Chapter One
SHAY
THE HALLWAY IS too narrow for this many bags.
“Second door on the right!” One of the elderly B&B owners stands at the end of the hallway behind me.
“Second door on the right,” I call back.
I’d smile at her, but my hands are full, and my back faces her.
“Second on the right,” my best friend quips in my ear, through the phone wedged between my shoulder and cheek.
“Can you not?” I hiss at her, catching the bag sliding down my shoulder and gripping it in place.
“It’s nice of them to make sure you get to your room.” Tess’s coffee grinder buzzes sharply in my ear, then cuts off. “It saves me from worrying all weekend about you being safe since you’re stranded in some town where everyone in the diner goes quiet when you walk in.”
“I’m in a small southern town where I’m sure everyone knows everyone. I’ll be fine.”
“Stupid broken-down car,” she mutters.
I pass the first door, marked by a sign carved with the word “Office.”
“Second door.” The second voice is husky and low, belonging to the woman’s sister.
Wanda?
Wendy?
No. Wilma?
Yes. It was Wilma, the sister wearing the blood-red western shirt that matched her suede Stetson.
It’s a statement outfit, but it can’t compete with her sister’s Valentine-themed Kentucky Derby hat and tea dress.
What was her name?
Fiona?
Freya?
No. Faye?
Yes. It was Faye.
And can one person wear a thousand hearts? Because Faye comes pretty damn close. The hearts springing from her hat alone have to number near a hundred, and that doesn’t include her tea dress sprinkled with mini embroidered hearts.
“Got it.” I hope they take the hint and go, but even knowing them only long enough to check in, I doubt they pick up on hints—or choose not to.
“She has the spark.” The light, eager whisper carries down the hallway.
I’d askwhohaswhatspark, if I cared, which I don’t because everything has gone wrong since I left my apartment.
Dropped my earbuds in my coffee.
Lost cell phone service in a dead zone.
Then got lost in the dead zone.
