Page 31 of The Guardian

"How is that possible?"

"I have no idea. They explained it, but I wasn't really listening. After they said they couldn't help me, I sort of tuned out."

"Do you have an idea who they might be from?"

Julie turned and watched Mike cast his line again. "I think it might be Richard. I can't prove it, but it's just a feeling I get."

"Why?"

"The timing, I guess. I mean, I can't think of anyone else it could be. I haven't met anyone new besides him and . . . I don't know . . . I just think he's the one. The way he acted when I told him it was over, the way he keeps popping into my life."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just little things. I bumped into him in the grocery store, then he came into the salon for another haircut. And whenever we do see each other, it's like he's trying to find out how he can have another chance with me."

Emma looked at her. "What does Mike think?"

"I don't know. I haven't told him yet."

"Why not?"

Julie shrugged. "What's he going to do? Go after the guy? Like I said, I don't even know for sure that Richard's the one who's calling."

"Well, how many calls have there been?"

Julie closed her eyes for a moment. "On Wednesday, there were twenty messages on the machine."

Emma sat up. "Oh, my God. Have you told the police about this?"

"No," Julie said. "It wasn't until then that I even admitted what was happening. I guess I was just hoping that it was a mistake of some kind, like some sort of computer malfunction with the phone company. I was just hoping it would stop. And maybe it has. My phone hasn't rung at all the last two days."

Emma reached for Julie's hand. "People like that don't stop. You read about this kind of stuff in the papers all the time: Ex-boyfriend wanders in and settles the score. This is stalker kind of stuff. Don't you realize that?"

"Of course I do. And I've thought about it. But, again, what am I going to say to the police? I can't prove it's Richard calling and neither can the phone company. He hasn't threatened me. I haven't seen his car parked on my street or near the salon. He hasn't been anything but polite when we do run into each other, and even then, there have always been other people around. All he'd have to do is deny it." She made the points like a lawyer summing up a case. "And besides," she said, "like I told you, I don't know for sure that it's him. It could be Bob for all I know. Or someone I don't even know."

Emma watched her before squeezing her hand.

"But you're ninety-nine percent certain it was Richard."

After a moment, Julie nodded.

"And no calls last night? Or the night before? When Mike was there?"

"No. It was quiet. I guess he stopped."

Emma frowned, thinking about it.

Or wanted her to believe that he'd stopped?

She wasn't about to say that. "Strange," she said instead. "And kind of scary. It gives me the creeps just thinking about it."

"Me too."

"So what are you going to do?"

Julie shook her head. "I have no idea."

An hour later, Julie was standing at the bow when she felt Mike slip his arms around her and nuzzle her neck. She leaned into his grip, feeling strangely comforted as he moved to stand beside her.

"Hey there," she said.

"Hi. You looked lonely up here."

"No. Just enjoying the breeze. I was getting kind of hot in the sun."

"Me too. I think I got sunburned. The beer must have washed off my sunscreen."

"So did you win?"

"I don't want to brag, but let's just say he got a lot more sun than I did."

She smiled. "So what's Henry doing now?"

"Probably pouting."

She glanced behind her. Henry was leaning over the side, beer can in hand, filling it with seawater. When he saw Julie looking, he stood and brought a finger to his lips, begging for silence.

"So, are you ready for tonight?" she asked. "At the Clipper?"

"Yeah. I knew most of the songs already."

"What are you gonna wear?"

"Probably just jeans this time. I think I'm getting a little old to dress like a kid."

"And you're just realizing this now?"

"Sometimes it takes me a while."

She leaned into him. "Like with me?"

"Yeah, like with you, too."

In the distance, assorted boats had dropped anchor near the beach at Cape Lookout. On the first warm weekend of the year, it was crowded with families. Kids splashed and shrieked in the water, parents sprawled on towels. Behind the crowd, the lighthouse rose eighty feet into the air; painted white with black diamonds, it looked like a folded checkerboard stood on end.

"You've been kind of quiet today," Mike said, squeezing her.

"Just thinking."

"About something Emma said?"

"No. Just the opposite. It's something I mentioned to her."

Mike could feel the wisps of her hair as they feathered his face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Julie took a deep breath before recounting the things she'd told Emma. As he listened, Mike's expression shifted from confusion to concern, then finally to anger. When she was finished, he reached for her hand and turned her around.

"So you think it was him when I answered the phone that night?"

"I don't know."

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"There wasn't anything to tell. Not until a couple of days ago, anyway."

Mike glanced away, frowning, then looked back at Julie. "Well, if it happens again, I'm gonna put a stop to it."

Julie seemed to study him, then slowly broke into a smile. "You have that sexy look in your eyes again."

"Don't try to change the subject," he said. "This is serious. Remember what we talked about in Tizzy's?"

"Yeah," she said, "I remember." Her voice was flat. "It's just the way I deal with things when I'm upset. Try to joke my way out of things. Old habit, you know?"

After a long moment, Mike put his arms around her again. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Lunch was an informal affair-sandwiches and chips and a deli container of potato salad. Having told Mike and Emma, and with a full stomach, Julie felt a little better. She drew some comfort from the fact that both had taken what was happening as seriously as she did.

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