He stretched, arms overhead, his bones letting out a soft creak that probably started back in those Olympic days. “Youcaught me at the perfect time. Just finished the morning reports from the sleigh rides.”
“More today?”
“I’m actually free until four o’clock. Want to play hooky?” He made a face. “Do they still call it that?”
“The over-sixty set does,” she joked, sliding into the chair across from him. “Tell me about this hooky idea of yours.”
Jack closed his laptop and gave her his full attention. “You. Me. Town. Lunch. Oh, and I have a special errand to run and…yeah. I was going to surprise you, but you can come with me.”
“Surprise?” Her brows lifted. “I like the sound of that. Gracie was going to drop off a wedding tasting order, Nicole was trying to fix the twinkle lights in the Starling Room, and MJ…” She angled her head and sighed. “Honey, I’m worried about MJ.”
“Why?” He leaned forward, concern in his dark eyes.
“She’s been quiet and down, so unlike her. She hasn’t heard a word from Matt since he left.”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “He said a year in that famous letter that should probably have been a secret but we all read.”
Cindy smiled. “She might have framed it and hung it in her new apartment up on the third floor.” And that smile faded. “Which is why I’m concerned about her. Technically, that year is up on New Year’s Eve, but…” She hesitated, glancing at the snow-dusted pines outside the window. “I honestly thought he’d be back by now. I even considered sending him an invitation to our wedding.”
He raised a brow. “Would that have been wrong?”
“I don’t know.” She twisted her engagement ring absently. “MJ’s so hopeful, but what if he’s not coming back? I don’t want her heart broken all over again.”
Jack’s expression softened. “Maybe he’s just…taking longer than planned.”
“Maybe.” Cindy frowned. “I was thinking about calling that lawyer who handled everything—the trust, the checks, all that paperwork. You remember him?”
“Richard Lowe.”
“Yes. Maybe he’s heard something. Maybe Matt’s been in touch with him. Would that be out of line for me to do?”
“No.” Jack pressed his hands on the old mahogany desk. “I have an idea and, sorry, but it’s actually genius.”
She chuckled at that. “Talk to me, genius.”
“Let’s drive into town and see Richard face to face, maybe get a real sense of what he knows about Matt’s whereabouts. Then we run my secret errand and grab lunch at Kaneo.”
“You had me at secret errand, but then Kaneo? Yes, please.”
She’d barely finished and he was up and around the desk, eager to go. “I love a day off with my girl.”
As he pulled her up from the seat, she laughed and leaned into his hug. “And I love being your girl.”
Not an hour later, they were strolling down Main Street, bathed in bright Utah mountain sunshine. The air carried a crisp brightness that brought Park City alive, dressed in red bows tied to lampposts, evergreen garlands winding up porch railings, and storefront windows painted with swirling snowflakes.
Cindy loved this part of town—the historic mining-era buildings stacked along the hills, the mix of old and new everywhere.
Holding hands, they paused outside a modest brick building with a brass plaque that readLowe & Jacobs, Attorneys at Law. She and MJ had come here a few times early in the year, still dumbstruck from the gift they’d received from plumber-turned-millionaire lottery winner Graham Matthew Walker.
Richard Lowe had patiently walked them through accessing the funds that Matt had carefully protected for them. With thatjob in the past, would he know anything about his mysterious client’s whereabouts or plans?
She sure hoped so.
Inside, a young receptionist with bright red lipstick looked up and smiled. “Hi, there! Can I help you?”
Jack stepped forward. “We’re here to see Richard Lowe but we don’t have an appointment. This is?—”
“Cindy Kessler,” the woman finished.
