An Unlikely Family

She opened the door to her landlady’s welcoming smile and a muffin nestled in a cloth napkin. “Just made these this morning,” Hester said. “Blueberry.”

Evie took the muffin. “Thanks. It smells delicious.”

“And that’s not all, dear,” Hester said, thrusting a vellum envelope at Evie’s chest. “This was just delivered for you.”

Evie’s name was scripted across the front. “Who is it from?”

“Our handsome chief of police, Jack Hogan, dropped it off, so I assume it’s from his wife, our mayor.”

“Oh? That would be Claire.”

Hester nodded. “Hope I didn’t wake you, dear, but you’ve already missed our famous sunrise. I didn’t think you’d want to sleep through the spectacle of the dolphins swimming just off shore.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Sister and I are outside now. Why don’t you bring your muffin and join us?”

“I will. Just give me a moment.”

Evie shut the door, opened the envelope and unfolded a note in clear, precise handwriting. It was signed, “Claire Hogan,” the woman Evie had spoken with on several occasions.

She read the note while she filled the teakettle. Claire was welcoming her to the island and asking her to meet her and some friends for lunch at the Heron Point Hotel. Evie wondered how Claire knew she had arrived, but then she realized that in a town this size, her escapades at the school last evening might have become a topic for local gossip. Or, more likely, Jack Hogan had read a report of the incident when he’d come to work this morning and told his wife.

She filled a mug with tea, took the portable phone to the dinette set and dialed the number on the invitation. The mayor answered on the first ring. “Hello? Claire Hogan.”

Evie identified herself and confirmed that she would be delighted to meet at the hotel at noon. The prospect of making female friends cheered her. She dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and went outside to watch the dolphins, the first of many experiences she never could have had if she’d stayed in Detroit. She’d work on those educational goals later.

CLAIRE HOGAN LOOKED pretty much as Evie had pictured her—a combination of sophistication and small-town charm. She was tall and slim, with blond hair pulled back in a smooth style. She’d been the mayor of Heron Point for two years and, Evie decided, the town couldn’t have a better representative.

Her two friends were quite different from Claire, but it was obvious the three were bound by a deep emotional connection. Petula Sweeney, Claire’s aunt, readily admitted to being a “sexy sixty” and newly married to fishing charter captain, Finn Sweeney, who just happened to be the father of the third woman in Claire’s luncheon group. Helen Sweeney-Anderson, a new mother, was blond, wiry and outspoken. Evie liked them all right away.

Helen took a sip of Coke, while rocking a baby stroller gently with her toe and complaining that she couldn’t wait to be done with breast-feeding so she could have a beer once in a while. “So what do you think of Heron Point so far?” she asked.

“It’s great,” Evie said. “This morning I saw my first dolphins not in an aquarium.”

“That’s the best thing about the Pink Ladies,” Pet said. “The dolphin show. Every morning like clockwork. It’s almost as if the dolphins know they’re supposed to entertain Hester’s guests.”

Claire leaned forward. “There’s a lot to like about this quirky little town, Evie. The longer you stay, the more you realize our island is quite unique.”

Evie smiled. “I think I already know that. I looked for an office supply store and a supermarket on my way in this morning. I didn’t see either one.”

“The Island Market has fresh produce and meat,” Helen said, “and you can get pens and paper at the Island Drug Store. For anything else, you have to go to Office Max in Micopee.”

“What about a beauty salon?”

“We have a lady who cuts hair in her kitchen,” Claire offered. “I go to her for trims, but at least four times a year my daughter, Jane, and I get the royal treatment at a spa in Gainesville. You’ll have to come with us next time.”

The conversation switched to each woman’s occupation. Petula worked as a waitress at the Green Door Café and said she wouldn’t quit no matter how much Finn pleaded with her to stay at home. “I get to be first to learn all the gossip,” she said. “I can usually just look at our customers and tell what’s going on in their lives.”

Helen laughed. “Pet is our resident psychic—or at least that’s what she wants you to believe.” She looked at the baby sleeping in the stroller. “But she was wrong about this one. Until the last moment she thought this baby would be a girl. I never even asked the doctor the sex since Ethan and I were so confident of Pet’s prediction. And yet here he lies, Thomas Finn Anderson in the flesh.”

