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energy to tamp down the panic charging through her system, Will grabbed a half-empty bag of bottles from the recycle bin. “I need to take these out.”
    Charging through the kitchen, she swung open the back door and tossed the bag into the large blue Dumpster. Instead of returning to the kitchen, she ditched into the office to think through her next move. Only she’d forgotten Patty was in there catching up on paperwork. She and Tom had returned the day before, having driven all day Saturday to arrive on Sunday.
    “How’s it going out there?” Patty asked, peering over her reading glasses.
    “Good,” Will said, her voice higher than intended. She cleared her throat. “It’s fine. The lunch crowd was good for a Monday.”
    I may have to leave town , she thought.
    “Good to hear.” Patty laid down the bank statement in her hand and looked back to the computer screen. “You did an amazing job with the accounting system while we were gone. Where did you learn to keep books like this?”
    “Just picked it up as I’ve moved around.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue. “I’d better get back out there.”
    “Tom will be in around five to relieve you.” Patty removed her reading glasses. “Will, we really appreciate all the work you’ve put in for us. I don’t know how we ever got along without you.”
    Great. That would make cutting out without warning even harder.
    “I’m happy to help,” she said, exiting the office, then leaning her back against the cold metal door of the walk-in.
    Maybe Becks wouldn’t remember. Maybe she hadn’t seen the ads listing Will as a missing person. Not that those ads identified her by the name Will. After three deep breaths, she forced her heart rate to slow. There was no reason to jump to conclusions. So she looked familiar. That sort of thing happened all the time.
    One more deep breath and Will felt in control again. Stepping out of the kitchen, she was greeted by Jude’s broad smile.
    “Becks here says you recommend the mussels. We’ll take an order, and load me up with another beer, would you?”
    “I can do that.” Keying the order into the system, Will used the bar mirror to survey the pair.
    Becks, a hazel-eyed blonde dressed like something straight out of a fashion magazine, looked like one of those women who could get dressed with her eyes closed and still come out looking trendy. Hardly the type to play tourist on their tiny speck of sand. At one mile long and two miles wide, with no chains or franchise businesses of any kind, Anchor drew families, baby boomers looking for hokey fun and good fishing, and the occasional college crowd.
    Upper-crust twentysomethings like Becks and Jude seemed more the big city type. Manhattan, Paris, or London. So what had brought them to the bottom of the Outer Banks?
    Georgette appeared at the end of the bar, turned in a drink order, then returned to the floor. Will filled the order, lined the drinks on the bar for Georgette, then opted to remain at the far end until the appetizer showed up in the window.
    After the order was filled and she’d set the basket of mussels, two plates, and silverware in front of them, Becks asked, “What sights would you recommend to tourists around here?”
    The safer topic let Will breathe easier. “One of the biggest draws is the lighthouse. It’s out at the end of Lighthouse Road on the southwest corner of the island.”
    To Will’s surprise, Becks was taking notes. “Right. What else?”
    “Oh, um.” Will scratched her head. “There’s wild horses, the preservation museum, and the beaches.”
    The pen moved furiously across the notepad. “Good. That gives us someplace to start.” Becks elbowed Jude. “Why don’t you take a picture of our lovely bartender here? She’s like the island welcoming committee. We definitely need her picture.”
    Jude dropped a half-eaten mussel and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Excellent idea.” He pulled a very professional-looking camera from