Moondust Lake

Book 3: Miramar Bay

by Davis Bunn

Genres: Literary Fiction; Romance

Synopsis

From the internationally bestselling author of Firefly Cove comes a powerful novel of healing old wounds, surprising second chances, and letting the heart lead the way . . .

What to do with a life where everything he's worked for is shattered?

A top executive in the family business, Buddy Helms lives and works under the thumb of his powerful father. He's proved himself time and again to the manipulative patriarch—even saving the company from financial ruin. Yet for six years Buddies waited to hear that hes worthy of his father's love and respect. Now, after another cold dismissal, Buddy's slamming the door on everything hes strived for.When his church counselor recommends a soothing tonic for his disillusionment, frustration, and rage, he grabs at it: the solitude of Moondust Lake, a retreat just outside Miramar Bay.

Believing in others comes easily—it's believing in herself that's a risk . . .

Kimberly Sturgiss is a professional psychotherapist, whose tragic past has granted her a rare ability to gently release her patients from their self-made prisons. She's well acquainted with the Helms family and the dark burdens that come with them. But the most intriguing challenge of all is Buddy. He and Kimberly share more than she's prepared to admit—the same emotional cage, the guarded heart, and the broken trusts that come with being alive. Maybe its finally time that Kimberly finds herself, tooby reaching out to the man who's reaching out to her.

Poignant and heartfelt, Moondust Lake is an uplifting novel about searching for all the things in life that matter, embracing them, and never letting go.

Release date: December 18, 2018

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 300

Sample

Daniel sat in his usual seat at the back of the classroom. The church basement was frigid, which suited newcomers sweating off a hard night or facing the thought of another sober day. Daniel rarely made more than two AA meetings a week. But this one, today of all days, he never missed. He considered it an annual ritual, starting this day here, marking another year clean and sober. Such small triumphs were a huge part of his new world.

Maintaining his normal calm was harder today. Added to the prospect of what lay ahead was the text Daniel had just received from his sister. He had not heard from Lisa in over a year. Her message simply read that she was arriving in a half hour and they had to meet. Immediately. Which left Daniel worried that Lisa wanted to join him for this annual ritual. The prospect had him sweating as hard as the newcomers.

When the meeting broke up, a woman seated around the curve of chairs made a beeline straight for him. It didn’t happen so often anymore. Four years out of the limelight was an eternity in the world of television stardom. Daniel watched her approach and mentally retreated into his safe little shell. No matter what she said or how she came on to him, he would stay shielded.

Only this time his friend and former sponsor was there to block the lady’s arrival. “You’re new, aren’t you?” Travis was African American, six years older than Daniel’s thirty-five, and a former linebacker with the LA Rams. When his knee went out, Travis had discovered the glory of combining prescription painkillers with sour mash. He’d been clean for nine years and counting. “Can I help you with something?”

“I just want to speak with—”

“We don’t do that here.” Travis held up a hand wide as a shovel. “Anonymous means exactly what it says on the sign out front.”

But addicts were not people who were big on restraint. Obsessive behavior was part of their personality. The woman tried to shoulder past him. She might as well have tried to move the church off its foundation. “I’m not going to bother him.”

“That’s right, you’re not.” Gentle as he could, Travis spun her about. “Coffee and doughnuts are to your right, and the exit’s to your left. Those are your only choices.”

“But—”

“You have yourself a good and sober day, now.” When he was certain the woman was well and truly gone, Travis turned around and asked, “You okay?”

“Never better.” Which was at least partly the truth. “You?”

“I’m not the one looking at another visit to the Ninth Step.” He referred to the ninth stage of AA sobriety, making peace with past mistakes and the people who littered that dark road. Travis gave him a moment to respond, then asked, “You ready to head on out?”

Today would mark the fourth time Travis had made the journey. Daniel replied, “You don’t need to come. Goldie’s waiting in the car.” Goldie, his dog, had been found in the local rescue shelter, the name stamped on a tattered collar. Kimberly, his late fiancée, had gone with a friend who was looking for a pet. But Kimberly was the one who had come home with Goldie. Four weeks later, Kimberly was gone.

“Dog or no dog, I’m not letting you do this on your own.” As they started toward the exit, Travis said, “There’s this lady, she works for Miramar Township. I’m telling you, man, the lady is a definite ten. Ricki wants to get you two together.” Ricki was Travis’s wife, and a mover and shaker in the Miramar community. “The lady’s been divorced for seven years, almost as lonely as you.”

