And she cheered.
* * *
Thanks to a lot of road construction and a bad accident on Interstate 96, it was after five o’clock when Oscar got back to Wicks Hollow. Dark clouds gathering in the west greeted him as he pulled into the village.
Since he didn’t have Teddy’s cell phone number or email or any way to contact her (except through her publisher, which he wasnotgoing to do), he needed to find out where her cousin lived—for that was where she said she’d be.
He didn’t much like the idea of having to tell her what was on his mind with an audience around, but he’d messed things up badly enough that he supposed it was part of his payback for being an idiot. Because the more he reflected on it, the more he realized that the lack of chattiness from Teddy that morning could very well have been hurt or confusion or both.
After all, if she’d sent off the book to her editor and agent, she should have been on cloud nine, with nonstop talking and celebration, dancing around the kitchen, and probably even planting a good one on his lips—and more.
Most of all, she definitely wouldn’t have waited for him to ask about it—she’d have volunteered the information.
Despite the ugly storm clouds rolling in over Lake Michigan, the streets of Wicks Hollow were filled with tourists trying to get their vacation activities in before the rain came. It took him forever to find a parking place, then he had to decide what his best strategy would be to get in touch with Declan.
It was strange, in this modern day of mobile phones, social media, and GPS, to have to think about tracking someone down a more old-fashioned—and less efficient—way.
He decided the best option would be to go into Orbra’s Tea House and see if one of the Tuesday Ladies (he still didn’t know why they were called that) would tell him how to find Declan’s house.
Fortunately, neither Maxine nor Juanita were at the tea shop when he went in there, and Orbra was so busy with the afternoon rush that she didn’t even hesitate to tell him where Declan lived.
“Little bungalow on Bell Street. Got dark red Shaker shingles and black shutters, with a white picket fence around the whole thing. His workshop is a detached garage in the back—you can’t miss it because Stephanie planted a bunch of sunflowers in the front garden and they’re taller than I am. Now, if you aren’t going to sit down and order something, you’re gonna have to shoo, because I’m backed up here.”
Oscar didn’t need to be told twice.
But when he found Bell Street and located the little house, just as Orbra described it, no one answered his knock. He even went back to the workshop, peering in the window to see whether Declan was working. Though there was a lot of heavy-duty equipment and a generous collection of iron rods and chunks, everything was dark and quiet.
Having no better idea, Oscar got back in his Jeep to wait for someone to show up.
Sometime later, a loud crack of thunder jolted him from what had been an uncomfortable sleep, slumped as he was in the half-reclined driver’s seat. He sat up and looked around blearily, discovering to his surprise that it was after seven o’clock.
Now what?No one was home; the house was still unlit and there weren’t any cars in the drive. The rain had begun to pelt down, and everything was dark—and from the looks of it, was going to get darker still. The clouds lookedugly.
Damn. For all he knew, Teddy and Declan had gone out to celebrate herreallyfinishing her book and wouldn’t be home for hours. They might even have gone to Grand Rapids, which meant they could be gone overnight.
Frowning sourly at the thought that he was missing Teddy at her most relaxed and happy, and that she was celebrating without him, Oscar started his Jeep.
And then he realized…if Teddy hadn’t really finished her book, if she’d been lying to him that morning, that meant she might not be with Declan—and was probably still back at Stony Cape Cottage.Duh.
On top of that, she wasalonein a remote place where a lot of creepy and unpleasant things had been happening.
During a terrible thunderstorm.
He fairly floored the Jeep on his way out of town.
He’d been a complete idiot.
In more ways than one.
Thirteen
Teddy gotover her mad rather quickly, all things considered, and though she still felt bruised by Oscar’s abrupt departure, she focused on the work she had to do, and that helped.
She brought her laptop and notes into the main living room of the cottage and set up at the desk there to do her final bit of work on the sixth book in the Sargent Blue series. To her relief, she finished everything just after four o’clock that afternoon.
The book was done.
She danced inside herself, wriggled on her chair, and sang, “Hallelujah!” as loud as she wanted without worrying she’d disturb any neighbors.
