landline phone rang, startling him. He picked it up automatically. “Silver Beeches Lodge. Liam Kavanagh speaking.”
The voice on the other end was familiar. “Hey, buddy. Do you have a minute to come down to the shop?”
“What’s up, Gary?” He and the owner of the Silver Chassis had gone to public school together for years and remained friends to this day, despite the differences in their financial situations. Maeve had taught her children from the cradle that they were no better than anyone else. Money is not the measure of a man. Liam had heard those words from her a hundred times.
Silver Glen’s most talented mechanic lowered his voice. “I don’t want to say anything over the phone. But I think you’ll want to see this.”
* * *
Liam snagged a bagel and a banana from the hotel kitchen and ate them on the way down the mountain. The scenic drive was so familiar, he could have done it in his sleep, but the view affected him every time. This town would not exist without Kavanagh ancestors. Every part of the community had Kavanagh blood running through its veins.
For Liam it was both a blessing and a curse. He was proud to be a part of something so special, but he was ruefully aware that his heritage chained him here as certainly as any prison bars.
He’d taken up the yoke after his father’s disappearance. He had stood beside his grieving mother and sworn to keep their family together and afloat. But in the process, he’d given up any autonomy over his future. The road ahead was never going to change. He had trained himself to ignore the bleak disappointment that knowledge occasionally evoked.
He parked on the street behind Gary’s shop and went in search of the owner. Gary was in the pit, examining the undercarriage of a vintage VW bus. When he noticed Liam’s presence, he called out. “Hold on.” Moments later, he climbed up and joined Liam. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
Liam frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Gary was balding prematurely and had a bit of a beer gut, but he knew cars better than anyone Liam had ever met. “It was towed here this morning by an automobile service. The owner contacted me and gave me carte blanche to replace the engine and anything else that needed attention.”
“So?”
“So,” Gary said with a grimace, “the owner has checked into your hotel.”
Liam shook his head in disbelief as the light dawned. “Zoe Chamberlain,” he said.
“How did you know?”
“A lucky guess. When she walked through the front door I pegged her as the reincarnation of a 1960s love child. But despite her eccentricities, I don’t get your concern.”
Gary rubbed his chin, smearing grease below his lip. “Take a look.” He opened the back of the van. “Ms. Chamberlain has been sleeping in the back of her vehicle. On a regular basis. The mattress is well-worn, and she has a stash of personal toiletries in that small cabinet. Call me crazy, but how can a woman like that afford the Silver Beeches? She gave me a platinum card number with no limit. I’m a little spooked though. I can’t afford to get ripped off on a job this big.”
“Meaning you think the card might be stolen?”
“Well, what’s your explanation?”
“I don’t have one.” Liam’s stomach curled with frustration. Had he been taken in by a scam artist?
“How long is she staying?”
“She made a reservation for six weeks.”
“Hell, man. You know your rates better than I do. Something doesn’t add up.”
Liam took one last look inside the van and closed the door. “Go ahead and start ordering parts. I’ll cover it all if there’s a problem. In the meantime, tell her it’s going to be a week or more. I’ll offer her a hotel vehicle to drive. That will buy us some time to make sure the credit card is legit.” His own motives were muddled, but if he did Zoe a favor, perhaps she would be inclined to drop her guard around him and he could figure out what the hell was going on.
Gary slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Liam. Sorry for interrupting your day, but I thought you’d want to know.”
Liam grimaced. “I appreciate the heads-up. I’ll keep you posted.”
* * *
Zoe slept late and enjoyed a wonderfully lazy morning in bed. Breakfast was delivered via room service—a selection of handmade miniature pastries, generous servings of bacon and eggs, and a fancy silver pot full of coffee. By the time she finished, her tummy was uncomfortably full, but she didn’t regret a bite of the overindulgence.
Setting the tray outside her door, she made sure the do-not-disturb sign was in place on the doorknob and then climbed back into bed. Because her room was on the top floor, she had the luxury of leaving the drapes open without worrying about anyone looking in on her.
The sunshine boosted her spirits. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she curled into the spot that was still warm and let her mind wander.
She felt safe in this room in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
The only shadow over her current happiness was Bessie. The garage owner had called moments before and said the repairs would take a number of days because of the difficulty of getting parts. Which meant Zoe was stranded. The nearest car rental place was at the airport in Asheville. She didn’t really want to go back there.
Maybe she could hitch a ride with someone going into town. She liked exploring new places, and Silver Glen, at least from a distance, appeared delightfully appealing.
The severity of her illness had scared her. It was difficult to maintain a healthy lifestyle on the road. Too much fast food and not enough rest and exercise. During the weeks she had booked at the Silver Beeches, she needed to take advantage of the hotel chef’s expertise and eat well.
By one in the afternoon, she had reached her limit for taking it easy. After showering and changing into black slacks and a silky top with a geometric pattern of taupe and cinnamon, she went in search of the dining room. White linen tablecloths and crystal chandeliers set a standard for elegance, though she saw a wide variety of clothing choices in the diners. Everything from jeans to suits and ties.
Asking the hostess for a table for one did not bother Zoe. She had lived much of her adult life on her own. Choosing what to order was far more difficult. The menu was amazing. At long last, she settled on chicken marsala with spinach salad and sautéed squash. The meal included hot yeast rolls that were to die for.
As she ate, she studied her companions surreptitiously. Everyone in the room seemed at ease with the upscale setting. No one pretending to be something they were not. But everyone had secrets of one sort or another, no matter their station in life.
She was drinking coffee with her sorbet when Liam strode into the room. He worked the crowd effortlessly, stopping to speak to one table and then another. His confidence and charm drew smiles from patrons who were clearly pleased to receive his attention. Today he wore a navy sport coat over khaki trousers with another crisp white shirt. His tie was a tasteful paisley pattern of blues and greens.
Despite his conservative clothing, his physique was impressive. Broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips, and long legs. If she had to guess, she’d say he was about six-two to her five foot nine.
Zoe smiled at him wryly when he finally made it to where she sat, her pulse skittering in a disconcerting fashion. “You should have been a politician. I can see you kissing babies and shaking hands all over the state.”
Without asking, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. His quick grin took years off his age. “I hate lying and sucking up to fat cats. So I don’t think so. I’m happy right where I am.”
“Are you really?”
The grin disappeared, replaced by what she was coming to recognize