The Inn at Holiday Bay: Answers in the Ashes

Book 34: The Inn at Holiday Bay

by Kathi Daley

Genres: Mystery; Animal Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

A case of arson, a long road to recovery, and a new beginning built up from the ashes.

After suffering a personal tragedy Abby Sullivan buys seaside mansion, packs up her life in San Francisco, and moves to Holiday Bay, where she is adopted, quite against her will, by a huge Maine Coon Cat named Rufus, a drifter with her own tragic past named Georgia, and a giant dog with an inferiority complex named Ramos. What Abby thought she needed was alone time to heal. What she ended up with was, an inn she never knew she wanted, a cat she couldn't seem to convince to leave, and a new family she'd never be able to live without.

Was it faulty wiring, or was it arson?

(A complete description of book 34 will provide spoilers for book 33 in the series so a more complete description won't be added until two weeks after book 33 publishes)

Read more

Release date: June 24, 2025

Publisher: Kathi Daley Books

Print pages: 158

Reader says this book is...: entertaining story (1) escapist/easy read (1)

Sample

Chapter 1

“Abby, watch out!” my best friend and business partner, Georgia Carter-Peyton, shouted as a
man stepped off the curb and walked directly in front of my vehicle.
I slammed on the brakes, missing him by inches.
“What’s wrong with that guy?” Georgia asked as we both took a few seconds to catch our
breath. “If you were going a fraction of a mile an hour faster or if we’d seen him a fraction of a
second later, we would have hit him for sure.”
I watched the guy wearing a lime green polo shirt that not only looked too short but also too
wide for his tall, thin frame stumble around a bit before he finished crossing the street and then
continued down one of the side streets that intercepted with Main Street. “It was like he was in a
trance. The guy came within an inch of serious injury, and yet he didn’t even flinch. He just
stepped off the curb, walked in front of my vehicle, and then kept walking.”
“He must be drunk,” Georgia responded. “Or seriously hung over. I can’t think of any other
reason the guy would walk out in front of us like that.”
“I guess the town did host the beer garden and jazz festival this past weekend,” I told
Georgia. “Now that I think about it, that lime green shirt looked like the t-shirts worn by the
Guac and Roll food truck staff. If I had to guess, the guy passed out in the park or on the beach
after a weekend of drinking and is just now making his way home.”
The car behind me beeped his horn. I supposed I had stopped traffic when I’d slammed on
my brakes, and now that the excitement of a near miss was over, the guy in the car behind me
felt I should move on. Even though I was still somewhat shaky, I took my foot off the brake and
continued slowly forward after taking a few deep breaths. Our destination was Firehouse Books,
the bookstore owned by our good friends, Lou Prescott and Velma Crawford. The bookstore was
about two blocks further down Main Street than the park was, and I was sure I could make it
even though my hands were still shaking.
I continued driving but slowed as we passed the food court area, which was located at the far
end of the park. As could have been predicted, trash overflowed from every receptacle in the
area, and the bandstand where the featured bands had done their thing was littered with confetti
and several pieces of clothing. “It must have been some party last night,” I said to Georgia as I
pulled up to a stop sign. “The Crazy Cajun food truck is still parked near the food court. I’d think
the town would have kicked him out by now.”
“Maybe he had trouble starting the food truck after the event, and the town coordinator
decided to give him time to arrange for a tow, or maybe there were so many drunks left in the
park that the town council decided to give everyone a pass.”
“Perhaps. It does appear that a good time was had.”

Georgia turned slightly in her seat. “I guess I get it. I’ve always enjoyed the beer garden and
jazz festival weekend and likely would have gone this year had I not been pregnant and unable to
drink.”
“Honestly, I’ve been so busy with Colt that I forgot all about it.” I referred to my boyfriend,
Police Chief Colt Wilder, who was out on medical leave after being injured on the job. I
continued driving for a bit and then stopped at a stoplight as a group of pedestrians crossed the
street. “And I guess I get how the Crazy Cajun might have had a problem getting his food truck
started after the event. There may even have been tampering. I heard that the food trucks
working in the area are involved in a competition of some sort this summer. Wasn’t that
supposed to begin this weekend?”
Georgia nodded. “Voting for the annual Roach King contest has been moved to the weekend
events this summer. The voting process was redesigned to accommodate voting by visitors in
addition to locals.” Georgia unpeeled the wrapper from a piece of gum and popped it into her
mouth. “In the past, the vote for the best food truck in the area has been carried out during a town
council meeting, but this year, the voting will take place over three weekends. The beer garden
and jazz festival this past weekend, followed by the Fourth of July celebration next weekend, and
Lobsterfest the following weekend. Everyone who attends one of the events is eligible to vote,
regardless of whether they are a local resident or a visitor. If an individual wants to vote multiple
times, they can pick up a new ballot for each featured weekend.”
“I guess pairing the food truck competition, which is always a fierce battle for the number
one spot, with special event weekends makes sense,” I said. “It seems as if the pairing would
bring more attention to the food trucks, and the contest would likely bring additional visitors for
the event.”
“I think that’s the idea,” Georgia agreed. “Once the votes and rankings are tallied for each
weekend, the committee will combine the scores for those three weekends to determine the grand
prize winner.”
“And what does the grand prize winner get?” I asked.
“The grand prize winner inherits the Roach King trophy from last year’s winner, which, trust
me, is a big deal even though the topper for the trophy is a roach with a crown on its head.
Although, I think the biggest pull of the contest is the bragging rights. In addition to the trophy,
the winning food truck will be awarded a banner they can display that lets everyone know they
were voted the best food truck in the area.”
“And if the same team wins two years in a row?”
“They keep the trophy and are given a second banner with that year on it. The BBQ Brothers
have walked away with the title the last three years in a row, which I think is partially behind the
movement to change how the voting occurs.”
“I can see that,” I said as the crosswalk cleared. “Timmy Brothers is on the town council, so
voting during a town council meeting would likely favor the food truck he owns with his brother,
Tommy.”
“Exactly. Rene from the Crazy Cajun food truck spearheaded the movement to gather votes
via another method, and someone came up with the idea of doing the vote during the summer’s
three busiest events.”

