“From the gentleman and lady over there,” he said, pointing.
We turned and saw two of the reporters from our press conference at city hall. They were easy to recognize because they both had red hair and freckles. The man was short and heavy and wore denim overalls with a Hawaiian shirt, while the woman was almost six feet tall and wore a bright yellow jumpsuit with turquoise high-top tennis shoes. She was the spiky redhead who had asked the question about access to the caves. Together they were the oddest, brightest, most interesting-looking couple I’d seen in a while. And for someone living in San Francisco, that was saying a lot.
They were watching us eagerly, and since it was too late to refuse the wine, we smiled and held up our glasses in a toast. The two grinned at each other and came to our table.
“We just wanted to say a quick thank-you,” the woman said, extending her hand. “I’m Darlene Smith.”
“And I’m Shawn Jones,” the man said. We all shook hands.
Darlene grinned. “We have a popular Bay Area news blog called Alias Smith and Jones. Not exactly original, but we’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of it.”
“It’s clever,” I said. “I’ve heard of it.”
“It’s got a pretty good following, if I do say so myself,” Shawn said.
“Listen,” Darlene said. “We won’t take up your time, but we wanted to thank you for recommending the photo exhibit. You were right—it answered a lot of questions. So . . . thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” I said politely. “I’m glad it helped.”
“Was that your mother working there?” Shawn asked. “With the blond ponytail? You two look a lot alike. Pretty.”
I gave him a questioning look. “I’m not sure . . .”
Darlene rolled her eyes and elbowed Shawn in the ribs. “Dude, you sound like a stalker.” She turned back to me. “Don’t listen to him. We met a lovely woman named Becky, and she told us her daughter had given a press conference at city hall. We figured it was you.”
“Ah.” I smiled tightly, wondering what in the world my mother had told them. They were, after all, reporters, and easy to talk to, it seemed. “Yeah, that’s my mom.”
“She’s a kick in the pants,” Shawn said, rubbing his side where Darlene’s elbow had made contact. “And a real beauty, just saying. She was doing the whole tour guide thing and working in a lot of her own opinions and thoughts about the caves. I wrote it all down. Really great stuff.”
“I hope so.” But inside I was thinking, Oh dear, I can’t wait for the exposé.
“We’re interrupting your dinner,” Darlene said suddenly, nailing her partner with another elbow to the rib cage. “Let’s go, Shawn. Just wanted to thank you guys again.”
“You’re welcome,” Derek said. “Thank you for the wine. Very kind of you.”
Darlene leaned closer to me and said, “Oh, honey. That voice of his makes me want to swoon.” Then she pulled Shawn away and waved over her shoulder. “Great to meet you two!”
Derek and I stared at each other for a full thirty seconds before we could speak again.
No doubt about it, we were going to need more wine.
Chapter Ten
By the time I left to meet Trudy’s friend Elizabeth for lunch on Thursday, I’d heard from four people who had been approached by Josh Atherton for interviews. According to China, who called me first thing, he was so nice, she couldn’t say no.
His questions were good ones, too. More penetrating and insightful than the usual, “What would you do with the treasure?” According to China, most of the reporters had been asking the same litany of questions.
“And Josh is awfully cute,” she added. “I was thinking I might set him up with Annie.”
Annie, Abraham’s once-estranged daughter, had met her father just before he died. A month after that, her mother had passed away from a long illness. Annie had decided to move to Dharma to regroup and start over, thanks to so many of Abraham’s friends welcoming her as they would a beloved family member. She moved into Abraham’s beautiful home, and, months later, she opened an upscale kitchenware shop on the Lane and business was booming. Annie had made a place for herself here.
“Josh is pretty cute,” I agreed. “But don’t forget he’s a reporter and he’s looking for ways to boost his story. I wouldn’t get too close to him until the story’s been written and published. And frankly, I doubt he’ll stick around once that happens.”
“Well, he’s nice and Annie’s lonely, so maybe I’ll drop a hint or two.”