesturing to each person around the table she continued the introductions as he joined them. “This here is Clay, my husband. The redhead giving me the dirty look to be quiet and leave you alone is my daughter, Jules. That handsome fellow there is her husband, Michael. He knows better than to give me a dirty look because he likes to keep his eyes where they are in his head.” Betty smiled in that way that said she wasn’t kidding. “This lovely young lady here is Cosette. She’s not here with us though. She’s alone. Here on this cruise all by herself. Isn’t she stunning?”

  Aiden found himself at a loss for words as he processed this barrage of information. “She is,” he agreed dutifully under Betty’s expecting glare. But it wasn’t just obligation that had him agreeing. Cosette certainly was stunning. Her sand-colored hair skimmed her shoulders, framing her delicate features. Pink cheeks, probably from embarrassment at this point, enhanced her flawless beauty. “We’ll be dining together all week?” he asked, scanning the group again. Michael and Jules looked mortified as they busied themselves flattening their napkins across their laps.

  “All week,” Betty sang loudly. “Cosette is from Georgia. Where are you from, Aiden?” Her hands were woven together and tucked under her chin like a skilled interviewer trying to gain a good story while keeping him at ease.

  “I live in South Carolina,” he explained. “Columbia.” That was true enough. He did have an address there. His mail was still going there last time he checked.

  “That’s not all that far from Georgia,” Betty said, as though it was just an interesting fact some of them around the table may not know. “So you’re here alone? I didn’t realize people still did that but here the two of you are, alone on a cruise. Cosette was engaged, and it didn’t work out. That’s why she’s here.”

  Jules cut in quickly. “And she fully regrets sharing that information with a stranger now. Since the cute old lady who she thought was just being nice actually turned out to be a crazy person.”

  “It’s fine,” Cosette said, waving them all off. “I’m completely fine with it. I don’t mind.” The look in her eyes made Aiden sure that wasn’t the case.

  “And you?” Betty asked, leaving the question wide open, clearly very intentionally.

  “I had a business trip cancel,” Aiden explained, more skilled than Cosette at lying. “I had to use some travel points before they expired, and I figured why not actually take some vacation. Normally I give it back to the company at the end of every year.”

  “Your girlfriend doesn’t mind you working that much?” Betty asked, in between sips of her ice water. If the CIA ever ran out of interrogators to break particularly persistent subjects, they should hire this woman.

  “Ma,” Jules scolded, “if you were any more transparent you’d be a sheet of plastic wrap.”

  “Hush,” Betty hummed, waving her hand animatedly at her daughter. “Don’t interrupt. Let the boy answer.”

  “No girlfriend,” Aiden answered, clearing his throat, but still taking it all in good humor. It had been a while since he’d been around a table with some well-meaning people poking some fun. “No boyfriend either if that was where you were going next. No ex-wife. No kids. I’m just a guy who loves my job and enjoys pissing my mother off when she asks if I’ve met anyone nice.”

  “See was that so hard?” Betty asked, victoriously. “Do you like cake?”

  “Um,” Aiden replied, unable to hide the confusion on his face. “Cake?”

  “Yes,” Betty answered as though the question didn’t need clarification. “Cosette owns a cake shop. It’s her passion. The last guy didn’t value that. What do you think about a woman who has a dream and finds a way to achieve it?”

  Michael had a knowing grin on his face as he spoke. “You would think there would be an easy answer to the question. Pretty cut and dry. But you’d be amazed how quick you can screw this up.”

  Aiden shrugged and gave it a shot. “I think it
’s admirable that someone has a dream and follows it. Any woman who does that would certainly have my respect.”

  “Oh man,” Michael said, dropping his head down and sounding sorry for him.

  Some kind of humming noise spilled out of Michael’s wife, Jules. “How about a woman who stays home to raise her children?” Jules asked angrily. “How about a woman who has a dream to open up that cake shop but puts it on hold to help her sick mother? Those women wouldn’t have your respect?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Aiden tried to clarify. “The question was—”

  “What do you do for work?” Clay asked suddenly, and Jules shot him a look of annoyance for rescuing him. The older man was clearly no novice when it came to navigating these women.

  “Not my passion,” Aiden chuckled, and to his relief everyone but Jules joined in. “I’m an accountant for a nonprofit. Lots of spreadsheets and data. Nothing exciting. How about all of you? What do you do?”

  “I’m a lawyer,” Michael said, also looking relieved for the change of subject. “We’re from Edenville, North Carolina. Jules raises our kids beautifully. Betty and Clay own a restaurant. But that’s not really her calling. Mostly Betty’s job is creating awkwardness and tension where none existed before. Like a magician pulling a really angry rabbit out of a hat.”

  “She deserves a raise then,” Cosette teased, and they all chuckled. “She’s very good at her job.” Even Betty cracked a smile.

  Not the least bit apologetic, Betty pretended to apologize. “Well, pardon me. When I see two young people traveling alone, destiny practically screaming for them to listen, I like to help move things along.”

  “I hate to dash your hope,” Cosette sighed. “I’m pretty sure there is some kind of mandatory waiting period after being dumped before your wedding. They revoke your card for a while I think.”