“Thanks, I inherited it from my stepmom. She almost ran over my dad in it on her first day at work.”
“What?” she cries, falling back against the white leather seat.
“Brakes went out. Luckily, she wasn’t going very fast.” I think about the story my parents tell all the time of my stepmom’s first day back in Eureka, working with my dad. “She was also blasting Shania Twain music with the windows down, so they heard her coming.”
Gina laughs. “You’ll have to play some for me when we get back. I’ve been dying to hear Ladybird howl.”
“It’s pretty funny.” I glance at her with a grin, the tension leaving my chest.
I was worried she was mad at me last night. I’m glad to see she’s not.
“I almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up like that.” I nod at her power suit. “You look like the CEO of Dog World.”
That makes her snort. “Dog people take these shows very seriously. We’re all expected to look the part.”
“I’m not sure what the part is, but you look great.” I give her a teasing wink.
“Thanks.” Her nose wrinkles as she glances out the window shyly.
When my eyes return to the road, I have to slam onbrakes. All the cars ahead of us have come to a complete stop, and I see flashing blue and red lights stretching far in front of us.
“What the hell?” I look around at cars slowly pulling off onto the shoulder and heading back in the direction we came.
“Let me text Aunt Raven and see if she can help us.” Gigi has her phone out, thumbs flying over the screen.
“Who’s Aunt Raven?” I glance over at her.
“Haddy’s mom is chief meteorologist for KCLA. It’s one of the TV stations in town.”
Squinting, I look up at the sky. “I don’t understand. Are you expecting rain?”
“She’s also on the traffic desk. She’ll let us know…” A few seconds pass, and Gigi’s shoulders drop. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“The bridge up ahead is closed. Aunt Raven says a semi-truck carrying a load of down pillows flipped. Feathers are everywhere, and all southbound lanes are closed for cleanup. That’s why everyone’s turning around. She says we can drive three hours out of the way, or we have to try and get a room at one of these motor hotels before they’re all gone.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. Turning the wheel, I do a hard U-turn on the shoulder and drive quickly to the last exit we passed.
“She said there’s a cute little motor lodge just off the road ahead called Delve Inn. Supposedly it has four stars, and visitors call itquirky.” She frowns. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Four stars is good, though.”
Worried green eyes meet mine. “I hope so.”
I follow the road, and sure enough, after a few miles wespot a long, beige motel off to the right. A neon-lit sign above reads Delve Inn, and it looks like something out of an old movie or on Route 66.
“Quirky is right.”
Gina’s brow furrows. “It looks like the set ofPsycho.”
“I don’t like the look of that.” I nod at all the cars crowding the parking lot. “Did she say if there was anything else?Psychoor not, we might be lucky to get a room.”
“Just be cool.” Her voice is low. “I’m prepared to turn on the puppy-dog eyes if I must.”
That makes me chuckle, and I pull up to the first cottage, which has a door markedOffice.We step into a small, pine-scented room with a slim guy dressed in a beige corduroy blazer behind the desk. He’s even chewing gum, which is starting to creep me out.Psychois right, and it’s freaking October on top of it.
“Hi, there,” Gina says brightly. “I’m Gina Bradford, and this is Owen.”
