Page 34 of Moonlit Hideaway
“I might visit the library or the historical society. Get to know this town a little better and play around on Emma’s guitar.”
“Great. Then I’ll catch you in the evening.” He opened the door, his gaze lingering. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Go, go. Evening will be here soon enough.” She couldn’t help kissing him on the cheek. Emma’s shower shut off, so she had topush him from the room and watch as he strolled down the hall and turned to look at her before going down the stairs.
How was she going to keep a lid on her emotions? She almost didn’t care.
Shivering with delight, Sierra decided to pull on sweats and running shoes for a walk on the beach. She could get used to doing this every morning. It would clear her head.
She stepped out of her room and saw Emma hurrying down the hallway.
“Jane!” The teenager greeted her with a huge smile. She was carrying her guitar case. “I’m auditioning for a talent spot for Harvestfest. Wish me luck.”
Sierra hugged her. “You won’t need luck because you’re going to kill it. But good luck anyway.”
“Emma. The bus,” Hank shouted from downstairs.
“You’d better get going.” Sierra followed Emma down the stairs. She couldn’t help noticing Hank’s admiring glance as he and Liam put on their work belts and headed out the door. While she smiled at Hank, Liam’s hard, stony gaze followed her as if he were judging her.
“Have a good day working hard, boys,” she said.
A grunting squeal cut off what she was going to say next.
“Oliver, come back here,” Emma shouted, running after her pig. “Dad, I missed the bus.”
“I’m not driving you this time,” Hank said. “You need to learn a lesson. Wake up fifteen minutes earlier if you need more time.”
“But I won’t be able to audition if I’m absent from school,” Emma whined.
“I’ll drive you,” Sierra said. “But your father’s right. You need to plan better.”
She went back to her room and grabbed the keys to her truck. Hank had replaced the broken windows, and for better and worse, this was the set of wheels she owned.
“And put the pig away,” Hank shouted. “I don’t want him bothering us while we work.”
“Oliver needs his exercise,” Emma said as she pushed the pig out the door.
Sierra followed, jogging down the steps, but Oliver bolted from Emma and ran across the yard. He dashed toward Liam’s trailer with the determination of a marathon runner. Liam was organizing his toolbelt and looked up just in time to see Oliver nosedive into a half-open backpack.
“Oliver, no!” Emma called, but the pig paid no heed. He shook his snout free of the backpack and emerged triumphantly, holding something in his mouth that looked suspiciously like Sierra’s electric neon pulse scarf—a black silk scarf embellished with zigzag lines of fluorescent strips of neon pinks, blues, and greens.
Sierra’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized the pattern. It was her scarf—one she had packed in her luggage, which was robbed from her truck a few days ago. A sudden chill ran down her spine as she watched Liam hurriedly snatch the scarf from Oliver, his face reddening.
“I found it in the grassy field behind the house,” he stammered, avoiding Sierra’s gaze. “Must’ve blown over there in the wind.”
Sierra wasn’t convinced. His eyes, always watching her with an unsettling intensity, now darted away guiltily. There was something off about Liam, something that made her skin crawl.
She hoped Hank had seen the interaction, but he was busy backing out his truck to take Emma to school, leaving her alone with Liam and the pig.
Sierra pointed an accusing finger at Liam. “Show me where you supposedly found that scarf.”
“Some tourist must have dropped it. You want it?” He sneered at her with spittle in his beard.
Sierra couldn’t admit it was hers, so she shrugged. “You look so guilty, I wonder if it’s not Emma’s scarf. Doesn’t seem like the kind of scarf a big strapping boy like you would be parading around.”
“And how would you assume that? Maybe the scarf gives me the jollies.”
“It’s your business,” Sierra said. “I find it strange you show up so soon after my truck was broken into. Everyone on the island says these things never happen. What gives? Liam what’s-your-name.”
