Tinker’s Cove was one of a number of Maine towns that held pumpkin festivals in October in hopes of extending the tourist season. All sorts of pumpkin-themed events were planned, including giant pumpkin-growing contests, bake-offs, pumpkin boat regattas and even pumpkin tosses, all accompanied by large amounts of locally brewed pumpkin beer. The pumpkin toss, in which contestants vied to catapult a pumpkin the greatest distance, was quite controversial since some residents feared damage from pumpkins landing on their property.

“I can’t say I miss the pumpkin fest,” said Elizabeth.

Lucy thought this might be a good time to pose a question she’d wanted to ask for quite some time. “Do you miss Chris Kennedy?” she asked, referring to the young man Elizabeth had been dating in Florida.

“I knew this was coming,” said Elizabeth, her cheeks dimpling.

“You have to give me points for waiting this long,” claimed Lucy, examining the flowers.

“You’ve been quite restrained,” admitted Elizabeth. “Especially since you’re so fond of Chris yourself.”

“He’s a nice fellow,” said Lucy, “but you haven’t mentioned him lately.”

“I haven’t heard from him lately,” said Elizabeth.

Lucy didn’t think this was a good sign. “Really?” She plucked a leaf that had turned brown from the bouquet. “Do you think he’s met somebody else?”

“No. Well, maybe. It’s hard to know. He joined the Secret Service.” Elizabeth paused. “He’s in some training program, and it’s all very hush-hush.”

“He’s going to be protecting the president?” asked Lucy, somewhat dismayed. “That’s very dangerous. He could get killed.”

“It’s been a lifelong dream of his,” said Elizabeth. “They do a lot more than protect the president, you know. They’re actually part of the Treasury Department, and they investigate currency violations, stuff like that.”

“I had no idea,” admitted Lucy as they crossed the rue Saint-Antoine to cut through the Hôtel de Sully courtyard to the place des Vosges. The grand mansion was a favorite with architecture buffs, but Lucy couldn’t care less. She saw it simply as a shortcut to the apartment. “But even if this program is very demanding, he must have some time off. Enough for a quick call. Or a text.”

“I don’t really know, Mom. He could have gone straight from training into some undercover mission.”

Lucy couldn’t understand her daughter’s attitude. She had thought they were a perfect couple and had been hopefully expecting an engagement announcement. “Aren’t you concerned?”

“What can I do?” asked Elizabeth as they ducked through the porch separating the courtyard from the formal garden, where little brown sparrows fluttered constantly from the ivy-covered walls, pecking at the bread crumbs people left for them. “We were just dating. It was very casual. We agreed our careers had to come first.”