Teddy stifled a giggle, unable to imagine how “very annoyed” could be different from regular Maxine.
“Well, I didn’t have time to actually try and figure out how to get the real light working—even if it was still possible,” Oscar replied. “Plus, one hand was pretty much out of commission. But I had the flashlight in my pocket, and I knew that even a small light would be reflected eighty times its actual illumination behind those Fresnel lenses, so I used that. It was easy to flip it on and off to do the SOS.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but Teddy noticed his cheeks were a little ruddy.
“It wasbrilliant,” she said. “That’s what ultimately brought help. By the time we got off the lighthouse and came down to find Misty out cold on one of the landings, the Coast Guard had already called Joe Cap because they recognized the signal was coming from the lighthouse. He’d just reached Oscar’s stuck Jeep when we called in ourselves.”
“So what was the deal with the green and blue boat? Did that have anything to do with this whole mess?” Declan asked.
“Yes,” Oscar said. “But only that first day. Misty and Rob had figured out the basic location of the shipwreck, and they were dropping off some supplies to mark off the location underwater. Tape and stakes and some other tools that would help them in their dive. Apparently it was too heavy and bulky to try to bring down there from a shore dive.”
“What I don’t understand,” said Orbra, refilling their pots with hot water, “is why it took them so long. Didn’t Stuart Millore die three years ago? Why did they just get started now?”
“Well, once they realized the diary entry was a good indication of the basic area where the ship went down, they still had tofindit,” Teddy said. “And in order to find it, they had to have money for equipment. So it took them a while to gather up the funds, and then even longer for them to dive. And you can’t really dive in Lake Michigan from October through April, even with a wetsuit.”
“Well, that’s one hell of a story,” Maxine said. “Good thing I told you how to make the lantern light work, there, young man. Or you’d probably not be sitting here.”
“Right,” Oscar replied with a grin twitching his mouth. “I appreciated your instructions when we were up there that day.”
Maxine whipped a sharp look at him. “You aren’t patronizing me are you, there, young man?” Her dark eyes were sharp and eagle-like.
“No, of course not. If you hadn’t given me a lecture—I mean, all the information—about how to make the light go on, I probably wouldn’t have thought to try,” Oscar said quickly. His face was a little ruddier now.
Teddy chuckled. “Between Oscar’s quick thinking and Stuart Millore’s ghost, I’d say everything worked out as well as it could.”
Conversation went on to other things, and just as Teddy was about to rise to leave, Iva said, “Wait a minute there, dear. I have a book I’d like you to sign.”
“Me too,” said Leslie eagerly, sliding her chair over next to Iva and Teddy. She dug in her bag and produced an old, well-read paperback novel.
Iva did the same with a different paperback not quite as worn and creased. Both covers, though different, were decorated with lurid golds, pinks, and shiny metallic foil.
Now it was time for Teddy’s face to turn a little warm. “Oh.” She didn’t look at Oscar.
“What’s this going on here?” Maxine snatched up Leslie’s book and read, “Love’s Forbidden Caress? By Theodora Mackenzie.” She swept those eagle eyes up to Teddy as Juanita snatched up Iva’s book. “You write this, missy?” Before Teddy could reply, Maxine said, “Looks damned good. Nice and sexy. You got any more of them?”
“That one’s about a blacksmith,” Iva said. “It’s one of Leslie’s favorite books—and I’m certain part of the reason she fell head over heels for Declan here. This one here—mine—that one’s about a grumpy duke who falls for a sassy governess. They’re bothverysexy, but also funny and suspenseful. And romantic.” Her eyes turned a little misty. “It reminds me of when my dear Hollis and I— Well, never mind.” She looked at Teddy. “You’ll sign them, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Teddy said, using the opportunity to dig in her bag for a Sharpie instead of looking at Oscar. Not that she really cared what he thought about the fact that she’d written some romance novels, but he was, after all, a scholar. A PhD at Princeton. And…well, he’d just have to deal with it. She glanced up at him once she had the Sharpie, and to her surprise, he didn’t seem the least bit shocked or otherwise put off by the knowledge.
“How did you—uh—figure it out?” she asked Iva as she signed her pen name.
“I’m a librarian, dear. I know everything.”
* * *
The next day, Teddy and Oscar made their final trip to the hot springs.
“It’s only fitting that we end our little sojourn here the way we began it, don’t you think?” Teddy asked as she slipped into the pool. “Mmmmm.”
“Definitely.” He climbed in next to her, his bandaged wrist wrapped in plastic to protect it from the water. “So,” he said, lounging back against the rocky wall, “you write romance novels too?”
“I knew this was coming.” She sighed, tipping her head back so the cool water from the small falls dampened her hair.
“What was coming? I think it’s interesting and laudable that you can write in two different genres.”
Teddy’s eyes popped open and she sat up abruptly. “You do?”
“Well, yes. They’re very different styles of writing.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes. And…?”
