“Good memory.”
“It’s a curse. I never forget a face, and with the faces I see in this place…” She gestured at the motley crew of weatherbeaten fishermen holding down the stools at the other end of the bar, “that’s unfortunate. Anyway, I’m Toni, just holler if you need a refill.”
He nodded and relaxed with his drink. The Olde Salt sat nearly at the end of the boardwalk, the long curving arm of the harbor filled with shops and restaurants that were open only in the summer. Most of them were shack-like storefronts, some on stilts planted in the mudflats below. But the Olde Salt had been built nearly a century ago, the oldest surviving structure around. With its weathered cedar siding and foundation sinking unevenly with the frost heaves, it looked every one of its eighty years.
Inside, very little light filtered through the small windows, which were darkened by years of smoke. Old ships’ lanterns hung from the low ceilings, occasionally bonking someone on the head if they stood up without looking. Vintage newspaper articles and sepia pioneer-era photos decorated the walls. He could just imagine the stories that had been told here over the years.
Old Crow, freshly showered and barely recognizable, waved at him from one of the tables, where he was playing chess with another elderly local.
Ethan signaled to Toni, and ordered Old Crow another of whatever he was drinking.
“Don’t bother,” she told him. “He hasn’t paid for a drink here in twenty years. It’s like a tourist attraction to buy Old Crow a drink.”
He chuckled at that. Apparently he’d gotten his own private viewing of one of Lost Harbor’s tourist attractions. Yes another thing he’d rather forget about today.
He swung around on the stool, facing the tables, and rested his elbows on the slightly sticky bar top. Might as well take in the local color while he had the chance. He planned to be hard at work on this case by six am tomorrow morning. The quicker he wrapped it up, the sooner he could fly back to LA and sort out things with Charley.
His stomach knotted at the thought. He had to find a way to communicate better with his future wife. He didn’t know much about marriage, but he was fairly sure communication was important. Olivia and Jake didn’t always agree, but they knew how to work things out. Then again, they were madly in love. He and Charley were more…practical.
The door of the Olde Salt opened, spilling a brief splash of light across the floor. A woman stood in the doorway, her curvy body backlit by the setting sun, outlining her figure in golden light. He blinked at the sight. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
And then the door slammed shut—it was an oak door with fancy forged hinges, heavy as hell—and Jessica Dixon from Sweet Harbor hurried toward the bar. He watched her approach, bemused by the fact that she seemed to be everywhere. One day in Lost Harbor, and he’d now seen her what, five or six times?
She’d changed into long buckled boots and tight jeans, with a fuzzy angora conductor’s hat perched on her head. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and several pendants and necklace chains adorned her neck.
She didn’t wait for her eyes to adjust to the relative darkness inside the saloon. In her headlong rush to the bar, she didn’t seem to notice him at first.
“Toni.” She cupped her hands together to project over the noise of the bar. “I have to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
But Toni was all the way at the other end of the bar, serving a crowd of excited charter boat passengers. She waved at Jessica, clearly unable to hear her.
“Mother-fu—“ Jessica caught herself, finally glancing around her and noticing Ethan. “Mother fun day is tomorrow,” she finished with a sweet smile. “Just planning how to celebrate.”
“Mother fun day is an important day,” he said gravely. “It’s one of the best holidays, almost as good as Groundhog Day.”
She rolled her eyes at him and plopped her butt onto the stool next to him. “So you made it to Happy Hour.”
“I missed Happy Hour, but it’s okay, I got here in plenty of time for the rest of them. You know, the more miserable ones. To go with the rest of the day.”
She glanced at his fizzy soda. “What are you drinking? Looks delicious.”
“A very masculine cherry soda.”
“Right, you said that you don’t drink. I won’t either, then.” She lowered her voice to a confidential murmur. “Toni always makes me try the most disgusting bottles, things that probably came from some shipwreck or something. This is the perfect excuse to take a pass.”
“Happy to help out.” He took a sip and noticed new lines of stress on her face since the last time he’d seen her at the B&B. “Everything okay?”
“Well, not entirely. I wanted to tell Toni first, but I might as well start with you. Maya’s father has to have heart surgery, so she’s on her way to Anchorage right now. She wanted me to tell you that she has to cancel the job.”
He cocked his head, certain that he’d heard that wrong. “Say what again?”
“The job, the search for S.G.’s family, it’s going to have to wait. You’re free. You can go back to LA. She said to send her an invoice.”
Back to LA? Already? An empty feeling stole over him. It didn’t feel right, canceling the investigation. His head was already in it. He had questions, he had lines of investigation to pursue. He was interested.
Face it. He didn’t want to go back yet.
Jessica was watching him curiously, her eyes the color of whisky in the low light. “I thought you’d be thrilled at this news. You didn’t seem to be enjoying your time here in Lost Harbor.”
“It’s had its challenges,” he admitted. “But I don’t like walking away from a job. How long does Maya think she’ll be in Anchorage?” Maybe he could take a few days to do some fishing here. A vacation. He’d told Charley he’d be gone for a week, after all.
“She doesn’t know, obviously. But even after the surgery, she’s going to have her hands full taking care of Harris.” She shook her head sadly. “I really hope that goes well. Maya has no patience for being sick. She’s never called in sick at the station in her entire career.”
“Heart surgery is a little past ‘sick,’” he pointed out.
“That’s true. And we’re talking about Harris Badger, and she’d do anything for him. Anyway, the point is, the case is closed, at least for now. At least…”
She hesitated, eyeing him sideways.
“What?”
“I had an idea. I wanted to talk to Toni about it first, but…”
Uh oh. Jessica seemed like someone whose ideas could easily lead to trouble. Case in point, her “prank” involving Old Crow and the shower.
Though with time, he could now see that it was pretty funny.
He sighed. “Go ahead. What’s your idea and does it involve me getting drenched or jailed?”
She screwed up her face and looked up at the ceiling. “I hope not?”
That made him laugh. “Okay, let’s hear it. What are you thinking?”
“Just promise me you won’t say ‘no’ right off the bat.” She rushed ahead before he could answer that. “Never mind, you probably will say no, but maybe you’ll think about it and that ‘no’ will magically transform into a ‘what a fabulous idea, Jess, let’s do it.’”