“It’ll be interesting to see who comes out on top.” I pulled up in front of the bookstore and
parked. “For my part, I enjoy the fish and chips served by Antonio, otherwise known as the
Codfather, but his food truck is a bit more low-key than almost all the others.”
“The Codfather has been around for a long time. He serves a quality product without all the
hype. Antonio appears happy staying in his lane and leaving the food truck wars to the younger
crowd.”
That did seem to be the case.
“It looks like the bookstore is closed,” Georgia said as we prepared to exit the vehicle. “The
sign on the door says that the bookstore will be closed this morning but will open after lunch.”
I looked at my watch. “It’s almost noon. Let’s go around back. Maybe Marnie and Cricket
know what’s going on.”
Marnie and Cricket Abernathy were sisters who recently moved to Holiday Bay, Maine, to
open a flower shop. They were the friendly sorts who’d quickly made a place for themselves in
the community.
“I wanted to talk to them about the flowers for next weekend anyway,” Georgia said,
supporting my suggestion. “Let’s just park here since we’re already settled and walk over to All
About Bluebells through the courtyard.” The flower shop was located on the street, paralleling
the bookstore, but the bookstore and flower shop shared a courtyard, which was also shared by a
delicatessen and a craft store.
“Do you know if the new tenant for the storefront Astoria vacated ever moved in?” I asked
Georgia.
“I haven’t heard. I guess we can check it out while we’re here.”
Astoria Walton owned a wine bar that shared the same courtyard as the other four businesses,
but since she’d decided to move out of the area, she sold her remaining inventory and had given
up her lease. The space Astoria had occupied was being remodeled the last time I visited with
Lou, but I hadn’t heard if a new tenant had moved in.
“It looks like the space is still empty,” I said as we walked by.
“Yes, it looks like it is.” She paused to look in the window. “It seems odd that no one has
moved in yet.”
“It is odd,” I said, putting a hand on the doorknob for All About Bluebells. “But since these
storefronts lease for twice as much as storefronts that don’t have ocean views, perhaps the
building owner is just looking for the right business to go in.” I gave the door a push and was
immediately greeted by Cricket Abernathy.
“So, how’s our expectant mama doing?” Cricket asked Georgia the minute we walked in
through their showroom door. Georgia had recently learned she would be a first-time mother, and
news of her impending parenthood was still spreading.
“She’s doing fine,” Georgia answered. “At least most of the time.”
“Morning sickness?” Cricket asked.

“A bit, although so far, I believe the most challenging aspect has been the mood swings I’ve
been experiencing. I wasn’t expecting the wide range of emotions that appear to have
accompanied this pregnancy.”
Cricket reached out and took Georgia’s hand in hers. “While I have heard that raging
hormones are part of the pregnancy package, if I had to guess, I’d say that a lot of the emotional
upheaval you’ve experienced as of late has more to do with being kidnapped, facing your own
mortality, and seeing a good friend seriously injured during your rescue. That’s a lot for anyone
to have to deal with.”
“Once everything was over, I guess I did experience a bit of PTSD. But I’m better now,”
Georgia assured her. She placed a hand on her stomach. “At least I’m trying to be better for my
little girl.”
“Little girl?” asked Marnie Abernathy, Cricket’s sister and business partner. “I know you’ve
referred to your baby as ‘she’ since the beginning, but do you know for certain that she’s a girl?”
“As of this morning,” Georgia informed her. “Abby went with me for the ultrasound, and
Doctor Chan confirmed that my little peanut is indeed a girl, as I’ve suspected all along.”
Marnie reached out and hugged Georgia. “I’m so happy for you, and I’m honored we were
amongst the first to hear the news.”
I wasn’t sure that Georgia should have told anyone her news yet since her husband, Tanner,
didn’t know the ultrasound results, but this was Georgia’s thing, so I didn’t say as much.
“So, about the flowers for next weekend,” Georgia said. “I know we decided on traditional
red, white, and blue flowers for the suites and cottages, but I want two larger arrangements for
the entry and the dining table. I’d love to add something dramatic to the mix. Something that will
really help the arrangements stand out.”
“I think I have just the thing,” Cricket said. “Come on back, and I’ll show you a sample.”
After Cricket and Georgia headed into the back room, I turned my attention to Marnie. “I
noticed Firehouse Books is closed this morning.”
“Lou, Velma, and Eden are all involved in the big Fourth of July celebration this weekend.
There was a planning committee meeting this morning, so they decided to wait to open the
bookstore after lunch.”
“And Joy?” I asked about Lou’s other full-time employee, Joy Christenson, who often ran
things when Lou, Velma, and their head assistant, Eden Halliwell, were unavailable.
“Joy went with her mother and siblings to help sort out some issues with her stepfather’s
estate. I think she’ll be back in a day or two.”
“Her mother isn’t having any more problems with that, is she?”
“No, at least I don’t think so. I think there were just some things the attorney needed to go
over with Joy’s mother, and it was decided it would be best to meet in person. I think Joy just
went along for moral support and to help with her younger siblings.”
Joy’s mother had suffered a slew of legal problems after the unexpected death of her
husband, which she’d managed to get sorted out, so I was glad that those problems hadn’t
resurfaced after all this time.

Marnie continued. “I know Colt went over the paperwork with Joy when the attorney first
sent it a few months ago so she would be sure to understand what her mother would be signing.
Joy seemed to think it was pretty clear cut, but you never know what you will get when dealing
with that family.”
“It does seem as if the family has a lot of baggage to unpack. I’m glad Colt could help her.”
“How’s Colt been doing since the shooting?” Marnie asked.
“He’s hanging in there.”
Colt had been shot in both the shoulder and the leg while saving Georgia from a kidnapper.
While the bullet to the shoulder that ricocheted off his shoulder bone and became lodged in his
chest proved to be the more serious wound in the short term, it was the shattered femur that was
proving to be the foremost concern for the long term.
“Abby has been taking care of Colt twenty-four-seven,” Georgia said after she walked back
into the showroom from the backroom in time to hear my answer to Marnie’s question. “She’s
barely left his side during the two weeks he’s been home from the rehabilitation center. I’m not
sure how she’s been able to cope with all the challenges she’s been faced with, but so far, she
seems to be doing an excellent job of hanging in there.”
“I haven’t done anything more than anyone else would have in the same situation,” I told the
group. “And I haven’t been doing it alone. Everyone has pitched in. Especially Lonnie, who has
helped with rides to and from physical therapy and doctor’s appointments.” I referred to Colt’s
best friend, Lonnie Parker.
“Even with help, I’m sure the situation has proven to be a major disruption to your life.”
I responded to Marnie. “I’m just so happy that Colt is alive and on his way to recovery that I
really haven’t given a single thought to the inconvenience of having my life disrupted.”
“I understand that,” Marnie replied.
Colt had been shot four weeks ago and had been home for the past two weeks. During those
two weeks, Colt and I had figured out a routine that seemed to work for both of us. Colt’s niece
and nephew, who lived with him full-time, had gone to California to visit Colt’s cousin and her
family. They originally only planned to be away for a month, but after Colt was injured, his
cousin offered to keep the kids until school started in the fall, which allowed Colt to stay with me
in my cottage at the inn. This worked out well since Colt had physical therapy four days a week
in addition to any doctor appointments, which meant that I spent a lot of time driving him to and
from town. Not that I minded. As I’d told Marnie, I was just so happy that he hadn’t died that I
would have driven him between the inn and Holiday Bay a hundred times a week if doing so
would have made a difference in his recovery.
In addition to having Colt’s niece and nephew occupied for the summer, his parents, who’d
added their own kind of tension to the situation, had decided to spend the entire summer
exploring this beautiful country in their motor home, which provided a nice break for Colt, as
well as time for Colt and me to bond as a couple.
“Is Colt still in the wheelchair?” Marnie asked.
“He is,” I said. “It will be months before he can walk on that leg. If not for the injury to his
shoulder and chest, he would have been getting around on crutches by now, but given the

