Page 52 of Echoes at Driftwood Cottage

“Okay, smartass. Lavender and orange blossom it is. I’ll walk you through the steps. After that, the pressure’s on you to get it right.”

Chapter Thirteen

Over the next week, Rowan worked side by side with Daniel. She was surprisingly good at making waffle cones and even better at whipping up sugar cones using Mamie’s old-fashioned recipe. They got into a routine, arriving at the store by eight and working together on various flavors until the store opened.

Daniel had changed the store hours, deciding to open at eleven and close at seven. He felt eight hours allowed the town ample time to grab their ice cream fix. It wasn’t that different than serving customers from noon until nine. Except this way, he got to relax in the evening with Rowan.

And since Kiki had decided to stay indefinitely in Big Sur—giving her notice via text message—Daniel had never felt better about locking the doors and heading home come seven o’clock.

Switching between houses, they settled into a nightly ritual where they took turns preparing dinner, alternated listening to each other’s music to unwind, made love almost every night, and never seemed to run out of conversation.

Sometimes they spent the evenings going through Lynette Dewhurst’s unorganized mess of papers. It took them three nights before they finally discovered anything that threw up a giant red flag.

After working all day, they sat on the floor, cross-legged, sifting through the stacks of files, when Daniel came across a bone-chilling piece of paper. There, in black and white, was an official death certificate. “Um, Rowan, you’d better take a look at this.”

“What is it?” she asked absently, rummaging through another pile of papers.

He passed the document over to her. “It’s in your name issued November 30th, 1999, three days after a four-year-old female child died from a fall ruled an accidental death by the coroner. Look at where it happened.”

“San Mateo County, not Santa Cruz,” Rowan muttered, reading each line. “Well, that’s weird. The child died in Redwood City, not here in Pelican Pointe. Is this the child in that grave, Daniel? It has to be, right?”

“That would mean there were two Rowan Avery Eatons, born on the same day, in the same year.”

“Right. Because this Rowan is alive and still kicking. It’s surreal staring at a death certificate that says I died when I was four. It gives me the willies.”

“It’s bizarre, to say the least.”

“The home address isn’t even listed as Pelican Pointe,” Rowan pointed out. “The accident occurred at a house.”

“Is that important?”

“All I remember is living in a string of crappy apartments or rundown motels with Gwynn. So, yes, I think it’s significant that the child died inside a house, not Driftwood Cottage. Do you think Gwynn could’ve killed her daughter in Redwood City and her parents helped cover it up?” Rowan asked.

“Anything’s possible.”

“I need to show this death certificate to Brent and Eastlyn. I need those DNA results to show up.”

Daniel shifted his legs and stared over at Rowan. “Did you check the mail today? Because I forgot to check mine.”

“No,” she admitted, sitting up straighter. She got to her feet fast and darted to the front door. After reaching into the mailbox on the left side of the porch, she removed two handfuls of mail and came back into the living room carrying an armload of junk and advertisements.

“How long has it been since you’ve checked your mailbox?”

Rowan shrugged. “A couple of days. Okay, maybe a week. We’ve been busy.” But she dropped the mail onto the coffee table and sat down on the couch so she could sort through the clutter and pick out the envelopes. She held up one with the lab’s return address on it. “Here. This is it. I’m nervous, Daniel.”

“Just rip into it. If you got yours, mine’s probably at the house, too.”

She glanced up at his face and saw the eagerness written there. “I have an idea. Let’s run and get yours first and open them together.”

Touched by the gesture, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Let’s do it before I have time to change my mind. I’m getting anxious and apprehensive at the same time.” After scooping up their cell phones and taking the death certificate for safekeeping, they hurried out the backdoor, across the yard, and down the alleyway to Daniel’s place, Rowan following behind him still clutching the envelope from the lab.

But when they got to the patio, Daniel saw an opening in the back door. He held up a finger to his lips and pointed, mouthing the words, somebody’s inside.

Rowan's heart skipped a beat. Her fingers wrapped around Daniel’s arm in a vise grip. They both stood frozen in place for a moment, trying to listen for any movement inside the house.

They heard footsteps getting closer and then backtracked in retreat.

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