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“As far as I know, it hasn’t changed much. I’ve heard the food is delicious. The view is fantastic. Hopefully, they’ll find us a table by the water.”

David ushered his daughter inside and approached the hostess station, asking for outdoor seating on the main floor and a spot for Mort to hang out. The hostess did a double take. She stared at Harlow. “You’re here,” she whispered. “Oh my gosh. I heard you were on the island.”

Harlow held a finger to her lips. “You can tell all of your friends as soon as we’re done eating.”

“Okay. Yes. Of course. I’m sure you want to eat in peace. Follow me.” The woman fumbled for the menus. She scurried along the hall, nervously chattering the entire way.

As luck would have it, or perhaps because of Harlow, she seated them at a corner table, offering an expansive view of the harbor and Winnie, who was tied up nearby.

“I recommend the daily special—fish and chips. It’s delish.”

“Is it whitefish?” David asked.

“You bet. Freshly caught.” The hostess told them a server would be by shortly. The trio settled in, and Harlow began perusing the menu.

Moments later, their server arrived and rattled off the lunch specials. Gold star service was the only word to describe the staff. Drinks appeared within minutes, along with a complimentary appetizer—the Dockside Grill’s famous smoked whitefish dip and a plate full of pita chips.

Harlow dug in, discovering she was famished. A server returned with a bowl of water and treats for Mort, who promptly licked her hand to show his gratitude.

Attentive but not intrusive was the theme of the meal. The staff was on hand but not hovering, something Harlow appreciated. They lingered over coffee and shared a decadent dessert, triple chocolate cheesecake.

“Thanks for taking me out for a spin in Winnie,” Harlow said. “I feel much better. Robert might have a legitimate reason for the accounts being emptied and just hasn’t bothered telling me why.”

“You should ask him about it,” David said. “It’s good for you to let him know you’re paying attention.”

“I agree. Hopefully, Mr. Beckworth will call back. If not, I’m sure I can find another competent attorney, one Robert doesn’t have in his pocket.” Harlow toyed with the last bite of cheesecake. “I feel like such a fool.”

“You’re not a fool. Robert is a master at manipulating and controlling. As I’ve said before, the car crash was a terrible accident, but perhaps a blessing in disguise.”

“Absolutely.” Harlow told him about the London apartment Robert was gung-ho to purchase. “I was having second thoughts about it. In fact, it was one of the last things he and I argued about. Looking back, God saved me from signing those papers.”

The serving staff, a trio of employees, returned with the check. They placed it on the table and then lingered. “I hope you enjoyed your lunch, Ms. Wynn.”

“Dad and I loved it. Thank you for the smoked whitefish dip. It was one of the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“If…uh…we were wondering if we could snap a selfie with you,” one young server asked.

“Of course. I’m sure Dad won’t mind snapping a picture for us.” Harlow posed with each of them individually and then as a group. The hostess appeared for another round of photos.

“Could you return the favor and take a picture of me, my dad and Mort?” Harlow asked.

“We would love to.”

David, with a look of pure pride on his face, made his way over. He leaned in, placing a light hand on his daughter’s shoulder. Mort, not to be left out, trotted over and parked himself at Harlow’s feet.

“This one is definitely frame-worthy,” the server proclaimed in her charming southern accent. “Y’all are super photogenic.”

With photos taken and the bill paid, Harlow, her father, and Mort exited the restaurant. Next door and only steps away was the visitors’ center.

“Do you mind if we pop into the visitors’ center?”

“Your wish is my command.” Entering through the front, David greeted the employee by name. While they chatted,Harlow and Mort circled the room. She grabbed a brochure about Fort Mackinac, a map of the island, and a few others that sounded interesting before catching up with him.

The woman leaned her elbows on the counter, a friendly smile lighting her face. “Finally, a sighting of the elusive Harlow Wynn.”

“Maybe not elusive, but definitely reclusive,” Harlow joked.

Her father introduced them, mentioning they had eaten lunch at the Dockside Grill and were heading back out on Winnie.