Chapter Thirteen
Cord gripped the steering wheel of his Jeep Grand Cherokee a little tighter than necessary, his knuckles turning white as the vehicle hummed along the narrow country road.
In the passenger seat, Maggie glanced at her middle son, her face impassive but her thoughts churning.
In the back seat, Audrey slouched, earbuds in, pretending not to notice the tension building with every mile.
“I’m not stupid, you know,” Cord said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Sandy, Oliver, and Jill could’ve come today if they really wanted to. They just don’t like Phoebe, and they’re not even pretending anymore.”
Maggie kept her tone neutral. “They just need time, Cord. Change doesn’t come easy for everyone.”
“Sandy’s always vague about his plans outside of work, he didn’t even come up with a good excuse, just said he was busy,” Cord huffed. “And Jill—she’s the chief of police, so I guess she can use her job as an excuse to avoid anything she doesn’t feel like doing. And Oliver? Don’t get me started.”
“To be fair,” Maggie said, “Jill is in the middle of a murder investigation.”
Cord rolled his eyes. “Sure, but I don’t buy for one second that’s the real reason. Only Katie had a legitimate excuse. Working a double at the hospital is valid. The rest of them? Gimme a break.”
Maggie pressed her lips together, glancing in the rearview mirror at Audrey. The girl’s eyes flicked up briefly before returning to her phone screen. It was clear she shared her grandmother’s skepticism about Phoebe, but neither of them dared voice it.
“I know they don’t like her,” Cord continued, gripping the wheel tighter. “They think I don’t notice, but I do.”
“You’re overthinking it,” Maggie replied lightly, though her own misgivings about Phoebe made her uneasy.
Cord’s frustration almost caused a fender bender when he braked too late at a stop sign. Maggie grabbed the door handle instinctively.
“Cord,” she said sharply, “you need to relax. Today is going to be a great day. Let’s not ruin it with a head-on collision before we even get there.”
The Barker property came into view, and Maggie’s first impression was one of weary charm.
The large colonial house had good bones, but its weathered exterior was in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint.
The shutters sagged slightly, and the roof showed signs of wear.
The gardens were tidy but sparse, with bare patches where grass struggled to grow.
It was clear Bert and Rhonda Barker were doing their best to keep things up, but the house’s age and the family’s financial limitations were evident.
Bert and Rhonda stood on the porch to greet them, waving enthusiastically. Bert’s smile was broad, but his eyes held a hint of strain. Rhonda’s smile was warm but didn’t quite reach her eyes, as if a mountain of worry lingered just beneath the surface.
“Welcome!” Bert said as they climbed out of the Jeep.
Phoebe was conspicuously absent.
“Where’s Phoebe?” Cord asked, glancing around.
“Upstairs,” Rhonda said with a laugh. “She’s still getting ready. Wants to look perfect for you, Cord.”
Cord’s irritation melted as he grinned. “She always looks perfect.”
While Bert and Cord exchanged pleasantries, Maggie’s attention drifted to the house next door. Chips Hogan’s property was silent and forlorn, its windows dark and its once-bustling garden overgrown.
“It’s so sad,” Maggie murmured. “The house looks so empty now. What’s going to happen to it?”
Bert shrugged. “Not sure. Chips didn’t have any family left, as far as I know. His son died in that motorcycle accident years ago, and his ex-wife passed before him. If no one claims the property, it’ll probably go to auction.”
“Would you consider buying it?” Maggie asked.
Bert hesitated. “We’ve thought about it, but with the wedding costs … Well, money’s tight. If the price is right, maybe we could scrape something together, but I’m not holding my breath.”
Maggie nodded sympathetically. “I’d be happy to help with the wedding costs, Rhonda,” she said softly, pulling her aside.
Rhonda’s face flushed. “That’s very kind of you, Maggie, but Bert wouldn’t hear of it. He’s proud, you know.”
Before Maggie could respond, a car door slammed, and a wiry young man with unkempt hair and a sharp scowl strode toward them.
“Evan,” Rhonda said, her tone cautious. “We didn’t think you’d make it today.”
“Why? You don’t want me here?” Evan snapped, his words like a whip.
“Of course we do,” Rhonda said quickly, her smile strained. “We’re so happy you’re here.”
Bert stepped forward, clapping his son on the shoulder. “Come on, Evan, let’s get you a drink.”
Rhonda leaned in, her voice barely audible to Maggie. “Bert, maybe that’s not a good idea.”
Bert waved her off dismissively. “One drink won’t hurt.”
Maggie watched the interaction closely, sensing Rhonda’s unease. It was clear she feared what might happen if Evan drank, but Bert seemed determined to avoid conflict.
They all headed inside the house.
As the tension ebbed, Phoebe appeared at the top of the staircase, her golden dress catching the light as she descended.
Cord beamed with pride. “You look amazing,” he murmured, pulling her into a kiss when she reached him.
Maggie forced a smile, but Phoebe’s polished exterior didn’t reassure her. The young woman was too poised, too calculated. Something about her didn’t sit right.
“I’m taking Audrey on a tour of the grounds,” Evan announced suddenly, his eyes darting toward her.
Audrey hesitated, glancing at Maggie.
“Maybe we can all go after lunch?” Maggie suggested lightly.
Evan’s expression darkened. “Why doesn’t anyone want me to be a good host? I’m just trying to show her around!”
“Let them go,” Bert said quickly, his voice placating. “We’ve got a bit before brunch is ready.”
Audrey gave Maggie a small, reassuring nod before following Evan out.
As Evan led Audrey away, he smirked over his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll trample all over the land Chips Hogan claimed was his. Not like he’s around to stop me now.”
The comment hung in the air, sour and heavy.
Maggie tilted her head. “Phoebe mentioned there was a disagreement with Chips about the land?”
Bert sighed, clearly reluctant to delve into the topic.
“When we built the stone wall to separate the properties, Chips said part of his land was on our side. We hired a surveyor, and it turned out he was right. He wanted to tear down part of the wall to put in a fountain—said running water relaxed him—but we couldn’t afford to start over.
Things got heated, lawsuits were filed, but … well, then Chips died unexpectedly.”
Phoebe crossed her arms, her voice sharp. “He was being completely unreasonable. It was so frustrating for my parents. Honestly, when I heard at your Sunday dinner that he’d died, I wasn’t exactly heartbroken.”
“Phoebe,” Rhonda said, her tone reproachful.
“What?” Phoebe said, shrugging. “I’m not a hypocrite, Mother. I’m not going to shed fake tears over a man who made life miserable for my family.” She turned to Cord with a dazzling smile. “I’d love to buy Chips’s property myself, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to live next door to my parents.”
Cord laughed, oblivious to the undercurrents. “I don’t know … free babysitting might be nice someday.”
Maggie’s smile remained fixed, but her unease deepened.
Was Phoebe angling for Chips’s property?
And was marrying Cord a means to acquire it?
And what about Bert and Rhonda? Could the property dispute have driven them to desperate measures?
But that seemed ridiculous on the surface.
Would anyone really poison a man’s chowder over a six-foot property line dispute?
But stranger things had happened in the history of Halibut Cove.
As the group filed into the living room for pre-brunch mimosas, Maggie’s unease lingered, a quiet storm brewing beneath her polite facade.