Isabel moved to the window, looking out at the late afternoon sun dancing across the water. From this point, the view of Flathead Lake was unobstructed for miles. “What exactly are you saying?”
Kathleen set her brush down and faced Isabel. “I’m suggesting that you might be getting close to someone who could bring complications into your life. Someone who might be in a dangerous situation.”
Isabel frowned. “I’m sixty-five. I can handle some complications.”
“Isabel,” Kathleen’s voice softened. “We’re not judging Frank. We’re worried about you. Susan says corporate retaliation against whistleblowers can be brutal. And the man we saw at the diner gives me the creeps.”
Isabel thought about the man she’d seen lurking around the Lakeside Inn, potentially following Frank and Tommy or, worse yet, intimidating them. “Frank helped me when I needed it,” Isabel said firmly. “If he needs help now, I’m not turning my back on him because his life is complicated.”
Kathleen studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “You care about him.” She put an arm around Isabel’s shoulders. “Look, we’re not saying stay away from him. We’re just saying be careful.”
Isabel sighed. “We’ve all come here with things that have happened in the past. Frank will tell me if it’s something important.”
“Maybe he will,” Kathleen conceded. “But if he doesn’t, do a little prodding. You’re good at getting people to open up.”
Isabel thought about Frank. He’d seemed genuinely concerned for her yesterday, warning her to be careful around Dave. Whatever was happening, it was serious enough that he was worried about it affecting other people.
“I’ll talk to him,” she decided. “At least that way, I’ll know if he needs help.”
Kathleen squeezed her shoulder. “Good. Now, what do you think about this gray? Is it too depressing?”
Isabel laughed, grateful for the change of subject. “It’s called ‘Rainy Afternoon’ for a reason. Maybe try the ‘Morning Mist’ instead—it has warmer undertones.”
As they returned to discussing paint colors and furniture placement, Isabel’s mind kept drifting back to Frank and his troubled expression at the diner. James had worn that same look when a case was keeping him awake at night—when the stakes were high and innocent people were at risk.
Whatever Frank was hiding, Isabel suspected it was something he’d done out of principle, not malice. And if the man he’d met meant him harm, well... Dave might soon discover that Sapphire Bay wasn’t just a sleepy lakeside town.
From what Isabel had seen, it was still a community that protected the people who lived there.
CHAPTER 15
Frank drove down the winding driveway that led to Kathleen Armstrong’s new house. His truck bounced over the gravel as he approached the Victorian home perched on the point. As the late afternoon sun glinted off Flathead Lake, he sighed. Just seeing the view from Kathleen’s property lifted some of the tension from his shoulders.
He glanced at the brown folder on the passenger seat. It contained the boundary documents Kathleen had asked him to review—a simple task that was a welcome distraction from everything that was weighing on his mind. After Dave’s departure from Sapphire Bay, Frank had spent two sleepless nights debating whether to move the encrypted hard drive from its hiding place or contact Marcus about the unexpected visit.
He smiled when he saw Isabel’s rental car. He parked beside it and took a deep breath, composing himself before grabbing the folder. The last thing he wanted was to bring his problems to Kathleen’s doorstep—or worse, to Isabel.
Frank knocked on the front door, but when no one answered, he followed the sound of music toward the back of the house. The door was propped open with a paint can, so he called out as he entered.
“Hello? Kathleen? It’s Frank.”
“Hi, Frank. It’s me, Isabel. I’m in the dining room.”
He rounded the corner to find the spacious dining room covered in drop cloths. Kathleen was nowhere to be seen, but Isabel stood on a small stepladder, her back to him as she carefully painted along the ceiling line with a steady hand. She wore faded jeans and an oversized shirt speckled with pale blue paint. A casual knot held back her hair, wisps escaping to frame her face.
Frank cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt. I brought the boundary documents Kathleen asked about.”
Isabel turned, a streak of paint adorning her cheek, and smiled. That smile did something to Frank’s resolve that made him wonder just how long he could keep ignoring his feelings for Isabel.
“Perfect timing,” she said, climbing down from the ladder. “Kathleen went into town a few minutes ago for more painter’s tape and coffee. She should be back soon.” Isabel gestured around the room. “What do you think? Too blue?”
The walls were half-painted in a soft shade that reminded Frank of the lake on a clear morning. “It’s perfect,” he said honestly. “The color brings the outside in.”
Isabel beamed. “That’s exactly what we were going for.” She set her brush across the paint tray and wiped her hands on a rag. “I wanted to help Kathleen before I take over the bookstore. After that, I’ll be lucky to remember my name, let alone find the time to paint.”
Frank placed the folder on a drop cloth-covered table. “You’re a good friend.”
“I try to be.” She studied him for a moment, her expression shifting to something more serious. “Speaking of friends... is everything okay with you and Tommy? I’ve been worried since I saw you with that man at the diner.”
