Retribution. Ruth Langan

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      “Sidney.” Her grandmother stood framed in the doorway as Sidney lowered the kickstand of her bike and raced up the front steps of the Willows.

      “Hi, Bert.” Sidney gave her grandmother a warm hug before stepping past her. “Mmm. Something smells wonderful.”

      “Trudy is baking pies.”

      “What’s the occasion?”

      “No special reason. She just said she always feels like baking pies in the fall.”

      “I’m sure Poppie will be happy to eat them.”

      The older woman winced. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Which is why you’ll have to take a few home with you.”

      “I’ll take one. That’s all the room I can manage with my bike’s basket.”

      “If I had my way you’d take all of them.”

      They walked arm in arm along the cool tiled hallway. When they stepped into the cozy, sun-drenched kitchen, Sidney was surprised to see her sisters Hannah and Emily at the table, enjoying slices of freshly baked pie and steaming cups of tea.

      “I didn’t know you’d be here.” With a laugh Sidney danced across the floor to hug each of her sisters. “Where’s Courtney?”

      “At her shop. She said she’d be by later to enjoy some of Trudy’s pie.”

      The housekeeper looked up from the stove. Her white hair, damp from the heat of the oven, was curled like cotton balls around a face that crinkled into a smile at the sight of another of her girls. “Don’t you look fresh.” She gave Sidney an approving glance before accepting a kiss on the cheek. “Living out in the wilderness seems to agree with you.”

      “It’s not exactly the wilderness, Trudy.” Sidney accepted a slice of pie on a crystal plate and settled herself at the table beside her grandmother. “I’ve got electricity, heat, light and even the Internet. What more could a girl ask?”

      “Neighbors,” the housekeeper said in her trademark raspy voice. “Your family would feel a whole lot better if you could count on someone nearby in times of trouble.”

      Sidney glanced around the table. “It just so happens I do have a neighbor.”

      Hannah’s head came up. “The mystery man in the lighthouse?”

      Sidney seemed puzzled. “You’ve heard of him?”

      “Only that someone’s living there. Have you actually met him?”

      At Sidney’s quick nod, her two sisters looked intrigued.

      Hannah’s pie was forgotten. “What’s his name?”

      “Adam Morgan.”

      Emily took a sip of tea. “What does he look like?”

      Sidney shrugged. “Tall. Rugged. It’s hard to tell what he’d look like without that beard.”

      Hannah grinned. “He has a beard?”

      “He does. And hair that really needs a trim. It brushes his collar.”

      “Dark hair or light?” Hannah demanded.

      “Dark. Like his eyes.” Sidney’s voice lowered. “His eyes are…I don’t know. Penetrating, I guess. He has a way of looking at me that makes me uncomfortable.”

      “In what way?” Alarmed, Trudy picked up a wooden spoon and held it in a threatening gesture.

      “Not in a bad way, Trudy. He just seems intense. As though trying to read my mind while guarding his own.”

      “A mystery man.” Hannah sighed. “There’s nothing quite like an air of mystery to get a girl’s interest.”

      “I’m not interested.” Sidney looked around the table at the sly grins being exchanged between her sisters. “He’s abrupt and distant, and besides, I’ve only seen him once, and that was more than a week ago.”

      “What was more than a week ago?” At the booming voice of her grandfather, Sidney pushed away from the table.

      “Poppie.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on his cheek. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

      “I’ve missed you, too, my darling. When are you going to move back home?”

      “Sorry. I’ve left you for good. I’m having way too much fun in my own place.”

      He chose to ignore that. “I see Bert and Trudy conspired to have you join your sisters in eating as much pie as possible, in order to save me from indulging in too many calories.”

      “Guilty.” Sidney joined in the laughter.

      “Now tell me what happened more than a week ago?”

      Before Sidney could answer, Hannah said, “She met the mystery man who’s living in the lighthouse.”

      “And is he a werewolf, as some in town have claimed?”

      At Sidney’s puzzled look he threw back his head and roared. “You can’t believe all the rumors floating around about the man. That he only comes out after dark. That he’s in the Federal Witness Protection Plan, and is starting a new life. That he’s a former CIA agent hoping to write a book. So…” The Judge helped himself to a bite of Sidney’s pie before releasing the fork when he caught a threatening look from his wife. “What do you know about the man?”

      “His name is Adam Morgan. He’s a photographer with World News Network, and he’s living in the lighthouse while he assembles some photographs for the historical society’s almanac.”

      Hannah turned to their grandmother. “You’re a member of the historical society, Bert. Why didn’t you tell us?”

      The older woman shrugged. “It was all handled very discreetly. We were told only that the man in question came highly recommended by his employer, that he won a Pulitzer for one of his war photographs…”

      “He won a Pulitzer?” Sidney’s eyes went wide. “Are you sure?”

      Bert nodded. “As I said, he came highly recommended. We wouldn’t allow just anyone to live in one of our historic treasures.”

      “A prize-winning photographer.” The Judge poured himself a cup of tea. “Living practically next door to our Sidney.” He sipped and glanced around the table with that impish grin they had all come to recognize. “Now, isn’t that interesting?”

      Sidney could feel her cheeks coloring as she deposited her plate and cup in the dishwasher. “I need to get back before dark.”

      “I could drive you,” Emily offered. “I have a couple of evening appointments at the clinic.”

      “It’s too far out of your way. I can manage.”

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