He looked suitably impressed by the gossip, glancing up again. “Ah, well, that explains why she hires him. He’s…handy.”
She laughed, taking another look. “I’d have never guessed that. Maybe he moonlights as…an escort?”
He gave that same shrug that said nothing surprised him.
“He is dressed very nicely,” she added.
“Maybe he’s dipping into her bank account,” he speculated. “She wouldn’t be the first rich widow to be taken for a ride by a good-looking man.”
“He certainly doesn’t know his way around a toolbox,” she added, concern pressing on her heart. “Do you think he’s stealing from her? Or…what’s it called when a younger man pursues an older rich woman? Is it a crime?”
“It’s called life,” he cracked. “But if he exploited or coerced money from her, then we could get him for fraudulent inducement. But the real crime, if it happens, is that she’s dumb and, unfortunately, we don’t put people in jail for that. Or this place”—he waved toward the crowds—“would be empty.”
“So cynical,” she teased, giving him a playful elbow nudge.
“Hey, you’re the one assuming there’s a crime when a man and woman who are”—he peered up again—“maybe ten years apart in age are having dinner together.”
“True,” she admitted, taking one last look. “But I still think something’s up. I’ll have to keep an eye on him when I’m over there. What should I look for?”
He considered that as they walked. “Well, first watch for tells, like a new truck or expensive things that a handyman wouldn’t own. And see if you can find out if she pays him in cash or—this would be a major red flag—if his handyman’s talents extend to helping her with finances.”
“Oh, yes, I could see where that would be a problem.”
“Also, if he isolates her or she’s weirdly defensive about him. Those could be signs of some kind of manipulation.”
She smiled up at him. “Good thoughts, Detective.”
“Find out if he has a real job, his own place, or maybe disappears and only shows up when he needs money. Manipulators work in shadows, so shine light on him. If he’s a con artist, you’ll find out.”
“But will Fiona want to know?” she wondered.
“Hey, maybe she’s falling for the guy and wants a second chance at life.” He leaned into her. “Would that be so bad?”
She laughed as he put an arm around her and guided her through the tourists.
“Keep me posted. I love undercover work, and I’m happy to teach you my powers of observation and deduction…” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “For a price, of course.”
She slowed her step and looked up at him, feeling a smile pull. “A price? And what might that be?”
Was Peter McCarthy finally going to kiss her? Right here in the crowds at HarborWalk? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“A small price,” he said, turning her toward him and doing the knuckles-on-the-jaw thing again. Whoa, thatwasa power move.
“What is the price?” she whispered, ready to pay it.
“I want to read those diaries.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Not a chance, McCarthy. Not a stinking chance.”
Eli watched Tessa, Lacey, and Nolie doing…something…on the boardwalk. Prancing and dancing, and so much laughter, he could hear it from his comfortable seat on the deck. Nolie’s giggles carried through the air like music to accompany the evening.
He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds, awash with that peace he’d found years ago. The peace that surpassed understanding, the Bible called it.
But he understoodthispeace—there was a glow about the Summer House these days, as warm as the sun that just dipped into the Gulf.
When Crista had shown up and flung accusations, Vivien told him he’d have to build bridges to fix things. Somehow, Tessa had been the architect of this détente, or maybe it was Nolie who got the credit.
No, God got the credit, he thought with a smile. For that and many other miracles happening around him.
