Page 35 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

One street away from his home, Levi turned the corner and heard a sound. He slowed his pace, remembering there was an alley between the two houses. He had walked this way many times and never thought much about it. Since Sawyer Grisham took over as sheriff, crime had become almost nonexistent. Although, he would have to say, there was never a time when there had been any real crime in Catalina Cove. And when rare incidents occurred, it was usually outsiders coming to the cove causing trouble. Like a couple years ago when Bryce Witherspoon had gotten kidnapped. Luckily, she’d been rescued unharmed.

He stopped walking when he heard the sound again and recognized a feminine voice calling out in a low tone. “Dad? Dad? Where are you?”

The former cop in him had him moving in that direction. That was when he saw a woman with a flashlight in her hand, scanning the area as if she was looking for something or someone. “May I help you?”

His words made her jump, and she threw her hand to her chest, nearly dropping the flashlight. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said. Fortunately, he was able to make her out in the dark because of the full moon in the clear sky and a nearby streetlamp. He knew most of the people living in Catalina Cove and she didn’t look familiar. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was on my way home and heard a sound and decided to investigate. I couldn’t help it. It’s the ex-cop in me.”

“Oh. I was looking for my father. His cat got out and when I was in the kitchen Dad left to go looking for him.”

“Let me guess. Mr. Chelsey and his cat, Butterball.”

“Yes. You know them?”

Levi barely held back a laugh. “I think everyone living in Catalina Cove does. That means you’re his daughter, Margarita.”

“Yes, I’m Margarita Chelsey Lawson, although most people now just call me Margie. And you are?”

“Levi. Levi Canady. As a teen I would cut the Chelseys’ yard during the summers. I recall they had a daughter, but you were way younger than I was.” If he remembered correctly, she was eight to ten years younger. “I didn’t know you had returned to town.”

“I moved back last month when I retired from my job as a nurse in Dallas. Dad turns eighty-four this year and I wanted to be here to take care of him.” She glanced around. “Now, if I can only find him.”

“Mr. Chelsey usually doesn’t go far in his search for Butterball. I’ll help you look.”

“I hate to cause you any bother.”

“You won’t. I have my dog, Chip, waiting at home for me, but if he needs to go out before I get there, I had one of those doggy doors installed, so he can go in and out whenever he needs to.”

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind helping me look.”

He smiled at her. “No, I don’t mind. I’ll be glad to help.”

17

Saint entered the Witherspoon Café on Tuesday morning and smiled at the waitress who greeted him. “Good morning, Saint. Sitting alone this morning?”

“No, Presley, I’m expecting someone.”

“Okay, I have a booth this way.”

“Thanks.” He liked Presley. Saint knew the main reason his mother hadn’t included Presley’s name as one of the eligible single women in town was because people knew she was still grieving the loss of her husband. The man had gotten killed in a motorcycle accident last year.

After he was seated, Presley asked, “Do you want to order now or wait for your guest to arrive?”

“I’ll wait.”

“Okay then, I’ll be back.”

When Presley walked off, Saint checked his watch. He was early. He and Zara had made plans for this week. They would meet for breakfast on Tuesday and lunch on Friday. They didn’t set a particular day to meet for dinner. They figured they could combine dinner with a night of dancing or a movie date. Their goal was to be seen together a few times during each week.

Since Vaughn was out of town for the next three weeks on the second phase of his honeymoon, there was a possibility Saint would have to work late on some days. If that happened, they would adjust their schedule accordingly.

He’d spent Memorial Day with his parents. His father had taken the grill out and Saint had helped cook the meat. Later, they had gone out on his father’s boat. His parents had been pleased that he had spent the entire day with them.

Of course, the news of his and Zara’s kiss had wasted no time reaching his mother’s ears. He wasn’t surprised, since the head bank teller at the Colfax Bank, Selma Bivens, was a friend of his mother’s. Jaye had invited the bank employees, so Selma had been at the engagement party.

Saint figured his mother would have been overjoyed with the news that he was interested in someone. She wasn’t. Although she thought Zara was a nice girl, she felt he was wasting his time dating her. To Irene Toussaint’s way of thinking, he should concentrate his time and attention on one of the women living permanently in the cove, instead of someone who was just visiting. For him to do otherwise, to her that didn’t make sense.

---