Her phone was ringing and the next shift was arriving and she was practically shoving him out the door now. He felt as if he’d been caught in a whirlwind and before he knew it, he was outside the station facing his rental car, a red Jeep that had caught every pothole between here and Anchorage.
It was still not quite nine in the morning, but the blazing sunshine made it seem like high noon. He squinted and shaded his eyes, dazzled by the brilliant light bouncing off the cars in the parking lot. Everything—the blue spruce trees beyond the lot, the wild profusion of sunny buttercups at their feet--felt freshly washed and crystal clean.
He tried to catch up to what had just happened.
So wait … he was going to stay at the place that made the scones Jessica had brought? Did that mean she was going to be there too? How did he feel about that? He felt some kind of way, but he couldn’t pin it down.
His phone rang, making him start. A little knot of dread formed in his stomach. It was probably Charley, checking to see if he’d made it safely to Lost Harbor.
But it was his sister Olivia instead. He chose not to examine the sense of relief that came over him, and answered the call.
“Hey Liv, I can’t talk now, I just got out of jail and I have to check into my bed-and-breakfast.”
“Wait…what? Are you okay?”
“I’m grrrrreat.”
“You sound drunk.”
“Not drunk. Just excited to be a free man again.”
“Are you talking about your imprisonment or did you break up with Charley?”
He also chose not to examine the hopeful tone in her voice. “Of course not. I don’t break my commitments. Shame on you.”
He clicked his key fob and got into the Jeep. He did a quick check to make sure his stuff was still there—laptop, overnight bag. Nothing had been disturbed by Sergeant Santa. At least something had gone right.
“Ethan, be serious. Seems like ever since the…you know...the incident…”
“The near-drowning.”
“Yes.” He could practically hear the wince in her voice. Olivia was used to the medical crises that involved his leg, but nearly getting drowned was a very different story. She’d been phone-hovering ever since. “You’ve been acting strange since then. Not yourself.”
“That’s because I’m a new man.” He put the phone on speaker and started the car. He didn’t bother to route it through the sound system. “I told you what happened. I had a vision.”
“I know you said that, but is it really a reason to change every single thing about your life?”
“You’re so dramatic. Jesus. Look, Liv, dying made me rethink my life.”
“Stop saying that!” his sister exclaimed. “You weren’t really dead.”
“They told me I was dead for a whole minute. What do I know? I didn’t think I was dead either. I thought I was getting married. Then I woke up and saw Charley.”
He’d proposed to her with saline dripping into his veins and oxygen cannulas in his nose. He’d been a little shocked when she’d accepted.
“You weren’t yourself. That was the worst possible time to make such a drastic decision.”
“It’s done. There’s no going back. Besides, we’re very compatible.”
“Aside from her hating your job.”
“My old job.”
“Stop saying—maybe we should talk about all this another time.” Olivia obviously didn’t want to fight. He didn’t either. He and his sister were very close; or at least they had been until she’d left the James Agency to go fall in love with Jake Rockwell. He and Olivia had always stuck up for each other. But Olivia’s dislike of Charley might be a problem.
“I don’t need to talk about it. I’m getting married to Charley and you’re going to be my best man and there’s nothing else to say. I’m getting off the phone now. I don’t want to get arrested again. Once a day is enough for me.”
“You know I’m going to need the whole story soon, right? Are you starving? Did they at least feed you in jail?”
“Someone showed up with the most incredible cherry scones you’ve ever tasted. Like an angel from bakery heaven.”
“Someone?”
He recognized that hopeful tone of voice. “Someone who bakes,” he said severely. “Don’t go getting any ridiculous ideas. I don’t know what your problem is with Charley, and I don’t want to know.”
“Are you sure? Because—“
“I’m sure. This is happening, Liv. As soon as I get back to LA, we’re doing it. She’s planning the whole thing right now.”
“Of course she is,” muttered Olivia. “Okay, I’ll shut up now. I suppose I’m just annoyed because she made you give up the James Agency.”
“Don’t want to hear it!”
“The agency I started—“
“Olivia James Rockwell. Stop it.”
“The agency you love, the job you love—“
He ended the call with his thumb and tossed the phone in the backseat. Sure, it had hurt to announce that the James Agency was closing. He didn’t really look forward to shifting into tech work. But he was good at it, and it was a safer kind of profession. And it would make Charley happy.
He drove out of the police station lot, after a quick glance at the voucher Maya had given him. Sweet Harbor Bakery and B&B, located on Beach Drive, which he knew ran along gorgeous Seafarer’s Beach. It probably had a spectacular view, since every place in Lost Harbor did. But right now, he didn’t care if it looked out on the town dump. As long as it had a bed and a shower, he’d be a happy former jailbird.
A sarcastic Asian girl with blue-streaked hair checked him in at the counter of the Sweet Harbor Bakery. She rattled off instructions in between setting out fresh croissants and serving quad shots to a group of tourists. All the guest rooms were on the second floor. His room was the one facing the ocean. He could enjoy breakfast any time after seven in the morning, and oh, by the way, the water heater was broken. She handed over a key with a fob shaped like a cupcake.
“Wait. What was that last part? About the heater?”
“Water heater. It’s broken.”
“No hot showers?”
“You must be a detective or something. Correct.”
God damn it. Why was everything going wrong on this trip?
“Is someone working on it? Is the problem going to be fixed any time soon?”
“The owner is working on it right now. But if it’s urgent—“
In his opinion, showering after a night in jail was an urgent need, but he didn’t want to make a scene. Especially because Sweet Harbor Bakery was like a gingerbread house come to life and it smelled like a sugar factory.
“It’s all right. I’ll wait.”
“You sure?” She leaned forward and took a whiff of the air near him. “Just saying. You smell like you had a fun night.”
“Oh yeah, it was quite the party. One for the history books. Or at least the police blotter.”
She laughed, with no idea that he wasn’t joking. “I hope I can still party when I’m your age.”