“I’m Evie Hamilton, and it’s my pleasure to share ownership of Starlight Point with my brother, Jack, and my sister, June Preston. The past several years have been amazing for our family-owned park, and we couldn’t have done it without the support of the local community. Today we cut the ribbon on phase one of our planned capital improvement projects. When the marina project is totally complete, we will begin a massive renovation of the Lake Breeze Hotel. I won’t tease you with details about that today, but I hope you’ll come back this summer to a press conference where I’ll be glad to share our plans.”
If they are approved by Inspector Gotcha.
A cloud passed over the sun and temporarily shadowed the crowded docks. Evie glanced up. A line of rain clouds on the lake’s horizon were far enough away. She and her siblings would have at least an hour to share refreshments and tours with the local media and invited guests before the rain hit.
Evie smiled brightly and brandished the pair of silver scissors for the waiting cameras. “The Starlight Point Marina is officially open!”
Except it wasn’t...not until the fire inspector synchronized all his smoke detectors. She pictured an old man with a clipboard, a frown and a fire extinguisher hooked to his belt. Whatever his problem was, she could not let him stand in the way of the first project she’d taken on at Starlight Point.
If she wanted to play it safe, she’d hide in her office and tally the numbers in the accounting books. But she was more than a CPA. And she was ready to show her family she had more to offer than just accounting skills.
She cut the ribbon and watched the ends flutter to the water before seasonal employees on the docks reeled them in. This marina project would open. Soon. For today, she was taking June’s advice and making nice with the press as long as the sun shone.
* * *
CAPTAIN SCOTT BENNETT idled the fire truck in the Starlight Point parking lot as he waited for the line of cars to pull out of the marina. Despite his refusal to issue an occupancy report for the marina buildings until a few fire-safety measures were taken, he’d seen no reason to prevent the grand opening ceremony from taking place. The Hamiltons had worked hard on the project and it was a nice addition to the resort.
Except for the fact that someone had treated the fire codes as if they were an afterthought. The realization made him feel ill.
He opened his eyes. Traffic had thinned, cars escaping for drier territory as the skies opened up in a drenching afternoon shower. He pulled onto the outer loop road to drive around the Starlight Point peninsula to the fire station located on the opposite side of the amusement park. In the off season, he might have driven straight across the peninsula, but it was the first day of June and the park was in full swing. No way would he open a gate and drive past the carousel and the hotdog stands. Unless it was a life-or-death situation.
Scott was new to the fire department at Starlight Point and he wondered how many life-and-death situations a mile-long peninsula filled with rides and food stands could have.
Right now, he focused on the road. The ancient windshield wipers on the fire truck smeared the raindrops and a missing piece of rubber left a streak. Scott made a mental note to change the blades before someone got in an accident due to poor visibility. Maybe he should also check the two ambulances, small pumper and pickup that made up the Starlight Point Fire Department fleet.
He squinted through the rain. A woman in a soaked white dress was walking along the outer loop despite the numerous signs prohibiting pedestrians. He activated the flashing lights on the fire truck and pulled as far to the side of the narrow road as possible. He reached across and opened the passenger door.
“Get in,” he said.
The woman was tall and slender. Her hair was probably blond when it was dry, but right now it hung down in dark streaks against her white dress. She held a pair of high-heeled shoes in one hand as she stepped onto the running board of the fire truck.
She leaned into his truck and looked over at him. Her huge smile was like a streak of sunshine and he temporarily forgot she was violating an important safety code. Not something he took lightly.
“I don’t usually accept rides from strangers,” she said.
He reached under the seat and pulled out a roll of shop towels. He tore off three and handed them to her.
“I don’t usually pick up hitchhikers in the fire truck,” he said. “But I can’t allow you to walk along this road. It’s dangerous.”
Her focus dropped to the name tag on his uniform shirt.
A Starlight Point Fire Department patch was sewn on one shirtsleeve and the Maltese cross typical of fire departments across the country was sewn on the other. His navy blue button-down shirt tucked into navy blue pants was the uniform for the safety forces here. It wasn’t much different from the one he wore on shift at the Bayside Fire Department. With two jobs, he lived in a uniform.
“Scott,” she said. “You must be new this summer.”
He watched her towel off her face and bare arms. It was a warm day, but goose bumps covered her skin.
“Seat belt,” he said.
He reached over her, pulled the door shut, and then watched her click her safety belt. Switching off the emergency lights, he scrutinized the side mirrors for traffic as he pulled the truck onto the road.
“This is my first summer at the Point,” he said. “Do you work here?”
She laughed.
He didn’t think it was a silly question considering he’d found her walking along the outer road where pedestrians were forbidden for good reason. The road was barely wide enough for two cars. There was no shoulder on one side where it edged right up to the tall fence surrounding the amusement park. The other side had only stacked boulders between it and Lake Huron. There was no room for walkers or bikers.
“I’ve worked here for years,” she said.
He glanced at her. “You don’t look old enough for that to be true.” He knew he sounded surly, but the rainy windshield was driving him nuts. There had better not be any more hitchhikers on this road. The thought of causing an accident made his gut feel hollow.
“I started very young. My name is Evie, by the way.”
He looked at her again before turning back to the smeared windshield. Evie was an unusual name. He had just heard it somewhere else recently. Where have I run across that name?
“Why were you walking around the point?” he asked. “If you’ve worked here for years, you know that’s prohibited.”
She raised her hands over her head and fluffed her hair, running the long length of it through the remaining shop towel.
“Shortcut gone bad. I was going from the marina to the corporate office and thought I’d just dash across the road and through the gate behind the train yard. But it was locked. So I was walking up the road to the next gate.”
“Why didn’t you go through the guest entrance by the marina?”
“I didn’t have a ticket,” she said. She laughed again.
He had no idea why that was funny.
He tightened his grip on the wheel. “I can take you as far as the gate behind the Scrambler. That will get you close to the corporate office.”
“Thank you.”
Despite the wisdom of it, Scott rued the ten-mile-per-hour speed limit. He turned on the defroster, hoping to clear the windshield, which was now steaming on the inside from their breath. It was going to take at least another ten minutes on the slow crawl around the Point.
“How old is this truck?” Evie asked.
“Older than both of us.”
“Maybe we should get a new one.”
We?