The change in her business focus had been Mike’s idea. He’d floated it after the Comstock incident, but became more insistent after her father died. He was worried about her. Or maybe he just didn’t want to come running to her rescue all the time. No, she knew how much Mike cared. He’d do the same for Mary. Zoey was his extra sister—a twin and a spare, as his father liked to say. She was more family than friend. It was good to know Mike had her back.

She headed toward the pastel house, knowing she’d be facing an inquisition from Vickie. And probably news of some blind date the book club wanted to set up for her. She shook her head. She might need Mike to come to her rescue again.

CHAPTER THREE

VICKIE KNEW ZOEY might stop by after going to Jack Nelson’s place, and she opened the front door before her goddaughter had even reached the top of the porch steps. She was curious to hear how the call went. Jack could be blunt at times, but he and his wife were good neighbors. The kind of neighbors who stopped by to bring Vickie’s dock in from the water every fall and helped put it back every May. They’d been doing that for years, in exchange for nothing more than a couple cold beers and snacks on the back deck.

Zoey gave Vickie a smile—a good sign. Vickie stepped aside, swinging the door wide.

“I thought I might see you today. Coffee’s on, and there’s a bagel on the kitchen island.”

“No tea and crumpets? I’m disappointed.” Zoey patted Vickie’s shoulder affectionately as she passed.

“The last time I tried tea and crumpets with you, you told me you’d rather have beer and pretzels.” Vickie closed the door and followed Zoey to the sunlit kitchen. “You were twelve. And I had guests.”

Zoey grabbed a mug of coffee from the marble-topped island and turned to face Vickie, one eyebrow arched high.

“Think about what you just said, Vicks.” Vicky did her best not to grimace, knowing Zoey was just trying to get a rise out of her by using a nickname Vicky hated. “You invited a twelve-year-old to an adult ladies’ luncheon where actual crumpets were being served.” Zoey chuckled. “I still remember the looks on their faces when I came clumping in wearing my Doc Martens. I thought Marjorie Adams was going to pass out.”

Vickie took a sip of her coffee. “Marjorie always had a big stick up her ass, God rest her soul.”

“She never understood your efforts to make me into a...” Zoey stuck her nose in the air and her pinkie finger out dramatically as she held her cup high. Her voice slid into a prissy half-British accent. “...proper young lady of Rendezvous Falls.”