Pet shook her head and chuckled. “I don’t know how I missed this one. I was so sure.” She laid her hand on top of the baby’s. “But I’ve changed enough diapers since Thomas was born to know without a doubt that he’s male.”

“So you’re a stay-at-home mom?” Evie asked Helen.

“Actually, I’m a college student. I’ve just earned enough credits to be an official sophomore.” Helen laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m a bit old for keggers and sorority rushes, but better late than never, I always say.”

“Absolutely. What are you studying?”

“I’m going to be a teacher.”

“Really? You’ll have to apply at Heron Point Elementary when you get your degree,” Evie said. “I have a sixth sense about people, and I can tell you’d make a great teacher.”

“Thanks, but I’m kind of an English freak. I’m going for my secondary certificate.”

The waiter brought a tray of scones and filled each woman’s cup with tea. Evie took a sip, savoring the hint of orange flavor. “This morning when I was dolphin-watching, I never thought I’d be enjoying real English tea three hours later,” she said.

Claire gave her a coy smile. “Like I said, there’s a lot about Heron Point that will surprise you. Have you met anyone besides us, and Hester Poole, of course?”

Figuring that Claire knew about her encounter with one of her police officers the night before, Evie spooned a generous helping of jelly onto her scone and thought about her answer. The words describing Billy Muldoone caught in her throat, however, when she glanced up and saw the man himself standing at the entrance, all neat, pressed, decidedly official and every bit as handsome as he’d looked the day before. She swallowed, nodded toward the doorway and said, “As a matter of fact…”

All three women followed her gaze. “You’ve met Billy?” Helen said.

“I did. He caught me red-footed, prowling around the school last night before dark. The back door was unlocked, so I just walked in for a quick look-around.” She smiled. “He didn’t seem to like it much.”

Helen laughed. “That’s our Billy. And I bet he didn’t believe a word of your story, either.”

“Something like that. For a minute I thought he was going to—” she lowered her voice in her best imitation of Billy’s growl “—take me downtown for questioning.”

“I know what that’s like,” Helen said. “I’ve had my share of run-ins with Heron Point’s finest.” She licked jelly off her finger and whispered, “Don’t look now, but he spotted us and he’s headed this way.”

Evie quickly buried her face in her teacup, afraid the flush in her cheeks would be evident to everyone at the table. Good grief, she shouldn’t be having a physical reaction like this. She hardly knew the man, and he was married.

Billy ambled over. Out of the corner of her eye, Evie watched him take off his cap and stick it under his arm. “Afternoon, ladies.”

“Hi, Billy,” Claire said, her tone bright. “I understand you’ve met our new school principal.”

“Sure have.”

Evie felt his full attention on her, and her heartbeat kicked up a notch. She returned her teacup to its saucer and risked looking up at him.

“So you survived your first night in town, I see,” he said.

Relieved when her voice was calm and even, she said, “I did. No problems.”

“Good. You’ve got a fine group of tour guides here. They’ll tell you how it really is.”

“Oh, yeah, she can count on us,” Helen said. “We’ll tell Evie what she needs to know.”

The waiter returned to the table with a brown bag in his hand. “Hey, Billy, your take-out is ready.”

“Okay, thanks.” He stared at Evie a moment longer. “Nice seeing you again.”

“Same here.”

He left the dining room, and Evie watched out the front window as he crossed the street toward the Heron Point City Hall. When she looked back at her companions, they were all smiling. “What?”

“He likes you,” Helen said.

Evie’s mouth dropped open before she said, “No, I don’t think so.” She was about to explain that she knew Billy had a family, but Helen interrupted.

“Of course he does. He didn’t come over here to check out the kind of tea we were having. His interest was all on you.”

Pet flipped her long platinum braid over her shoulder. “Be fair, Helen. Maybe Billy was just being friendly. His days as a womanizer are pretty much behind him now. And he’s a good person. He’s just been unlucky in love.”

“That’s right,” Claire agreed. “And he’s hardworking. He’s eating his lunch in the squad car. That shows dedication.”

Helen snickered. “More likely he’s avoiding that control freak of a mother who lives with him. I wouldn’t go home to lunch with her, either.”

Evie leaned back, trying to catch a glimpse of the cruiser through the window. “He lives with his mother?”

