Page 6 of Hidden Harbor (Evergreen Rescue #1)

Z ach planted the seed, and it sprouted, growing roots and unfurling toward the sun with every passing minute. Had Vi’s gift certificate for yoga been a gentle nudge, or a sisterly joke?

I loved my job, but it gave me plenty of time to think and overthink about things, like whether or not I should ask Violet if she’d mind me asking Anya out. Once my brain settled on an idea, I had a hard time shaking it.

Something about Anya drew me. She was kind, but Vi tended to surround herself with good people.

All of her friends were pretty easygoing.

Anya was beautiful, but looks had never been enough to make me step outside my comfort zone.

Something else pulled me toward her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

She’d awakened my protective instincts. And my possessive ones.

Anya’s role in my sister’s life was the only thing holding me back.

Drew: Got a few minutes for me if I swing by at lunch?

Vi: Sure.

Taking action allowed me to focus on work. Stowing my hose, I scanned the horizon. Gentle waves rolled in on the private beach we used for harvesting. It was peaceful. Only the wind whispered in my ears.

Something black caught my eye. Rectangular and plastic, it looked like a small suitcase. Each wave pushed it closer to shore, until it tossed against the rocks, scraping gently. I picked my way across the stones and sand, wary of slippery moss.

Frowning, I examined my find. It was a black plastic equipment case. The waterproof kind used on boats for storing valuables or documents that you didn’t want wet or at the bottom of the ocean.

I scooped it up by the handle. The case was intact and heavy enough to suggest something inside. I tried the clasp, but, predictably, whoever it belonged to had locked it. Turning it over, I looked for markings or a name. J.D. was etched in the black plastic. For Jordan Dawkins?

My gut churned. Maybe it would offer his widow answers.

I carried the case back to my truck and reached for my SAR radio. It was probably nothing, but given that the cove where Violet and her friends found Jordan’s body was only a quarter mile away, the sheriff might not want me to post it on What’s New, Friday Harbor for pickup as a lost and found.

“Dispatch, this is Drew Fenwick. I just found a Pelican case on Orca Beach. Can you please check with Sheriff Walker? I’m wondering if he wants me to bring it in.”

My radio crackled with static.

“Hey, Drew. Sue here. I’ll check with him. Are you headed into town?”

“Yeah, later. I’m going to meet Vi for lunch.”

“He’s in a meeting. I’ll talk to him and let you know. He’ll probably want you to drop it off after lunch. Over.”

“Out.”

It took another two hours to transfer the sea water to my evaporation house.

I listened to an audiobook of Lee’s latest release to pass the time.

His thrillers were often set in seaside towns, and my current read featured a couple finding a body on their beach walk.

A little on the nose, but he had no way of knowing reality would match fiction.

I found parking in front of The Salty Pantry easily, a sure sign that tourist season hadn’t begun. Another couple of months, and the streets would fill with mopeds, pedestrians, and all the cars that could fit on a ferry.

The boutique was Vi’s baby. She’d taken over a small storefront just off Main Street in a white house with black trim. The inside echoed the exterior’s color motif, mostly white walls with black accents and artsy photos of the salt evaporation process.

She carried an eclectic mix of spices, tea, and specialty items from other craftspeople on the island. As a bonus, she offered hot tea and scones for sale. Her pastries drew a steady stream of tourists and locals.

Violet waved from behind the counter. She wore her typical shop uniform, a Salty Pantry t-shirt and jeans. Her hair was secured in a long braid down her back, but a few curly strands had escaped to frame her face and her glasses.

“Hey, Drew.”

“Hey. How’s business today?”

“Steady.” She grinned. “What did you bring me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Who says I brought you anything?”

“You don’t invite me to lunch and show up empty-handed.”

“Just because I don’t think a protein bar is enough to make a meal doesn’t mean I brought anything.”

“But did you?” she asked.

“Yes.” I set a brown paper bag on the counter.

She clapped her hands together. “Please tell me Mom made chicken salad.”

“Yes. She made a big batch for me before they left.”

She squealed, pulling our sandwiches from the bag. “Meet me out back? I’ll hang my closed sign and be right there.”

I slipped out the back door and into the tiny yard.

A small patio set served as Violet’s breakroom on nice days.

Vi claimed the chair across from me and unwrapped her sandwich, making happy noises.

I was glad I’d asked Mom to leave me lunch.

Vi was easier to talk to when she was full, and she had a weakness for Mom’s chicken salad.

My sandwich disappeared in four big bites, making me wish I’d thought to pack more food. Vi gave me a knowing look. “You can grab a scone if you’re still hungry.”

“Thanks.”

I slipped inside, returning with a cherry almond scone that smelled amazing. Vi watched me steadily as I devoured it.

“Where does it all go?” she asked.

“I sweat it out in the evaporation houses.”

“Gross.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” I blurted before I could second-guess myself. “Do you care if I ask Anya out?”

“Care? Yes. Object? Only if you’re going to be an asshole.”

“Since when am I ever an asshole?” I asked, hurt.

“You don’t mean to be.” She said it almost kindly, but it didn’t do much to soothe my ego.

“She hasn’t said much, but I think she’s had her heart broken once already.

” Her gaze was too direct, seeing deeper than I was comfortable with.

“You have a tendency to hold women at arm’s length.

Anya deserves better than that. If you’re going to date her, be sure you’re willing to show her the real you. ”

“It’s all the real me,” I said.

“Spare me the innocent act.”

My sister meant well. I could respect that she was protective of her friend.

But I also expected her to have more faith in me.

It wasn’t like I ran around town, hitting on everything that moved like Zach.

I didn’t have that kind of time. The farm and our family took up most of my energy.

And maybe that was her point. I couldn’t start something with Anya and not give her my all.

“Thanks,” I said grudgingly.

“I love you, you big lug. I just happen to love her too. Don’t mess it up.”

On that positive note, I excused myself to drop off the case I’d found at the Sheriff’s Office.

“What case?” Vi asked.

“Just something I found on the beach this morning. It’s probably nothing. I’m going to drop it off on my way home.”

“Tell Sue I said hello.”

“Will do. And, Vi?” Her gaze met mine. “Thanks.”

Her brows arched. “Don’t thank me. I’m doing my best to live up to the motto Gran bestowed on me.”

“Some nonsense in Latin?” I asked.

“No. Mine’s in English: let the dragon breathe.”

“What was wrong with ‘go big or go home’?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Gran claims the rest of us haven’t quote-unquote ‘ lived up to our potential’ and that we deserve new mottos to give us a kick in the ass.”

“Is this her way of disowning us?”

Vi chuckled. “We can only hope.”

I waved goodbye to Vi and walked out to my truck. It was hot enough that I’d left the windows down. I spent enough time in baking temperatures, thanks to the evaporation houses. I didn’t need to turn my truck into an oven too. But maybe I’d assumed the safety of small-town living for too long.

The black case? It was missing.