Page 63 of Murder in the Lighthouse

“Me too. We could put this one against the back wall of the house to hold all the side dishes.”

After finishing their meal, they polished off the bottle of wine.

“Tonight is our very own celebration for a job well done. Just the two of us,” he explained as he poured the last drop into her glass. “How about a fire in the firepit?”

“Are you romancing me, Lucien Sutter?”

“I’m trying. You know I was never the smooth operator Dad was.”

“Says who? Have I ever complained?”

“You’re not a complainer.”

As the evening darkened, she watched him gather firewood and kindling from the stack of wood next to the house. While he built up the fire, she cleared away the dishes, making several trips back and forth to the kitchen. On each return trip, she spared a glance his way and realized this was her idea of paradise. Nothing else would ever matter as much as this time together.

Once he got the fire roaring, they huddled in the warm glow of the flickering flames that seemed to dance in time to their laughter.

They talked about their plans for the big day, discussing every detail from the menu to the seating arrangements, finding it funny when Lucien suggested seating his dad next to Maeve. “She’ll talk his ear off. It’ll drive him crazy.”

Not wanting the evening to end, they lingered outside, savoring the stillness of the night and the clarity of the stars. When the fire burned low and the temperature dropped, they finally relented and headed inside.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they strolled toward the house, their footsteps crunching on the gravel path. Pausing at the door, Lucien pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before stepping into the warmth of the kitchen. He led her upstairs to bed, the night still full of possibilities.

21

Brogan woke up late. She saw a tray beside her on the bed with a glass of orange juice, a small decanter of fresh coffee—fixed the way she liked it—and a croissant with a note that read, “After last night, this should be enough to get you going. Breakfast is pancakes. Come down when you’re ready.”

She munched on the croissant, downed the orange juice in one gulp, and started on the coffee before heading to the shower. After toweling her hair dry, she pulled on a chunky ribbed knit sweater in tan and a pair of her softest jeans that she could wriggle into. After spending fifteen minutes fiddling with her hair, she headed into her office to check her work emails and noticed Professor Lockney had sent her an update. She had to read it twice before the information sunk in.

“I have a surprise for you,” Amalie wrote. “I think I’ve found your birth mother. More verification is needed, but I’m sure thisBritta is the right one. Everything fits, including the modeling contract she signed when she was sixteen. If it’s okay, I want to stop by your house this afternoon and walk you through everything I discovered. It’s a lot to process. Make sure Lucien is with you for support. Fingers crossed that the confirmation comes back clean.”

Brogan didn’t wait to type an email response. She picked up her cell phone and sent Amalie a text message.Yes. Absolutely. This afternoon is perfect.

Great. How about four-thirty? Could you send me directions to your house?

Sure. No problem.

Elated, Brogan launched MapQuest on her phone, keyed in the starting point and destination, selected the best route from Santa Cruz, and copied the link to share with the professor. After rushing off the directions, she darted downstairs to tell Lucien the news.

The dogs greeted her at the foot of the staircase, following her all the way to the kitchen. He had already started the pancakes and brewed another pot of coffee. The rich aroma recharged her as she set the tray on the island counter and wrapped her arms around Lucien. “Amalie found my birth mother.”

“What? You’re kidding?”

“It’s true. I can feel it. She found Britta. She’s stopping by this afternoon at four-thirty to lay it all out for me.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. I thought it might take longer.”

“Me too. She told me to make sure you were here.”

Lucien frowned. That sounded like bad news to him. But he didn’t want to dampen her excitement. “I hope you’re hungry.”

She laughed, feeling a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with hot pancakes and syrup. “Starving, actually.”

As they ate breakfast, Brogan’s mind raced with questions and emotions. She rattled on about what news Amalie might share, letting her imagination run wild. “Do you suppose Britta wants to get in touch?”

Lucien considered that but doubted the possibility. “If that’s the case, then why hasn’t she done so before now? And has Amalie actually got a response from this Britta person? We don’t know that until the professor tells us more.”

Her enthusiasm was tempered by nervous anticipation. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

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