I said, ‘Better than most folks. You can tell a lot about people by the mail they get!’ She laughed at that, and then she said, all airy-fairy-like, ‘Can you tell me anything about a man called Malcolm Lockhart—I believe he used to live at Holly Cottage, on the river?’ And the minute she said Malcolm Lockhart, my ears went on red alert. Well, Angel, we all know that story…and the first thing I think of is, is she a reporter? Has she come to poke around and do a write-up? After all, it’s coming up to thirty years since the scandal and—”
“What else—” Gabe’s voice was harsh “—did she ask?”
“That was it. As soon as I figured she was snooping, I closed up tighter than a bank on Sunday!” The postmistress sucked in a sharp breath. “There she is now!” She nodded urgently toward the front checkout. “She’s just leaving. Do you know her, Angel? You ever seen her before?”
Gabe followed her gaze…and felt his chest tighten. Oh, yes, he knew her. He knew her, all right. She had spent last night in one of his beds.
But what was Caprice Kincaid doing here? And why was she asking questions about Malcolm Lockhart?
“Gotta go, Janet.” His steps were already taking him from the postal counter. He strode up the aisle and reached the checkout just as the exit doors swung shut behind his quarry.
Pausing impatiently, he watched through the plate glass doors till she got into her car. As soon as she drove out of the car park he made for his Range Rover.
And he followed her, at a distance, as she took the river road north—the route he took to go to the lodge.
She drove steadily, and in less than ten minutes he could see the Ryland’s Resort sign. When he noticed her left turn signal blink, irritation coursed through him. Did the woman think he would let her stay at the lodge again tonight? No way! But even as he glowered at the Honda, it sailed past the entrance…
And turned, a few seconds later, onto the track that led through the forest to the old Lockhart place.
After dinner that evening, Will stood on the crest of the hill, staring with delight at the smoke puffing from Holly Cottage.
“Fang!” She kneeled down to hug him. “The first summer lady’s here!” She snuggled her cheek against his velvety ear. “But we can’t go visit her till Dad goes away, and that won’t be for at least two more weeks—”
“Hey!”
Will almost jumped out of her skin when her father’s voice came from behind her. Shooting upright, she whirled. “Dad! I thought you were watching the six o’clock news!”
He was staring at the puffs of gray smoke. “I have to go down there.”
“But Lockhart land’s off-limits!”
“It is off-limits…but this is just a one-shot deal. That lady who stayed over last night—”
“Mrs. Kincaid?”
He nodded. “I believe she may be staying at Holly Cottage, and I need to talk to her.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “She’s one of the summer ladies?”
“Seems that way.”
“Why do you need to talk to her?”
“I told her I didn’t want her to pay for her room, but she left money anyway, and I want to return it because—”
“Because if she’s one of the Lockhart summer ladies, she’s going to need it. They’re usually poor, aren’t they?” Even as she spoke, Will’s mind was racing. If her dad went down there and Mrs. Kincaid invited him in, he might see the drawings on the fridge. Oh, cripes, she was going to be in the biggest trouble she’d ever been in her life!
“Dad,” she said in a rush, “if you give me the money, I’ll run down and give it to Mrs. Kincaid.”
“We’ll both go…but we won’t take Fang. I wouldn’t want him to get confused—he knows it’s a rule that he can’t go beyond the fence, and it wouldn’t be fair to allow it tonight and then change the rule back again tomorrow.”
“Oh, Dad, you and your rules!” But Will wasn’t even thinking about his rules—or how confused Fang must be already, because she’d taken him beyond the fence more times than she could count! All she could think about was what might happen if her dad got inside Holly Cottage.
Caprice was in the kitchen tidying up after dinner when someone hammered loudly on the back door.
Startled, she paused, a dish towel in her hand. Who could it be? Setting down the towel, she peeked out the window above the sink and saw Gabe Ryland and his daughter standing on the step. What on earth did they want?
She unlocked the door and opened it. Will was nervously curling a finger around a strand of her yellow hair; her father’s rugged face was set in a dark frown.
“Hi,” Caprice greeted them warily. “How can I help you?”
“You can help me—” Gabe thrust a narrow roll of bills at her “—by taking this back. I told you I don’t want your money—”
“And,” Will added, “you prob’ly can use it. The Lockhart summer ladies gen’r’lly find it hard to make ends meet.”
Ah. They thought she was here courtesy of Break Away.
“How did you track me down?” she asked.
Gabe’s eyes fixed on her steadily. “I heard in the village that you’d been asking about Malcolm Lockhart and I thought that was odd, because I got the impression last night that you were a stranger just passing through. But later I saw you drive in here, and I figured you’d been asking about Lockhart because you wanted to know more about the man who let the Break Away group use his cottage.”
Caprice hesitated. If she told him who she was, how could she explain having asked the postmistress about Malcolm Lockhart? Besides, wouldn’t it make her quest easier if she let the locals believe she was from Break Away? People in small communities often shut out strangers who asked questions. The postmistress had been proof of that.
“This is a very good place,” Will said, “to have a holiday. You can have nice walks in the woods, and along the riverside path. We can’t get to the river from our place, which is a real sore point with my dad because—”
“Will.” Her father’s interruption was brusque. “Mrs. Kincaid doesn’t want to hear about my problems.” He thrust out the roll of notes again. “Here. Take it.”
Caprice realized that if she did she would be lying by omission and confirming Gabe’s belief that she was from Break Away. But sometimes, she told herself, the end justified the means.
Squashing her feelings of guilt, she took the money. “Thanks. But please let me repay you in my own way for your hospitality. Would you both come for dinner tomorrow night?”
Will’s eyes flew wide open, and to her surprise Caprice saw a flash of panic in them. Panic that faded when her father said, “I appreciate the offer but this is a busy time for me, getting ready for the next batch of guests.”
“You do have to eat,” Caprice said. “And I won’t mind if you leave right after. I’m a very good cook,” she added. “Will did indicate that you have a…limited repertoire.”
A reluctant smile flickered briefly around his lips then disappeared. “Yeah. But I am going to be busy.”
“Well.” Caprice adopted a teasing tone. “I plan on making lemon meringue pie for dessert, so if you happen to change your mind, come on down. If not, maybe Will could come by herself.”
Before Will could respond, Gabe set his hand firmly on the child’s shoulder. “I need Will to help me.”
Although the child slumped with disappointment, she didn’t argue. And