“Yes, he does,” Claire said. “And his daughter.”

So this was Billy’s family? His mother and daughter?

“By the way, Evie,” Helen said, “you’ll get to know Billy’s daughter, Gemma. She’ll be in the fourth grade this year.”

“Oh, really? I look forward to meeting her.”

Helen sent a devious glance to her friends.

“Okay, Helen,” Evie said, “is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Do not influence this woman one way or the other,” Claire said. “It wouldn’t be right.”

The baby woke and started to fuss. Helen picked him up. “I guess you’ll draw your own conclusions soon enough,” she said. “Just remember that name—Gemma Scarlett Muldoone.” Settling the baby against her shoulder, she added, “And you might want to put Billy’s cell phone number on your speed dial.”

CHAPTER THREE

SATURDAY NIGHT YAWNED ahead of Evie like the flat Florida landscape she’d driven through two days before. She’d spent the day at the school organizing her work space and adding personal touches. The small office was beginning to feel like home.

She wished she could say the same for Hester Poole’s frilly little haven. But Evie didn’t think she could stand sipping another iced tea from a flowery pink tumbler or bathing with another of the rose-shaped, quarter-size soaps Hester provided with a ruffled shower cap. And surfing the eight channels the outdoor antenna picked up wasn’t any more appealing.

If she were in Detroit, Evie would be spending Saturday night with one of her few remaining friends who still lived in the city, or going on a don’t-get-your-hopes-up date, or hitting one of the local cineplexes. A movie wasn’t an option in Heron Point. There wasn’t a single theater in town.

She supposed she could wander down Hester’s brick-paved walkway to the Gulf and watch the tide roll in, but she was starving. She decided to go into town to the Green Door Café for supper. Maybe she’d run into Pet Sweeney.

What Evie hadn’t counted on was the volume of traffic in town on a Saturday night. After two slow passes down Island Avenue, she finally spotted a car pulling out of a space. She did what she always criticized other drivers for doing—she sat in the street with her blinker on to nab the spot before anyone else could. And she did her best to ignore the drivers in the line behind her.

When she got out of her car, she noticed she was close to Wear It Again, the clothing store owned by her new friend, Claire. Evie walked up to the display window and looked inside. Claire had said she ran a vintage shop. All the selections Evie could see through the glass were elegant and unusual, and according to the tags within sight, some once belonged to Hollywood celebrities.

The store was crowded, but Evie ventured in anyway. She wouldn’t stay long, just say hi to Claire. A young woman signaled to her when she came inside. “Be right with you,” she said.

“Hi, I’m Sue Ellen,” she said a few minutes later, unnecessarily. She wore a name tag on the lapel of her shabby chic jacket. “Can I help you?”

“I stopped by to see Claire,” Evie explained.

“Oh, she’s not here. She’s hardly ever here on a Saturday night.” She nodded toward another girl who had pinned her name tag to a wide band around her hair. “We handle things on weekend nights.”

Evie thanked her and left the shop. Imagine not being present for what must be the biggest sales night of the week. Claire must have a lot of confidence in her employees or, more likely, she wasn’t as concerned about the income as many of the island’s shopkeepers appeared to be.

Evie walked the three blocks to the Green Door, dodging couples holding hands or families with strollers. She hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for a table since it was nearly eight o’clock. The restaurant was busy, but Evie managed to grab a small table by the window. She asked the mature waitress if Pet Sweeney was working.

“Oh, honey,” the woman said, “Pet only works in the daytime. She vowed when she got married she’d never volunteer for a Friday or Saturday night again.” The waitress flipped open her order pad and pulled a pencil from behind her ear. “A lot of the local employees avoid the Avenue on weekends, which is fine with me. It gives us Micopee gals a chance at the biggest tips.”

Evie ordered a hamburger and a raspberry iced tea. So that’s it, she thought, when the waitress had walked away. The locals prefer Heron Point during the week when the tourists weren’t invading.

Since Claire and Pet weren’t in town, and since Helen lived more than an hour’s drive away in Gainesville, Evie had exhausted her supply of new friends who could teach her the fine art of livin’ easy. She bit into a juicy burger and smiled to herself. Unless I count Officer Billy Muldoone, she thought. He must be around town tonight. And I suppose I could call him my friend. She swallowed a sweet gulp of tea. He did find my earring.