“Today’s not a good time.”

But Travis blocked that easily enough. “Ricki’s outside waiting. You’ll need to tell her that yourself. If you dare.”

When Daniel stepped through the church doors, Ricki stood by his pickup, chatting happily with one of the church staffers. Goldie had managed to slip through the truck’s partially opened window and sat contentedly by Ricki’s feet. Daniel said, “Handle this blind date thing for me, I’ll owe you big-time.”

Travis grinned in response. “Not a chance in the whole wide world.”

“Isn’t that what sponsors do? Handle?”

“Best you not suggest to Ricki that her wanting to hook you up with a friend threatens your walk down the straight and narrow. Ricki might see that as a good reason to go ballistic.”

As soon as she spotted Daniel, she hugged the woman and hurried over. “Did Travis tell you about my friend?”

“Today’s not a good—”

“I’m telling you the same thing I did my man when he tried that line on me this morning.” Ricki was a statuesque beauty in her late thirties. She was tall and sloe-eyed and had run hurdles and relay for the US Olympic Team. When Travis had been at his weakest, Ricki had stood by him and given him a reason to crawl out of that dark cave. “It’s time you woke up.”

Travis stepped around to stand beside his wife. He made Ricki look as small as a porcelain ballerina. “Might as well go with it, my man. Treat it like a trip to the dentist.”

Ricki looked up at her husband. “Did those words actually come out of your mouth?”

But Travis wasn’t done. “Fighting just don’t do a thing but prolong the misery.”

“Oh, you.” Ricki gripped her husband’s arm and swung it back and forth. It was like tugging on a tree trunk. “I’m telling you what’s the truth. It’s time you returned to life.”

“Girl, do you even hear yourself?” Travis tried to reclaim his arm, but Ricki refused to let go. “The man is about to go visit the grave of his one true love, and you’re hooking him up with another lady.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Ricki kept swinging her man’s arm.

“Look at him. The man is not interested.”

“That’s because Daniel hasn’t met her yet.”

Travis shook his head. “Like a dog with a bone.”

“Only because I’m right, and you two know it.” She glared at Daniel. “You just wait ’til Chloe hears how you’re acting.”

Chloe was their teenage daughter. She was strong and beautiful, like her parents, and considered Miramar to be the most boring place on the planet. Forcing her to live there was all the justification Chloe needed for being perpetually sullen. Daniel said, “I have to go.”

“You’re coming over for dinner tonight,” Ricki said. “That’s not an invitation, it’s an order.”

Up until that moment, Goldie had been tracking the conversation as though she understood every word. Labradoodles were known as the smartest breed going, though they were not officially a breed at all. Daniel was amazed at the number of people who felt it was their duty to stop him on the street and lecture him about his dog, like the two of them couldn’t possibly survive without some additional fact or criticism. It was usually an older person, somebody who had been born cranky, who’d spent years waiting for the chance to poke him in the chest and tell him how fortunate he was, or what a travesty of a dog Goldie was, something. All he could say for certain was, Goldie had seen him through some very rough times and in the process had become his best friend.

Goldie chose that moment to swivel about, inspect the empty street, and give a soft whoof.

Daniel had long come to trust the instincts of his almost silent dog. He was about to ask what it was when he heard it too.

So did Ricki. “What is that?”

Travis smiled at Daniel. “Sounds to me like the bad old days.”

Then the silver-gray rocket appeared at the road’s far end, downshifted, and blasted around the corner, doing maybe eighty miles an hour but handling the curve like it was planted on rails.

“Yep,” Travis said. “All the trouble that money can buy.”

The Ferrari GTC Tourer had cost a cool quarter mil. It possessed a five-liter twin turbo that produced twice the horsepower of an Escalade but weighed about as much as Daniel’s right front tire. Thankfully, its acceleration was matched by four ceramic brakes as large as serving platters. Lisa sprang from the car the instant it halted. His sister’s energy had always amazed Daniel. She raced through each day with lightning speed, chattering a million miles a minute, sparking the world with her runway smile. The light in her eyes was positively magnetic. She had been drawing male moths to her flame since before she could walk. Their mother had liked to tell people what a trial it had been taking the infant Lisa to the supermarket, how strangers would follow them around, wanting to touch or hold or coo over the incredible baby with the magnetic glow. Daniel was more like their father, a placid and scholarly gentleman who had been great with numbers. Lisa was more like …

No one, really.

