Lacey sighed and shut her laptop. “So Peter thinks he can find out more from old police files?”
“Maybe. After all, he’s a detective with the Pensacola PD. He has more access than those two do. They are clueless as to where to start and he’s…” She smiled. “Smart, handsome, and capable.”
“Careful, Mommy, your heart-eyes are showing.”
She laughed. “I do like him,” she said and thought of how many pages in her teenage diary mentioned Peter McCarthy—usually with exclamation points and hearts galore. “Maybe not in the way I did as a teenager, but…” She touched her face with a self-deprecating laugh. “I ain’t a teenager anymore.”
“You’re beautiful,” Lacey said softly, true love in her sleepy gaze. “And you’re officially divorced. That means you are free to have breakfast, lunch, or dinner with your handsome, capable detective.”
The bell chimed at the front door. Vivien exhaled, smoothing her top. “And there he is.”
She blew a kiss and stepped into the hall, pausing at the open door to the last bedroom where Crista, Vivien’s younger sister, was chatting and laughing with her seven-year-old daughter.
“We’re packing to go home, Aunt Vivien,” Nolie announced. “I’m really sad!”
“We are all sad, honey,” Vivien said, bending over to kiss her little head. On the way up, she gave a hard look to her sister. “And how are you feeling, Mama?”
Crista flushed and touched her stomach, glancing at Nolie, who still didn’t know she was going to be a big sister. “This morning? Quite good. Hope it lasts for the five-hour drive home.”
“I hope so, too.” The doorbell rang again and she gave a wave and trotted down the stairs.
At the bottom, she paused and looked around the main floor, which was nearly finished, at least from a décor standpoint.
She’d nailed this living and gathering space, and the gorgeous kitchen, she thought with pride. The only thing missing was the perfect light fixture to hang at the top of the vaulted ceiling, but the one she wanted cost an arm andtwolegs.
If they ended up keeping the Summer House, like she hoped, she could put a far less expensive chandelier in that spot. A slight disappointment, but?—
This time, he knocked.
“Someone wants to get in the front door,” her mother’s voice came from the deck, slightly harsh and demanding. Well, it was Maggie. Vivien didn’t expect sweet and gentle from that woman.
“I’ve got it,” she called back.
When she opened the front door, she greeted Peter with the same smile she wore every time she saw the man. He was so…Peter.
Strong, steady, good-looking, and now he had that glimmer in his brown eyes when he gazed at her. He liked her and she liked…the idea of him liking her.
Was that the same as just plain liking him? Oh, too much thinking for pre-coffee.
“Morning, Detective.”
He smiled at the title she always used, pulling his hands out of the pockets of his khaki pants, reaching to give her a light hug. “Morning, Viv. I was beginning to think I had the wrong beachfront mansion.”
She laughed and stepped back, letting him in. “I was upstairs. Are you ready for your next case?”
He huffed a laugh. “Since the one that brought me here is nothing but dead ends, sure. Bring it.”
She led him through the house and they stopped in the kitchen for coffee. As they did, Jo Ellen came up from the ground floor, looking wearier than when she went to bed.
Vivien slipped an arm around her. “We’ll get Crista’s room ready for you tonight,” she promised.
“I’m fine. I’d like to stay where I am.”
“Then I’m ordering some legitimate furniture for that room,” Vivien said. “Do you have a few minutes to talk to Peter?”
Jo Ellen gave him a strange look, a mix of fear and hope and even a little tenderness. “How funny to see you after all these years, Peter,” she said. “You really still look like a teenage boy to me.”
“Better upgrade your glasses, Aunt Jo,” he joked. “When I look at you, I think of mint chocolate chip ice cream. You were the one who always remembered to get me the flavor none of the other kids liked.”
