“By all means, go. I’m leaving myself.”
She didn’t have to urge him twice.
Only Charley, who was doing a final circuit of the room and collecting a few stray candy wrappers, remained.
“Another productive meeting, Marci.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe how fast all of this is coming together.”
“You can claim the lion’s share of the credit for that.”
“I think it had more to do with the fact that the threat to Pelican Point was imminent.”
“Could be. It seems sometimes we have to almost lose a blessing before we realize its value.” He deposited the discarded items in the trash can. “Why don’t I walk you to your car? Safety in numbers and all that.”
She slung her purse over her shoulder and squinted at him. Had Ben told Charley about the situation with Nicole?
“I never worry much about being safe in downtown Hope Harbor.” She watched the man for a clue.
“I don’t either. It’s a special place. Other than that vandalism spree a year ago, trouble’s bypassed us for the most part.” His amiable tone and placid expression didn’t suggest he knew anything about the unwelcome woman who’d invaded their town. “But I’m leaving too. Why not walk out together?”
“Works for me.” She picked up her files, and he fell in behind her as she exited the room and walked toward the front door of Grace Christian’s fellowship hall.
Once she secured the lock, she turned to find Charley doing a sweep of the parking lot and the adjacent road. When his eyes narrowed, she gave the area a quick scan too.
As far as she could tell, no one else was around. Nor did she see anything to cause concern.
When she looked back at him, his usual pleasant countenance was back.
“After you.” He motioned toward their cars, which were parked side by side.
“Your mother—or father—taught you excellent manners.”
“Grandmother, actually. And yes, my abuela did instruct me in the finer points of etiquette. We were dirt poor, but wealth doesn’t make a lady. Character does. And she had it to spare.”
Marci studied him.
In all their conversations during the two years she’d been in town, he’d never mentioned his childhood in Mexico.
Strange that he would offer a peek into his past now.
He waited while she got into her car, then touched the brim of his Ducks cap and took a step back. “Drive safe. Stop by for some tacos soon.”
“That’s my lunch plan for tomorrow, if you’re cooking.”
“If you’re coming, I’m cooking.” He winked and circled around her trunk to his own vehicle.
Her thoughts already on the phone call she was going to make to Ben once she arrived home, she put the key in the ignition and turned it.
Dead silence.
She frowned and tried again.
Zilch.
Was it possible she had a dead battery?
But how could that be? She’d replaced it days before she’d set off on the cross-county drive west to become a permanent Hope Harbor resident.
She twisted the key with more force.
Nothing.
Apparently her five-year battery had decided to give up the ghost three years early.
Of all the inconvenient times for this to happen.
With a huff, she peered at Charley through the darkness. He glanced toward her . . . got back out of his car . . . and circled around her Civic again as she opened her door.
“Car problems?” He leaned down.
“It won’t start. I think the battery’s dead. You don’t happen to have any jumper cables, do you?”
“No. Sorry. And Marv’s is closed for the night.”
“I thought he ran a body shop.”
“Also a garage. He has a magic touch with engines. Why don’t I give you a lift home, and he can come by the lot tomorrow morning and jump it for you.”
“I don’t want to take you out of your way.”
“You won’t. I have to pass by Pelican Point Road to get home.”
That’s right. His house and studio were north of town, on the coast.
“Well . . . if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Not in the least. I’ll treat you to a ride in a genuine classic.”
She eyed Charley’s 1957 silver Thunderbird, its white top gleaming in the moonlight. His vehicle was almost a town landmark itself. Unlike the lighthouse, however, it was in pristine condition.
“I don’t think I’ve ever ridden in a car this old.” She followed him around the trunk and waited while he opened the passenger door for her with a flourish.
“Not old. Timeless. Wouldn’t want Bessie here to take offense.” He patted the fender.
“Sorry. No insult intended.” She slid onto the roomy seat.
He closed the door and joined her a few moments later. The engine purred to life as he turned the key.
“Sounds like she’s in tip-top condition.”
“She is. But when I bought her, she was a mess. I spent two years restoring her. As with most things—and most people—though, a generous application of TLC worked wonders.”
The conversation shifted to gardening as they made the short drive to her house, and Charley surprised her yet again with his breadth of knowledge on the subject.
“Is there anything you don’t know about?” She shot him a teasing look as he pulled into her driveway.
“Algebra, for one. It baffles me. I’ll get your door.”
She let him. It seemed appropriate after sharing a ride in a stylish car like this with such a chivalrous driver.
Not only did he open her door, he walked her to the porch.
“Thanks again, Charley.”
“Would you like me to give you a lift back to your car in the morning? I could open the taco stand a little early.”
“No. I’ve already put you to enough trouble. I’ll ask Marv to come get me when I call him about the battery—or phone someone else.”
“I doubt Ben would mind swinging by.”
He might—given the woman who was lurking in the shadows.
“I’ll keep that as an option. I’m going to call him tonight anyway to give him an update on our meeting.”
“Sounds like a plan. Enjoy