additional injury to his upper body, a wheelchair really is necessary. He can put weight on the
uninjured leg now, so he can get himself in and out of the wheelchair without help, and he does
okay taking care of his personal needs without further injuring himself now that he’s gotten used
to moving around. The chest and shoulder wounds are healing nicely, so it won’t be long before
crutches will be an option. As long as he doesn’t go stir crazy without his job to keep his mind
occupied, I think he’ll be fine.”
“I guess being out of work must be hard for a guy like Colt, who is used to being right there
in the middle of things,” Marnie sympathized.
“It has been hard, but he seems to be dealing with everything okay.”
“I’m glad to hear that he’s adapting.”
I nodded toward the empty storefront next to All About Bluebells. “I thought the landlord
had that space rented out.”
“He did, but the prospective tenant wanted some changes, which the landlord agreed to, and
then once the renovations were complete, the tenant changed their mind. I know the landlord is
looking for someone to take over the space. My friend, Paisley, looked into leasing it for a
bakery but decided she couldn’t afford to pay the full lease without a partner.”
“I thought she was going to operate her business from home.”
“That had been her original plan, but I guess she quickly realized that she would need a
storefront if she hoped to build the business she’d always dreamed of owning.”
I’d met Paisley Bradford a few months ago when I ran into her while picking up a bouquet of
flowers Georgia had ordered for one of the guest suites. We hadn’t spoken for long, but my
initial impression of her was positive. She was an energetic young woman, no older than twenty-
eight or nine. She had curly blond hair and the bluest eyes, which seemed to tear up just a bit as
she explained that she’d only recently moved to Holiday Bay from Hartford, Connecticut, after a
messy divorce from her high school sweetheart, who had been her first, and she thought only true
love. When I arrived to pick up the flowers, Paisley just happened to have stopped by to drop off
a box of cupcakes for Marnie and Cricket to give away as samples. I was offered a sugary treat,
which, of course, I accepted. I have to admit the moist cupcakes were about the best I’d ever
eaten.
“A bakery would be a nice addition to the courtyard,” I said, picturing cupcakes, pies, and
tarts tempting me from the bakery’s window. “And Paisley has the right personality to do well
selling her treats. Maybe she can find someone to team up with.”
“Maybe,” Marnie agreed. “But when I suggested as much, she said that if she were to team
up with someone, she’d need just the right person, and no one immediately came to mind. I can
understand how important it is to get just the right person. A business partner you don’t get along
with, much like an ex-husband you no longer mesh with, seems, at least to me, to be the perfect
recipe for a life filled with stress and misery. In my opinion, Paisley has endured as much stress
and heartache as she can tolerate.”
I understood that. Georgia and I were not only business partners but were also best friends,
which, in the end, I think was the key to our success.

Lou, Velma, and Eden returned from the planning committee meeting and wandered into the
courtyard as our conversation with the Abernathy sisters was winding down. Georgia wanted to
talk to Lou about a book signing, so she took a few minutes to wrap things up with Marnie and
Cricket while I wandered outside to enjoy the fresh air.
“Abby,” Velma greeted me with a hug. She turned to the woman standing next to her. “Ginny,
this is my good friend and honorary daughter, Abby Sullivan.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ginny said as she reached out to shake my hand.
“Ginny owns Sunny Side Up,” Velma informed me.
“That’s the food truck that sells loaded waffles and breakfast sandwiches. I’ve stopped there
a few times when you were parked near the marina. Your waffles are some of the best I’ve ever
eaten. I used to look for your food truck when I was in town, but I haven’t noticed you in the area
the past couple of summers.”
“I moved to Bar Harbor but decided to try Holiday Bay again this summer. I like what the
town decided to do with the annual competition. Not that a food truck that sells breakfast food
has a chance against food trucks like the Slice is Right or the Lord of the Fries, but the contest
has already given me free exposure I wouldn’t otherwise have had.”
“Have you entered the competition this year?” I asked.
“No, I was going to even though I was still settling in here at the bay, but I ran into Tommy
Brothers, who was all worked up over the change in voting procedure, and after listening to him
rant for thirty minutes, decided it really wasn’t worth it. Maybe next year.”
“It does seem like a lot of hoopla for a trophy with a roach on it.”
“It’s more about the bragging rights and the free publicity,” Ginny explained.
I remembered that Georgia had said nearly the same thing, but I didn’t really get the
attraction of being named Roach King. Maybe it was a foodie thing. I was about to ask Ginny
what she thought about the changes to the food truck industry in the community over the past
couple of years when I noticed Velma’s face light up as Georgia walked toward us.
“How are you feeling, honey?” Velma asked the expectant mama while giving Georgia a
long, hard hug.
“Pretty good, considering,” Georgia answered, putting her hand on her stomach. She looked
at Ginny. “Ginny, right?”
Ginny nodded. “Good memory.”
Georgia laughed. “I’m not always good at remembering names, but I always remember good
food.”
“I was just on my way to introduce Ginny to Eli and Andy,” Velma informed us. Eli and
Andy Anderson co-owned the Surfside Deli, which shared the courtyard with the bookstore,
Marnie and Cricket’s flower shop, and a craft store. “She’s thinking about expanding and
offering wraps and deli sandwiches in the afternoon in addition to her waffles and breakfast
sandwiches, which are mainly a breakfast offering, so I offered to introduce her to the brothers,
who will likely have some input on running things from the deli side of the street.”

