Chapter 12
The following morning, Ruth was up at the crack of dawn, peering out the window with a coffee cup in hand and willing herself to take the biggest risk of her time in Bluebell Cove yet. She had to walk past the Caldweck place. She had to see what was happening there.
For the previous six weeks in Bluebell Cove, she’d explored what she could.
She’d researched the Caldwecks at the library and via eavesdropping and light interviews with Bluebell Cove residents.
Through it all, she’d been careful not to insinuate that she wanted anything more than easy information about them.
They didn't need to know she was in town, or that she was on to them.
As she donned her hiking boots and zipped up her sweatshirt, Ruth gave herself a pep talk.
“Quentin Caldweck is not a monster. He’s a man.
He can be reasoned with,” she reminded herself.
She recalled the image of him all those years ago, sobbing outside of the house she’d shared with her three roommates, Dina, Reese, and Kelly.
She remembered how he’d begged to raise the baby with her.
She remembered that she’d told him to leave her and the baby alone.
“And now, look at yourself,” she said to her image in the mirror, which reflected a lonely, gaunt forty-something woman with nothing to her name save a few bylines. She shook the nastiness out of her mind, grabbed her key, and went downstairs.
She prayed that Sophie wasn’t working the front desk. She didn’t like the way the young woman’s eyes burned into her, as though she were trying to figure out who she was and what she wanted. As though Sophie already knew too much.
But instead of Sophie, Ruth ran into Celia at the bottom of the staircase. Celia was bright and cheery, eating a croissant. “Ruth! I can’t believe it, but we haven’t spoken about your article about the Eco-Lodge yet!”
“Oh, yes. Well.” Ruth’s smile waned slightly.
Although she wasn’t entirely proud of the article she’d whipped together about the Eco-Lodge, she knew she’d spoken enough about its beauty and its wonderful clientele to make Celia and the rest of the Harpers happy.
Her editor, too, had liked it. “Good enough,” she’d muttered to herself after rereading it a third time.
“I really can’t thank you enough,” Celia said.
“It was perfect. We’ve already had so many inquiries for the autumn and winter, our slowest seasons.
You know, you can really feel that Yale education in your prose.
I adore the way you described the cliffs and the air and the water.
And the food!” Celia’s eyes sparkled. “Where are you off to?”
Ruth explained that she was heading out for a hike.
“Oh! Me too. I mean, I was planning to hike today,” Celia said. “Why don’t we go together?”
Ruth’s heart filled with dread. “I had, um. I had a plan where…”
“Tell me! I’d love to join.” Celia raised a finger, then said, “I have to track down my hiking boots, but they’re around here somewhere. One sec.”
Ruth remained at the bottom of the stairs, her heart pounding.
What was wrong with the Harpers? Why were they so focused on togetherness, on bonding?
Why did they seem so insistent on bonding with Ruth Landers?
She probably should have found another inn or hotel for the rest of her stay and not remained here for so long.
But the truth was, she liked the Eco-Lodge.
It was comfortable, and the food was good, and the location was impeccable.
She’d gone for numerous night swims. She’d eaten her weight in croissants.
Just then, Ruth heard Sophie at the front desk, chatting with another guest. “Here’s a hiking map and our list of recommended restaurants,” she said brightly.
The guest said something Ruth couldn’t hear, then walked past the front desk and into the morning light. Celia appeared a moment later, her hiking boots on and her smile bigger than ever. “I hate to keep going on about this, but I’m a journalist, too, and I want to pick your brain,” she said.
“Great,” Ruth said, her tone sour.
Striding past the front desk, Celia said goodbye to Sophie. “Call me if you need anything,” she said.
“Enjoy your day off!” Sophie smiled.
Again, Sophie’s eyes dug into Ruth. Ruth wondered if she was still thinking about what Ruth had said that night at the water, how there were dangerous people in Bluebell Cove. Why had Ruth revealed so much to those young women? What had come over her?
Ruth explained the route she wanted to take: along the cliffs before scooping around the bigger houses in the area. Celia’s nose quivered with what Ruth decided was distaste.
