Storm Surge Read Online Free PDF Page B

a step in the direction of the foyer and then stopped. “I have other folks I need to speak with, but I’ll come back. We’ll have tea then, all right?”
    Bea didn’t believe her. A stab of guilt shot through Paige’s chest. For her mother’s sake, she would come back. There’d be no talk about the sea, only about the flowers growing in Bea Hunt’s garden out front and maybe her mother’s days in school.
    “I will. I’ll be back.” Paige moved to the door, waving Bea back in her seat when she made to rise. “Do you want me to lock up on my way out?”
    “There’s no need. Who’s going to bother with an old lady?”
    Paige’s gut churned with seven kinds of shame despite her aggravation at Bea Hunt’s nonsense. She headed straight for her car and climbed behind the wheel, where she glanced through her list again. Other than Bea, the folks who’d answered their doors today did so in wary friendliness and had avoided inviting Paige in by stepping outside to speak with her. None of them had offered any information worth a damn.
    Spotting Bea peering through the parted lace curtains at her, Paige waved and pulled away from the curb. At the stop sign, she leaned the notepad against the steering wheel, studying the names the woman with the outrageous hair had crossed off, supposedly in the interest of keeping her from trouble with the townsfolk. What was it the woman had said? One way or another, these people were gone. Why on earth had Paige taken the word of someone who hadn’t been inclined to help her?
    She’d start with Alva Mabry. After the brief and unfortunate interview with Bea, Paige knew she’d probably regret seeking Alva out, but she turned right at the stop sign. Although Paige never heard her mother say anything about an Alva, the woman’s name and address had been in the shabby address book with an asterisk beside the entry in bold, purple ink. Paige was determined to find out the significance.
    * * * *
    Liam grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and pressed the cold bottle to the blister on his thumb. On the counter, the grilled burger sat on a plate beside cooked beets. Behind him, a floorboard creaked. He lifted the bottle. “Want one?”
    He received no answer. Of course he didn’t. What the hell was he thinking?
    Snatching up the plate, he turned and headed outside. On the porch, he shoved a box out of his way and lowered himself onto a badly painted Adirondack chair. Knees bent, he planted his bare feet on a wooden baluster on the railing. A chill swirl of air danced across his forearm, raising a rill of hair. He ignored it. Cold air dancing on an otherwise hot evening meant nothing. Not every odd occurrence was something to sweat about. Some were just nature.
    Liam bit off and chewed a meaty mouthful, then chased it down his throat with a deep swig of beer. He’d worked up quite the thirst working in the sun. Pretty soon, though, he’d have to lay off and let some of the repairs go for a while. He had other deadlines to meet. The kind that paid the bills.
    Movement caught his eye out on the purple-shadowed beach. He leaned to the side for a better look through the porch railing. He took another bite off the burger, chewing slowly. “Paige Waters,” he said around the mouthful. “What are you up to?”
    He watched her pace, a few steps one way and then back. She wore jeans rolled up to mid-calf and the water, foaming in evening shadow, purled around her ankles at the tide line. Pulled into a high ponytail, her curly brown hair bobbed and bounced with her head’s movement. She appeared to be talking animatedly. To herself.
    Liam continued to observe her as he finished his meal, his thoughts growing less clinical with every passing minute. Each time they interacted, his necessary detachment became harder to maintain—especially at this moment, with the double whammy of both curiosity and attraction. He set aside his plate and headed out onto the beach, beer in hand. He thought about