“Andy and Eli have the best deli in town,” I shared. “And they’re the nicest guys you’d ever
want to meet. If they have any suggestions that might help with your endeavor, I’m sure they’d
be happy to chat with you.”
Velma and Ginny left to chat with the brothers, so I asked about the book signing Lou
planned to host for Georgia, which was the reason we were here in the first place.
“I’d like to do something during Lobsterfest,” Lou said after I brought up the subject. “The
weekend will have a foodie feel to it with the brisket cookoff, food truck competition in the park,
and lobster t-shirts and paraphernalia, which are bound to be peddled on every street corner. I
suspect a book signing for a cookbook will fit right in with things, provided we can get enough
books by then. Lobsterfest is the weekend after the Fourth of July. I guess that must be in about
twelve days.”
“I have cases of books at the house,” Georgia assured her. “And I agree that doing the signing
during Lobsterfest is a good idea.” Georgia looked around. “I realize that we initially discussed
having an indoor option, but now that you’ve mentioned it, I believe having a booth in the park
might be the most effective choice.”
“I think part of the point of having Lou sponsor the event is to get folks in the bookstore’s
door,” I pointed out.
“Maybe we can do things in two phases,” Eden suggested. “Georgia can do her presentation
in the park and then send everyone to the bookstore for a book signing, giveaway, and
refreshments.”
“I like that,” I said. “Doing the presentation in the park will undoubtedly attract individuals
who might have never considered attending a book signing in the bookstore, and sending them to
the bookstore for the signing will provide Firehouse Books with exposure to new customers who
might not have stopped in before.”
“I’ll see if I can secure an hour on the bandstand for the presentation,” Lou offered.
“And I’ll see about getting some additional swag from my publisher to accommodate a larger
audience,” Georgia responded.
“That would be great. You can bring everything your publisher gives you to the bookstore
before heading to the park. I’ll have Eden and Joy set things up real nice.”
“I appreciate that. Maybe Marnie and Cricket can create a bouquet for the signing table. Just
something small, which I’ll happily pay for. And if Ethel has any ideas to spruce things up, I’d
be open to hearing them.”
Ethel Covington owned A Bit of This and That, a craft store in the courtyard on the end near
the deli.
“I guess you haven’t heard,” Lou said. “Ethel sold her store.”
I raised a brow. “Ethel sold her store? When did this happen?”
“Recently, actually. I imagine you know Ethel and her husband have been struggling since
their youngest moved out. It seems empty nest syndrome hit them hard, so they decided to go to
counseling, and the counselor suggested that they try to reshape their lives to better

accommodate the two of them as a couple. Since Gary had already retired, Ethel decided to sell
her store so they could travel.”
“Well, good for them.” I smiled. “I’ll miss stopping in to chat with Ethel, but I do support the
idea of letting go of life patterns that no longer fit to make room for a new future filled with new
possibilities.”
“Ethel said something very similar to me,” Lou said.
“Has the new owner taken over yet?” Georgia asked.
“In terms of owning the business, I think she has taken over, but I don’t think she’s reopened
yet. I spoke to the new owner, a woman whose name is Bristol Cunningham, when she was here
for the walkthrough, and she told me that while she loves crafting and creating things that didn’t
exist until she brought them to life, she was looking to modernize what Ethel had. Bristol has a
degree in design, and apparently, based on what I heard from Ethel, she possesses a remarkable
talent for intuitively determining the most harmonious combinations of colors, textures, and
designs. In the beginning, Ethel was afraid her regular customers would push back against too
much change, but now that she’s gotten to know Bristol a bit, she seems to think her customers
will end up loving the young woman.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I know how close the courtyard gang is and how much you value the
family you’ve created. It would be a shame for new business owners who don’t quite fit in to
move in.”
Lou narrowed her gaze. “Actually, I’ve spent quite a lot of time worrying about that very
thing.”
Georgia and I chatted with Lou a while longer, and then we headed to the Bistro at Holiday
Bay for a late lunch. I figured that now that Georgia had let the cat out of the bag about her
baby’s gender with Marnie and Cricket and then told Lou, Velma, and Eden, everyone in town
would find out sooner rather than later.
“Shelby knows you had a doctor’s appointment this morning, so I suspect she’ll ask. Should
we tell her?” I referred to Shelby Morris, our good friend and the owner of the Bistro.
“We should,” Georgia answered my question. “If Nikki is working today, we know she will
ask anyway.”
Nikki was Tanner’s sister and Georgia’s sister-in-law. She’d been as excited about the baby
as anyone, and I was sure she would ask about Georgia’s appointment if given the opportunity. “I
thought you might want to wait to talk to Tanner before too many people found out.”
“I called, and he didn’t answer. I left a message.”
“Do you think he’ll be hurt that he wasn’t the first to know?”
She shrugged. “If Tanner wanted to be the first to know, he should have come to the
appointment.”
I could tell by Georgia’s tone that everything was not okay in the Peyton household. Tanner
and Georgia hadn’t planned to get pregnant as soon as they had, and while the timing was a
surprise, the idea of having a baby was something both of them had been excited about. I
remembered that Georgia had been nervous about Tanner’s reaction to the news that they were

two years ahead of schedule, but Tanner had always wanted children, so I was sure he’d be
thrilled despite the changes to the timeline. When I’d spoken to Georgia a couple of weeks ago, it
seemed like Tanner was entirely on board with things, but now I wasn’t as sure.
The Bistro was crowded as it was every afternoon and evening during the summer, but I’d
called ahead, and Shelby had saved us a table on the rooftop. It was a four-top, and since there
were just two of us, ample room was available for Shelby to sit down and join us for a chat once
she’d taken our order.
“So tell me everything,” Shelby said with an abundance of enthusiasm. “Is the baby doing
well?”
“She is,” Georgia smiled. “Doctor Chan even said she’s about the most perfect fetus she’s
ever seen.”
I’d been with Georgia the entire time, and I knew that while Doctor Chan was happy with
how things were progressing, she hadn’t said a thing about a perfect fetus.
“So the baby’s a she for sure?” Shelby asked.
Georgia nodded. Shelby screeched, and the women hugged.
“I’m so excited for you,” Shelby said. “I know that initially, you weren’t certain about a
baby, but I can see that pregnancy truly suits you. You’re positively glowing.”
“Most of the time, I feel more green than glowing, but I’m glad the green doesn’t show.”
Jody, one of Shelby’s newer waitresses, wandered over to let Shelby know that Beck’s
afternoon appointment had arrived but that Beck hadn’t arrived yet. Beck Cage was a private
investigator who, for reasons I didn’t fully understand, chose to meet with his clients in the booth
referred to as “Beck’s Booth” in the back of the bar.
“I’ll call Beck, and you go ahead and seat the client in Beck’s Booth. Offer him coffee or
another nonalcoholic beverage.”
Jody trotted off to follow Shelby’s instructions while Shelby excused herself to make her
call. As soon as Shelby left, Charmaine, the recently promoted dining room manager at the
Bistro, came over to say hi. She gave Georgia a hug. “There’s my mama-to-be. I haven’t seen
you since you found out about the baby, so I won’t be the first to congratulate you, but I saw you
sitting here and wanted to congratulate you all the same.”
“Thank you,” Georgia said, hugging her back. “Tanner and I are excited and looking forward
to meeting our new little princess.”
“Have you settled on a name?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, you can never go wrong with a classy yet artsy name like Charmaine,” she teased.
Georgia promised to keep that in mind.
Shelby wandered back with our meals just as Charmaine left to seat a group.
“Is everything okay with Beck?” I asked.