“I want to get a sense for the other side of Bluebell,” Ruth said finally. “I know there are wealthy people who live here. I know they don’t often rub shoulders with the other Bluebell residents.”
Celia’s eyes seemed heavy. “This doesn’t sound like a happy tourism article.”
“I think it’s going to be something else. For my novel,” Ruth said hurriedly. “I want to capture the darkness of small-town life, alongside the light.”
“There’s always a darkness,” Celia said sternly. “We Harpers know that better than most.”
It took Ruth and Celia about thirty-five minutes of hiking along the cliffside before they reached the glamorous, multimillion-dollar houses.
Eyeing them from the other side of a tall fence, Ruth tried to catapult herself back to the year 2002—the last time she’d been in Bluebell Cove, when the Caldwecks had “welcomed” her into the fold for Christmas.
So many years later, she could still taste some of the food they’d served.
She could still remember what she’d looked like in the outfits they’d gifted her to meet their fabulous friends.
She’d been a fish out of water in nearly every respect. And she hadn’t even known it till the end of her stay, when she’d overheard Quentin’s siblings and father talking about her. Explaining to one another just how wrong she was in their environment.
Not long after that, she’d broken things off, and Quentin had gotten back together with his ex-girlfriend, CeeCee. CeeCee, who’d warned Ruth about the Caldwecks. Why hadn’t Ruth listened to her? Could Ruth trust anyone in the world?
Beside her on the trail, Celia happily chatted away. It was clear that Celia thought that she and Ruth were becoming real friends. It behooved Ruth to allow her to think that. She needed to fold herself easily into the Bluebell Cove fabric.
The fact of it was, Ruth couldn’t remember the last time she’d made an actual friend.
Her days of befriending Dina, Reese, and Kelly felt like ancient history.
She couldn’t remember what it was like to open her heart to anyone.
Celia seemed to buy her smiles and her light jokes.
Maybe Ruth hadn’t forgotten what it meant to socialize, after all.
All at once, Ruth stopped short, realizing that they were directly on the other side of the Caldwecks’ fence. She swallowed the lump in her throat and told herself to keep moving. But her legs refused to go.
Celia unscrewed the top of her water bottle and drank, eyeing the massive house. “It’s something, isn’t it?” she said finally. And then she lowered her voice and said, “I think that’s the Caldweck house.”
“Caldweck?” Ruth murmured. She could hardly breathe.
“They’re one of the wealthiest families on the East Coast,” Celia said.
“According to research I was dipping my toes into last year, they own about two hundred and fifty factories along the coast and into the Midwest. I couldn’t prove it, exactly, but there have been suspicions of terrible business practices.
Terrible environmental practices. Terrible everything, actually. ”
Ruth’s heart shook like a drum. “Why doesn’t somebody stop them?”
Celia grimaced and explained that three years ago, she and Sophie had been instrumental in stopping another wealthy Bluebell family from destroying the coastline.
“Since then, I think the wealthy families in the area have gotten better at protecting themselves. I couldn’t figure out exactly what they’re up to.
Then again, I’m not as hungry for stories as I once was.
There’s so much to take care of at the Eco-Lodge.
” She gave Ruth a look that Ruth couldn’t fully translate.
Ruth raised her chin, trying and failing to see anything in the backyard, in the front yard, in the windows.
It looked like an ominous, empty mansion, a place where wealthy people sat in air-conditioned rooms and hated everyone and everything that wasn’t them.
It was hard to believe she’d ever sat with them, eating caviar and drinking champagne and trying and failing to learn their ways.
“Let’s go,” Ruth stammered, disappointment making her stomachache. Why had she been so sure that she’d see something? Why had she been so sure that, if she were brave enough to walk past the Caldweck mansion, she’d figure something else out?
But a few minutes deeper into the hike, Ruth asked Celia for all the information Celia had about the Caldweck family fortune, about the factories, about the terrible business practices. Maybe Celia was more useful to Ruth than she’d initially thought.