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“Oh, we get Looky Lou’s all the time. Never amounts to a thing. Funny fellow with big glasses was in the office when Jason was away. Biggest brown eyes I ever saw. Wanted to know about the beach. It’s sand. What more could I say?” She croaked a laugh at her own joke.
So Wainwright Inc. had sent someone to check things out. It was strange Dylan was doing on-site research these days.
Piper realized Jason’s blue eyes were on her. A smear of sauce dotted his cheek.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Not really. I just wondered if a corporation was already interested. I didn’t see a hotel in town—”
“Exactly what I’ve been telling the council,” Jason exclaimed. “The no-tell motel is hardly the kind of place we want to showcase, though it’s clean enough. But Bart doesn’t think there’s any point in painting or modernizing the place, especially since business has been so slow. If he heard he’d have some competition, I imagine he’d sink some cash into his outfit pronto.”
“So nobody’s talked to you about building a hotel?” Piper had hoped for nonchalance but knew it hadn’t quite come off when Jason’s curious stare stayed on her. He couldn’t know why she was asking, could he?
“To me personally? No.” He turned toward the older woman. “Ida, you didn’t get the name of this man, did you?”
Ida set down her fork, her forehead wrinkled.
“He gave one. I just don’t remember what it was. Young fellow, really friendly. I might have written it down. I’ll check on Tuesday.” Her scrutiny shifted to Piper, grew more intense. “Why are you so interested in this guy?” she asked.
“If he was scouting locations, I’d like to talk to him,” she ad-libbed. “Maybe the town can dangle a carrot that would encourage someone to build.”
“We don’t have much to dangle,” Ida mumbled, her face skeptical. She forgot the subject they’d been discussing, until later when Piper was drying dishes beside her.
“You know who was here snooping around don’t you?”
“I could guess. I have a few feelers out with friends who suggested a company but I’ll have to do more checking.” She kept her attention on the glass she was drying.
“He kept asking about bylaws to do with the beach. You think someone wants to put a hotel right on it—like in Hawaii?” Ida swished the suds down the drain, then hung her dishcloth over the sink. “That might not be a bad idea.”
Piper set down the last dry dish, searching for a way to express her concern.
“It could work, with a lot of input from the town council. But we don’t want such a beautiful beach to be ruined.”
“By pollution, you mean?” Ida shrugged. “I’m sure the government has lots of laws to control that sort of thing.”
“Not just pollution. The wholesome atmosphere of the town has to be protected if we want to attract families. We don’t want a bar near little kids playing in the sand.”
“Goes without saying.” Apparently her explanation satisfied Ida, who then busied herself filling the coffee decanter with water. “Stays light longer now. Would you like to join us outside and watch the stars come out?”
“They are beautiful, but don’t make any coffee for me. Thanks, Ida. I have to be going. I sailed over and I need to get back before dark.”
“Harold and I probably shouldn’t be drinking coffee before bed, anyway. Harold always dreams.” Ida pulled open the fridge and took out a jug of red juice. “Can I interest you in some cranberry juice? Made it myself.”
“Could I try it another time?” Piper glanced at her watch, unwilling to believe the time on the kitchen clock was correct.
“You’re welcome anytime. Bring Jason with you. He says he likes his own cooking, but he doesn’t cook much. Gets most of his nourishment from those cinnamon buns he buys at the farmers’ market. I try to fatten him up.”
If Piper was any judge, the fattening up would take a while. Jason Franklin didn’t have a spare ounce on him. Rather, he had a polished, muscular look that made her think of a jaguar. From the state of his sneakers, she suspected he jogged to stay in shape. No wonder he could eat cinnamon buns whenever he wanted.
“Thank you very much for dinner. It was so delicious, I won’t have to think about another meal for days. And if you ever want to let me in on your secret rib recipe…” Piper let the sentence trail away when Ida shook her head firmly.
“Can’t do that, but you’re welcome to share them anytime.”
“Thank you. And you and Harold are always welcome at Cathcart House.”