She nodded. “Beck’s just running late, but he said he’d be here in a few minutes. It seems as
if his caseload has been heavier than normal as of late. I know he likes to space his clients out a
bit, and he rarely takes on more than one demanding case at a time, but he’s been double and
triple booked the past few months.”
“I guess it’s good that his business is growing, but he’s going to run himself ragged if he tries
to keep up that pace for long,” I said.
“He needs help,” Georgia added.
“Actually, Beck did mention that he was considering talking to Colt about helping with a few
things that don’t require leg work. He didn’t want to approach him while he was still in a lot of
pain, but based on what Lonnie told Beck when Lonnie and Lacy were in for dinner a few nights
ago, Colt is feeling better but is beginning to feel antsy.”
“I’d say that’s accurate,” I agreed. “Lonnie has been helping by taking Colt to some of his
physical therapy sessions and doctor’s appointments, and I know they talk. I’m sure Lonnie has
more insight into things than I do since Colt always tries to protect me from anything negative. If
Beck needs someone to do computer work or maybe someone to help with theory and strategy
building, and Lonnie thinks he’s ready to get back to work, I think Colt might be interested.”
“I’ll mention it to Beck,” Shelby said. “I thought I might run into the two of you at the beer
garden and jazz festival, but I guess it must still be hard for Colt to get around.”
“He does well with the wheelchair, but I suspect the crowds would have been too much for
him. We did consider coming into town for just an hour but decided to give his leg another week
to heal before we got too ambitious.”
“It’s probably a good thing you decided to skip it. The Reindeer Roundup provided the beer
for the weekend, and you know what a generous pour the bartenders over there have. There were
a lot of really drunk spectators by the end.”
“So, how exactly did that work?” I asked. “You said the Reindeer Roundup provided the
beer. Knowing Gus, I’m assuming he didn’t donate the beer.”
“He did not,” Shelby confirmed. “But he did agree to split the profit fifty-fifty with the town.
I think it was a good move on Gus’s part from a PR standpoint. The Roundup is beginning to get
a reputation as a dive bar. There has been pressure by some local groups on the town to try to
clean up those sorts of places, so doing something to demonstrate that the Roundup is as
community-minded as any other business in town likely went a long way toward getting the
town’s watchdogs off its back.”
I supposed that doing something that at least appeared to be altruistic in nature had been a
good idea.
“Of course,” Shelby added, “I don’t think it helped Gus’s case when his new bartender got
into a fistfight with one of the food truck crew members.”
“Fistfight?” I asked.
Shelby nodded. “I’d left by the time the whole thing went down, but I heard about it from
several customers this morning. Apparently, one of the food truck crew members got ‘falling
down’ drunk, which led to him becoming more than just a little bit belligerent, so the guy serving

the beer cut him off. This led to a shouting match, which led to a fistfight, and once that started,
others joined in. Security broke it up, but I heard it was quite the show for a few minutes.”
“I’m surprised they weren’t arrested,” Georgia said.
“They probably would have been, but the guy from the food truck took off, and the beer
garden was getting ready to close. It was just agreed that everyone would go their separate
ways.”
I glanced at Georgia. She shrugged. “Do you know if the guy from the food truck was tall
with dark hair?” I asked.
Shelby frowned. “Like I said, I’d already left, so I didn’t see him. Why do you ask?”
I shared the details about the incident with the guy who stepped off the curb and walked
directly in front of my vehicle earlier today. “The guy I almost ran into was wearing a shirt from
the Guac and Roll food truck.”
“I can’t say for sure who all worked this weekend, but I grabbed a taco from the Guac and
Roll food truck earlier in the day, and the guy who served me was on the short side with very red
hair. Of course, the Guac and Roll food truck may have had other crew members who came in
for a later shift. I was there around one-thirty, and there were three guys. The guy with the red
hair who served me, the owner, Jose, and another guy who looked like a teenager, who I didn’t
recognize. The food trucks were there late, so I suppose it might be possible that the guy you saw
might have taken a late shift in the food truck.”
“The guy was totally zoned,” Georgia confirmed. “If he did show up to work, he must have
partied hard as soon as his shift was over.”
As I took a bite of my salad, Nikki stepped through the door leading to the rooftop patio and
came rushing toward us.
“I was with the beer distributor and just heard you were here,” Nikki hugged Georgia and
then turned and hugged me. “How are my niece and her mama doing?” Nikki turned her
attention to Georgia once again.
“Your niece and her mama are doing just fine.”
“And your doctor’s appointment?”
“It went well, and Doctor Chan confirmed what we both already knew.”
Nikki screeched and then hugged Georgia again. “I can’t wait for this little princess to be
born.”
“I am excited to meet her,” Georgia agreed. “But I also feel as though I need time to prepare
for full-time motherhood, so I’m glad I have another six months.”
“Nick and I were discussing girl names, and we both like Chantriel.”
Georgia paused as if to think it over. “I really haven’t had a chance to give much attention to
names, but I’ll add it to my list.”
“Dawson’s looking for you, Nikki,” Charmaine said after rejoining the group.
“I know he needed me to inventory the hard liquor delivery before I left to meet up with
Nick,” Nikki responded. “I’ll be right down. I just wanted to say hi to Abby and Georgia.”

