Page 71 of The Guest Cottage

“You have flood lights,” Cort said. “Fishermen use them when they finish night fishing, to make sure they’re not leaving any expensive rods or equipment behind. From now on, I want you to turn them on at night.”

“But the electric bill . . .”

“You’ll turn them on,” he reiterated, politely putting an end to her objection. “Tomorrow I’ll pick up flood lights for the front, too.” His gaze pinned Marlow. “For both of you.”

To encourage Pixie, Marlow said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Of course, she would also reimburse him, but Pixie didn’t need to know that.

She didn’t hear his phone, but when Cort lifted it to his ear, she knew he’d gotten a call. To Pixie, she whispered, “That’s probably Herman.”

Confused, Pixie asked, “How do you know?”

Instead of answering, she listened to Cort.

“Did you see anything?” His brows came together. “Interesting. Yeah, it’s probably related.” He listened again, then nodded. “Keep it to yourself, Herman, okay? Right. It’s great that I can trust you, but you know how everyone else gossips.”

Oh, Marlow thought that was a genius ploy to stroke Herman’s ego. When she spotted one of Cort’s brief smiles, she knew Herman was eating it up.

“I’ll tell her, and thank you.” After he returned the phone to his pocket, he said, “Herman wants you to call him if you need anything.”

What a wonderful offer. “He’s the absolute sweetest, isn’t he?”

Dubious, Cort replied, “Sure, if you say so.”

When he said nothing else, she asked, “Well? What did he see?”

His gaze cut to Pixie, and she had the thought that he might not want to talk in front of her. She understood his reasoning, but they’d each been remiss in thinking of Pixie as a child to be protected. She needed to be aware of any threat.

“Go on,” she said. “I think Pixie should be kept in the loop since the intruder was closest to her home.”

Cort stared at Marlow a few seconds longer, then nodded. “A Mercedes Maybach tore out of town. Herman said it was the slickest SUV he’s ever seen, and the driver ran a stop sign.”

As that information sank in, Marlow murmured, “Hopefully, he didn’t encounter any deer.”

Pixie asked, “What’s a Maybach?”

Sending her one of those bare-minimum smiles, Cort explained, “A fancy car that probably costs over a hundred fifty grand.”

Stomach sinking, Marlow said, “So in other words, probably someone sent by my in-laws.”

Going white, Pixie whispered, “Did you tell them about Andy?”

“No. I told you I wouldn’t, remember?” It was a friendly reprimand, but still Pixie blanched.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You’re worried. I understand. But I will never lie to you.”

Breathing shakily, Pixie nodded.

“I haven’t even spoken with them lately. A few days ago, Sandra left me a message and said she’d like to talk, but I was at work, and since then I’ve been . . . busy.” Busy looking at property, caring for Pixie, and especially spending time with Cort. Overall, she’d been busy avoiding her in-laws—and living her new, happy life.

She’d feel guilty for that, except that nothing positive ever came of their chats, and they often left Marlow annoyed. Now, she had to admit that avoidance might not have been the best approach. “I’ll call Sandra tomorrow to find out if they’re behind this.”

Cort crossed his arms. “If it is them, they might not know anything about Pixie. It’s more likely they came to check up on you, except your house was dark because you were with me, and Pixie’s kitchen light was on.”

“So the person they sent was drawn here.” Not for a second did she think Sandra or Aston had personally come to snoop. No, a task like that would be hired out. “Well, if they were behind this snooping, I’ll put a stop to it.”

“How?” Cort asked. “If your in-laws were nosy enough to have someone creeping around in the dark, it’s unlikely they’ll just confess to doing it when confronted.”

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