She was still thinking about Billy after she left the Green Door and had resumed window-shopping. When she was opposite the largest building in town, the hotel where she’d had lunch yesterday, a commotion near the sidewalk café stopped her. In the middle of it was the tall, broad-shouldered Muldoone.

He saw her at the same time and greeted her in that booming baritone that muted every other sound on the street. “Hey, there, Evie. Come on over.”

She approached slowly since it was obvious Billy was on duty and, in fact, was performing one of his legal responsibilities at that very moment. She stopped a few feet from the entrance to the café. Billy propped his foot on a bench next to a man who was slouched forward with his hands behind his back. Billy rested his elbow on his bent knee. “What are you doing out tonight?” he asked Evie.

She couldn’t resist staring at the man she assumed was Billy’s captive. He was a scruffy-looking character perhaps in his mid-thirties. Though his head was down, she could see a scowl on his face. She noticed, too, a strand of white plastic sticking out from behind his waist. The new type of restraining device used by police forces.

“I’m, uh, just wandering.”

Billy smiled. “Nice night for it.”

She blinked a couple of times. This was the first apprehended criminal she’d seen that wasn’t on the eleven o’clock news. “So what are you doing?”

“Had to grab this guy,” Billy said. “And a couple others earlier. Been a busy night.”

The man looked up at Billy and barked an expletive.

“Watch it,” Billy said. “We’ve got ladies all around us. Maybe if I tighten those restraints, it’ll encourage you to mind your manners.”

The man stared at the sidewalk.

The knee of Billy’s uniform was ripped through, showing bruised flesh beneath. And when she looked more closely at him, she realized that his elbow had been scraped raw, too. “What happened to you?” she asked.

He shrugged one well-rounded shoulder. “It’s nothing. I had to use a Pensacola High School tackling move to get this fella to slow up.” He pointed down, and for the first time Evie noticed his criminal wore a pair of ragged socks on his feet and no shoes.

“Look under there,” Billy said, and Evie bent to see under the bench. “He was wearing those Rollerblade skates, which meant he had a good head start on me.”

“You caught him when he was on inline skates?” she asked, amazed that a man Billy’s size could churn up that much speed.

“The crowd slowed him down some,” Billy admitted. “That’s the thing about these weekend pickpockets. They don’t take into account that there are disadvantages to stealing in a mob.” He grinned at her. “Or the fact that my mother had a willow tree in her backyard, and avoiding her switch taught me a good deal about hauling a—” he paused “—running fast.”

He looked over her shoulder toward the street and nudged the man beside him. “Time to go, Eugene,” he said. “Our ride’s here.”

The glossy-white porch railings around the café reflected the blue and red cruiser lights, and Evie stepped out of the way with the rest of the crowd. When the car stopped, a young female officer got out. She walked up and grabbed the pickpocket by the elbow while Billy tugged him off the bench.

“Hey, Gail, say hello to Evie,” Billy said as he pushed the top of his captive’s head to lower the guy into the back seat. “She’s our new principal.”

Gail, a cute yet officious-looking brunette about Evie’s height, stuck out her hand. “Heard about you. Welcome to town.”

“Thanks.”

Billy called to a civilian on the porch. “You mind tossing me those skates and that pocketbook?”

The unsuccessful getaway wheels and a Louis Vuitton bag came sailing over to Billy. “Much obliged,” Billy said to the tourist. He handed the purse to Gail. “You’ll see that lady gets this back?”

She nodded.

“Tell her not to let this spoil her impression of Heron Point. The only reason this guy was able to grab her purse without somebody stopping him was because he was wearing those damn wheels. I’m going to suggest a new code at the next town council meeting. No skates after 8:00 p.m. on weekends.”

“Good idea,” Gail said. “You sure you don’t want me to ride into Micopee with you? I can call Jack to come in and spell me.”

“No. Don’t bother him. I’ll pick up Lou, and he can help me escort Eugene as well as those other two guys at city hall. We’ve just got one holding cell on the island,” he explained to Evie, “and that’s only because Jack insisted on having it built when he became chief of police. So when we’ve got more than one perp, we’ve got to take them to the county jail in Micopee.”

