loved the birth of a new season, whether it was the first spear of green in spring or the first drift of snow in winter. But today anxiety plagued her so she wished she’d stopped at Maureen’s, talked her friend into going into the village with her.
It was stupid to feel she was being watched. Just a residual reaction to what had happened at Bluff House. And the lighthouse, she thought as she turned to study its sturdy white lance. No one was following her, though she couldn’t resist a look over her shoulder, or the rising chill up her spine.
She knew these houses, knew most of the people in them, or who owned them. She passed Surfside Bed & Breakfast, fought off a dragging dread and a sudden urge to turn around, run back home.
She wouldn’t be chased away by her own silly thoughts. Wouldn’t deny herself the pleasure of her walks in the place she’d made her home.
And she wouldn’t think of being grabbed from behind in a dark, empty house.
The sun shone, birds called, holiday traffic chugged by.
But she let out a relieved breath when she entered the main village with its shops and restaurants, and people.
It pleased her to see customers milling around the window of the gift shop. Tourists taking their holiday at the beach, families like Eli’s spending the weekend. She started to go inside, then saw Heather behind the counter.
She stepped back, started to walk on. “Crap,” she muttered. “Just crap.”
She hadn’t seen the shop clerk since Heather had run out of yoga class in tears. Heather hadn’t made the in-home practice, nor the next on her schedule. And inside, Abra harbored enough anger and resentment to prevent her from calling to check.
Negative energy, she told herself, and stopped. Time to expel it, rebalance her chi. And maybe she’d break that block after all.
In any case, Heather was who she was. There was no point in hoarding bad feelings, on either side.
She made herself walk back, step inside. Good smells, pretty light, the strong sense of local arts and crafts. Take that mood, she ordered herself, and go with it.
She waved casually to the other clerk, noted the woman’s slight wince as she continued to wait on a customer. No doubt Heather had unloaded her perceived slights on her coworkers.
Who could blame her, really?
Deliberately, Abra made her way back to Heather, waited patiently as she was studiously ignored. When Heather finished ringing up a sale, Abra stepped forward.
“Hi. Busy today. I just need five minutes. I can wait until you have it.”
“I really can’t say when that might be. We have customers.” Stiff, jaw tight, Heather skirted around the counter and clipped her way to a trio of women.
Temper rose up high enough to actually tickle the base of Abra’s throat. She breathed it down again, then impulsively picked up a set of handblown wineglasses she’d admired for weeks but couldn’t really afford.
“Excuse me.” With a smile plastered on her face, Abra took the glasses over to Heather. “Could you ring me up? I just love these. Aren’t they great?” she said to the other women, and got admiring assents even as one of them shifted to pick up a set of champagne flutes by the same artist.
“These would make a wonderful wedding gift.”
“Wouldn’t they?” All smiles, Abra turned one of her glasses in the light. “I just love the braided stems. You can’t go wrong with anything in Buried Treasures,” Abra added, beaming toward Heather as she held out the glasses.
“Of course. If you have any questions, just ask,” Heather said to the shoppers, then walked back to the counter.
“Now I’m a customer,” Abra announced. “First, we’ve missed you at class.”
Jaw still tight, Heather got bubble wrap from under the counter, began to roll it around a glass. “I’ve been busy.”
“We’ve missed you,” Abra repeated, and laid a hand over Heather’s. “I’m sorry we argued, and I said things that upset you and hurt your feelings.”
“You made it seem like I was just a busybody, and I— The police were there.”
“I know, and now they’re not because he didn’t do anything. Someone broke into Bluff House twice, that we’re sure of. The first time, whoever it was grabbed me.”
“I know. It’s just another reason I’m concerned.”
“I appreciate your concern, but Eli’s not the one who tried to hurt me. He was in Boston. And he’s not the one who . . .” She took a quick glance around in case any of