It was time for my lunch with Jessie. I was not only dying to see her but also eager for a break from the Internet. I hoped that an hour or so away would allow me to return to the research with a fresh eye.
The restaurant was only a short distance from the hotel so I set out on foot, checking a couple of times over my shoulder. All I noticed were people who appeared to be off-season tourists or locals in a hurry, dashing out to lunch themselves or running errands during the workday.
I was the first to arrive. I was glad I’d requested a table outside because the sky above was bright and cloudless, and the soft breeze felt good on my skin. The lake was speckled with sailboats and powerboats, and off in the distance I saw bunches of people filing up the ramp of theMinne Ha Ha.
Two minutes later, Jessie came striding across the weathered wooden deck. Her glossy brown hair flowed around her shoulders and bounced as she walked. Several male diners glanced in her direction, not bothering to disguise their positive assessment.
“Hey, hey,” she called out in greeting. I jumped up from the table and we embraced in a hug.
“Forgive the cliché, but you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Ditto.” She plopped into a chair across from me, beaming. “Wow, what a view. I see why people dig coming here.”
“I know. I’d love to come back one day when I have more time to enjoy it.”
“Isn’t there a scene inTheLast of the Mohicansthat takes place at Lake George?”
I nodded toward the rise at the end of the lake. “Yeah, the fort was up there. No sign of Hawkeye these days, however. I could sure use his help at the moment.”
She hooked a leg around a spare chair at the table, dragged it closer, and propped one of her booted feet on the seat.
“Tell me more about this crazy story you’re covering. I’ve been reading your posts and I’m completely hooked.”
“It got even crazier as of last night,” I said. “And sadder, too.”
I filled her in on Alice’s death, knowing that since she’d been in her car part of the morning, she probably hadn’t viewed the latest post yet.
“Oh Bailey, that’s horrible,” she said. “And what about you? Aren’t you scared?”
“Yeah, a little bit. But as long as the killer doesn’t think I’ve been tipped off to his identity, I should be okay.”
We took a moment to each order a Cobb salad and an iced tea, and then Jessie eyed me intensely.
“Have you told Beau yet? He’s not going to like this new development.”
“Actually, Beau’s been much better about the job risk issue since we talked it over this summer. The irony is that he’s in Colombia right now, and he’s been hard to reach, which has been frustrating the hell out of me.”
“Columbia, South Carolina?”
“No,South America.”
“God, isn’t that the country where people get kidnapped by drug cartels?”
“Yes, in the past, but it’s supposed to be pretty safe now. He’s been having issues with cell service, though.”
I didn’t really think that Beau had been kidnapped, but her comment had stirred my unease. I pushed it from my mind, knowing that it was useless to fret.
The waiter returned with our drinks and I seized the opportunity to shift topics.
“So how was the weekend with Jason?” I asked.
“It was really nice, especially considering I hate fishing and don’t eat trout. I guess that means I must be wild for him.”
“I’m really happy for you, Jessie. He seems like such a great person.” Her last boyfriend had cheated and lied, and I was glad she’d found a stand-up guy to replace him.
“What about you and Beau? Is he still dropping hints about marriage?”
“He told me he’s giving me time to get used to the idea before he raises it again. I’m not skittish about Beau. I just feel so gun-shy about beingmarriedagain. My first one turned into such a disaster.”
