Before long, they'd reached their destination. Adam opened the back door and took Isla's hand as she stepped out. They were in the driveway of a peacock blue house with a white balcony stretching the length of it. Palm trees dotted the property. It was a lovely spot and although it lacked the grandeur of the chalet, there was something about it she liked. Perhaps it was the smell of salt air, or the sound of the waves in the background.
"Mrs. Blake is expecting you," said Adam.
"Who?" It was then that Isla noticed the sign on the front lawn. Golden Sands B&B. "This is a bed and breakfast?" Her eyes widened in surprise.
Adam smiled as he lifted their luggage from the back.
"Do we have the place to ourselves?" asked Marlowe, equally astonished.
"Mrs. Blake will explain everything." Adam wasn't giving them any information. "I'll be back for you on Sunday morning." With that, he got back in the car and drove away.
Marlowe picked up the luggage. "Alrighty then. Let's go see Mrs. Blake."
A plump old lady answered the doorbell. With snow white curls and a red apron dotted with flour, she looked for all the world like Mrs. Claus.
"Good evening, Mrs. Blake," said Marlowe. "I believe you're expecting us."
"Oh yes," she said with a warm laugh. "You're the late check-ins. Come in, come in." She stepped aside so they could enter. "I'm Mrs. Pope. Mrs. Blake had a family issue to deal with, so she asked me to meet you."
"Nothing too serious, I hope," said Marlowe. He was clearly handling this better than Isla, whose mouth was hanging slightly open.
"Not at all." Mrs. Pope's eyes twinkled with delight. "Her daughter went into labour. This is Caroline's first grandchild, so she wanted to be there."
"Of course she did," said Marlowe. "It's very nice of you to help her out."
Mrs. Pope pulled a ledger from the desk in the hallway. "Let's see now . . . oh yes, Mr. and Mrs. Marlowe. You're in the loft."
Mister and missus? Isla shot Marlowe a sideways glance. He merely shrugged.
Laughter erupted from somewhere in the house.
"You have other guests?" asked Isla.
"Oh yes," said Mrs. Pope. "You know, it's strange. When Caroline left yesterday, you were her only booking. This place is usually so full! I guess she was trying to keep a light schedule with the baby coming and all." She paused to write something in the ledger. "She only asked that I let you in, but of course that wouldn't be very hospitable now would it? I thought you'd at least want a cup of tea after your trip. And then we had two inquiries for last minute reservations . . . well, I couldn't turn them away. Not with the economy the way it is."
"You're a good friend to her," said Marlowe.
Isla put a hand to her mouth. She was finally starting to recover from the curveball that was Mrs. Pope, and giggles were overtaking her.
"Come meet the other guests."
Marlowe tucked their bags against the desk and reached for Isla's hand. She laced her fingers through his and together they followed their hostess into a sunken living room at the back of the house. Candles were burning, music was playing, and the smell of home baking filled the air.
"Everyone, excuse me. This is Mr. and Mrs. Marlowe," said Mrs. Pope. "Help yourself to a drink. There's red and white wine, but I can make you some tea or coffee if you'd prefer."
"Wine is perfect," said Marlowe. As he poured two glasses of red wine, a timer beeped from the kitchen and Mrs. Pope went off to check her baking. "There you go, Mrs. Marlowe," he said, handing her a glass."
Isla laughed. "A bit of a different getaway than I was expecting," she said.
"A bit different than Eve expected too, I dare say." He put his arm over her shoulders. "I guess we'll just go with it."
"I guess so."
An attractive couple about their age approached. "Hi, I'm Jennifer Scott," said the woman. "And this is my husband, Michael."
"Pleased to meet you," said Marlowe. "I have to say, I've never had such a warm welcome at a bed and breakfast before." He nodded toward the fruit and cheese trays on the table. "Mrs. Pope has certainly gone to a lot of trouble."
"We told her there was no need," said Jennifer. "But I think she's enjoying the company, to be honest."
Isla smiled politely and wondered how much chitchat they'd have to endure before they could go up to their room. They certainly seemed like nice people, but it was Marlowe she wanted.
"I'm sorry," said Jennifer. "I didn't catch your first names."
Hairs prickled on the back of Isla's neck. "Grace," she said, wondering how in God's name Marlowe would answer.
Jennifer and Michael looked at Marlowe, who was taking a long, slow drink of wine.
Isla racked her brain for a way out of this. They weren't prepared to answer questions.
He could delay no longer, and she sensed a shift in him — tension that hadn't been there before. "I'm Colin," he said. Without looking at her, he reached for her hand. She took it and squeezed it gently.
"I'm a bit tired from the trip," said Isla, cursing herself for not having thought of this thirty seconds earlier. "Would you excuse us?"
The Scotts returned to the other guests, leaving Grace and Marlowe to gather their bags and head upstairs to the loft.