“Is Nick still working on that business conversion he bought to flip?” I asked. Nikki’s live-in
boyfriend, Nick, made a living buying, renovating, and flipping properties. He’d most recently
purchased an old warehouse, which he was converting into four office spaces. The project had
been an extensive undertaking, but I’d heard he was about ready to list the newly renovated
office complex.
“He’s moving right along,” Nikki replied. “Over the weekend, he told me that he was to the
point where listing the property for sale was reasonable. He still has some interior work to
complete, but he’s mostly done, which is good since we could use a payday.”
“I guess that is one of the downfalls of Nick’s business. His income is pretty much feast or
famine.”
“You have that right. Luckily, I have a good job here and make good tips.” Nikki smiled at
Shelby. “And I have a wonderful boss who finds me extra shifts whenever I need them. That gets
us through the slow times.”
“With the arrival of the summer crowd, you can have all the shifts you can handle,” Shelby
assured her.
“I’ll take as many as I can get.”
Shelby smiled at Nikki, but then her smile turned to a frown as she slightly turned her head
and looked toward the horizon. “Does that look like smoke to you?”
I hadn’t noticed the plume of what definitely looked like smoke before Shelby mentioned it,
but I did see the cloud that seemed to be rapidly climbing into the sky.
“It looks like smoke from a fire,” Georgia added.
“What do you think is burning?” I asked.
“The smoke seems to be coming from the middle of town,” Shelby said. “If I had to guess,
I’d say the smoke is coming from the park or something near the park.”
“Maybe the bandstand,” Nikki suggested.
“Or one of the food trucks,” I countered. “When Georgia and I drove by the park a couple of
hours ago, I noticed the Crazy Cajun food truck was still parked at the food court. Rene has
never had a permit to sell food in the park other than during special events, but I figured that he
just hadn’t moved his food truck after the weekend event.”
“Do you think the smoke is from the Crazy Cajun food truck?” Shelby asked.
I shrugged. “I really have no idea, but the smoke does seem to be coming from the park, and
as of an hour ago, the food truck was the only structure in the park other than the gazebo, the
bandstand, and the brick building that houses the bathrooms.”
“I’m going to call nine-one-one,” Nikki said.
“I think someone already has,” I said as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.
“I’m going to call Gabby.” Usually, I’d call Colt if I wanted to know what was happening, but
since he was on medical leave for the foreseeable future, I decided Gabby Gibson, Colt’s
dispatcher, was my best bet. “Gabby, it’s Abby,” I said when she answered.
“Hey, Abs.”

While I wasn’t a fan of the nickname Abs, I let it go. “I’m at the Bistro, and we can see a fire
in the distance. Any idea what’s burning?”
“One of the food trucks that someone left at the food court after the weekend festivities.”
“Is it the Crazy Cajun food truck?” I asked.
Gabby answered. “I’m not sure. The man who called the fire in only said one of the food
trucks was in flames. I really don’t know more than that at this point.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“How’s Colt doing?” Gabby asked.
“He’s hanging in there. Listen, I need to go. Thanks for sharing what you know. I’ll stop by
later in the week and update you on the situation with Colt.”
“Thanks, Abs. I’d appreciate that. You know that I’m worried about the big guy. We all are.”
“I know, and I know that he appreciates it.”
I hung up and looked at the others. “Gabby said the smoke was from a food truck fire. The
only food truck left in the park when Georgia and I drove by was the Crazy Cajun food truck, so
I’m fairly sure it’s Rene’s.”
“I wonder how it started,” Nikki commented. “I doubt the guy decided to open the food truck
for business without a weekday permit.”
“Maybe something had been smoldering for a while, or perhaps someone noticed that the
food truck had been left behind and decided to tamper with it,” I suggested. “I’m going to run by
there on my way back to the inn. I’ll text you with the details.”
When Georgia and I arrived at the park, the first thing we noticed was that the volunteer fire
department had been able to put the fire out, but not before the food truck was a total loss. The
second thing we noticed was the medical examiner’s vehicle.
“If the medical examiner is here, someone died,” Georgia said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I had the same thought. I wonder if someone was inside the food truck
when it burst into flames.”
“Alex is here. Let’s go and ask her,” Georgia suggested.
Alex Weston was Colt’s second-in-command and had taken over the lead role during Colt’s
absence.
“Hey, Alex,” I greeted the woman who was not only Colt’s co-worker but was also a close
friend. “I noticed the medical examiner’s vehicle is here.”
She frowned. “We found human remains inside the food truck once the guys from the fire
department got it under control, and we were able to take a look.”
“Who?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Alex answered. “The remains were too badly damaged to make an ID from a
visual inspection alone. I imagine we’ll know more once the medical examiner can do an
autopsy.” She looked around. “Is Colt with you, or is he at the inn?”

“Lonnie took Colt to physical therapy today, although they might be back by now if you want
to call him. If he doesn’t answer, leave a message.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.” She waved as the medical examiner motioned to her. “I need to go. I’ll
call Colt as soon as I chat with the ME.”
Since Georgia and I had been at the park, the size of the crowd surrounding the burnt-out
food truck had tripled. Given that we had a new guest checking in and there wasn’t anything we
could do other than stay out of the way, I suggested we leave. As we walked past piles of
garbage and discarded clothing, I couldn’t help but wonder what had really gone on last evening.
“There’s a whole pile of t-shirts on that table,” Georgia pointed out as we passed. “What
went on here? An orgy?”
“Given the fact there are shirts but no pants, I’m going to propose something a bit tamer.
Maybe a game of pickup basketball.”
“Shirts and skins,” Georgia said.
I nodded.
“I guess that does make more sense,” she agreed. “It was a hot day yesterday, and the
evening was warm enough for a game of shirts and skins.”

Chapter 2

By the time Georgia and I returned to the inn, Lonnie had dropped Colt off, and Colt had
spoken to Alex. It was early in the investigation, and Alex didn’t have all the details to share
with Colt, but she did have more of the story than when I’d spoken to her. Considering the rapid
rate of the spread and the intensity of the burn, there was no doubt an accelerant had been in
play. The question was whether the accelerant that had caused the food truck to go up so quickly
had been intentionally introduced or was naturally present.
“Naturally present?” Georgia asked. “What do you mean by naturally present?”
“Fuel for the generator is one accelerant that might intensify a burn while not necessarily
indicating arson,” Colt answered. “Grease from the fryer, or even fuel in the gas tank, are a
couple of others.”
“If the food truck was occupied when it burst into flames, why didn’t the guy inside use the
fire extinguisher to put it out?” Georgia asked.
“An even better question is why didn’t the guy get out when he realized it was burning too
hot and rapid to put out with an extinguisher alone?” I asked.
“We aren’t sure yet. My best guess is that the guy had been sleeping in the food truck. That
might explain why it was still at the park more than twelve hours after the event ended.
According to witnesses Alex spoke to, a group of food truck owners and crew members got
together after the event ended to play basketball, eat the leftover food, and drink the leftover
beer.”
“Abby almost hit one of the Guac and Roll food truck crew members when he walked right
in front of her SUV this morning,” Georgia informed Colt.
Colt looked at me. “He walked in front of your vehicle?”
I nodded. “Luckily, I was going slow and was able to brake on time. The guy was fine. Dazed
and confused, but otherwise totally fine.”