Raised in an area where the jails were generally larger than high schools, Evie simply said, “Oh.”

Billy winked at her. “I’d ask you to ride along, but the front seat next to me will be occupied.”

She smiled uncertainly back at him. “That’s quite all right. I understand completely.”

He slid into the driver’s seat of the cruiser. “I hear you’re staying out at the Pink Ladies.”

“That’s right.”

“Maybe I’ll give you a call sometime, see how you’re doing. I’ve lived in Heron Point a good long while, and I can tell you about the area.”

From the backseat, a nasal voice mimicked, “Maybe I’ll give you a call sometime.” Billy glared over his shoulder through a protective screen. “You watch yourself back there. It’s a dark, lonely ride to Micopee. One more missing person along that stretch of roadway wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow around here.” He nodded to Gail. “You see Evie gets back to her car okay, will you? We’ve got some smart mouths in town tonight.”

“You got it, Billy.”

The two women watched him drive away, and Evie realized she hadn’t responded to his offer. Maybe it was just as well. She heard Gail sigh beside her and turned to look at her. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Isn’t he wonderful?”

Evie didn’t quite know how to answer that. She hadn’t decided if Billy Muldoone was any part of wonderful, though she now knew that at least one woman in town thought he was all that and more. “He seems to be an excellent police officer,” she said, confident that the man she’d just seen in action would have no trouble with the criminals he was hauling off to jail.

AT FIVE O’CLOCK Sunday afternoon Billy drove down Island Avenue in the squad car and convinced himself that it was quiet enough to go home. Most of the tourists had left, and the shopkeepers had pulled their merchandise in from the sidewalks. It had been a busy couple of days, even for an August weekend. The weather had been balmy with no rain, no doubt attracting last-minute visitors.

He rolled down the window and rested his arm on the car door, enjoying the warm refreshing air that flowed through the cruiser and erased the sour smell of cheap alcohol from the inebriated petty thieves he’d picked up. He didn’t know exactly when he’d become the unofficial second-in-command on the police force, but he was proud that Jack trusted him so much.

Thankfully they had a good crew. Gail was a competent cop even if she was sweet on him. Billy admired Gail, but he would never date anyone on the force. Personal relations didn’t mix with official responsibilities, especially for cops. Ricky, the transplant from the Orlando P.D. Jack had hired when he took over, was working out great. Lou was a willing and satisfactory service aide, and among the five permanent members of the Heron Point department and the couple of extras they hired on particularly busy weekends, the town was enjoying low crime and dependable service.

But now, as he was most times at the end of the tourist rush, Billy was tired and ready to settle back into his recliner and sniff whatever his ma was preparing for dinner. Mulligan stew probably, since it was Sunday and she never let her family forget they were Irish.

Beginning to sweat, Billy jacked the A/C another notch, taking advantage of the salty air outside and the cool, recycled air coming from the vents. He took off his hat and tossed it next to him on the bench seat. He could practically smell the roast beef simmering now. He may have some complaints about living with his mother after so many years of independence, but no one would ever catch him bad-mouthing her cooking.

As he approached the turn to Gulfview Road he considered detouring away from the middle of town, where he lived in a hundred-year-old clapboard house on what his mother called one of the prettiest little streets she’d ever seen. Billy would have much preferred the unobstructed view of the water from a property on Gulfview Road. Heck, with the price of real estate escalating in Heron Point, he doubted he’d ever own a piece of the Gulf shore now.

But Claire and Jack did. And so did Hester, whose fancy Pink Ladies cut a flowery trail all the way to the water. Where Evie Gaynor was renting.

Billy turned onto Gulfview Road. Maybe he’d stop and pay Evie a visit. On the other hand, he’d told her he’d call, so that’s probably what he should do.

Since he’d already made the turn and since the water looked so blue and endless and since dinner wouldn’t be ready for at least an hour at the Muldoone house, Billy veered into Claire and Jack’s driveway. He’d give Jack an informal report, maybe have a beer and talk for a few minutes—who knows? Maybe the conversation would lead to the new principal.

He pressed the button on his cell phone that connected him home. “Hey, Daddy,” his daughter answered.

“Hi there, Gemma, what’s goin’ on?”