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“WhereisPops?” Eryn asked.

“Saturday is casserole and cards night with Lottie,” Harlow said.

“You’re right. I forgot. They’ve been getting together for cards and dinner for as long as Lottie has lived here.”

“Who is this mystery woman?” Aunt Birdie joked. “Her name keeps popping up.”

“Lottie Fletcher. She takes care of Wynn Harbor Inn’s gardens and also works part-time at the Grand Hotel.” Eryn glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “To be honest,I think she’s in love with David. I mean, I can’t be positive, but I’ve sensed a certain vibe between them.”

“Me too,” Harlow said.

“She moved here from across the pond…the UK,” Eryn said. “I’m not sure how she found out about Mackinac Island. One day she waltzed over here, somehow convinced your dad he needed help with the gardens and then kind of stuck around.”

Birdie grinned. “I can only imagine the look on my brother’s face when she showed up and refused to leave.”

“Believe me, he grumbled and griped about it, but not to her face. Over time, I guess she kind of grew on him.”

“I can’t wait to meet her, but first.” Birdie flipped the burgers. “We eat.”

Eryn, not one to arrive empty-handed, set the bowl of homemade macaroni salad she’d brought on the table. She placed Harlow’s tossed salad next to it before adding the condiments and packages of buns.

As soon as the burgers finished cooking, the trio feasted on the food, remarking about how wonderful the weather was…summer’s last hurrah before fall came knocking on their door.

“How long are you hanging around, Aunt Birdie?” Eryn plucked a pickle from her burger and popped it into her mouth.

“Until Harlow has flown the coop.”

“What if I don’t fly the coop?”

Eryn made a choking sound. “You’re moving back?”

Harlow hadn’t meant to say that, had not even seriously considered the idea. But from the moment her father wheeled her off the ferryboat and onto the dock, Mackinac Island began working its magic, wiggling its way back into her heart.

It was like no other place on earth. Not her swanky digs in Palm Beach. Not her glitzy Malibu mansion. Not her trendy apartment in New York. All paled compared to the charming island, steeped in history…a step back in time.

“Maybe not moving here permanently, but who knows? I might be open to buying a small place of my own somewhere around here to escape the rat race.”

“As I said before, I’ve never been one to mince words.” Birdie hesitated, and Harlow could tell from the look on her face she was getting ready to speak her mind. She wasn’t wrong.

“You blamed your father for your mother’s death. Have you had a change of heart?”

“I have. I don’t believe he set the fire that killed Mom, but someone did.”

Birdie cleared her throat. “And what do you intend to do about it?”

“About what?”

“Proving your father’s innocence. Proving to those who peer down their nose, having appointed themselves both judge and jury, who continue to insist David killed Ginger, that they’re wrong.”

“He’s been carrying the stigma for years,” Eryn said. “It’s aged him in so many ways.”

“WhatcanI do?” Harlow asked.

“I offered to hire a private investigator to look into it,” Birdie said. “David flat out refused.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t he want to clear his name?” Harlow asked.

“Frankly, I have no idea. You would think he would be champing at the bit to get to the bottom of what happened.”