Elodie awoke to Pearl’s wet kiss, sun streaming through the flimsy curtains. Disoriented, she wondered if her dog walker was on the way and then realized with a start that she was still on Cape Cod, not Park Avenue. She was the dog walker.
She sat up quickly, checking the time. It was seven in the morning.
“Up we go,” she said, pulling a button-down shirt over her pajamas and slipping into a pair of Tory Burch ballerina flats. She pushed back her hair with a headband and picked up Pearl. The solidness of her little dog body never failed to make Elodie smile. So much spirit packed into that compact corporeal form.
She carried Pearl down the hall, down the stairs, and outside to the deck, where she knelt to fasten the leash. Behind her, the screen door opened and she turned to find the man who’d been working in the boat rental booth the day before.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
He broke into a wide grin. “I live here,” he said. “At least, for the summer I do. Tito Barros. Pleasure to meet you. I assume the room worked out?”
“Uh, yes. It did. Thank you.”
Pearl barked and only then did Elodie notice a dog by the man’s feet. Another black pug.
“And who’s this?” Tito said, reaching out to rub Pearl’s head.
“This is Pearl. And yours?”
“Bart,” he said. “I’m taking him to the beach. You’re welcome to join us.”
“I’m just walking her,” Elodie said.
“All the dog parents around here go to the beach at the West End Parking Lot just down the way. Come along.”
Well, why not? It was a beautiful day out, and the beach would probably be a great place to find someone she could hire to do this work for her.
Elodie followed Tito down Commercial, cyclists whirring by in both directions. Couples strolled past holding takeout coffee and eating pastries out of paper bags.
They passed a gated Coast Guard station before the street curved even farther left toward the water. On this end of Commercial, the shops gave way to classic Cape Cod houses lining both sides of the street. The lawns were lush with green grass and colorful hydrangea bushes. A few front yards had a more untamed aesthetic with thickets of wildflowers.
“So what brings you to P’town?” Tito said.
“Business.” She’d been distracted up until that moment from thinking about the argument with Celeste.
“What business is that?”
“Jewelry.”
“Interesting,” Tito said, though his tone of voice suggested just the opposite.
Again she wondered: What could she do to coerce her sister into signing the paperwork? Elodie had long ago learned from her father that everyone had a price. And she was willing to do whatever it took to figure out Celeste’s. In the meantime, she wanted more luxurious accommodations.
“So you work at the boatyard?” she said. He nodded.
“It’s the family business,” he said. “Started by my grandfather. It’s changed a lot over the years. Used to be repairing and building fishing boats but eventually evolved to a mooring field. And we have the boat rentals—you can rent kayaks, pontoon boats, et cetera. Last year we started seal tours.”
“Interesting,” she said—about as enthusiastically as he’d responded to her work.
“It’s seasonal. And it’s flexible enough for me to continue to do volunteer animal rescue on the side.”
“Animal rescue?”
“You’d be surprised how much trouble dolphins can get themselves into.”
They passed a small café called Relish, and Pearl relieved herself.
“How far is this beach?” Elodie said.
“Almost there.”
On the corner to their right, Elodie noticed an extraordinary white clapboard, octagon-shaped house with a widow’s walk.
“That’s a fantastic house,” she said.
“It was built by a whaler in 1850,” Tito said. “It’s had as many lives as a cat: Inn. Restaurant. Retirement home. Today it’s a privately owned house.”
Now, that was the type of place she could settle in to for a few weeks.
“Do you know anyone else who has a place like that to rent out?”
“For next summer?” Tito said.
“No—for the next few weeks.”
He looked at her like she was from another planet. “This season is booked. I rented out my house back in February. That’s why I’m staying at my cousin’s. And the only reason Lidia had a room for you is because her daughter decided not to come home from school for the summer.”
They reached a parking lot, and beyond it, a sprawling view of the bay and a narrow stretch of beach.
“Lidia’s your cousin?”
“No. Lidia’s husband, Manny,” he said.
They cut through the parking lot to a bench at the edge of the beach. Cement stairs led down to the sand.
“I’ll have to wait here. I can’t ruin these shoes,” she said. She sat on the bench and Tito offered to bring Pearl down to the beach and let the dogs off their leashes.
“Is that allowed?” she asked.
“Sure. But no dogs on Race Point Beach. And I’d think twice about Herring Cove because of the coyotes.”
Coyotes?
Tito was already heading down the steps with both dogs. She sat back, watching Pearl hesitate before gingerly trotting around after Bart. She could tell she was both confused by the wide-open space and thrilled by it. The best she got in New York was a crowded pen at the Central Park dog run.
When she was satisfied that Pearl was okay, Elodie turned her attention to a pair of men launching a kayak into the water. A small bird landed on the bench beside her, tilting its brown head quizzically before taking flight once again.
Elodie inhaled, realizing that, as frustrated as she was, there were far worse places to be stuck for a short while. She had no doubt she’d prevail with Celeste. It was just a matter of how long it would take.
Gemma, however, was another story. She’d been noncommittal—disinterested, even—on the phone. If she didn’t take the bait and run out to Provincetown, it would be time for a plan B. But Elodie didn’t think it would come to that.
People always took the bait.