The dock was only a few minutes’ walk from Ida’s, but Jason insisted on driving Piper.
“I would have walked here with you, but I wanted to drop off Harold’s motor.” He hoisted the machine out of his truck bed and stood it against the workshop where Ida’s husband waited beside the birdhouses he’d carved from driftwood.
They thanked the couple for the meal, wishing them good-night before riding back to the marina. Silence stretched awkwardly between them. Piper couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Are you going to be able to get back safely?” Jason asked as he unfastened her boat from its moorings.
The evening had grown cool and Piper tugged her coat from its hiding place in the hatch of the sailboat. “Oh, yes. I’ll be fine.”
Jason scanned the sky.
“There’s a storm blowing in,” he told her. “You could get swamped.”
She tried to explain that she’d been sailing many times, and had handled her fair share of rough weather, but he refused to listen.
“I’ll tie your boat behind mine. I’ve got an inboard that can weather anything. It won’t take long to zip across the lake. Besides, I’ll feel a whole lot better if I know for certain that you’re home, dry and safe. The lake water is too cold to capsize in.”
She couldn’t talk him out of it, and so a few moments later Piper found herself seated beside him in his boat, watching the familiar coastline fly past. Truthfully she enjoyed the feeling of knowing someone cared. It had been a long time. Another thing she’d prayed about and it was still unanswered. Did God want her to remain single?
Jason asked her questions about her meeting with the guild and she told him some of what she’d learned and how she intended to use it.
He was obsessive, about the town at least. Well, maybe she could use that to her advantage.
They arrived in her little cove twenty minutes later, just as the last flicker of light sank behind the jagged cliffs of Paradise Peak. As she peered up through the gloom, Piper could see little of the familiar landmarks because the dock lights hadn’t come on.
“Will you come up for some coffee?” she invited, once her sailboat was secured.
“Only if you make it hot chocolate,” Jason said. “After Ida’s high-octane sauce, my stomach will go into convulsions if I add coffee.”
“Sure.” Funny that his agreement brought such a flush of relief. She’d never worried about coming back late before. Piper led him off the dock and up the path to her home.
“You need some automatic lights. With all the clouds, it’s quite dark along here. The trees keep out the moonlight.”
She was suddenly aware of why she’d felt so uneasy. It wasn’t just the dock lights that were out. There were no lights along here, either.
His hand grazed her shoulder.
“Piper? What’s wrong?”
“I do have lights.” She looked up, pointed. “There’s one.”
“Well, it’s not working.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I’d noticed. Thanks.”
He grinned, then glanced around. “Looks like they’re all out. What do you suppose happened to them?”
“I have no idea. Fortunately, I’m very familiar with this path.” She turned and began striding along, confidence growing with each step she took. The next moment she was on her knees. “Ow!”
What was the willow chair her grandmother had always kept on the porch doing here?
“Whoa!” He was there, grasping her arm, helping her stand, his grip strong, reassuring. “What happened?”
“My pride just took a beating.” She brushed her palms against her legs, feeling the prick of pebbles that had dug into her skin.
“Maybe I should lead.” He lifted the chair out of the way.
“You’ve been here before?” she asked, staring at him.
“Good point. You lead, I’ll follow. Just go a little slower, okay?”
“Right.” Embarrassed, she picked her way up the path, her mind busy with the light question. “Maybe a breaker’s flipped or something.”
“Maybe.”
When she stumbled again, he took her hand, his warm, strong fingers threading through hers. “Let’s just go slowly, make sure we don’t happen over anything else.”
At that moment the moon slipped out from between two black clouds and provided just enough light for her to see a shape move through the brush.
“Do you see him?” she whispered.
“Who?” He glanced at her. “I can’t really see anything.”
Then moonlight was gone. So was the shadow. Maybe she’d imagined it. Piper shook her head.
“Never mind. It’s not far to the house now. This leads to the garden. Once we’re past these roses, we take two steps up onto the deck.” Her eyes were adjusting now, discerning familiar landmarks. “See? There’s the arch into the garden.”