“It seemed as if he was either drunk or seriously hung over,” Georgia said. “He didn’t even
react when Abby came within inches of hitting him.”
“Did you notice who it was?” Colt asked.
“No,” I answered. “It wasn’t one of the regular guys. Maybe a temp or new hire for the
summer season.”
“If a bunch of the guys from the food trucks stayed after the event was over to party, then this
guy likely fell asleep somewhere and was making his way home when he almost walked into
us,” Georgia said.
“I suppose that might have been the case, but I’d like to speak to the guy.” He looked down
at the cast on his leg that extended up to his hip. “Or I guess Alex will want to talk to him.”
“All I can do is provide a description,” I said. “I’ll call Alex and describe the guy to the best
of my ability.”
“Do you think there’s any possibility that the fire was arson and not accidental?” Georgia
asked.
This time, it was Colt who shrugged. “I don’t know. I imagine we’ll have to wait and see how
the investigation goes.”
“How will you be able to figure out whether the fire was intentionally set or accidental?” I
asked.
“The fire inspector will figure it out.”
On the surface, it seemed that Colt had accepted his role as an observer in this case, given his
medical situation, but I knew him well enough to know that it dug at him not to be physically
able to do the job he’d been trained to do.
“I suppose I should get going,” Georgia said. “Tanner should be home by now, and I guess I
should probably share the ultrasound results before he hears about it from someone else,
although I think I’ll stop by the inn and check in with Jeremy first.”
“I heard you’re having a girl,” Colt said.
“How do you know that?” I asked. “You haven’t left this cottage all day except to go to
physical therapy.”
“I heard it from Lonnie, who spoke to Lacy, who had a phone conversation with Mylie, who
apparently heard the news from Shelby, who I understand you shared the news with a few hours
ago.”
I thought Georgia might be upset that word had spread so fast, but she laughed instead. “I
suppose I should have known that small-town gossip would spread even quicker than a
suspicious fire in this town.” She looked at Colt. “Do you know if Tanner knows?”
He shrugged. “No idea. While I may have been on the receiving end for a little local gossip,
I’m certainly not the sort to spread it.”
Georgia and I headed to the inn to check in with the staff. Jeremy Slater, who I guess you
could say was third-in-charge after Georgia and me, was taking care of dinner prep with the help
of my honorary daughters and employees, Bailey Sullivan and Haven Hanson.

“Where are Mylie and Danny?” I asked about Jeremy’s wife and son as I scooped Bailey’s
daughter, Hazel, up out of her infant seat for a few snuggles.
“Mylie went to pick Annabelle up from camp and took Danny with her,” Jeremy answered.
Annabelle was Jeremy’s thirteen-year-old niece, and Danny was Mylie and Jeremy’s one-year-
old son.
“Did the guest we have checking in today arrive yet?” I asked the group as a whole.
“Not yet,” Haven answered. “But her cottage is ready for her once she does arrive.”
“Mylie said our guest is an event planner,” Bailey said. “She said she’s in town for the
Patrick/McCoy wedding.”
“I heard that as well,” I agreed. Kensington Patrick was the daughter of Michael Patrick, a
wealthy real estate developer in the area.
“Mylie said the wedding will be the season’s premier event,” Bailey continued. “I heard that
she has twelve bridesmaids and an equal number of groomsmen.”
“And the guest list includes a lot of East Coast royalty, including the Havoc family.”
The George Havoc family was from old money and had settled in the Boston area
generations ago. Apparently, according to everyone who was anyone, the fact that the Havoc
family was attending the event was a huge deal.
“Piper Fairchild must be a pretty big deal in the event planning universe to be asked to plan a
wedding such as the one that will take place next weekend,” Haven said. “I’m actually sort of
surprised that she’s staying here. Not that the inn and the cottages aren’t lovely, and, of course,
the view couldn’t be any better, but I’m sure someone like Piper must be used to elegant five-star
service, and we’re more about cozy, family, and relaxation than five-star elegance.”
“Maybe she likes cozy, family, and relaxing,” I said. “Just because Ms. Fairchild plans fancy
events doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate something a bit more relaxed during her personal
time.”
“I guess that’s true,” Haven acknowledged.
“I should get home,” Georgia announced. “Tanner is likely waiting.”
“Wait. The doctor,” Bailey said. “How was your appointment? Did you have your
ultrasound?”
Georgia smiled, clearly embracing the change in topic. “I did.”
“And?” Haven asked.
“A girl, as I’ve been saying all along.”
Bailey and Haven both squealed as they crossed the room and hugged Georgia.
I looked at Jeremy. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I heard about the ultrasound results from Mylie, but she made me promise not to say
anything to anyone until Georgia made her announcement.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Haven accused the man who was like a big brother to her
and Bailey. “But I am glad we heard it from Georgia.”

