Page 9 of Birdie by the Bay (Wynn Harbor Inn #2)

Harlow promptly logged out of the site and into another bank account she and Robert shared. Once again, the password had been changed and once again, Harlow was forced to contact a branch employee to gain access.

She logged in, relieved to find out the money was accounted for.

There was one final bank account, an account in Harlow’s name alone, one she’d opened before marrying Robert and insisted on keeping. She logged into it and found the money untouched. In other words, her husband hadn’t been able to get his hands on it.

Harlow stared glumly at the computer screen. Robert had emptied their main bank account. She briefly wondered what he’d done to the joint investment accounts. At least he couldn’t touch her personal retirement account.

She snatched her phone off the counter, her hand trembling as she dialed her husband’s cell phone number. It went directly to voicemail. Forcing her voice to remain calm, Harlow asked him to call her back immediately.

“He can’t keep your money,” David said after she hung up. “A judge will find out what he’s done and make him split all assets.”

“What is he thinking?” A terrifying thought crept into Harlow’s head. Her conversation with Janice. Robert had cleaned out the bank account and canceled her credit cards. “What if he plans to petition for my guardianship, claiming I’m unstable and no longer able to make decisions on my own?”

“He’s gonna have a hard time convincing a judge of that, especially when you’re functioning well enough to work.”

“True. Still, if he’s cleaned out our main bank account, I wouldn’t put it past him.” Harlow checked her retirement account, relieved to find it was intact. Nothing had been touched. At least that was something.

“I need to call an attorney. Unfortunately, the only ones I know are attorneys Robert hired.”

David shuffled through the pile of papers sitting on the counter. “I can recommend an attorney. I know for a fact the Eastons have also used him. He’s good. Probably one of the best in the area. You could try giving him a call.”

“What’s his name?”

“Nigel Beckworth. He has offices in Toronto and Michigan.”

Harlow promptly opened a new screen and typed the attorney’s name in the search bar. “Wow. This guy gets topnotch ratings and reviews. If he’s good enough for you and the Eastons, he’s good enough for me.”

She dialed the office number and left a brief message, asking Attorney Beckworth to return her call. “It’s Sunday. I’m sure I won’t hear from him today.” Harlow closed out of the screens and shut the lid on her laptop. “I could use some fresh air.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Only if you want to listen to me vent,” she joked.

“I see nothing wrong with blowing off a little steam.” David glanced out the window. “It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we take Winnie out for a spin?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice. I’ll go grab a jacket.” By the time Harlow found what she needed, Mort and her father were waiting on the porch. She swapped out her wheelchair for the scooter and off they went.

David did most of the talking, briefly sharing his vision of the renovations and repairs to Wynn Harbor Inn.

“After visiting Easton Island and seeing Morgan’s setup at Locke Pointe, I decided it would be much more manageable and, best of all, less money to rebuild on a smaller, more intimate scale. ”

“It makes sense. I can invest my money, too. If I have any money left.”

“Robert can’t keep it,” David said. “The sooner we get an attorney involved and put a stop to his antics, the better.”

They reached the boat dock. Harlow and Mort patiently waited for her father to check the lines and load the gear.

Aunt Birdie texted, reporting she and Eryn had arrived safely and promised to keep her in the loop.

Harlow thanked her. She didn’t mention the stunt her husband had pulled. It would take too long to explain.

With a little help from her father, Harlow was soon seated near the front of the sailboat. Lake Huron, with the bright sun shining down, sparkled like a million diamonds.

Within minutes they were gliding over the open water, skirting Mackinac Island’s coastline. Mort snuggled up next to Harlow. He placed his paws on her lap and gazed out toward the shoreline, a look of pure joy on his furry face.

“Mort loves sailing.”

“He does. We haven’t gone out as often as we used to. I know he misses it. I do too.”

Harlow smoothed her hair back. Adjusting her sunglasses, she tilted her head to let the sun’s rays warm her skin. “You want to know what I miss? I miss the simple things.”

“They’ve been here all along, waiting for you,” her father said.

“It took an accident for me to see life has been passing me by.” Harlow thought about it. “And it opened my eyes.”

“I’ve always heard movie stars, athletes, famous people live in a bubble world. I guess it’s true.”

“The sad part is I didn’t realize the bubble was closing in, getting smaller and suffocating me.” The analogy summed up Harlow’s life. She had been living in a bubble…a big beautiful bubble surrounded by a handpicked entourage. Sheltered from the real world.

“It’s never too late, as long as you’re still alive.”

“I’m never going back to the bubble.”

“I hope not.” David intentionally kept the conversation light, sharing tidbits about some of the cliff-side homes and their owners, pointing out the bikers who were making their way around the island.

“As soon as I’m back on my feet, I’m going to bike all the way around,” Harlow vowed.

They rounded the bend. Up ahead was Mackinac Island’s downtown and the harbor district.

“Let’s stop for lunch,” David said.

“In town?”

“Sure. We’ll ask for a table with a view.” He expertly steered the sailboat alongside the dock and eased into an empty slip. A dockhand noticed them and ran over to help secure Winnie.

Harlow knew the exact moment the guy recognized her. It was a look she knew well. Slack jaw. Wide eyes. Staring. She pretended not to notice, instead watching her father maneuver her scooter onto the dock. “Let’s go, Mort.”

The pup scrambled along the gangway. He did a doggy shake, from the top of his head to the tip of his tail.

“Do you…uh…need help?” The dockhand stammered. “I can…uh…grab whatever you need off the boat.”

“We’re having lunch at the Dockside Grill,” David explained. “We shouldn’t be more than an hour or so if you don’t mind keeping an eye on Winnie for us.”

“No, sir. Not at all. I’ll make sure no one messes with her.”

“Thank you.” Wynn strolled alongside his daughter, making their way toward shore. He waited until they were out of earshot. “That young fella was starstruck.”

Harlow chuckled. “Poor guy. I thought he was going to trip on the ropes and tumble headfirst into the water.”

“I bet it happens pretty often, the stares and gawking part.”

“You get used to it, although I’ve learned to watch out for the ones who can be a little.” She twirled her finger next to her forehead. “Obsessed.”

“I read about some guy who climbed over your privacy wall and made it to the front door.”

Harlow shivered involuntarily. “He had a stun gun, rope, mace, a knife, and duct tape with him. Thank God Vic saw him and took him down. We had a similar incident at our condo in Palm Beach.”

“You’ve mentioned Vic before. You two must have been close.”

“Like this.” Harlow twined her index and middle fingers. “He’s the best, right up there with Eryn as far as friends go.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“No. Janice, my publicist promised to track him down. Maybe he’s moved on.”

“He doesn’t sound like the kind of friend who would just move on without telling you goodbye.”

“I don’t think so either, but who knows? It seems like every time I turn around, I learn something new about the people I thought were my friends.” Harlow’s shoulders sagged. “It’s depressing. Let’s talk about something else. I haven’t been to the Dockside Grill in years.”

“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.

“Enjoy the rest of the day. You know how short our summer seasons are. Before you know it, the weather will change and fall will be upon us.”

Back on board the sailboat, they set off for the remainder of their journey around the island. All too soon, they pulled alongside Wynn Harbor Inn’s private dock.

David made quick work of securing Winnie. After finishing, father, daughter and Mort trekked back toward the cottage. As they neared the gate, Harlow’s heart skipped a beat when she noticed a large, hulking figure standing on the porch, cell phone in hand. “You’re here!”

The man shoved his phone in his pocket and strode toward her. “Harlow. I can’t believe it. I finally found you.”