Teddy agreed, and shot to her feet so quickly that she nearly clocked him on the chin with her head. He grabbed her by the arm to steady her, and they started off through the knee-high, blade-like grass that grew in the sandy ground separating the sod and dirt from the expansive beach. The hollow, circular reeds were damp and sharp, and water sprinkled all over his jeans as he pushed through them.
Again, Teddy seemed unconcerned about the dribbles of rain. She even took off her sandals once she reached the edge of the water, holding them in her hand. “I can’t believe I haven’t walked down to the beach more than once since I got here,” she said, looking out over Lake Michigan. “I’m pitiful.”
Despite the rain, the huge body of water was relatively calm today, sending little waves curling onto the beach around her toes—which, he noticed again, had bright pink toenails. But in the distance, dark clouds were gathering. More rain would be coming—and soon.
“Well, you’ve been a little busy,” he said. “And I haven’t come down here much either. It’s such a nice view from the porch, and then I don’t get sand in my shoes—like I am now. Plus we’re getting wet.”
“It’s just a little bit of rain,” she said, smiling at him in that way of hers that made her dimples dance. “And it’s summer, so it’s not even cold.” A little droplet clung to her lashes, and another one drifted down her cheek. It looked like a tear.
He brushed it away, and their eyes met as his fingers curved under her chin. Oscar felt his heart give a good, hardka-thump, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.
He just…fell.
“I really like you, Oscar,” she said after a moment, sounding a little shaky. She reached up to tuck back that annoying curl that fell onto his forehead. Though the gentle rain muted his vision, he saw the way her blue eyes softened.
“I really like you, too, Teddy,” he replied, then bent to kiss her gently. When he pulled her into his arms, the rain didn’t matter at all.
A boom of thunder in the distance had them breaking apart, but she grabbed his hand when he would have pulled away. “We’d better finish looking around before the sky opens up. It looks pretty nasty out there.”
She tugged him along the beach—what she was looking for, he didn’t know. But he did know he liked the feel of her hand in his.
“I don’t see anything— Wait. What’s this?” He released her in order to crouch over the deep crease in the sand, stretching vertically from the water. There were footprints on one side of it. “Looks like they had a boat here—they look like the same footprints.”
“They sure do,” she agreed. “That’s how they came. By boat.”
Oscar looked out over the water. He couldn’t help remember the blue and green forty-footer he’d seen that first night—and the men dropping something overboard.
It didn’t take a genius—or the Coast Guard or Joe Cap, or even a thriller writer—to know it could be something as ugly as the part of a body…or some other package that a colleague would pick up later.
Teddy must have been reading his mind, because she said, “Remember that boat the night we were trapped up on the lighthouse? You saw them drop something over the side—right out there.”
“I know. I told Joe Cap—er, Longbow—about it the other night at the beer tasting. He said he’d look into it.”
“It was probably drugs,” Teddy said, that enthusiasm back in her voice. “I mean, what else would it be?”
Oscar couldn’t help but laugh. He caught her hand again and swung it between them as he looked at her. “It could be any number of things. Probably trash, to be honest.”
“Or a body,” she said, those eyes sparkling with excitement, raindrops on her lashes.
“So says the thriller writer,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “Let’s go back before we melt. I’ll take a few pictures for Joe Cap,” he added when she looked as if she were going to protest. “We can tell him about it when we go in to file the report. Let’s finish cleaning up inside.”
* * *
An hour later, the two of them dashed through the now-pouring rain to Oscar’s Jeep to go into Wicks Hollow.
Teddy had taken a quick shower and put her hair into a thick, loose braid, then pinned it into a knot at the back of her head. It was the only way she’d be able to keep it from exploding into frizz in the damp humidity. She wore black capris with a sleeveless pink top and hot-pink sandals that almost matched her toenails, and felt she looked much more perky than she actually was after such an eventful day and night.
“I’m starving,” she said as they approached the quaint town. It was still raining heavily, so the streets were empty of tourists and there were lots of parking places. “We didn’t have breakfast and it’s after eleven. Why don’t we stop at Orbra’s Tea House? Apparently she makes the world’s best cinnamon scones, and it doesn’t look busy.”
Oscar was amenable to this, and moments later, they surged into the tea shop with soaking umbrellas.
“T.J. Mack! Come in, come in!” The sturdy, statuesque Orbra nearly squealed as she strode from the back of the shop, drying her hands on her calico apron. “And set your umbrellas right there in the stand. Nasty day to be out and about, but you came to the perfect place. Nothing like a good cup of tea to warm the bones.”
“Bring ’em over here, Orbry,” came a gravelly voice from across the room.
Teddy’s head had been bowed against the rain and beneath her umbrella, so until she heard the peremptory voice, she hadn’t realized anyone else was in the shop.
“You sit yourselves right here,” continued Maxine Took, who’d dragged herself out of the chair she’d commandeered at the table near the largest window in the shop. She brandished her walking stick, reminding Teddy that she was going to use it to murder someone in one of her books someday. “And who’s that with you there, Teddy?” Maxine peered at Oscar from behind thick glasses.
