The Mystery Man of Whitehorse. B.J. Daniels
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large glass of orange juice. To make matters worse, she recalled her behaviour in front of the man in the school playground. He’d looked so familiar, but she couldn’t place him now any more than she could last night. Not that it mattered.
Taking a sip of orange juice, she eyed the phone. Even if she could have called Alyson—who would now be on a flight to Hawaii for her honeymoon—she wouldn’t have, she assured herself.
Besides, what would she say to her friend? By all appearances, Spencer seemed to be the perfect husband. Attentive, handsome, obviously educated, successful and well-off financially. Plus, Alyson adored him.
“You’re wrong about him,” Laci said with false conviction as she picked up the phone and dialed her sister’s cell. Laney was the sensible one. That’s why Laci always used her as a sounding board. And right now she needed sensible—even if her sister was on her own honeymoon.
BRIDGER DUVALL STOOD in the middle of the musty building in downtown Whitehorse, telling himself he should have gone with his first instinct and left town.
“What do you think?” the young Realtor asked. She was a cute blonde with a husband and at least one young son and was so green that he suspected this could be her first sale.
What did he think? He thought he should have his head examined. He looked around the building. The structure had been sitting empty for a couple of years at least. Which should have told him that opening any business in this town was more than a little risky, but a restaurant was crazy.
The building needed to be completely remodeled. Fortunately, he could do a lot of the work himself.
As he stood there, he could imagine the brick walls with art on them, cloth-covered tables along both sides with candles glowing, low music playing in the background and some alluring scents coming out of the kitchen at the back.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell his marinara sauce and hear the clatter of dishes, the murmur of voices and, of course, the comforting ding of the cash register.
“It would need a lot of work,” the Realtor said.
An understatement. “It would need a whole lot of work.” But even as he said it he knew he was going to take the place. There was plenty of light, the building was more than adequate for what he wanted to do and the price was right. With luck, he could be open before Christmas.
It wouldn’t be the restaurant of his dreams. Not in this isolated part of the state. But since he couldn’t leave here, he might as well do something while he was waiting.
“Let’s write up an offer,” he said and saw the Realtor’s surprise.
“Really?”
He laughed. “You talked me out of every other place in town.”
“Maybe I should try to talk you out of this one.”
“Don’t waste your breath.” He looked around him, seeing again the dust and dirt and peeling paint. Still…“There is something about this place.”
She followed his gaze, clearly not seeing it. “Well, if you’re sure this is the building you want…”
He smiled at her. “It is.” Wait until the residents of Old Town Whitehorse heard he was opening a restaurant. It would be a clear message to them: he was staying until he got what he wanted. Or until he went broke, he thought with a wry smile.
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA what time it is out here?” Laney Cavanaugh Giovanni asked, sounding half-asleep as she answered the phone.
Laci hadn’t thought about the time difference between Whitehorse, Montana, and Honolulu. “Sorry. I needed someone to talk to.”
“You should get a pet. Or just talk to yourself.”
“I am talking to myself. I just don’t like the answers I’m getting.” Laci could hear her sister get up, then the sound of glass doors opening and closing as Laney took the phone outside. She could imagine the view of the ocean, the smell of salty sea air, the lull of the surf below the balcony and the cries of the gulls. Every woman she knew was on her honeymoon.
“How was Alyson’s wedding?” Laney asked after a big yawn. But she sounded more awake. And it wasn’t as though Laci would have let her go back to sleep—and she would know that.
“It was…nice.”
“Nice?” Laney asked. “Okay, what happened? You didn’t do anything you shouldn’t have, did you?”
Now that she had her sister on the phone, Laci wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her. It sounded too nuts, even for her. “Of course not. Look, it’s nothing. Really. Sorry I woke you up. I should let you go.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. What is it?” her sister demanded.
Laci groaned. “You’re going to think I’ve lost my mind.”
“I already think you’re nuttier than peanut brittle,” Laney said, repeating something their grandmother Pearl always used to say before a stroke had left her incapacitated in a nursing home.
“Okay, something did happen. At least I think it did. It was probably just my imagination. I’m sure it was.”
“Laci!”
“It’s Alyson’s husband, Spencer.”
“Do not tell me he made a pass at you at the reception.”
“No,” Laci said. It was much worse than that. “I caught him looking at Alyson strangely.”
“How strangely?” Laney asked, sounding as if she was taking this seriously.
Laci realized she’d hoped that her sister would tell her what a fool she was and relieve her mind. “He looked as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her. As if he hated her. As if he wanted to harm her.” The words were out and she wished she could call them back. She felt as if she was being disloyal to her best friend. “I know it sounds round the bend—”
“How was he acting right before that?”
“That’s just it. He was laughing and smiling and dancing with her as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have married her. I’m sure I must be mistaken.”
She groaned, remembering the look Spencer had given her when he’d felt her watching him. He’d been upset, hadn’t he?
“That is really odd,” Laney said. “You’re sure he was looking at Alyson?”
“No. But since he doesn’t know anyone else in town, who else could he have been looking at? Like I said, it was just for an instant. I’m probably wrong.”
She waited for her sister to agree, but instead Laney asked, “Have you seen Alyson since?”
“No. Right after that they left on their honeymoon.” She recalled the way Spencer had hustled Aly off. “Just tell me that I’m silly to be worried about her.”
Her sister seemed to hesitate. “You’re silly to worry about her.”
The words lacked conviction but Laci felt better. “Speaking of honeymoons…”
“Yes, I probably should get back to mine,” Laney said, a smile in her voice.
“You know that I will always suspect that you eloped so you wouldn’t have to ask me to cater your reception,” Laci said.
Laney laughed. “I eloped because I’ve decided to become more impulsive, like you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Laci said in all seriousness. “One of us has to be the stable one. I like it when it’s you.”
“Eloping was the first impulsive thing I’ve ever done. You’re the one who always told me to go with my feelings instead of being so analytical.”
“I