He probably didn’t need her directing him, but she did it anyway until finally they stood before her door.
“Now if I can just get the key inside.” She slid it into the lock and twisted, unlocking the door and pushing it open. With one flick of her wrist the house entry and deck were illuminated. “Come on in.”
She turned on lights as she walked into the house. Thank goodness she’d cleaned up the kitchen this morning.
“So all the power’s not out. Just those lights.” He raised one eyebrow. “Where’s the breaker box? I’ll check it, if you want.”
“Thanks.” Piper showed him the panel in the basement, then left him, intending to return to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Halfway up the basement stairs she stopped, taking a second look.
The old wicker furniture her grandparents had replaced several years ago still sat down here because Piper had hopes of locating someone who would recane the seats and backs. But the furniture had recently been moved, and not by her.
Someone had been in her house.
“The breaker was off, all right.” Jason slapped the metal door closed. “If you’ve got a timer, you’ll have to reset.” He stopped speaking, looked at her more closely. “Something else isn’t right?”
“I’m not sure.” She went back down the stairs, stepped between the two love seats and stared at the thick wooden door she always kept locked. When she tried to open it, the dead bolt held, but she could see faint marks on the wood where it looked as if someone had pried a screwdriver. Had it been done tonight?
“Where does that door lead to? A secret tunnel?”
“Kind of. I told you my grandfather was a goldsmith, didn’t I? Well, he kept a workshop here after he retired.” She saw the interest flare in his eyes and hurried on. “I’ve been catching up on what he taught me. Because of the chemicals we use, he always insisted his work area be kept hidden and locked up. I’m the same way.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It is.” Piper didn’t want to say any more right now. She wanted to think about whether someone could have gone through her house, and why. “Thanks for fixing the breaker. It’ll be nice to have lights again.”
“Yes.” He kept looking at her, though he said nothing more. He didn’t have to; that stare sent a funny kind of zing up her spine.
“Let’s go have that hot chocolate,” she murmured, tearing her gaze away.
“Sure.”
Jason followed her up the stairs to the kitchen and perched on one of the breakfast stools, watching as she put the ingredients together.
“Are you telling me that you are a goldsmith, also?” he asked when the silence between them had stretched to discomfort.
“No. I just putter at it. Gifts for friends, things like that.” She held out a mug. “Would you rather sit outside? There’s a space where we’ll be protected if it rains. We could watch the storm, though I’m sure it will only be a tiny one. The wind isn’t blowing hard anymore.”
“Outside sounds fine.”
Before she could lead the way, the phone rang.
“Hey, there. I tried you earlier, but no answer. Were you out on a hot date with the mayor?”
“Um, I’ll have to call you back, Ash. I’ve got company right now.”
“So I was right! Rowena owes me ten bucks.”
“Lucky you. Bye now.”
Knowing full well that her friend would immediately call Row and the two of them would discuss her visitor made Piper uncomfortable, especially with the subject of their conversation so near.
“Sorry, that was a friend of mine.” She pushed open the door. “You didn’t have to come over here with me. The sailboat does have a motor.”
“I’m glad I came. I was curious to see where you lived.” He followed her through the French doors and sank down onto the chair nearest hers. “It’s a beautiful view.”
She tried to see the garden through his eyes. Her grandmother had ordered small, shielded lights installed high up which cast a wash of illumination over her favorite gnarled oak trees. Accent lights hidden by boulders would soon show off the glorious blues of delphiniums, bright-red poppies and candy-pink carnations. Buried in the beds of the soon-to-be fragrant and colorful rose garden were soft, romantic lights, and along the path oversize mushroom lights showed the next step on the path down to the lake.
“Sitting up here, it feels as if the world is far away. It must be a wonderful place to come home to.”
“I never get tired of it.” Piper wished he could see it on a summer day when Cathcart House was at its best. “Every day I thank my grandparents for leaving this to me.”
“How did they die?”
“They moved to Toronto when Papa’s heart needed an operation. But he was too frail to recover. They died within months of each other.”
