Another Woman's Baby. Joanna Wayne

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СКАЧАТЬ but his feet shifted restlessly. “Look, if I’m out of line just tell me, but I overheard you tell your friend you were here by yourself. I am, too. Maybe we could have dinner together one night. You seem to know the area, I have no clue where to find the best food.”

      “I’m very busy.” Her tone was sharper than she’d intended, but even if he wasn’t dangerous, the man was definitely overstepping his bounds.

      “Oops. I offended you. Believe me, I was not trying to pick you up. I’ve never been good at that anyway. You can see why.” He extended a hand. “Let me start over. My name’s Bart Cromwell.”

      She took his hand but didn’t offer her name.

      “I’m staying just up the beach, so we’ll probably run into each other from time to time. If you change your mind about dinner, let me know. Otherwise, I promise not to bother you.”

      “I hope you have an enjoyable stay.”

      “You, too. I’ll see you around.” He started to walk away, then stopped. “Take care, and if you’re staying in a big old house all by yourself as your friend said, you need to lock your doors tight. This seems like a safe little area, but you just never know.”

      Her thoughts exactly. She picked up her pace as she started back toward the house. A nice-looking man, on the beach alone in December, stopping to ask an extremely pregnant woman out to dinner. Something was seriously wrong with this picture. And he needn’t worry. She would lock and bolt every door tonight.

      MEGAN STRETCHED OUT on a slip-covered lounge chair in an alcove that looked out over the Gulf. It was her favorite spot in the whole house, a small, cozy room with a large window that provided a marvelous view of the gulf. She had an avalanche of pillows behind her, a knitted throw pulled over her feet and a cup of hot herb tea on the table beside her. All the essentials for relaxing—only she wasn’t.

      She’d walked every room of the rambling house, even climbed to the cupola above the third floor and checked the doors to the widow’s walk. Every door and window was locked tight, but still the uneasiness persisted.

      Was it hormones, paranoia brought on by the recent tragedy, or reasonable caution that wouldn’t let her put the stranger on the beach out of her mind? A year ago she’d probably have been intrigued if the rugged, sexy man had tried to pick her up on the beach.

      But a year ago it would have made a lot more sense. A year ago she’d been thirty, not pregnant and a perfect size eight. But maybe the guy was gay and didn’t care what she looked like. Or maybe he was hungry and only wanted to know where the best places were to eat. It could even be that he was lonely.

      Or maybe not.

      She walked to the kitchen and retrieved the phone book from the second drawer of the cabinet. It wouldn’t hurt to call the local police department and check to see if there had been any problems in the area in recent weeks.

      She found the number and punched it in, using the wall phone in the kitchen. The woman who took the call put her on hold and then transferred her to someone else.

      “Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?”

      The Alabama drawl was unmistakable. Just the familiarity of it eased her fears a little. “I’m staying in a private home on the Gulf in the Orange Beach area.”

      “Glad to have you. Are you having some kind of problem?”

      “No, but I’m here alone, and I was just wondering how safe it is in this area.”

      “Exactly where are you?”

      “Are you familiar with the Lancaster house?”

      “Pelican’s Roost? Sure am. Hey, is this Megan?”

      “Yes. Do I know you?”

      “I reckon you do. Class of ’88. Hey, hey, hey.”

      “Roger Collier?”

      “The one and only.”

      Talk about a blast from the past. They had gone to high school together, but it had been two years since she’d seen or heard from Roger. He’d looked her up when he’d been job hunting in New Orleans, but she hadn’t been able to help him. Still, it was good to hear his voice now.

      She’d had a terrific crush on him for most of her junior year, but he’d been going steady with Jackie at the time. She’d dated him for a while after he and Jackie broke up, but had broken up with him after a few dates. The only time she’d gone out with him after that had been to the senior prom, when neither of them were dating anyone steady. “How have you been?”

      “Terrific. Still single and hanging easy. Will you be in town long?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      “Everybody’s been wondering what you were going to do with that place since your grandmother passed away. If you fixed it up a bit, you could probably sell it for a mint of money. Beach property’s like gold these days.”

      “That’s what I hear.”

      “Anyway, good to have you back. Now, what’s this about trouble?”

      “I ran into a man on the beach when I was out walking just after sunset and he stopped to talk to me. To make a long story short, he made me a little nervous.”

      “Did he say something out of the way?”

      “Not really.”

      “Was he drunk?”

      “No.”

      “Just a ragged old beach bum, huh?”

      “Not that either.” Now she felt foolish. “It’s nothing I can put my finger on. He just made me a little nervous and I thought I’d see if there had been any trouble in the area.”

      “The usual stuff. Kids throwing bottles on the beach, getting loud and rowdy, but we haven’t even had a complaint of that since the summer crowd left.”

      “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

      “Yeah. You know how it is on the beach. The setting breaks down barriers. People who wouldn’t speak to you in town stop and chat. I can send someone out to take a look around if you like, but if he was just out jogging, I doubt they’d find him.”

      “No. I’m sure it’s nothing,” she repeated.

      “Probably just a guy looking for a good time. Orange Beach is the safest place in the country. But I’ll be here all night. If you change your mind about having an officer come by and check out the house, just let me know.”

      “I appreciate that.”

      They talked a few more minutes about people they both knew from high school. It always surprised her that so many of her classmates still lived in Orange Beach. It had never occurred to her to settle here, but then this had never really been her home. No place had. She’d only lived here her last two years of high school while her mother lived in Spain with her third husband.

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