Page 1 of Lost Love Cove 2
1
CARRIE
The name still echoed in her ears. Trevor Carlton. Lori’s husband. Carrie’s lifelong friend’s husband. The one who had hosted birthdays, toasted anniversaries, Christmases, and new year with them, with that affable smile that made him seem incapable of dishonesty. Through it all, Carrie had never once thought of Trevor as a criminal in any way. The man may have been a lot of things, but deceitful wasn’t one of them.
Her throat tightened as she glanced back at the office door with the taped 'Closed Indefinitely' notice. The words blurred slightly as she stared.
Trevor Carlton wouldn't do this. He couldn't. The man who'd toasted her promotion with genuine tears in his eyes. The man who'd built that treehouse for Lori's nieces with his own hands, working weekends for a month.
But then... the memory of Lori's trembling voice on the phone surfaced. "I don't know who he is anymore, Carrie." Four months before the stroke, Lori confided that Trevor was locking himself in his office, jumping when she entered rooms, and taking calls in the garage. The private investigator Lori had hired—Carrie had forgotten that completely—ruled out an affair but confirmed secretive meetings with attorneys that Trevor had disguised as doctor appointments from his work.
Carrie's stomach twisted. The Trevor she thought she knew and the Trevor who might have sold Matt fraudulent property rights couldn't possibly be the same person. Yet the evidence before her eyes suggested otherwise. Her fingers pressed against her temples, as if she could physically hold these contradicting truths apart.
Carrie's pulse hammered in her temples as connections blazed through her mind like lightning strikes. Trevor. Matt's property. The locked office door. The secretive calls. She curled her hand into a tight fist with her nails biting into her palms to steady herself.No. Stop it. You're jumping to conclusions.
But decades of police work screamed otherwise. The same instinct that had saved her life on numerous occasions now clawed at her chest, demanding she face what she'd been avoiding since she first saw those documents. The word burned in her mind, searing through her denial like a big pink flashing neon sign:FRAUD.Trevor Carlton—her friend's husband, their vacation companion, the man who'd toasted her promotion with tears in his eyes—had committed fraud.
Beside her, Matt's knuckles whitened around the paper, creases radiating from his grip like fault lines. His gaze remained fixed on the "Closed Indefinitely" sign, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "What am I supposed to do now?" The words scraped out barely above a whisper.
The defeated slump of his shoulders made something twist in Carrie's chest. Four years of grief, three years he’d helped to raise his grandson, and now this—the waterfront property he'dsunk everything into might be built on quicksand. Carrie's mind clicked through connections like tumblers in a lock as she thought about Trevor's company. He’d had a partner. The man had bought Trevor’s shares from Lori not long after Trevor had passed away. Carrie remembered how shocked she’d been at the audacity of the slick man with the eyes that took in everything around him like a predator figuring out what he could prey on.
Carrie suppressed a shudder as the thought struck her—Trevor’s business partner would still be responsible for any business that Trevor had passed through their company. Especially Matt’s deal, which would probably have been one of Trevor’s final deals. She dredged up the name of Trevor’s business partner from memory.Dick Stanstead. Yes, that was that sleazeball’s name.
Trevor hadn’t even been buried for two hours when he had approached Lori at the wake, offering to buy Trevor’s share of the business. Carrie had been furious with the man and had started to drag him away, but Lori had stopped her.No, Carrie, he’s right. I’d rather do this now while I’m still numb and in shocked disbelief. At least then it won’t hurt that much.Carrie had insisted on being in the room when they discussed the terms along with Tessa, who ensured Lori wasn’t taken for a ride or taken advantage of in her grief.
Carrie’s eyes narrowed, her mind turning. If this mess was tied back to Trevor, then Dick Stanstead was still responsible.
She took a breath. “Do you know or have any dealings with Trevor’s business partner, Dick Stanstead?”
Matt's head turned, the tendons in his neck visibly tightening beneath his sun-weathered skin. He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing to slits against the harsh Florida sunlight. "Yes. Hewas the one who finalized the deal for my house." His brow furrowed deeper, carving temporary lines across his forehead as the memory seemed to physically pain him. "It was Dick who gave me Ms. Marshall's name as well," he added, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as his fingers absently traced the edge of the document. "He said she was the only one who could help me get the renovation permits for the house and called her a 'miracle worker with the local zoning board.'"
