claiming she didn’t want to intrude or to say something to make the situation between him and Sarah any worse.
“Agreed,” Annie said. Since she had first-hand knowledge of some of Walter’s shenanigans after Sarah’s return to Serenity, she spoke with even more authority. “I’ll have Helen check him out. Or maybe my dad. With his store right there on Main Street, he sees pretty much everything that’s going on in town. And I’ll ask Jeanette to talk to Tom. She’s been off for a couple of days, but she’ll be in tomorrow. As town manager, Tom can check with the sheriff and see if they’ve been keeping an eye on anyone suspicious.”
“Great idea,” Raylene said, shuddering a bit. She was still spooked by the idea of strangers in town, even though she knew perfectly well that her ex was in jail.
Sarah flinched at the all-out investigation she seemed to have sparked. Maybe she’d overreacted just a little. “Are you sure we’re not going overboard? Could be he’s just new in town and a big flirt.”
“Then we need to know that,” Annie said. “It’ll put your mind at ease.”
“Or it’ll rattle you even more,” Raylene said with a grin, which was a rare enough sight to be worth noting.
“I am not interested in this man,” Sarah declared forcefully.
Her friends, darn ’em both, simply laughed.
Travis McDonald sat in his cousin’s kitchen nursing a cup of coffee and thinking about the pretty little waitress at Wharton’s who’d been providing him with so much entertainment for the past few days. Yesterday he’d scared her so bad, she’d sent Grace over with his meal. Today she’d avoided him altogether, except for casting a few nervous glances his way. He hadn’t enjoyed flustering a woman like that in a long time. Most of the women he ran across threw themselves at him, so she had been a refreshing change.
Like his cousin Tom, the town manager here in Serenity, Travis had been a college baseball standout. Then he’d gone pro and spent a few years being traded around to various farm teams before finally making it to the majors with the Boston Red Sox. It had nearly killed his Southern, blueblood family to have him playing for a team up North. The only thing worse, in their opinion, would have been if he’d signed with the Yankees.
After his career had come to a screeching halt a couple of weeks back, when the Red Sox had released him right after spring training and no other team had come calling, the first person he’d phoned had been Tom. His cousin had invited Travis to stay until he figured out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. They both knew that would be easier to accomplish without Travis’s parents chiming in with their very vocal and usually differing opinions. There would also be relative anonymity here, since the locals were mostly fans of the Atlanta Braves and paid little attention to teams in the American League until the World Series rolled around. Travis relished the idea of a little privacy.
So far, he’d been pretty much flying under the radar here in Serenity, just the way he wanted to, while he gave his future some serious thought. He’d seen the occasional flicker of puzzlement, maybe a fleeting, vague hint of recognition, but not one single person had approached and asked for an autograph. That, too, was a refreshing change from the very public life he’d been leading.
At 29, he’d come out of baseball with a decent amount of money in the bank, no permanent ties beyond his divorced parents and a couple of well-meaning, but annoying sisters, and absolutely no sense of direction. The only thing he’d known for sure was that he couldn’t get back to the South fast enough. The northern weather was too cold and unpredictable and Boston too crowded. Then, too, he hadn’t especially wanted to hang around a town where he’d been dumped by its beloved sports team.
For the past several days he’d spent countless hours right here at this kitchen table talking over his options with the older cousin who’d always been a mentor to him, and with Tom’s wife, Jeanette, who treated him like a younger brother, but without the nagging of an older sister.
This morning, as he’d listened to Grace Wharton try to tune in the nearest radio station from over in Columbia only to wind up with mostly static, an idea had bubbled to the surface. He could hardly wait for Tom and Jeanette to get home so he could try it out on them. It was a plan that would make good use of his education and just might satisfy his folks, plus it offered the challenge he craved.
He’d already done some digging around on the Internet and discovered that a small radio station that had virtually no signal and little programming beyond the weather and a stockpile of oldies was for sale. He’d even made a phone call to the owner and determined he could not only afford to buy it, he could buy the current owner’s expertise for a few months until he got the hang of running it himself. Now all that remained was getting Tom’s stamp of approval…or, more likely, a stern lecture detailing why he’d be out of his ever-lovin’ mind to even consider such a thing.
To grease the wheels for the conversation, Travis had spent the past hour on the back patio tossing a salad and heating up the grill for the thick steaks he’d picked up at the market. He’d even set the table and uncorked a bottle of halfway decent wine in honor of the occasion. He had his favorite beer on ice for himself. The serene garden setting—which Jeanette claimed was the sole reason she’d bought the house right out from under Tom before they’d even started dating—was ideal for a good meal and some serious conversation.
An hour later, with Tom and Jeanette sighing with appreciation over his pretty basic culinary efforts, Travis launched into a description of his brainstorm. The incredulous expression on Tom’s face was a little daunting, but Travis forged ahead anyway. When he’d finished, he waited expectantly.
“Are you nuts?” his cousin demanded.
Tom’s reaction was pretty much what Travis would have expected from his father, so it was a little discouraging to have it coming from his cousin, whom he’d expected to be more supportive.
Jeanette, however, regarded him with obvious delight. “I think it’s a fabulous idea. It’s just what this town needs.”
“Since when does Serenity need its own radio station?” Tom asked, his expression dubious.
“You said so yourself after that last hurricane looked as if it was aiming straight for us,” Jeanette responded. “You said we needed a way for everyone in town to get up-to-the-minute information relevant to Serenity, instead of just what was going on over in Charleston or Columbia.”
Tom scowled at her. “That was different.”
“How so?” Jeanette inquired.
“I was just saying someone should do it,” Tom grumbled. “I didn’t mean my own cousin should come into town and throw his money away.”
“Are you so sure a radio station wouldn’t make money here?” Travis asked. “There’s no competition, at least not close enough to matter. I’d get all the local advertising dollars.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Tom said. “We’re in the midst of an economic crisis. None of the businesses around here have money to throw away on advertising. They’re all just trying to stay afloat.”
“Which is precisely why they need to advertise,” Jeanette chimed in, backing up Travis. “When did you start to sound so negative about this town, anyway?”
“I’m not down on Serenity. I’m just being realistic.” He faced Travis. “Why would you want to stay here, when you could locate anywhere in the country?”
“Why not?” Travis responded. “You did. In fact, if I’m recalling correctly, you had a chance to move back to Charleston and you decided to stay right here.”
Tom glanced at his wife, undisguised adoration in his eyes. “I was persuaded that someone here might make it worth my while.”
“Don’t blame it all on me,” Jeanette said, obviously not taking his gallant words as much of a compliment. “When the town heard you might leave, they put on a full-court press to keep you here.