Page 9 of Hide Me Darling

"I appreciate that," I say. "I'm sure I'll be in touch."

With the keys in hand, I step back outside. The sun is climbing higher in the sky, casting a golden glow over the beach and the shops. This island, with its picturesque charm, is going to be my new home for the next few weeks. And with it, the hope of finding some answers.

Maybe even some peace.

From what I can tell, pretty much everything is walking distance, but the address of the house I’m renting is the furthest from the main part of town. I decide to take a stroll through the area first to get a lay of the land before heading up to the house. The air is filled with the salty tang of the ocean, and the sound of seagulls mingles with the chatter of tourists. The strip of shops is bustling, offering everything from souvenirs and beachwear to quaint cafés and seafood restaurants.

As I wander, I make mental notes of places that might be useful or interesting later on. There's a small grocery store, a bookstore that looks like it could hold some hidden gems, and a charming bakery with a tempting display of pastries on the further side.

The pastries and coffee smell too appealing to pass up, so I push through the door and into the warm space. The aroma is divine, and I immediately feel more at ease. The bakery is at the end of the shops, away from the hub of tourists, and I'm happy to see that it isn't as busy as some of the other cafés. The few patrons inside look more like locals, chatting quietly among themselves.

Behind the counter stands a beautiful blonde woman. She’s wearing a pretty green wrap dress that accentuates her curves, drawing attention to her figure. I’m sure her looks work in her favor when she does get any tourists down this way. But it's her peculiar hazel eyes that truly catch my attention. The bold colors in them don't detract from the fact that underneath that pretty smile lurks something not quite so friendly.

Or maybe I’m seeing things because of the people I am used to in the city.

“Hey there, hun! What can I get for ya?” she asks, her voice warm and welcoming.

“Hi,” I reply, trying to shake off my unease. It’s hard to explain sometimes, but it’s like the shadows that live under my skin know when they are in the presence of others. It’s as if there is a tug in that direction, no matter how firmly I try to keep my feet planted. “I couldn’t resist the smell. What do you recommend?”

She beams, a touch too eagerly. “Our croissants are a must-try. Fresh out of the oven. And the coffee is excellent, if I do say so myself.”

“I’ll take one of those croissants and a coffee, then,” I say, smiling back.

As she moves to prepare my order, I glance around the small space. It’s cozy, with wooden tables and chairs, and walls adorned with cheerful artwork and photographs. A small bulletin board near the entrance catches my eye, filled with local announcements and flyers. It might be worth checking out later for any useful information.

“Here ya go,” she says, handing me a plate with a croissant and a steaming cup of coffee. “Enjoy!”

I thank her and find a seat by the window where I can watch the world go by as I eat. The croissant is indeed delicious, buttery and flaky, and the coffee is just what I needed.

As I savor the last bite of my croissant, the woman comes over, her smile warmer this time. "Need another coffee?" she asks, noticing my empty cup.

I glance down, realizing I finished the coffee without noticing, distracted by watching people outside. Grinning, I reply, "Yes, please. I think this is going to be my new favorite go-to every morning."

Her smile widens, becoming more genuine. "Are you visiting for long?"

I nod and glance back out at the passing people, concocting a story on the fly. "Yeah, I just rented one of the houses closer to the forest. Thought I would see if I liked it here before settling permanently."

Her face lights up with excitement. "You're renting the old Baker house? You should have said something and I wouldn't have charged you the tourist tax," she says with a laugh.

I glance at the couple of other people still at their tables, but she just laughs and waves a hand. "They're locals, hun, don't stress your pretty head. I'm Allegra, by the way. Welcome to Amity Island."

I smile back, feeling a little more at ease. "I'm Taylor."

"Nice to meet you, Taylor," she says, refilling my coffee cup. "If you need anything or have any questions, just let me know. I pride myself on knowing all the good gossip around town. Almost all the locals come here at some point during the day."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really? So, you’re the person to talk to if I want to know anything about anyone?"

Allegra chuckles, her hazel eyes glinting with amusement. "Absolutely. This island might seem quiet, but there’s always something interesting going on. And I hear things." She taps her ear as if I didn’t know that's where we processed sound. It makes me feel included in an odd way.

"Good to know," I say, taking a sip of my freshly poured coffee. "I might just take you up on that offer."

She leans against the table, her demeanor friendly but with a hint of something more as her voice lowers to a whisper. "You do that. People come to Amity Island for all sorts of reasons. Some are just passing through, but others are looking for something. It’s the ones who are looking that usually have the best stories."

"I guess we’ll see what kind of story I end up with," I reply, glancing out the window at the bustling street.

"Indeed," Allegra says, straightening up. "Enjoy your coffee, Taylor. And welcome again to Amity Island."

As I sip the fresh cup I can’t help but appreciate how good it tastes. Once I’ve had enough of the people watching, I glance back around the room. A flyer on the bulletin board catches my attention.

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