Page 123 of No Headlines Please

He scoffed. "In June? I mean, sure, the fishing's great, but I'm not ready to sweat my ass off. I was thinking of heading up to the U.P., maybe rent a cabin on the lake or something."

I was intrigued. "Which Lake?"

"I dunno. There's only a million to choose from." His eyes brightened. "There's always the biggie."

I smiled. "Superior?"

He shot me with a finger gun. "Exactly!"

My pulse quickened with the first real excitement I'd felt in days. "I hear there's some great beaches."

"And great fishing."

Silently, I recalled Janet inviting herself to wherever I was going. At the time, I'd thought she was utterly insane. I hardly knew her.

I'd known Walt for barely a month. And yet, a crazy part of me wanted to pull a Janet of my own and invite myself along to wherever Walt was going.

But was it truly crazy?

I'd wanted a cabin.

Plus a beach.

I wasn't a huge fan of fishing, but I did love seafood. And I was a decent cook. I could fry up a perch with the best of them.

It sounded like a win-win to me.

By the time Walt fired up his truck and drove out of the parking garage, our plans were mostly settled.

Was I stalling?

Definitely.

Eventually, I would need to make a permanent home someplace. But everywhere I loved, including Mackinac Island, felt just a little tainted. Plus, what I really needed was time to decompress and finish my book.

When summer ended, I could figure everything out – maybe get a fresh start someplace totally new. Maybe, with enough time, I'd make new friends of my own.

The thought was just a little unsettling – but not half as unsettling as what I discovered when I finally climbed into my car.

The driver's seat was in a totally different position – so far back that I could barely reach the pedals.

And that wasn't all. When I drove to the parking booth and gave the attendant my ticket, he told me I was already paid up, which made no sense, because I hadn't paid anything.

But the way he talked, I was paid up through the end of summer.

Immediately, I thought of the guy I knew as Maddox. Had he done this? He must've, because he was the only one who'd listened to me whine about my car.

But how would he even know where to find it? After all, I hadn't told him the name of the garage.

And even if I had told him, why on Earth would he move it from one spot to another? And how would he do this at all? It's not like I'd given him a key.

Of course, cars were stolen all the time – key or no key.

But my car hadn't been stolen. It had been only moved.

Maybe.

Regardless, why would he pay for my parking?