The man introduced himself as Will, the Chief of Police here in Holden Beach.
“Would you happen to be kin to Drake? He was from England, disappeared for a while, then returned years later,” Will said. “Now he’s married to Mildred Merriweather.”
“Merriweather? I’m looking for a Merriweather related to Lucy Merriweather.”
Will nodded, his face sad. “Lucy and her sisters passed a while back when they went overseas. Sad business.”
He looked at them a moment, then seemed to make up his mind.
“Mildred and Drake live in a pale blue house with white trim on the beach. Turn right when you come off the bridge.”
He paused. “The only cafe on the beach is good if you haven’t had lunch yet, but turn left to go there first.”
With a smile, he said, more to himself than them. “And if you see a Cadillac speeding by, that’s probably Mildred.” He laughed.
They thanked him, and since he only had a few items in his basket whereas they had a full cart, they let him go ahead of them to checkout.
Once they were done loading the groceries in the van, Daisy started up their little home on wheels.
“We’re almost there. Are you nervous to meet them?”
“Aye. What if they think my wits are addled?”
She pulled out of the parking lot. “You know enough that I think they’ll believe you.”
Daisy touched his arm. “You can give them closure. Tell them about Lucy.”
The bridge,a marvel of modern engineering, stretched across the water, making him nervous as they drove across it.
“Look at that view.” Daisy gripped the huge steering wheel. “It’s so beautiful.”
At the end of the bridge, they turned left to go to the cafe that Will told them about. The sandy parking lot was full of vehicles. Music played out of the speakers as people sat at outdoor tables under brightly colored umbrellas to shade them from the blistering sun.
Gulls flew overhead, waiting to steal an unsuspecting patron’s meal, and there was the ocean, stretching out to meet the horizon.
It was after two, so they didn’t have to wait long for a table. Their server handed them menus with a friendly smile.
“Is he friendly?” He gestured to Frankie.
“He is.” Daisy hooked his leash around the leg of her chair so he wouldn’t try to chase any of the gulls.
The guy squatted down to pet her dog. “Who’s a good boy?”
Frankie wagged his tail, enjoying the attention.
“I’ll bring him a bowl of water and … how about a hamburger?”
“Better bring him two.” Callan grinned at the dog. “He’s verra hungry.”
“You got it.” He wrote it down on a small pad of paper. “Sweet tea while you look over the menu?”
“Sounds good.” Daisy had never had southern sweet tea and was looking forward to trying it.
After they’d perused the menu and decided what to order, she pulled out her phone to look for a campsite.
“We’re in luck. A spot opened up at the campground just down the road from here while I was looking. It’s right on the beach.”
She booked it for a week, figuring it would give them time to meet Mildred Merriweather and to enjoy the beach.
