Free Treasure on Lilac Lane: A Jewell Cove Novel by Donna Alward Page B

trouble.
    “If he causes any grief—and I mean any at all, I want you to promise me that you’ll talk to Bryce about it.”
    “I’d rather keep it quiet.”
    “Promise me, Jess. Mike Greer is a manipulative asshole who thinks he can have whatever he wants. I convinced him otherwise once, but I don’t trust him and neither should you.”
    “Don’t worry, I don’t. Not for a second.”
    “So promise me.”
    “I promise. You’re a good brother, Josh.”
    “Of course I am. And remember—you’re not in this alone. You never were. And I can guaran-damn-tee you that you’ve got backup in me, and Tom, and Bryce, and even Rick if it comes to that. The slightest whiff of trouble and you go to any one of us, okay? We’ve got your back one hundred percent.”
    Her throat closed over a wad of tears. “Okay,” she whispered into the receiver.
    “Love you,” he said, making her even more weepy.
    “Love you, too,” she said.
    After she hung up the phone, she went to the bathroom and ran a hot shower, scrubbing away the sweat and the lingering dregs of the nightmare. Too bad she couldn’t scrub away the memories of the past, too. But they were there to stay. She ran the puff over the puckered scar on her belly and swallowed the tears that clogged in her throat, refusing to let them out.
    He’d marked her for life.
    *   *   *
    As maid of honor, it was Jess’s duty to hold a bridal shower for Abby, and she hosted it on the Saturday night one week before the wedding. She closed the store at five, and at seven thirty about a dozen women would descend on her apartment for an evening of food, wine, and silly shower games. She was also aware that the boys were having their stag night tonight.
    Jess put out a few wine bottles and glasses, and then a punch bowl for those who chose not to drink. Her mind automatically drifted to Rick like it seemed to quite frequently these days. She wondered how he was doing in his mother’s house all by himself. And then whether he’d be any trouble at the bachelor party tonight. For Tom’s sake, she hoped not. She was glad that tonight’s party was low-key—just a poker night for four at Josh’s house with pizza and beer. Maybe Rick would be sensible for once.
    And maybe she should spend the time getting ready instead of thinking about Rick so much.
    She mixed the punch in a large juice container and put it in the fridge—she’d add the soda when it was time to serve, and the berries she’d frozen, too. All around the room she’d put jars of her homemade candles, the scent she called “Wedding Cake” which was a yummy blend of almond, white cake, and vanilla scents. Each jar was tied with navy-and-white ribbons—Abby’s wedding colors—with a small silk sprig of lily of the valley. She’d made miniature jars, too, as favors for all the guests, and had popped into the flower shop for a bouquet to help dress up the apartment. Knowing Abby’s preference for warm fall colors, she brought home an enormous arrangement of miniature sunflowers, red gerbera daisies, orange circus roses, lilies, and wheat. She’d deliberately steered away from the paper streamers and wedding bells, though she’d be sure to keep the bows from the presents and make Abby one heck of a “bouquet.” Every bride deserved that sort of silly memento.
    At seven twenty people began arriving. Jess poured the punch, uncorked wine, deposited presents on the glass-topped table, and put her scallops wrapped in bacon under the broiler. Cindy White arrived and brought tortilla chips with salsa and a huge bowl of fresh guacamole. Then came Gloria Henderson, church organist and head of the Historical Society, carrying her Tupperware container of ambrosia salad. Summer swept in, the tips of her hair dyed a new shade of pinkish red and carrying a tray of veggies and dip. Mary and Sarah arrived and added grapes and a variety of cheeses to the feast. Lisa Goodwin, who was one of the last babies to be born at