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When Summer finished talking, Lou noticed Casey and stood, “Ready to go?”

“As soon as I get the cookies Summer promised.”

“Oh, yeah.” Summer hurried out of the room.

Lou’s expression grew serious. “So, this is really happening?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “Europe can be pretty lonely if you’re on your own.”

He would know. Right after she and Greg got married, Lou backpacked around Europe for six months.

“Wish I could go with you,” he added, “but I used all my holidays.”

Casey squeezed his arm. “You’re a good friend.”

“Ditto, so you’ll understand when I say that going alone is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I understand.” She studied him a few moments. “Remember the part in The African Queen, when Bogart had to get into the water to move his boat? And when he climbed out, there were leeches all over him?”

“Are you saying you want me here in the swamp?”

“I’m saying I might need your help getting the leeches off me when I come home.”

He attempted a smile. “I can do that.”

“And I have another favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

Casey gripped his hand. In all the years she’d known this man, Lou had never let her down. Maybe Rhonda was right. Maybe she should give romance another chance, but with her best friend? She couldn’t stand the thought of losing him if things didn’t work out.

“Could you look in on Rhonda and Summer while I’m gone? Hang out with them maybe?”

“Are you worried about them?”

“Kind of. The new tenant’s been hovering around them since he’s been here,” she whispered, “ingratiating himself in their lives, and I’m getting a bad vibe. Darcy needs to know that someone else watches out for them besides me.”

Lou’s jaw tightened. “I want to meet this guy.”

“Not now, okay? I’ve got to be at the airport in thirty minutes. But could you stay at my place some nights and make your presence known?” She picked up her luggage and ushered Lou toward the kitchen. “Rhonda would love to cook for you.”

“No problem, I’ll be in the guy’s face.”

As they entered the kitchen, Summer handed Casey the cookie bag and Rhonda hung up the phone.

“Summer, how about you help Lou take my things to the truck? I need to talk to your mom a second.”

“Sure.”

When they were out of earshot, Casey said, “Lou’s going to stay at my place some nights—thought you might like the extra company.”

“Sure.” She picked up a dishcloth. “You know, I’ve been thinking that Marcus might have been planning on coming back to us.”

Good god. Where had that come from?

“That’s why he stayed in Vancouver,” Rhonda added. “He was waiting for his chance, only somebody didn’t want him returning to his old life so he, or she, killed him.”

Interesting theory, but Casey didn’t buy it.

“I can read your face,” Rhonda said. “You think I’m wrong.”

“I’d rather deal in facts.”

“You think Marcus didn’t love me enough to want to come back, don’t you?”

“I don’t think that at all.”

But given that Dad had been away so much during that last year, Casey had wondered if his love for Rhonda was as strong as Rhonda believed. They’d been friends since before Casey was born and grew closer after Dad threw Mother out. Rhonda had been the one to ask Dad out on an official date, and she was the one who’d proposed. Rhonda had described how they’d been having the time of their lives at a restaurant, eating lobster, drinking champagne, and before she knew it she’d popped the question. She didn’t have a ring, so she gave Dad her copper bracelet, but Casey hadn’t seen Dad wear it often.

“Rhonda, I should get go—”

“God, sometimes you’re so much like Lillian.”

What the hell was bringing all this on? Rhonda knew comparisons to Mother infuriated her because they were partly true. Hard as Casey tried, certain traits couldn’t be banished. There was a big difference, though, between manipulating situations to expose truths and manipulating situations to hide them.

“Come outside.” Casey stepped onto the back porch and glanced at the kitchen to make sure Darcy wasn’t nearby. “Darcy sure seems attracted to you.”

Rhonda grinned. “I don’t know why a young stud would waste time on a pudgy middle-aged divorcée, but I’m enjoying the attention.”

“He seems to spend a fair amount of time with Summer too.” Casey glanced over her shoulder. “Doesn’t the guy have anything better to do?”

“Not that I know of, but I went through his stuff yesterday, just to make sure there’s nothing kinky or weird about him.”

Casey’s mouth fell open.

“Don’t look so shocked. You know I’d do anything to protect my daughter, and his references could have been bogus. Anyhow, I didn’t find any porn magazines, and he doesn’t own a computer.” She glanced over Casey’s shoulder and then lowered her voice further. “I know none of this proves he’s the picture of innocence, but I’m watching him as closely as he watches me.”

“Do you think he’s up to something?”

“Maybe cheap rent and sex,” she shrugged. “He’s on his cell phone a lot, but I have no idea who he talks to. Darcy never mentions family or friends.”

Rhonda had been known to eavesdrop from time to time. Casey suspected this was why she had no long-term tenants. How many other tenants had had their suites searched?

“Don’t worry, Casey, I’ll keep an eye on him. Maybe learn more through some pillow talk, and let me tell you, I’m looking forward to the research.”

“Not a great plan, Rhonda.”

“I know what I’m doing, sweetie. I’m not a total fool.”

“True.” But she had her gullible moments. “I should go.”

Rhonda reached for her arm. “Stay safe, and don’t forget to call.”

Casey gave her a big hug. “I will.”

She hurried down the steps and into Lou’s pickup. As Lou pulled away, she looked back at the house. Darcy had joined Rhonda and Summer on the porch. As mother and daughter waved, Darcy stood between them, arms around their waists, and a smile on his face.

Thirteen

TO KILL TIME on the airplane, Casey had read about the barren, open spaces of England’s North Yorkshire County. Much had been written about the crimson and purple foliage of the moors in autumn, but the brilliant spring greens she saw in and around the village of Goathland were breathtaking.

At the tiny train station, one of the locals told Casey she could arrange for a taxi at the pub up the road. She’d found the village cabby starting his lunch and had agreed to meet him in a half hour.

As she strolled through the village, past open fields and toward the moor, the afternoon sunlight made the fields almost glow. It was a sharp contrast to the stone fences and brown stone houses. Casey had never been in a village where there were more sheep than human beings, and these animals acted like they owned the place. Two strutted down the road. Some grazed in cottage yards while others rested in the fields. Still, this was a beautiful spot, evidently known for its hiking trails.