It was a beautiful morning. Gulls wheeled overhead, bright white against the blue sky, and the breeze off the water was salty and fresh.
Not long after Denise and Bethany had come to see me, the police had finally showed up to take a statement from me. They'd even returned my cell phone after taking prints and downloading a recording of the conversation between Scooter and Agatha. I didn't have a piece of paper documenting the sale of the property to Loretta—yet—but I at least had a verbal confession that Agatha had signed the shop over to her sister before I bought it. Plus, the police had assured me they'd be charging Agatha with accessory to attempted murder, or something like that, and potentially fraud as well. I didn't know what all that meant for the shop's future, but with Scooter in jail and Agatha most likely on her way, I was hoping not to have to worry about that for a bit.
I had enough on my plate as it was.
As I walked, the phone rang. I glanced down; it was Caroline.
"Hi, sweetie."
"I just got off the phone with Dad," she said. "Is it true you saved Kirsten's life?"
"It is," I said.
"And somebody tied you up and was going to burn you and the shop up? I thought Boston was scary, but I'm worried about where you're living now!"
"It was a one-time deal," I said. "I'm fine."
She was quiet for a moment.
"It's good to hear from you," I said quietly.
"I've... I've missed you," she said.
"I've missed you too," I told her gently.
"Can I maybe come up and see the shop?" she asked. "I can stay with grandma if it's easier; I know you don't have a lot of room."
"I'd love for you to stay with me—there's always room for you—but stay wherever you feel most comfortable. I'd be delighted to see you and show you around."
"All right." She paused. "This weekend, maybe?"
"That would be wonderful, sweetheart," I said.
"Shoot... I've got another call, but I'll plan to drive up Friday. I'll let you know what I decide about where to stay. Okay?"
"Got it," I said. "I'll even make your favorite cookie bars."
"The ones with toffee and chocolate chips?"
"The ones with toffee and chocolate chips."
"You're the best, Mom. Love you."
"I love you too," she said, and hung up. My heart swelled with love and relief.
As I put my phone in my pocket and refocused on the glistening rocks on the ground at my feet, Winston tugged at the leash. I looked up; a familiar form was walking toward me.
Nicholas.
"Hey," I said as he walked closer. He was so handsome... even more so than when we were kids. My heart pounded, and all of a sudden I felt like I was thirteen all over again, about to try to talk to my crush.
"I heard you had an exciting day yesterday," he said. "You okay?"
"Just a few bumps and bruises," I said, feeling self-conscious about my less-than-manicured state.
"Looks like more than bumps and bruises," he said, pointing to my bandaged arm. "That looks nasty."
"A few stitches, but it'll be fine," I said. "And at least I don't have to worry about the shop."
"Why not?"
I gave him the CliffsNotes version of what had happened yesterday.
"Sheesh. So Agatha was working with Scooter to try to defraud you," he said. "Scooter Dempsey always was a jerk. I just didn't know how low he'd stoop."
"You didn't know that twenty-five years ago?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I did," he said. "But... I'm sorry I believed what he said about you. I should have been a better judge of character; I knew Scooter wasn't always honest, but it just... well, I was wrong."
"Thanks," I said as Winston sniffed at his khaki pants. He bent and scratched the fluffy little dog's head, and Winston leaned into him. "Water under the bridge, right?"
"Maybe, but I still want to apologize. Can I take you to dinner to make it up to you? At least partially?" The sun glinted in his hair as he looked up at me, and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. "You still like fried clams?"
"I love them," I said.
"If you're free tomorrow night, I'll take you to Chart House. And I know you've got a confession recorded, but we should look for that document."
"You're right. Bethany and I found an old radio in the cellar the other day," I said, "hidden behind a rock. And a penny dating from before 1920."
"Aha! More evidence of rum runners."
"That's what I thought. Originally, I wondered if the folks breaking in might be after a treasure map or something, but it turned out it was just Agatha and Scooter."
"Still. Maybe there's a stash down there after all," he said. "Loretta's grandfather had to do something with all his ill-gotten gains; he sure didn't spend it on a mansion." He glanced at his watch. "If you've got some time before the store opens, I'd love to see that radio. There are a lot of stories about that place, you know."
"Sure! I just made cookies; you want one?"
“Of course," he said. Together, we turned and headed back to Seaside Cottage Books, Winston prancing happily ahead of us, glancing over his shoulder from time to time to check on us. The scent of the beach roses drifted through the air, and the sight of the little store with its sparkling windows—plus the presence of my teenage crush just a few feet beside me—made me feel like breaking into song. Which, thankfully, I didn't.
It was turning out to be a perfect day. Thank goodness everything had settled down at the store, I thought as we walked next to each other down the beach.
But trouble was already brewing
