Page 5 of Artifice (Pros and Cons Mysteries #4)

O live leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her water as she observed the other patrons inside The Salty Kettle.

A young couple near the window talked quietly over dinner. Two women laughed to themselves while showing each other pictures on their phones. Two couples were seemingly out for a double date, one of the men already appearing to have had too much to drink.

Olive’s gaze stopped on a lone man sitting on the other side of the restaurant.

As soon as their gazes met, he looked away—the first dead giveaway.

He’d been watching her. But why?

Was someone in town already suspicious about her presence? Had someone at Lighthouse Harbor sent this guy to keep an eye on her? If she asked too many questions, would she suddenly go missing also?

Or was he connected with her father and the mysterious circumstances of her dad’s unsolved murder?

Any of those things seemed possible.

Olive liked to keep things simple.

But right now, her life was anything but.

There were too many threats, too many possibilities for trouble.

She’d have to make the best of it, however.

Too many people were counting on Olive for her to fail . . . including her family, who still needed justice for their murders.

Olive continued watching the man, realizing that what had caught her attention wasn’t his appearance but his behavior. The mystery man kept checking his watch. His eyes darted to the entrance each time the door opened.

But what she especially noticed was the manila folder he’d placed on the table. He kept one hand resting protectively over it at all times.

What she wouldn’t give to know what was inside that folder . . .

When the cast iron skillet of bubbling mac and cheese arrived, the server set it down with a warning about the hot dish and a knowing smile. “First time trying it? Give it a minute to cool down—but not too long. It’s best when the cheese is still stretchy.”

Olive stared at the golden-crusted dish, steam rising from pieces of succulent lobster nestled among the pasta.

For a moment, she allowed herself to be just a woman enjoying a comforting meal in a charming New England restaurant, not someone carrying the weight of secrets and an ulterior motive that had nothing to do with charitable donations.

As she gingerly dug into the cheesy pasta dish, her gaze went to the man again.

He was probably in his mid-thirties with curly blond hair and a broad build. He wore a jacket with suede patches at the elbows and loafers. The look gave him an intellectual vibe.

Was he a professor? There was a college the next town over, only twenty minutes or so away. He could very well work there. And maybe he kept glancing at her because he thought she was pretty, not because he was somehow linked with this case or her father.

She shouldn’t read too much into things.

“How’s your meal?” Stephanie appeared at the table a few minutes later, a hopeful smile on her face.

“Wonderful.” Olive smiled then nodded toward the man. “This might be a strange request, but could you tell me who he is?”

The waitress followed her gaze and frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve never seen him before.”

“You get a lot of visitors around here?”

“Sometimes. But we’re not one of the more popular towns in the area. We kind of like it that way.”

“I can imagine.”

“Of course, everyone knows who you are.”

Olive’s eyebrows shot up. “They do?”

She shrugged. “It’s a small town, and Lighthouse Harbor employs a lot of people.”

“Let me guess—you’ve been told to make a good impression?”

Stephanie’s hesitant smile was all the answer Olive needed.

“More money to Lighthouse Harbor would mean more employment for people here in town.” She shrugged. “You can’t blame people for wanting to be employed.”

“No, you can’t.”

This woman could be a good source of information. Their conversation made Olive realize there was more at stake than she’d imagined. People were getting their hopes up that Olive would help make their lives better. She hated giving them false hope.

However, she had to concentrate on the well-being of the children at the school. She had to focus on making sure they were safe. They were the most important thing here.

“What is it like working for Lighthouse Harbor?” Olive asked. “Do you know people who’ve been employed there? Or maybe even who’ve been a student?”

Surprise flashed through Stephanie’s gaze—followed by a touch of fear.

Fear?

Was she afraid of answering? Would there be repercussions if she said the wrong thing?

Olive didn’t know, but that was her best guess.

“I . . . I’ve never worked there,” she finally said. “It’s—it’s not for everyone.”

“But you know people who have worked there?” Olive pressed. “Can you tell me more?”

She glanced around as if checking to see if anyone was listening.

Then she leaned closer. “It’s just that?—”

“Stephanie!” a deep voice called. “We need you over here.”

She glanced back at Olive, something close to panic in her gaze. “I’ve got to go.”

Stephanie definitely knew something. And she was clearly frightened.

Olive would be eating here again . . . and seeing if she could catch Stephanie alone sometime to ask her more questions.