Their mother had called Lisa her changeling, and had not always meant it in a positive manner. Lisa had learned early on how to shape her energy and her beauty to fit the moment. She’d started modeling at fourteen. Nowadays she lived by the principle that the world could be molded to suit her mood. Daniel thought she played at life like an electric butterfly, flittering from one experience to the next. Her one constant was Marvin, a Jewish entertainment lawyer who endured Lisa’s mercurial ways with stolid good cheer. Marvin loved Lisa enough to accept that she would never change. She in turn remained with Marvin. Their friends said it was as close to a perfect marriage as LA allowed.

There were two distinct downsides to Lisa, two elements that marred the oh-so-perfect image she showed the world.

One was her rage. It did not surface very often, but when it did, Lisa treated the world to a scorched-earth policy.

The other issue was Nicole, their daughter. Mother and daughter had a relationship that could best be described as molten. Daniel’s niece basically had nothing whatsoever in common with her mother. Nicole was by no means unattractive. She was simply not in Lisa’s league. Nicole was placid and reserved and watchful. The people who populated Lisa’s world tended to dismiss Nicole with an empty smile. Nicole, in turn, thought they were Hollywood dodos and not worth the space they occupied.

Daniel had not seen his niece or her mother in four years, since the day Lisa had banned him from ever communicating with her or her family. Another sample of his sister in a rage.

When Lisa sprang from the car, the word that came to Daniel’s mind was incandescent.

She did not speak. Nor did she actually look at anyone directly until Goldie greeted her with a cautious whoof. Then Lisa wheeled about and glared at the dog with such intensity, Goldie backed up between Daniel’s legs and cowered.

Which gave Nicole time to get out of the car, race around, and hide behind Daniel and his dog.

Lisa proceeded to open the Ferrari’s minuscule trunk and dump an amazing amount of clothes and gear on the sidewalk by his feet. It was like watching a clown act at the circus, twelve jesters tumbling out of a car the size of a tuna can. Clothes and teen cosmetics and laptop and phone and shoes and school-books and two satchels and more clothes.

Finally, Lisa slammed the trunk shut and stormed over to Daniel. He could feel Nicole take a two-fisted grip on the back of his shirt and hated how she crouched in genuine terror. From her mother.

Electric friction turned Lisa’s white-gold hair into a witch’s hat. “You owe me.”

Daniel nodded. That much was certainly true. “Lisa, you’re scaring your daughter.”

His sister gave off a cackle that Daniel thought came straight from the Night of the Valkyries. “She’s lucky she’s not dead.”

Without another word, his sister wheeled about and headed back for the car.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

She paused long enough to shoot another laser-guided bomb, this one directed at her daughter. “To try and save my marriage.”

No one moved until the Ferrari vanished from sight. Lisa’s rage was that strong.

As Lisa’s car whined into the far distance, Daniel heard the sound of quiet snuffling. He turned around and saw Nicole struggling to hide her sobs.

Daniel was still searching for the right response when Ricki wrapped her arms around the girl and said, “We got you, honey.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Nicole said.

“Of course not. And even if it was, your mama has no right—”

“All I did was have a gene test.”

Travis asked Daniel, “Say what?”

The day flashed into clarity, like a broken lens knitting itself back together. Daniel said, “Nicole has insisted for years that Marvin isn’t her dad.”

The two of them, Travis and Ricki, would have made a comic pair if the moment had not been so serious. Two strong and intelligent people reduced to standing there in slack-faced shock, their mouths twin round O’s.

“I called the hotline of that website,” Nicole said.

“Ancestry.com,” Daniel said.

“No. The other one. Twenty-Three and Me. They sent me the sample kits.” She turned slightly, not exactly a shrug, but enough for Ricki to release her. “I knew I was right. And now I have proof.”

Travis studied the sky, the pavement, the parking lot. Daniel said, “So you told them, and now you’re—”

“Why don’t you two just get on down the road,” Ricki fastened a hand on Nicole’s shoulder, her tone sharp. “Let us get on with living.”

