have
been Mason. He handed Coco the bottle.”
Jane rolled her shoulders forward to stretch.
“Poor girl. I hope he doesn’t take her home.”
“I bet she gets to stay the night.” The guitar
player leaned on his instrument and stared into the low flames.
“Maybe so.” Jane wasn’t convinced. “Maybe Taylor
will take her home.”
“Taylor’s not going to Coco’s house.” The guitar
player spoke quietly.
“Why not?”
“Coco’s brother’s moved back.”
“Taylor’s not a fan?”
Guitar guy took a long, deep breath. “So they
say.”
Jake looked up from his phone. “What happened?”
“Prom night, last year. Nothing good came out of
it.”
“So…”
The guy with the guitar stood up. “So I guess we
kick sand on the fire and go home.” He hefted his guitar over his shoulder and
walked toward the fire.
Jake grabbed a shovel that lay nearby and
started to shift the sand onto the fire. “You lived here long?”
“Yup.” The guy had been about to walk away, but
paused. “You?”
“Just vacationing.” Jake stabbed the shovel into
the sand. “Got anything to carry water in? I’d like to soak this before we walk
away.”
The guy glanced over his shoulder. “Tide will
come up and put it out.”
“I like to be sure. It’s been a bad summer.” He
looked around as best he could, but the beach was dark.
Jane stamped her foot on the sand-covered
remains of the fire a few times. “I’m Jane.” She offered him her hand. “It does
look pretty out, I guess.”
“I’m Miller.” He scratched his neck. “See you.”
“Hold on a sec. Is there anything left in that
water bottle?” She gestured to a bottle near where they had been sitting.
Miller shrugged. “Don’t know. It wasn’t mine.”
He nodded at Jake. “See you.” He walked off in the other direction this time.
Jane picked up the bottle. It was mostly full,
so she drizzled it over the sand-covered fire. “I don’t think we made much
headway tonight.”
Jake took her hand. “I agree. Let’s cut our
losses with the beach-fire thing and try something new in the morning.”
CHAPTER 7
Around ten the next morning they wandered into
the local library—called Warrenton, but in a nearby town. The little old
schoolhouse-shaped building seemed like the right place to chew the fat with
retired locals.
The building was broken into sections by tall
wooden bookshelves like a used bookstore. The dusty vanilla smell of the
library books combined with the musty but welcoming air of an old building made
Jane want to settle in with something by Doyle. Instead, she wandered to a
small table with four computers, where two gray-haired men sat reading news on
the Internet.
Jane pulled up a chair at an empty computer and
smiled. “Good morning.”
“With all the fires in Washington you think this
is a good morning?” A thin-nosed man with bushy eyebrows stared at her over his
half-rimmed glasses.
“She’s just being polite.” The other man was
round, his cheeks rosy and his hair thin on top.
Jane stared at the screen for a moment, then
chuckled. “I don’t suppose you all know the password to log on, do you?”
“Gotta use your library card. These are for
library patrons.”
“Ah. Don’t suppose a Multnomah County card works?”
“Nope.”
“Then where can a girl get the news around
here?” Jane leaned back in her chair.
“Don’t you kids ever read the paper?” the one
with glasses asked.
“Why should we? You’re not,” she said it with a
grin.
“She’s got a point there.” The rosy-cheeked man
laughed. “So what news do you want to know? I bet me and Paul could tell you.”
“I want to know why an ambulance drove past our
place onto the beach last night.”
“Oh, those kids were doing drugs again, I guess,”
Rosy Cheeks said.
So gossip wasn’t that fast among the library
set. “You guys have a bad problem with drugs in town?”
“Some years are worse than others.”
“How’s this
been Mason. He handed Coco the bottle.”
Jane rolled her shoulders forward to stretch.
“Poor girl. I hope he doesn’t take her home.”
“I bet she gets to stay the night.” The guitar
player leaned on his instrument and stared into the low flames.
“Maybe so.” Jane wasn’t convinced. “Maybe Taylor
will take her home.”
“Taylor’s not going to Coco’s house.” The guitar
player spoke quietly.
“Why not?”
“Coco’s brother’s moved back.”
“Taylor’s not a fan?”
Guitar guy took a long, deep breath. “So they
say.”
Jake looked up from his phone. “What happened?”
“Prom night, last year. Nothing good came out of
it.”
“So…”
The guy with the guitar stood up. “So I guess we
kick sand on the fire and go home.” He hefted his guitar over his shoulder and
walked toward the fire.
Jake grabbed a shovel that lay nearby and
started to shift the sand onto the fire. “You lived here long?”
“Yup.” The guy had been about to walk away, but
paused. “You?”
“Just vacationing.” Jake stabbed the shovel into
the sand. “Got anything to carry water in? I’d like to soak this before we walk
away.”
The guy glanced over his shoulder. “Tide will
come up and put it out.”
“I like to be sure. It’s been a bad summer.” He
looked around as best he could, but the beach was dark.
Jane stamped her foot on the sand-covered
remains of the fire a few times. “I’m Jane.” She offered him her hand. “It does
look pretty out, I guess.”
“I’m Miller.” He scratched his neck. “See you.”
“Hold on a sec. Is there anything left in that
water bottle?” She gestured to a bottle near where they had been sitting.
Miller shrugged. “Don’t know. It wasn’t mine.”
He nodded at Jake. “See you.” He walked off in the other direction this time.
Jane picked up the bottle. It was mostly full,
so she drizzled it over the sand-covered fire. “I don’t think we made much
headway tonight.”
Jake took her hand. “I agree. Let’s cut our
losses with the beach-fire thing and try something new in the morning.”
CHAPTER 7
Around ten the next morning they wandered into
the local library—called Warrenton, but in a nearby town. The little old
schoolhouse-shaped building seemed like the right place to chew the fat with
retired locals.
The building was broken into sections by tall
wooden bookshelves like a used bookstore. The dusty vanilla smell of the
library books combined with the musty but welcoming air of an old building made
Jane want to settle in with something by Doyle. Instead, she wandered to a
small table with four computers, where two gray-haired men sat reading news on
the Internet.
Jane pulled up a chair at an empty computer and
smiled. “Good morning.”
“With all the fires in Washington you think this
is a good morning?” A thin-nosed man with bushy eyebrows stared at her over his
half-rimmed glasses.
“She’s just being polite.” The other man was
round, his cheeks rosy and his hair thin on top.
Jane stared at the screen for a moment, then
chuckled. “I don’t suppose you all know the password to log on, do you?”
“Gotta use your library card. These are for
library patrons.”
“Ah. Don’t suppose a Multnomah County card works?”
“Nope.”
“Then where can a girl get the news around
here?” Jane leaned back in her chair.
“Don’t you kids ever read the paper?” the one
with glasses asked.
“Why should we? You’re not,” she said it with a
grin.
“She’s got a point there.” The rosy-cheeked man
laughed. “So what news do you want to know? I bet me and Paul could tell you.”
“I want to know why an ambulance drove past our
place onto the beach last night.”
“Oh, those kids were doing drugs again, I guess,”
Rosy Cheeks said.
So gossip wasn’t that fast among the library
set. “You guys have a bad problem with drugs in town?”
“Some years are worse than others.”
“How’s this
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