I whipped around, instantly guilt-ridden for spying on the private interaction. My stomach did a little dip when I saw who was standing inches away from me. “Oh. Hi, Mac. Yes, I’m having a good time, considering the circumstances. How about you?”
“This is a great send-off. The old man would’ve loved it. He’d have been right over there, spinning tales.”
I smiled. “He told some good ones.”
“I’ll say.” He gazed at me. “Why’d you look so guilty just now?”
Darn it, the man read me too easily. “Me? Nothing. No reason.”
He laughed. “Irish, you’re a terrible liar. I saw that couple talking outside. And I saw you observing them closely. I’m just wondering why you seem so mortified about it.”
“Because,” I whispered, annoyed to be pinned down, “I didn’t believe my dad when he told me Jesse had a girlfriend, but he was right. And now I’m wondering why we never met her before today. She said that Jesse didn’t want to bring her around, that he was guarded about his privacy. And I know that’s true, but I’m not sure it makes sense when it comes to a woman like Althea. If she was interested in him, I think he would’ve risked stirring up gossip just to show her off to the people in town. But he never did, even after six months of dating. I mean, she’s very pleasant and I don’t have any reason to disbelieve her, but . . .”
“But you’re suspicious. Is she lying? What’s her story? And more important, what does she want from Jane?”
I pouted. Nothing got past him. “Maybe.”
“Relax,” he said with an easy grin. “Suspicion is a good thing. It can keep you alive.”
I thought about that for a moment and decided he was right. Morbid, but right. “I guess that’s true. But I still feel bad about spying on her just now.”
“It’s human nature. Let it go.”
“You probably spy on people all the time.”
“Of course I do. It’s fun. And people-watching helps me develop the characters in my books.” Gazing around, he lowered his voice. “Just look at the plethora of peculiar people in this room alone.”
I smiled at him. “Are you plotting a murder?”
“Always,” he murmured, and continued to scan the room as he sipped his beer.
I followed his gaze. “I see plenty of suspects.”
“It’s an embarrassment of riches.” He grinned. “I love this town.”
I had to admit we did have a few eccentric types, and to my dismay, I saw one of them heading straight for Jane, who stood alone by the French doors that opened onto the Inn’s small terrace and pool area. I looked back at Mac. “Excuse me for just a minute.”
I rushed across the room in time to hear the man wheeze Jane’s name and see her turn.
“Oh. Hello, Mr. Clemens,” Jane said. Her smile was forced, for good reason.
“Cuckoo” Clemens, the owner of the Treasure Chest antique shop on Main Street, was about to corral Jane. Clemens was a local fixture but not particularly well loved. He advertised nationally on late-night cable TV and had admittedly brought a lot of business to Lighthouse Cove. He always dressed in bird feathers on TV and made a big deal about his prices being “so low they’re cuckoo.”
Not to put too fine a spin on it, but the man was an abrasive blowhard. On television he appeared to be tall, but in reality, he was about my height, maybe five foot eight, and sort of skinny, although he came across as bulkier on-screen. Maybe the feathers added ten pounds. These days he considered himself the main reason Lighthouse Cove was a successful resort town. Some of us wondered how many potential visitors he was scaring away each year.
“Hi, Cuckoo,” I said, gently shoving my way into the space between him and Jane. “How’s it going?”
“Good day, Miss Shannon,” he said. “Just paying my regards to the lady of the hour.”
“That’s so nice, but she’s had a long day and was just about to go take a nap. Weren’t you, Jane?”
Jane gave me a fulminating look that I interpreted loosely as A nap? Are you insane? Buzz off. I’m perfectly capable of handling this clown.
So I gave her a look back that said, You sound a little cranky. Maybe you really do need a nap.
Before she could silently flip me off, I turned to Cuckoo. “How’s the junk business, Cuckoo?”
“I sell antiques and business is booming,” he said with his teeth clenched. “Look, I’ve got something to discuss with Jane here, so you ought to mosey along and—”
Jane cut him off. “Shannon’s my best friend, Mr. Clemens. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of her.”
I grinned at Jane, knowing she’d give me hell later.
“Fine.” He ignored me and said to Jane, “I want to know what your plans are for liquidating the necklace.”
I almost laughed. I couldn’t believe Cuckoo had bought in to Jesse’s old fib about finding a necklace. I had to hand it to Jane, though. She didn’t bat an eyelash. “Necklace?”
“Don’t play dumb, now,” he said, before Jane could play dumb. “I deserve the right to bid on it first. After all, your uncle came to see me two days after he found it on the sunken ship. I saw it before he showed it to anyone else.”