“I just said—”

“I know what you were saying, and I know what you were thinking, and I don’t know which is worse.” Ricki fastened a hand on Nicole’s shoulder and steered her around. “When was the last time you had something to eat, child?”

“I don’t know.” The sniffles returned. “Yesterday, I guess.”

“You like pancakes? Of course you do. You just come with me.” Ricki glared at the two men. “Don’t y’all have someplace better to be?”

Daniel watched them walk away. “When did I become the bad guy in all this?”

Travis was already gathering a load of Nicole’s gear. “Sometimes you just got to accept that all the world’s problems are your fault. Come on, let’s get ourselves gone.”

On the three previous anniversaries, Travis had insisted on driving them in his Escalade. Daniel’s F150 twin cab had more than enough room, even for Travis. But Daniel’s former AA sponsor liked to be in control for this particular jaunt. His aim was to get Daniel there and back, safe and sober. Let his pal know Daniel didn’t face this alone. Even if he thought Daniel was just adding to the list that no longer existed. The one that was headed Reasons to Go Get Wasted.

But today Ricki had their SUV and was off doing whatever it took to convince Nicole that she had not single-handedly tossed a grenade into her mother’s version of happy-ever-after.

As soon as Daniel pulled into the cemetery’s main lot, Goldie poked her head between them, gave a single whoof, then started scratching at the rear door. Which was amazing. They only came here once each year. And Goldie had only been six months old when the accident had claimed Daniel’s fiancée. But every year it was the same. As soon as the cemetery came into view, Goldie was frantic to get out there. He cut the motor and watched Goldie fit her entire body through five inches of open window.

Goldie leapt from the car and shot down the path rimmed by Monterey cypress. But Daniel did not move. Not yet. Travis had a spiel he used to start every lecture about staying clean and sober. It began with how guilt would kill a guy faster than a Glock.

Only today was different.

Travis cleared his throat, tapped his fingers nervously against the side window, and said, “About what we were just talking about.”

Daniel assumed he meant Nicole, which seemed an odd thing to bring up now. But Daniel’s attention remained mostly elsewhere. The wind was up, blowing off the ocean strong enough for the treelimbs to wave like beckoning hands.

Travis went on, “Maybe it’s time for you to wake up, like the lady said.”

That turned him around. “You’re really think this is the place and time for us to be having that conversation?”

Travis shrugged. “To tell the truth, I’m thinking maybe Ricki doesn’t have it wrong. What if it’s time to get back into the big world?”

Daniel studied his friend. The man who had stared down the world’s most fearsome offensive linesmen actually looked worried. “Tell me what’s going on, Travis.”

He sighed. “Ricki’s friend is worried there might be money missing from the city’s accounts.” Travis had been born in Nashville and raised there until his massive build and his speed brought him to the attention of university scouts. His native down-home roots tended to come out when he was stressed. Like now. “She and Ricki have been worrying over this for two, maybe three months now.”

Ricki had served two terms on the city council. That was back before Chloe, their daughter, turned into a full-time occupation. “Why don’t they take it to the police?”

“This is where things get complicated.”

“What were they before?”

“The lady claims the way things are structured, it looks like she’s been the one with her fingers in the till.” Travis swiped his face with one massive hand. “Ricki got worried enough, she tried to bring in an outside accountant and got shut down.”

“Who could do that?”

“The mayor. Her office, anyway. Said it was none of Ricki’s business, and everything was fine, like that.” Travis gave him a look that came as close to fear as Daniel had ever seen. “We’re talking over seven million dollars. This is bound to come to light. Ricki is up nights, worrying the real thieves have set up her friend to take the fall.”

Daniel was tempted to open his door and start down the path. But he remained where he was, staring out the front windscreen. If he didn’t shut this down now, Travis would start in on him again when he returned from the grave site. When he was too weak to resist.

The emerald lawn to either side of the central lane was dotted with headstones and regret. Daniel knew exactly what Travis had not said. That his past life had made him the perfect guy to dive into the hidden numbers and find out what was going on. But that man had died in the accident, along with his fiancée. Daniel was a different person now. He lived a simple life. He stayed clean. He took one day at a time. No matter what Travis might say once he returned to the truck, Daniel’s answer would not change. Those days were over and done for good.

Stella’s day began by breaking the contract she thought she had signed with fate. This one. . .