It sounded like a horn, somewhere beyond the surf or perhaps a distance down the shoreline. Zara stood at the end of Frederickport Pier, speculating on where it was coming from. Her guess would be a lighthouse. Overhead, the bright moon painted light on the water’s surface, and nearby a fisherman cast out his line.
This was where Loyd had said she would find him. Of course, he had refused to be any more specific than that. Considering what had happened at his house, she didn’t imagine he was going to tell her more; he wasn’t ready. But she wasn’t giving up. If she couldn’t find what she needed on her own, she would return to his house and demand he give her the information. Of course he would ignore her, but she would find some way to make him listen.
If Loyd refused to break his stubborn silence, there was always his brother, Simon. It was obvious Simon was in as deep as Loyd, considering his complicity in the drugging of her tea. If they refused to help, then she would find some way to use what they had done to her as leverage.
Turning from the end of the pier, Zara headed toward the diner she had seen when first arriving. It was late, but its lights were still on, so she was fairly confident it was open. She didn’t feel it would be wise to start asking the locals if they knew Chris Glandon. From what she had seen, Frederickport was a small town, and small towns often protected their own from outsiders. Instead she would hang out at some of the local establishments, and perhaps if she was lucky, she might hear something that would point her in the right direction.
She was about ten feet from the diner’s entrance when she noticed a woman coming her way. Zara paused for a moment, standing in the shadows, watching where the woman was headed—to the diner or the end of the pier. With the lighting, she couldn’t make out the woman’s face, but her figure’s silhouette reminded Zara of a Playboy Bunny. The woman turned to her left and headed to the entrance of Pier Café. Zara waited a minute before continuing on to the restaurant.
Ten minutes later Zara sat alone in a booth, a cup of coffee sitting on the table before her. It was only half full. In the next booth over was the woman who had entered the café a few minutes before her. The woman sat alone, looking through a menu. Zara watched as a waitress with streaks of blue and purple in her blond hair walked up to the woman’s booth to take her order.
Carla stepped up to the table, menu pad in hand. She eyed the woman and then asked, “Hey, aren’t you the new hostess over at Pearl Cove?”
The woman closed her menu and looked up. “Yeah. Did I wait on you there?”
Carla shrugged. “I haven’t been to Pearl Cove in ages. Too freaking pricy for me. But I’ve seen you around town. Someone mentioned you were working there. I used to hostess at Pearl Cove.”
The woman arched her brows. “Really? Hey, could you join me for a cup of coffee? Since I moved here, I haven’t had a chance to meet anyone aside from who comes in the restaurant, and it’s usually couples.”
“I know what you mean. Sure, I would love to join you. I’m due for a break anyway. You want me to put an order in for you first?”
“My name’s Mindi, Mindi Scholes,” the woman said after Carla joined her a few minutes later. Neither one was aware Zara, in the next booth, was hanging on their every word.
“I’m Carla. Carla Vann.”
“Nice to meet you, Carla. So how come you’re over here and aren’t working at Pearl Cove?”
Carla opened a packet of sugar and dumped it in her cup of coffee. “I was working here first and thought I’d get a side job and pick up some extra cash. But my schedule is always changing here—days—nights.” Carla opened another sugar packet. “It was just too freaking hard working both places. And frankly, I make more here waitressing.”
“You married?” Mindi asked.
Carla shook her head, took a sip of coffee, and then said, “No. You?”
“No.” Mindi sighed. “What’s with the guys in this town?”
“Tell me about it,” Carla groaned.
“A few of our regular customers are hot, but they always bring a date—or wife—with them.”
Carla fiddled with the rim of her coffee cup as she talked. “A while back I hooked up with a guy who wasn’t anything special to look at, but at least he would take me to decent restaurants. But he was married, so I shoulda known there was no future there.”
“What happened?”
Carla nodded toward the west side of the restaurant. “Fell off the pier. Drowned.”
Mindi gasped. “How did that happen?”
“Basically, his wife poisoned him. He had some reaction to food she gave him, and he fell off the pier and drowned. That happened a while back, but they just arrested her. A real nutcase. I’m just glad she didn’t come after me!”
“No kidding! Well, fortunately, some of the hot guys that’ve come in to the restaurant don’t seem to be married. I just haven’t figured out how to get them to leave their dates at home.”
Carla leaned back a moment in the booth and eyed Mindi up and down. “Honey, with a figure like yours, I don’t think you’d have a problem.”
