“And a magnet for sneaky camera people.” Harlow pointed out the contraption sitting on the man’s shoulder. “I guess the news people plan to hang around.”
“Seems like you’re a popular subject.”
“Always,” she sighed. “Thanks again for removing the tick.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” He motioned to his work truck. “You want to toss your bike in the back and let me give you a lift home?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I could use the exercise and fresh air.”
“Suit yourself.”
Harlow walked her bike to the end of the driveway and watched him climb in. “So, the complaint is history.”
“As good as gone.” He gave her a thumbs up. “When are you leaving again?”
“In about a month. Hopefully, the renovations will be partially done. If everything goes as planned, by the time I come back, I can pack my bags and move in.”
“I’m sure your dad will be sad to see you leave.” Caleb shut the door and rolled down the window. “Did he show you the pin we found in the fireplace?”
“Yeah. It’s a weird spot for someone to throw it away.”
“I’m sorry we’re not having much luck figuring out what happened the night of the fire.”
“I’m not ready to give up.”
“Neither am I.” He started the truck and shifted into drive, still keeping his foot on the brake. “About our future date.”
“Go.” She jabbed her finger toward the road.
“I’m outta here.” Caleb hit the gas. With his window down, he hollered something as he drove off.
Harlow couldn’t be certain, but it sounded a lot like,I’m not giving up on you either.
Chapter 10
As soon as Harlow arrived home, she went straight to Aunt Birdie’s RV. She noticed her aunt moving around inside, flitting from one end to the other.
Harlow gave the door a light rap.
Birdie appeared. “Hello, Harlow.”
“Hey, Aunt Birdie. Got a minute?”
“Sure. I’m still packing, so if you don’t mind me buzzing back and forth, I would love a little company.”
She climbed the steps and closed the door behind her. Piles of clothes covered every square inch of counter space, which wasn’t a lot considering there wasn’t much to begin with. The back of the sofa, from one end to the other, was decorated in an array of blouses—sleeveless, quarter-sleeve, button-downs, and T-shirts. On the bench were shorts and capris.
“A sign of a seasoned traveler…mixing and matching your wardrobe,” Harlow said.
“Cuba will be warm this time of the year. I’m trying to be careful and not overpack but also know laundry facilities will be few and far between, so I don’t want to run out of things to wear.” Birdie picked up a stack of undies. “Including clean underwear.”
Harlow perched on the edge of the dinette bench and watched her transfer the clothes from the couch to her suitcase. “Are you sure you want to go to Cuba?”
“Positive.” She cast her niece an over-the-shoulder glance. “You’re worried.”
“Absolutely. It’s the lack of basic necessities…clean water, safe food, reliable electricity. This gives roughing it a whole new meaning.”
“I’m fully prepared for hardship.” Aunt Birdie placed another outfit on top of the growing pile before giving Harlow her full attention. “I appreciate your concern. David has voiced his concerns as well. It’s hard to explain how strongly I feel about this trip, about helping others.”