Georgia went over all the details with her fellow staff members, and then she announced that
she really did need to leave, which she did. Shortly after she left, I heard a car pull up in front of
the inn. We only had one guest checking in today, so I assumed it was Piper Fairchild, but I
supposed it also might have been a guest who’d stayed over returning from town.
“I’ll get it,” I said, handing Hazel to Bailey. I looked at Jeremy. “If I need help with luggage,
I’ll call you.”
No one argued with my right to meet our guest since I was, after all, the inn’s owner, but that
didn’t keep the three of them from poking their heads into the dining room, which looked
straight through to the lobby.
Piper Fairchild was gorgeous. The woman’s frame was fit and petite, and her engaging smile
accented her dark hair, dark eyes, and olive complexion. When I entered the lobby, she smiled
and set her bag down.
“I’m Piper Fairchild.” She held out a hand in greeting. Her long dark hair draped over her
right arm as she looked to her left. “And this is Penelope.”
I smiled at the friendly-looking dog, who was smaller than my cat, Rufus. “And I’m Abby
Sullivan. What sort of dog is Penelope? She’s adorable.”
“Penelope is a teacup Havanese.”
“She’s so tiny. How much does she weigh?”
“Four to five pounds, depending on how many treats she’s been able to negotiate.” Piper bent
down and picked her up. The tiny dog wiggled her entire body as she plastered her human with
doggy kisses.
“Do you carry her in a purse?” I wondered. All my animals were much too large to carry in a
purse, but I’d often thought it would be fun to have a small dog you could take everywhere.
“I do carry Penelope in a purse at times. I take her with me where I can, and since I tend to
walk faster than she does, I often carry her.” She kissed the dog on the top of the head and set her
back on the floor. “Penelope and I are very grateful you allow dogs in your cottages. Kensington
told me that I could stay with her and bring Penelope with me when I voiced my concern about a
dog-friendly hotel, but I know Kensington’s mother well enough to know that she would only
have given Kensington grief over her invite.”
“We’re happy to have you. We have several animals living at the inn. It might be a good idea
to introduce Penelope around later.” I looked into the tiny dog’s immense eyes. “How do you feel
about big dogs?”
“Penelope is fearless and won’t mind a big dog as long as the big dog is okay with her,” Piper
answered on Penelope’s behalf.
“Ramos is my business partner, Georgia’s, dog, and he’s a real sweetie. Even though he
weighs almost two hundred pounds, he’s a gentle giant.” I glanced at Penelope again. “How do
you feel about cats?”
“Penelope is good with cats,” Piper assured me.
“That’s good since my cat, Rufus, is convinced he owns the place.”

“Rufus and Ramos are both lucky to live here.” She looked around. “You have a lovely inn.
It’s so quaint and cozy while being modern at the same time. When Kensington recommended it,
I wasn’t sure that being so far out of town would be the best choice, but Kensington knows me
well and had known that I’d need somewhere to get away from the hectic pace of the whole
thing.”
Expressing happiness about being away from the hectic pace of the wedding activities was an
unusual sentiment for an event planner to convey, but I didn’t say as much. “Do you often do
events as large as the Patrick/McCoy wedding?”
She paused and then answered. “As large as, yes, but as highly publicized, not really. At least
not on my own. My employer is an event planner, but I’m part of a team and mostly follow
directions given to me by others. Kensington’s wedding is the first large event I’ve been involved
with without a team.” She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “There are going to be a ton
of press in attendance. I really want it to be perfect.”
“Wow,” I said. “I imagine this is a big event to have been your first solo event. Did you know
Kensington before she hired you to plan the wedding?”
She nodded. “Kensington and I went to the same all-girls high school. She attended because
her family was wealthy and she had, in fact, attended fancy private schools since the beginning. I
attended because my mother worked in the school cafeteria, and the children of full-time school
staff were allowed to attend for free.” She smiled. “Even though I knew my mom had sacrificed
a lot so I could get a top-rated education, I was terrified to attend that school. I didn’t know
anyone and didn’t live in the same part of town as the others, but then Kensington walked over
and introduced herself on the first day of school. She offered to show me around and introduce
me to the other students, and we’ve been friends ever since. When she asked me to personally
plan her wedding all on my own, I felt I owed her, so I agreed. But to tell you the truth, I’ve been
a nervous wreck ever since.”
I imagined planning a wedding like the Patrick/McCoy wedding was a huge deal, even for a
seasoned event planner. If Kensington grew up with money, she must have worked with dozens
of event planners in one capacity or another. I couldn’t help but be surprised she’d asked Piper to
take on such a huge responsibility. Of course, I didn’t say as much since it was clearly none of
my business.
“I have you in a cottage as you requested. The cottage is a one-bedroom near a seasonal
pond. I hope that will be okay.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“I’ll help you with your luggage, and I can call someone to help us if you have more than the
two of us can handle.”
She smiled. “I have a trunk full of bags, but at this point, I’m only planning to bring these
two small bags in.”
I glanced at the two small bags near her feet. “Okay, then. If you follow me, I’ll take you to
your cottage.”
Once I’d delivered Piper to her cottage, I took a moment to explain about meals and the
weekend events, even though it seemed unlikely that Piper would have time to attend any of the
events with what I assumed was a hectic daily schedule given that the wedding was on Saturday.

I asked if she had any questions, and she asked about a florist. She’d already ordered flowers that
would be flown in for the wedding, but Kensington had ordered some extra bouquets for close
friends and family members who weren’t actually in the wedding party. I suggested that she talk
to Marnie and Cricket, and after thanking me, she assured me that she would.
After Piper was settled, I wandered back to the inn. Jeremy had the food for dinner prepped,
so he had returned to the carriage house to check in with Mylie, and the girls and Hazel were
enjoying the sunny afternoon beneath a large patio umbrella on the patio. Although running an
inn that was open to guests up to three hundred and sixty-five days a year wasn’t an easy
undertaking, I really did have the best team, and when we approached the tasks that needed to be
done as a team, it made the whole thing much easier and more efficient.
“So, how did she seem?” Haven asked the minute I sat down in a chair at the table Hazel and
the girls occupied.
“She was very nice. Down to earth even. Apparently, while she does, in fact, work for a large
event planner in New York, she has never taken the lead on a project like the Patrick/McCoy
wedding. Piper told me that the only reason she’s doing the event is because she’s old friends
with Kensington Patrick, and Kensington asked her to do it. She shared that she agreed because
she felt like she owed her.”
“Wow,” Bailey said. “That must be incredibly stressful. I mean, this event is a huge thing.
The press will hover around town from the rehearsal dinner on Friday through the wedding and
reception on Saturday. If Piper messes something up, it will likely be discussed on the six
o’clock news or on social media at the very least.”
“I agree it does sound stressful, and I could sense that Piper is stressed, but she seems to feel
like she owes a debt to Kensington, which she very much wants to repay.”
“What sort of debt?” Haven asked.
“Friendship.”
Both girls agreed that they understood how one could feel indebted to someone who had
shown them kindness when no one else had.
The girls and I chatted a while longer, and then I announced that I was heading back to the
cottage to check in with Colt. Since I could sense that being independent was important to him, I
tried to give him space and not to hover since he’d been here, but I also tried to be around should
he need something. I knew the healing process would be much slower than he’d anticipated, and
I suspected that as time went by, he would likely try to do things for himself before he was really
ready. The last thing I wanted him to do was to unwind some of the progress he’d made. ...