Page 58 of Capturing You
“Stratton? Isn’t that the real estate agent’s last name?”
“Maury. Yeah.” Ford had a good memory. “Owen’s her grandson. He’s dating my sister, Delaney, and I guess he heard I was in trouble.”
“How did he hear? Your call to the police was anonymous.”
“He’s a volunteer EMT and has friends in the police department, so maybe he heard from one of them. Besides, it’s all over town.”
“Is Owen friends with Lenny?”
Why did Ford keep coming back to Lenny? “They know each other, but if they’re friends, I’m not aware of it.”
“What’s Owen do for work? Aside from the volunteer thing?”
“I think he works on the docks? I’ve seen him down there a few times with Shane.”
“The fisherman or lobsterman.” At her nod, Ford said, “Does everyone know everyone?”
“It’s a small town.”
He acknowledged that with a grunt. “I can make dinner.”
“I plan to, unless you want to cook.”
“I don’t. Help yourself.” He tossed out a “thanks” and then walked away.
He was back in seconds. “No snooping.”
“How about cleaning?”
Lips pressed closed, he glanced down the hallway. “The other wing. Not the family’s rooms.”
“Fair enough.” He started to walk away, but she called him back. “Ford?” When he filled the doorway again, she asked, “Can we turn on the heat? It’s getting chilly.” Clouds had moved in, and though she hadn’t stepped outside all day, it was obvious by the cool air seeping through the old windows that the temperature had dropped.
“This house still has electric heaters.” Ford adjusted a thermostat near the door. “Feel free to turn it up in your bedroom too.”
“Thanks.”
He walked away, and this time, he didn’t come back.
The room filled with the scent of dust from the heater but warmed up pretty quickly. She checked her weather app. Rain was coming, and the temperature was supposed to dip even more, down into the fifties.
Thank goodness for heat.
Brooklynn got caught up on paperwork for the gallery, spent an hour trying to organize the booths for Old Home Days, which was much more complex than it sounded. She should’ve listened to Lois and refused the job. She hadn’t because she’d thought, seriously? How hard could it be to manage fewer than a hundred vendors?
In retrospect, the answer was—incrediblyhard.
She wanted to get it done so she could focus on more important things like the Arthur Whitmore contest. Arthur had been a top New England photographer, his photographs featured in newspapers and on national magazine covers. Because he’d been a Shadow Cove local, the contest would take place the weekend of Old Home Days. All the entries would be displayed in the Whitmore Gallery booth.
Lois oversaw the contest but had professional photographers judging all the categories. Brooklynn wanted to win the landscape category, and one entry would win the grand prize.
That was the prize that came with money—five thousand dollars. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it would make a world of difference to her business.
The winning photograph would be announced at the Whitmore booth at the small-town festival, of course. But because of how well-known the Whitmore prize had become, the winning photographer would be written up in newspapers all over New England—and in photography journals all over the country. If Brooklynn won, it wouldn’t just be a boon to her name and her work. It would mean free publicity for the Light and Shadows website.
As much as she loved the walk-in business that came with seasonal tourists, she needed more sales if she was going to keep the lights on twelve months a year. And she wanted to prove to her father she could support herself with her work. To prove she wouldn’t be a drain on her family’s finances for the rest of her life.
She checked the entry requirements carefully, then ordered the photograph to be printed in various sizes at her favorite lab.
