the middle of such a soap opera?
Off in the distance, she heard the front doorbell ring. Victor had arrived. What are you going to
do now, Mary?
CHAPTER THREE
Cherry Bay's annual Fourth of July celebration was held at the old lighthouse, which was on a
promontory of land that had been established as a local park some years ago. Volunteer firemen
were in charge of the fireworks display that was set off from the point. The nearby beach was
crowded with both natives and tourists alike, and food and drink vendors dotted the area with
'striped canvas canopies. Music from a local band blared from the loudspeakers near the
whitewashed stone lighthouse, and the smell of hot dogs and the pastry called fried elephant ears
filled the air.
Tim appeared not to notice the taut atmosphere that filled the interior of Victor's Volvo on the trip
to the lighthouse, but Mary did. Back at the house, she had met Victor at the door; he was
dressed in crisp linen slacks and a white shirt. She'd looked up into his cold eyes and tight
features and felt her stomach sink to her shoes.
When Tim. had come to the. porch to interrupt Chance and Mary, he had left the phone off the
hook in the front hall. How much of what had gone on outside had Victor overheard? Could he
have heard anything at all? Could his tight expression just possibly be related to seeing her walk
out of the hospital earlier that day with a strange man? What did she dare hope for?
With the strong instinct that she was making a mistake, Mary had gone to say goodbye to her
grandfather Wallis, who was comfortably ensconced in the library with an old friend of his,
drinking brandy and playing a game of chess.
"Good night, Grampa," she whispered as she kissed him.
A tall, thin man in his eighties with a leonine head of thick, white, wavy hair, Wallis Newman
was a gruff man who had a reputation for being terrifying with local politicians and dignitaries.
Mary never understood that. Wallis reached up to pat her cheek, his fierce gaze softening into
tenderness.
"Have a good time, kiddo. I won't wait up."
I want to stay home with you, Grampa, she thought.
She glanced toward the hallway and sighed. Victor and Tim were waiting. She threw her arms
around her grandfather's neck, hugged him swiftly, and left.
Now Victor pulled the car into a parking space, and Mary scrambled out thankfully. The parking-
lot lamps washed the scene in harsh white illumination and sharp shadows. In the distance, she
could see the warmer glow from flickering beach fires and the tiny pinpoints of colored lights
strung in the trees and bushes that clustered around the lighthouse.
Tim bounced out happily. Victor locked the car and straightened, his movements slow and
deliberate. Mary felt the skin around her eyes tighten as he glanced at her briefly. Then Tim
loped around the car, planted a smacking kiss on her forehead so hard he almost knocked her
over, and said, "I'm going to get in line for some food. Meet you on the beach?"
"All right," she sighed, and she forlornly watched him dash away. There goes my chaperon and
bodyguard.
Victor curled a hand around her upper arm, and she looked up with a start, then tried to smile.
The effort was not returned. "I want to talk to you," he said tersely.
As if on cue, the first round of fireworks exploded overhead with a rolling boom like thunder,
and Victor's marble-carved features were washed in red and blue.
This was worse than a mistake, she thought, as she glanced again at the crowd on the beach. This
was more like disastrous stupidity. There was no way they were going to run into Chance, and
Victor was obviously upset, and she didn't have the energy to explain anything to him. Even if
she'd known how to explain it. '
Then a small seed of resentment bloomed. She shouldn't have to explain anything. They may
have dated for a few years, but they hadn't even come to any kind of formal agreement. She
never asked Victor what he did when