Page 131 of The One With the Mountain Man

"So you don't thinkwe're overreacting?" I asked Detective Myers. Not long after Huk left I got on the phone and I hadn't been off it for more than five minutes since. First I called my assistant, then my agent, and now Detective Myers, back in Tampa.

"Marley," he sighed, "Ididn't even know where you were. This man is either so obsessed he managed to track you down or someone told him you were there. If I was keeping a low profile and someone showed up knowing exactly where I was, I would be freaking the fuck out. Excuse the language."

A small part of me relaxed knowing Detective Myers was thinking the same things. "When you make up things for a living it's easy to let your imagination run away." But to be fair, the Alibis ran off first, surely a sign my imagination was appropriately worried. "Several businesses in town got him on camera. I'll send that over with the copies of the identification he used."

Detective Myers chuckled. "That's some town you found. I'll be in contact with the local sheriff to bring him up to date on the particulars and get that missing person search expedited. Normally they'd have to wait but considering the extenuating circumstances I think they'll get their asses moving ASAP."

"Thank you for everything." I rubbed my forehead, smiling as Eve settled a cup of tea and a plate of cheese and crackers beside me.

"It's my job, Marley. I'm happy to help. And I'm sorry you keep having to deal with anything like this."

I ended the call and set my phone aside. "Thank you, Eve. This looks amazing." I needed a minute to breathe.

"Sharon is a cheese aficionado. I couldn't pronounce most of their names. But I can tell you this one made me moan." She plucked a cream-colored cheese with a slightly darker colored rind off the plate and dropped it onto her tongue.

The sound she made was indecent, so of course I tried that first. "Oh damn. That is good!"

"Sharon!" Eve snapped her fingers twice. "What the heck is this sorcery?"

Sharon rolled her eyes and came over. "All of it or something in particular. You know I make special trips just to purchase cheese, right? Some people are particular about their wine or olive oil, for me it's cheese. I could talk about this all day."

"This one," Eve held up another slim morsel. "Is magic. What is it?"

Sharon grinned. "Barely Buzzed Beehive Cheese. It's a delicate kind of cheddar that's been rubbed in espresso and lavender. And yes, it is delicious. Oh, we should plan a girls' trip to Italy. We can eat and drink and read and drool over the scenery. I have some cheese hotspots we can visit."

Eve's eyes bulged. "Did...did you just suggest we all go toItalyon...on a vacation together?"

She waved her hand at the plate. "Do you like cheese or not?"

"I'm pretty sure they make cheese in America too," Eve grumbled, slumping in her seat.

"They make delicious cheese in many places, including an adorable little cheese town not far from here. We can take a field trip to West Jefferson first and if it goes well, we'll aim for Italy. Or the Netherlands. Now go help Liam mark the grid." She shooed Eve away and took her place. "Don't let your tea go cold."

I still couldn't believe all this time I had my childhood hero right here. I'd thought Sherry McKenna Strong died years ago. Instead, she was right here, distracting me from thinking too hard about all the ways today could go wrong.

She selected a softer piece of cheese and hummed with happiness. "Maeve is the reason there are twenty-eight Sammy books. I thought I was done after the first ten."

She had my full, undivided attention. This was my version of meeting your favorite rock star or actor and having them tell you all their secrets. "What happened?"

Sharon nibbled on a cracker. "She demanded more. The books were doing well. Unexpectedly well. I'd written most of them in a fury over two years of grief and inspiration. I wanted to tell my family's stories. Most of it is inspired by my grandmother mixed up with stories of her mother and grandmother. They combined into a perfect concoction."

"Very much. And you used that cabin as inspiration too?"

"This property has been in my family for generations. They built the cabin first and lived there until 1927. They built a house here where this one now sits but it wasn't well made. It was demolished and rebuilt into this house in the 1950s."

I sipped my tea while stealing delicious bites of food, absorbing every word, every soft expression that crossed her face.

"My publisher wanted more, Maeve wanted more, but I'd told my stories. Well, my family's stories. What else was there to say? Maeve was adamant. She started coming over every morning after the kids were off to school. We'd sit out on the porch, a lot like this, and eat and talk. Slowly, the ideas started to form. The other adventures Sammy could have. Maeve is good at navigating the psyche and finding what's hiding in the shadows or holding you back. That's why I encouraged you to have breakfast with her."

I was being life-coached by my favorite writer and her creativity whisperer.Wild."I think I might be peaking. This, right here, is the pinnacle of my life."

Sharon laughed hard at that. "You're nowhere near your peak, personally or professionally. But if you want to get that book of yours written, we're here to help."

Sharon was already helping by keeping me distracted while everyone else worked on figuring out who Timothy Patrick was and where he'd gone.

"I'm worried that something happened to Joanne and Mack."

Her confidence faded a little. "And that's not your fault. Am I scared out of my gourd for my niece? Yes, I am. But if this Timothy Patrick or your Cristobal did something, that's on them. Plus Mack has been coming to murder book club for months, she should be able to spot a predator by now, and, if the worst should happen, have the skills to escape."

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