CHAPTER TWO

      MATT DUNBAR SHADED his eyes and peered through the surveyor’s scope. The project was massive. And unique. Mixing a kiddie coaster with an adult coaster could be genius. Or a total flop. Would little kids line up for a ride that looked scary even if it wasn’t?

      That wasn’t his problem. Starlight Point knew its customers better than he did. His responsibility was to make sure the intertwined coasters were built according to the blueprints, the code, the budget and the calendar.

      One year. The ride had to open next May, and it had to be perfect. Perfection in a roller coaster meant it had to seem deadly when in reality, riders wouldn’t break a fingernail. He shook his head. Such a paradox.

      Millions of dollars were on the line, as well as his company’s reputation and his own hopes and dreams. He had to prove himself. Not many twenty-six-year-olds got an opportunity like this. The media attention at the groundbreaking ceremony a few weeks ago was enough to remind him how high profile Starlight Point was. He’d seen his own picture on the front page of the Bayside Times with a caption saying the top secret project was all on him. Great.

      Matt looked up when something caught his eye across the construction zone. A tall man, suit coat flapping, made his way over the mud and around the equipment.

      Jack Hamilton. He and his sisters, Evie and June, were co-owners of Starlight Point. He was a nice enough guy and they had something in common—Jack had inherited the park from his parents, much like Matt believed he might inherit Bayside Construction someday. Perhaps sooner than he’d ever thought. His chest tightened when he thought of his stepfather’s declining health.

      “How’s it going?” Jack asked.

      “Good,” Matt said. He shoved his hard hat back and wiped sweat from his brow. “This part of the project isn’t much to look at, but it’s necessary. Even though it seems like we’re just making a mess.”

      “I remember when the Sea Devil site looked like this four years ago. I had a hard time picturing it ever becoming a ride. My sisters still claim I don’t have any imagination, but the problem is usually just that I’m hungry. Want to get a doughnut?”

      Matt glanced at his watch. He’d been on-site for three hours now and the midmorning belly rumble was slowing him down. “I could eat a doughnut.”

      Jack slapped him on the back. “Let’s go to the bakery just down the midway. But you might want to take off your hard hat so you don’t attract attention. The park’s open, and people are dying of curiosity because of this fence. Of course, it’s our strategy to build excitement and that’s why we swore your company to secrecy.”

      “Is the strategy working?”

      “I get media requests for details and the ride name every day. And our police department has already chased at least one trespasser out of here, so I’d say yes,” Jack said.

      Jack’s face betrayed nothing, and as far as Matt knew, Jack wasn’t talking about him.

      “Gawkers,” Matt said.

      Jack shrugged. “It’s a pain, but I’m glad people are excited about the ride. It’s a huge investment for us and we could lose our shirts if it fails.” He grinned. “No pressure or anything.”

      Matt followed Jack through the mud zone to a gate partially obscured by a tree. He hung his yellow hard hat on a nail before he left the construction area.

      “Pink awning,” Jack said, inclining his head down the midway. “Land of sweets.”

      Matt didn’t see a pink awning. He saw a tall, slim police officer all in black. She stood, shoulders squared, watching the crowd. Her posture said don’t mess with me.

      It was too much temptation. As he and Jack neared Caroline, Matt stopped.

      “Excuse me, miss. Can you tell me what they’re building?” He pointed toward the long fence around the coaster project.

      Caroline crossed her arms and cocked her head. She recognizes me for certain.

      “They’re building a swinging bridge that will connect Starlight Point to the mainland,” she said with straight lips and a professional tone. “It will be the longest bridge built from licorice in North America.”

      “That’s what I heard,” Matt said. “I’ll be sure to spread the word on social media.”

      Jack laughed. “We’re getting doughnuts, Caroline. You want one?”

      The owner knows her first name and is offering her doughnuts? Matt glanced at her silver name tag which only displayed her last name. Bennett.

      “Of course I do,” Caroline said. “Cinnamon roll. Maple frosting. I have a break coming up, and I’m a lot nicer to teenagers with sugar in my bloodstream. This place is crawling with school groups.”

      “I’ll bring two,” Jack said.

      Jack and Matt strode toward the far end of the midway. When they had gone a few steps, Jack grinned. “My sister-in-law,” he said. “Interesting lady.”

      “Really?”

      “Her brother, Scott, just got married to my sister Evie a few weeks ago. Caroline was a bridesmaid.”

      As they approached the pink awning with Aunt Augusta’s Midway Bakery spelled out in script, a woman leaned across the counter. Jack gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

      Matt began to feel as if he was in the twilight zone.

      “My wife, Augusta,” Jack said.

      Matt shook hands with the dark-haired woman and turned to Jack. “Are you related to everyone here?”

      Augusta drew her eyebrows together and looked at her husband.

      “We just talked with Caroline,” Jack explained. “She wants two cinnamon rolls.”

      “With maple frosting,” Matt added. Augusta and Jack both turned their attention to Matt and he felt his ears get hot. So I pay attention to detail, so what? “Could you also box up a dozen for my crew? I can’t go back there and eat in front of them unless I bring enough to share.”

      They ate their doughnuts while they walked back toward the construction site. Matt gave Jack the progress report, which didn’t differ much from the week before. Things were moving along on schedule, but it was still early. And worrying about the project really did keep Matt awake at night.

      Jack’s phone rang as they passed the Kiddie Land motorcycles chasing each other on a track. He answered, listened and dropped the phone back into the pocket of his suit coat. “I need to go to my office,” he said. “Will you deliver Caroline’s doughnuts?”

      “Sure.”

      Jack handed over a white pastry bag, waved and left the midway with long strides. He cut through Kiddie Land, his steps keeping time with the beeping horns and flashing lights.

      Matt headed toward the long fence where Caroline stood like a post, arms crossed. He held out the bag and was gratified to see her posture relax as she reached for it with a hint of a smile.

      “Thanks,” she said.

      “Anytime.”