She decided to walk to the Common. Maybe she’d sketch some of the cottages just for fun. On the way there, Roo trotted over to greet Charlotte Long and impress her with his dead dog imitation. Although fewer than half the cottages were occupied, most of the residents seemed to be out for an evening stroll, and long, cool shadows fell like whispers across the grass. Life passed more slowly here in Nightingale Woods …

The gazebo caught Molly’s attention.

I’ll have a tea party! I’ll invite my friends, and we’ll wear fabulous hats and eat chocolate frosting and say, “Ma chère, have you ever seen such a bee-you-tee-ful day?”

She settled cross-legged on the beach towel she’d brought with her and began to sketch. Several couples strolled by and stopped to observe, but they were members of the last generation with manners, and they didn’t interrupt her. As she drew, she found herself thinking about all her years at summer camp. The frailest thread of an idea began to form in her mind, not about a tea party but about—

She closed her notebook. What was the use of thinking so far ahead? Birdcage had contractual rights to two more Daphne books, neither of which they’d accept until she’d made the revisions they’d demanded of Daphne Takes a Tumble.

The lights were on when she returned to the cottage. She hadn’t left them that way, but she wasn’t too worried.

Roo immediately started barking and made a dash for the bathroom door. It wasn’t latched, and the dog bumped it open a few inches with his head.

“Calm down, poochy.” Molly pushed it open the rest of the way and saw Kevin, all bare-naked beautiful, stretched out in the old-fashioned tub, legs crossed and propped on the rim, a book in his hands, and a small cigar clamped in the corner of his mouth.

“What are you doing in my bathtub?” Although the water came all the way to the top, there weren’t any soap bubbles to hide him, so she didn’t go closer.

He pulled the cigar from the corner of his mouth. No smoke curled from it, and she realized it wasn’t a cigar but a stick of candy—chocolate or root beer.

He had the gall to sound irritated. “Now, what do you think I’m doing? And would you mind knocking before you barge in?”

“Roo barged in, not me.” The dog ambled out, his job done, and headed for his water bowl. “Why aren’t you using your own tub?”

“I don’t like sharing a bathroom.”