Deciding she could no longer stand her obsessive thoughts, when Annie reached Edgartown, instead of heading to the ferry, she drove into the center of the village and went to John’s. It was almost noon: he might be awake, or he might not. There was a chance, however, that Abigail had made it home by now; Annie wanted—needed—to face her, hopefully in John’s presence. No matter the cost.
Squeezing into the small driveway, she turned off the ignition and went up onto the porch.
Lucy opened the door. Restless, the dog, leaped and barked and wagged his tail, as he tried to push past Lucy and give Annie a proper welcome. At least someone was happy to see her.
“Hey,” Lucy said. “Dad worked late. He’s still asleep.” She wasn’t unfriendly, though her tone was guarded.
“That’s okay. How about you? How’re you doing?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s kind of weird around here, you know?” She did not invite Annie inside.
“We could use more cookies at the Inn. I tried to make some, but they weren’t as good as yours.” It wasn’t true, as Annie had made her mother’s recipe for the sugar cookies with the dollop of strawberry jam, which the guests had seemed to love. But Lucy did not need to know that.
“Yeah. Sorry. I haven’t felt much like baking since what’sher-name got here.”
“Did you go to Illumination Night?”
“For a while. Too many people, though.” Her voice was quiet, as if she were depressed.
Annie looked around at the pretty flower boxes that Lucy had filled early in the summer but now looked dry, most of the blossoms “gone by” in the past few days. “Have you had lunch?”
Lucy shook her head.
“Want to do the Right Fork? My treat?”
“Can Restless come? Maybe he could go for a run in the field. I know a good spot that’s out of the way of the planes.”
“Sure. Let’s do it.” She decided not to ask if Abigail was home. Lucy’s reluctance was more of a concern than having a showdown. Annie cared about the younger girl too much to risk losing her as well as her dad.
In less than a minute, Lucy was on the porch with a Frisbee in one hand and Restless’s leash in the other, the metal hook safely attached to the dog’s collar. The diner was only a couple of miles out of town; not in the direction of West Tisbury and the Ag Fair, so the traffic would be blissfully light.
Chapter 15
They carried their food to a picnic table on the fringe of the airfield. Restless either didn’t notice or care that his leash was looped through the railing and he could not have chased a sea gull if one landed two feet away. He appeared content to watch the people and listen to the chatter and sniff the good scents in the air.
Lucy tucked into her blueberry pancakes; Annie had ordered a grilled steak salad but didn’t have much of an appetite.
“I know you saw the post on VineyardInsiders,” Annie finally said. “And I bet you read the comments.”
Setting down her fork, Lucy looked out to the runway where a red biplane had landed and was taxiing toward the restaurant to let the passengers off and pick up more. It was a popular activity for summer people, a chance to witness the beauty of the island from the viewpoint of an osprey.
“My dad was really upset,” Lucy said.
“I don’t blame him. But it was nothing, Lucy. I went with one of our guests—who, by the way, is a woman. I had no idea Simon would be there, let alone that he would spring from out of nowhere and clip a glow necklace around my neck. Right after he did it he laughed, then took off. The whole thing was over in seconds. Unfortunately, someone took a picture that somehow wound up looking suggestive. Chances are, the same person who took it posted it. I can’t imagine who would do that.”
Lucy shrugged. “Me, either. It’s pretty stupid. The only ones who’d be hurt by it would be you and my dad.” She took another forkful of pancakes, chewed slowly, and swallowed. “And Simon Anderson’s wife and kids.”
Annie took a long drink of her iced tea, not because she was terribly thirsty, but because she needed to process what Lucy had said. “There,” she said, “you see? He’s married. So he has no inappropriate intentions toward me.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure that’s how it always works, or if my dad would believe it, but it might help.”
“I hope he knows me better than to think I’d get involved with a family man.”
“Okay, so who took the pic and posted it?”
“I hoped you might have an idea.”
“I have a weird feeling you’re going to ask me if it was Abigail.”
