“You’re right. You can never go wrong with a piece of grilled fish.” Lottie set the menu aside. “I’ll try the red snapper.”
“And I think I’ll go for a thick, juicy steak.” David set his menu on top of Lottie’s. “How is your latest project going?”
“The pieces I unearthed while wrapping up the gardening season? I turned them over to the historical society. They’re making me an honorary member because of my contributions,” she joked.
“I must admit you have a knack for finding unusual artifacts,” he said. “Speaking of findings, I ran into Caleb the other day. He thinks the fire investigator will have his preliminary report ready soon.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes, and no. I want to get to the bottom of what happened the night of the fire, but I can’t shake this feeling I might not like what he finds.”
“Because you think someone intentionally set the fire?” Lottie asked.
The conversation was interrupted when the server arrived to take their order. It resumed as soon as she walked away.
“I remember seeing a flash of bright light and hearing a clanking sound.”
“Maybe it was Ginger, not starting the fire, of course, but making the noise.”
David pondered Lottie’s suggestion. He’d had similar thoughts. Ginger had been working on a project and even mentioned it earlier that same day. When he passed by the manager’s unit, he noticed her lights were on. “It’s possible.”
“The good news is the Eastons are moving forward with the project.” Lottie sipped her soda. “I meant to ask you about your overnight visit to Easton Island. Harlow mentioned meeting Morgan Easton.”
“Although it was a quick trip, I’m glad we went. It confirmed my idea that a smaller-scale inn is what I want.”
“Less work.”
“Correct. Easier to manage, to staff, the whole shebang.”
“It also put some of Harlow’s concerns to rest,” Lottie guessed.
“It did.” David leaned back in his chair. “Morgan and Harlow are a lot alike.”
“In what ways?”
“Both are go-getters. They know what they want and aren’t afraid to go after it,” he said. “I also see a softer side. They care about their families and leaving behind a legacy.”
“From what I recall hearing, Morgan doesn’t remember her father. Her mother left Easton Island when she was young.”
“And never returned. Imagine finding out you had a grandmother and brother on an island bearing your name.”
“Inheriting properties, assets, and a future she knew nothing about. It would be shocking.”
“At least Harlow has always known who she was and where she came from.”
“I wonder why Morgan’s mother left,” Lottie mused.
“I believe it has something to do with her half-brother, Brett Easton, who is close to the same age.”
“Another woman was involved?”
“That would be my guess.”
Their food arrived—Lottie’s red snapper accompanied by roasted red potatoes swimming in a buttery garlic sauce, grilled artichokes and fresh-from-the-oven sweet rolls.
The server placed David’s plate, which looked just as enticing, in front of him. Along with his New York strip steak was a loaded baked potato, green beans and a generous side of basmati rice.
“The food looks divine.” Lottie carved out a generous piece of fish and took a big bite. She closed her eyes, savoring the creamy lemon flavor. “Cooked to perfection,” she murmured.