Carrie's gut wrenched like someone had grabbed her intestines and twisted. Warning bells didn't just ring—they screamed through her body, setting every nerve ending on fire. She bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting copper. Not yet. She couldn't accuse Trevor or his partner of fraud out loud. Not yet. The implications would detonate Lori's life like a bomb—her name, her reputation, everything they'd built together smeared with the same filth. And if Lori's work at the company implicated her somehow... Carrie didn’t want to think about that. Not yet, and not until she had all the answers.
"You need to get an attorney," Carrie told him firmly, her gaze flicking back at the taped notice on the glass. The words "Closed Indefinitely"seemed to float there like a death sentence, the afternoon sun catching on the yellowing edges of the tape that curled slightly at the corners, as if even it was trying to escape the finality of what it held.
Matt's laugh came out like broken glass. "An attorney?" His fist clenched against his thigh, knuckles blanching. "I've already mortgaged my retirement and nearly used up all my savings, not to mention the credit cards I’m quickly running to maximum. I might even need to sell Sherri’s car to finish the renovations." His voice cracked on his late wife's name. "There's nothing left to bleed from this stone."
"I know someone who can help," Carrie said quickly, her voice steadying as she straightened her shoulders. The late afternoon sun caught the silver strands in his hair as he turned to face her fully. “If she finds you aren't at fault, and I don't believe you are, then you won't have to shoulder the cost. She'll make sure whoever's responsible pays every penny they owe you, even if she has to drag them through three courts to do it."
Matt dragged a hand through his hair, his eyes flickering between anger and something more vulnerable. "But Trevor is gone," he said, voice catching on the name. He shook his head, as if arguing with himself. "And I can't decide if that makes this better or worse, but how do I get this mess sorted out when the man I dealt with is no longer with us?"
"Trevor's gone, but Dick Stanstead isn't," Carrie said, her eyes lingering on those worrying words 'Closed Indefinitely' taped to the glass. Despite the sweltering Florida afternoon, goosebumps prickled along her arms.What if Stanstead was dead too? What if that explained the closed office?She pushed the grim dark thought away and lifted her chin. "Dick Stanstead’s signature is on your paperwork. The law doesn't care if things get messy. He sealed that deal, and he's still on the hook for every promise in it."
Matt's shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him like air from a punctured tire. He met her gaze, then looked away. "Then... yes," he said finally, his voice rough at the edges. "I'd be grateful for your contact's help." A pause, then quieter: "Assuming they can fit me in."
“Don’t worry, Matt, she’ll make the time,” Carrie assured him, though she didn’t let herself say Tessa’s name just yet. She’d have to have a quiet talk with her daughter. But she was confident Tessa would take the case, knowing how she lovedto fight for the underdog, especially once she learned of Matt’s history. “I’ll get her here from Boston as soon as she can get here.”
“Boston?” Matt looked at Carrie in confusion. “Can your attorney contact practice here in Florida?”
“Yes.” Carrie nodded confidently. Tessa could practice in several states in America, including Florida.
Matt let out a sigh of relief. “Good.” He gave her a tight smile. “I need all the help I can get right now, as I don’t want to lose my house, and I can’t afford an expensive legal battle or to pay more for it. Like I said, it cost me more than I should have ever paid for a property.”
“I understand,” Carrie assured him, and had to stop the urge she suddenly had to hug him. “Let’s get back, and I’ll make a few calls.”
Matt nodded, and they started back toward her car in silence, their footsteps crunching over sun-bleached gravel. The late afternoon sun pressed against her shoulders like a physical weight, but Carrie hardly noticed the heat. She could still see Matt's defeated profile out of the corner of her eye—the slump of his broad shoulders, the downward curve of his mouth that had laughed so easily just days ago, the way his calloused hand absently rubbed at the back of his neck. Something in her chest ached, a tender spot she thought had scarred over long ago.
"Thank you," he said, his voice barely audible as they reached the SUV. His eyes locked with hers, burning with an intensity that made her breath catch. His fingers brushed against her arm, lingering for a heartbeat too long. "You didn’t have to do this for me.” A tight smile crossed his lips, and his eyes were haunted.“Nobody's helped me like this since…” He swallowed and looked away. “Since Sherri.”