Mindi grinned. “Thanks, you’re sweet.”
Carla leaned forward, setting her elbows on the table, and said, “So tell me. Who are some of these hot guys; maybe I know them.”
“I think the yummiest is this guy named Chris Johnson.” Mindi practically swooned when she said his name.
“Oh, I know Chris! He…umm…works over at the Glandon Foundation.”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard. What is that anyway?”
Carla shrugged. “I guess they give money away.”
“Give money away? Hey, I could use some!” Mindi laughed.
Carla giggled. “Yeah, you and me both. It’s some sort of charity thing.”
“Chris is super hot. But who’s the weirdo he hangs out with? Reminds me of a snotty version of Abby. You know, the character on NCIS.”
“Ahh…that would be Heather Donovan. In fact, both of them live on this street.”
“What’s the deal with those two?”
“I think Heather just works for him. I know he used to date Danielle Boatman, but they’re not dating anymore.”
“Danielle Boatman, she was in the restaurant tonight. I knew it was her, she’s been in a few times, but the reservation was under Walt Marlow’s name. He’s been in a couple of times too. Now, he’s another cutie. I wouldn’t mind his attention.”
“Both Chris and Walt are single. I’ll admit I’ve tried to get Chris’s attention, with no luck. And Walt—his fiancée was killed in a car accident about two months ago.”
“I don’t think Walt Marlow is single anymore.”
“Why do you say that?” Carla asked.
“Like I told you, he was in the restaurant tonight with Danielle Boatman.”
Carla shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything. Danielle owns Marlow House, it’s a bed and breakfast. It’s just down the street, that big ol’ Victorian. He’s a guest staying there, which is why they were probably out to dinner together.”
“Does Danielle Boatman kiss all her guests?” Mindi snickered.
Carla gasped. “Are you saying you saw them kissing?”
Mindi nodded. “Right there in their booth. I was about to suggest they get a room.”
Max greeted Walt and Danielle at the kitchen door. He weaved in and out between Danielle’s feet until she picked him up.
“He’s jealous,” Walt told her.
“Jealous?” Still holding the cat in her arms, she looked down at his white-tipped ears. He began to purr.
“Because you spent the evening out with me.”
“Are you going to tell him we’re getting married?” Danielle asked.
Walt looked to the cat in her arms and frowned. “I thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”
“Not from the animals, they won’t tell anyone.”
Walt arched his brow at Danielle. “Really? The minute Marie shows up, Max will blab to her. And you think Marie is going to keep quiet? She’ll tell Eva, and you know who Eva will tell?”
“Chris?” Danielle asked.
Walt nodded.
She let out a sigh and set Max on the kitchen floor. “You’re right. Let’s not tell the cat—or any of them.”
“It would probably be prudent.” Walt glanced at the kitchen clock. “It’s getting late. If we’re going to get up early and head to Astoria in the morning, we should probably call it a night.”
Danielle looked up mischievously at Walt. “We’re all alone in the house,” she whispered.
“Max might disagree with you.”
“I can take care of Max. I’ll lock him in Lily’s old room.” She grinned.
Walt pulled Danielle into his arms and kissed her nose before saying, “That won’t be necessary. I’m sleeping in my new bed tonight—and you’re sleeping in your room.”
Danielle frowned. “I am?”
Walt nodded. “For the next five nights, no spooning…no midnight chats in either of our beds.”
“Why not?”
Walt grinned. “Because the next time we share a bed, it will be on our wedding night.”
“I’m okay with waiting until our wedding night, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do what we’ve been doing.”
Walt let out a sigh and pulled her a little closer. “I don’t have a cast on anymore. Not that it wouldn’t have been possible with a cast—but seriously, if we’re going to wait until our wedding night, I think we need to sleep in our own beds—alone—until then.”
Danielle moved out of Walt’s arms and then took his hand and started pulling him toward the door leading to the hallway. “Okay, Walt, let’s get to bed so Monday will get here sooner.”
Walt chuckled and walked with Danielle, hand in hand, toward the staircase.
“When Monday does get here, where do you want to spend our wedding night?” Walt asked.
Danielle stopped a moment and looked up at him. “I don’t really want to go anywhere. I’d just like to come back here. Is that alright?”
Walt nodded. “I’d like that. Which room? The attic or your bedroom?”
“Gee, why not both?” Danielle said with a giggle before starting up the stairs.