“Tell me, Claire,” Agent Alvarez said in a low voice. “Are you in danger?”

Oh, bless him. She shook her head. “I am not. Thank you, gentlemen, but I have to run.”

As much as she didn’t approve of Lucy’s plan – or being left out of it – Claire was now quite thankful for her quick thinking.

She smiled at them both before slipping into the darkness of the cabin.

Chapter Twenty-one

A week passed and Lucy couldn’t help but marvel that her scheme of hiding Marty in plain sight was working. True, he was getting a bit antsy, and housekeeping wouldn’t stop asking about coming in to clean. But, other than that, it was going swimmingly.

The local news had picked up the story about the possible fugitive on the island, and though people became more aware of it, no one seemed to actually think it was true. It was more of a “Isn’t that funny?” sort of thing, which Lucy was happy to encourage any chance she got.

Claire remained concerned, but from Lucy’s perspective, it seemed like the people of Orcas Island had a hard time believing that a so-called criminal could live among them.

Criminal. What a joke. Lucy was confident that Marty’s name would be cleared as soon as they got a chance to talk to the attorney Claire had found. She’d gotten his name from her old coworker – the now Attorney General – and he was the best. If anyone could save Marty, it was him.

The only problem with being the best, however, was that he was busy. They still had another week to wait before they could meet with him.

It all seemed silly to Lucy, especially if Marty’s old coworker could clear things up. Why spend thousands of dollars on an attorney when a conversation with an old friend could do the trick?

That was, at least, what she told herself when she first found David Marilyn’s dating profile. She hadn’t been looking for him,  but he’d appeared nevertheless.

It was all by chance, really. Out of boredom one night when she and Marty were watching Love It or List It at the hotel, she’d updated her location on her dating profile to the Seattle area.

It wasn’t her fault that the algorithm showed her David Marilyn, or that she recognized him, or that when she sent him a wink he messaged her back within a few hours.

They’d chatted, and he asked her out. What was she supposed to say? No?

That would be spitting in the face of fate, and of dating algorithms. Who was Lucy to do such a thing?