For his part, he did fess up. “I did,” he admitted. “But I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by bringing it up.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised you know,” I admitted.
And I couldn’t. The reports that followed the solving of Chelsea Hannigan’s disappearance had made more than a passing mention of my relationship with Adam, even though we’d tried to play it down for the sake of privacy. I had a feeling Stowe knew quite a bit about me, more than he was saying, as well as all the other players who’d played a part in the Harbour Falls Mystery.
“Should I have said something?” he asked.
“No, no.” I shrugged it off. “It’s fine.”
I toyed with the edge of a petal. When I dropped my hand, Stowe lifted the vase. He held the roses out to me. “Hey, can we start this whole thing over?”
I nodded, and in a formal voice, he said, “Ms. Fitch, will you accept these flowers”—he paused meaningfully and his green eyes held mine—“as a gesture of purely noble intentions.”
I took the vase, smiling. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
Stowe had not dropped his gaze, and I looked at him expectantly. “What?”
He sighed. “I have to be honest. My intentions may not be entirely noble. You’re an attractive woman, Maddy, and normally friendship wouldn’t be enough for me. But I respect your current…situation.”
“Thank you,” I replied quietly.
Oddly, our exchange seemed to have loosened any lingering tension. Stowe opened the wine and we both had a glass before the lasagna was ready. When we did sit down to eat at the big table in the kitchen, the conversation flowed easily. Not a surprise since the topics remained light.
Halfway through dinner Stowe picked up the Siamese kitten salt and pepper shakers and pried them apart. He raised a questioning eyebrow, and I snickered. “They’re not mine. They belong to Mrs. Heider, the woman who owns this place.”
“A cat lady, I presume,” he said, his eyes sweeping the cat-themed kitchen.
“I haven’t seen any real ones around, but based on her decorating tastes, I’d say your presumption is correct.”
Stowe shot me a feigned look of horror. “Oh no, does that mean this theme extends to all the other rooms, as well?”
I laughed. “No, thank God. The rest of the rooms are fairly normal, maybe a little frilly, but they do have a nice homey feel. I guess she just went wild with this room for some reason.”
“Must have been the shakers,” he said, setting them down with exaggerated care. “I can see where they’d be an inspiration all their own.”
Dinner continued, and when we finished Stowe insisted on helping me clear the table. I rinsed the dishes, and he loaded them into the dishwasher. Eventually, we sat back down to finish up the rest of the wine, and to talk.
Stowe spoke again of how he’d moved up from Florida for work, and like me he was only renting the house next door. Apart from that single reference, however, he spoke very little about his job, which seemed odd since his work was supposedly the reason he was here in Harbour Falls. Every time I tried to pry some detail out of him, he’d segue to another subject, insisting the specifics of his job were really quite boring.
I did recall Stowe saying the night we’d met that he was doing some kind of a small-town study. So I asked if he worked for a company that redeveloped small towns, made them viable once again. I’d heard of stuff like that, kind of like urban redevelopment, but for tiny, dying towns instead of big cities.
I said, “So, ultimately, you make places better?”
Stowe chuckled and said, “Yeah, something like that.” And then he looked away.
Okay, I get the hint. His evasiveness seemed shady, but who was I to question the guy? I certainly had a number of secrets of my own. I smoothly changed the subject, but unfortunately it somehow led to the topic of the Harbour Falls Mystery. And for someone who had no connection to Harbour Falls, Stowe sure perked up when talk turned to Chelsea Hannigan.
“So you never knew her personally?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. “I used to see her around from time to time way back when, but I never actually met her.”
“Fascinating that you didn’t know Chelsea yet took such an interest in the case,” he mused.
“Well, Harbour Falls is my hometown,” I reminded him. “And I originally planned to write about the case.”
Stowe refilled my wine glass. “What made you change your mind?”
“Uh…” I frowned. “Just…lots of things.”
He leaned back in the chair, the corner of his mouth turning up. “I bet Adam Ward played a part in that decision.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond—or if I even should—so I didn’t. Stowe seemed as if he was familiar with Adam, more so than just from watching television coverage. Maybe their paths had crossed. Adam spent a lot of time over here now that he had his Harbour Falls office, so he and Stowe could have very easily made one another’s acquaintance over the past month or so.
The wine was empty, and all the talk of the mystery…of Adam…had brought on a kind of melancholy mood. I yawned, and Stowe, thankfully catching the hint, said, “I should probably get going.”
I walked him to the door, and he thanked me for a great evening of dinner and conversation. It was a clear night out, still on the mild side, so I stepped out onto the porch with my guest. “Such a beautiful night,” he said as he walked down the steps and turned to cut across the lawn.
“It is,” I agreed, though it was still chilly enough to prompt me to cross my arms across my chest and shiver a bit since the silk blouse I was wearing was rather thin.
Just as Stowe reached his porch,
