help wonder at the reasons behind the invitation. Did he just want extra help with the twins? Or was it possible he was interested in her as a woman and a potential date? She grimaced. It would do no good to ask questions she didn’t have the answers for. “Just take it one day at a time,” she whispered.
Clouds hung low and gray, but the sun peeped out behind them so she hoped the rain would hold off long enough to enjoy the day with the Charles Fitzgerald family.
After several glances up and down the street, she crossed at the intersection, then followed the short road past the park. Splashing through a puddle left over from the night rain, she finally found herself in front of the café. The white structure with the large porch was welcoming. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Waiting for her.
But who? And why?
The man she’d seen trying to get in the building? Demi scoffed at herself. He was probably someone who wanted to go to the bookstore and thought he could take a shortcut by going in the back door.
Surely that was all it was.
But what about the note?
Still feeling a hovering sense of foreboding, Demi shivered as she stepped inside and took in the atmosphere. One of comfort and refuge with tables and chairs and couches. The display of pictures tacked to the walls was mind-boggling. Everywhere one looked, a picture smiled back.
Several patrons sat alone, working on laptops. Tempting smells made her empty stomach rumble and she headed straight for the glass-front case display. An assortment of cakes and pastries called to her. She wanted one of each, but she’d only been working for one week and her funds were still tight.
“Can I help you?”
Demi jumped and turned to see a pretty woman in her late twenties. Her brown eyes sparkled friendliness. Victoria, the owner of the Sugar Plum Café.
After checking the prices on the menu posted on the wall, Demi chose the cheapest option. “I’d love a cup of coffee, black, please.”
“Sure thing.” In a few minutes, Victoria returned and handed her the cup. “So how are things going?”
“Pretty well.”
“Charles hired you to be the children’s nanny, didn’t he?”
“I guess it’s all over town by now.”
“Indeed. I’m just glad you’re not buying into all that nonsense about Charles killing Olivia.”
“No. I’m not buying into it.”
From what Demi understood, Olivia had come to Fitzgerald Bay from Ireland three months before her murder, a stranger in town, but one who quickly made friends with Victoria and her daughter, Paige, when she’d stayed at the inn.
Curiosity lifted Victoria’s brow. “So, you work for my future brother-in-law, but I don’t really know anything about you. Do you have family around here?”
Victoria was engaged to Owen Fitzgerald, Charles’s younger brother and a detective with the police force.
“I…” What could she say? I don’t know? I don’t remember? Demi forced a smile as she handed over three precious dollars. “No. I’m just looking for a new start. Fitzgerald Bay seemed like the kind of place where I could find that.”
“You’re right about that. Why don’t you have a seat over there by the fire? It may be May, but it’s still chilly here first thing in the morning so I keep the fire going.”
Demi nodded. “Thanks. I’ll do that.” She started toward the comfy-looking chair by the flickering flames.
Once seated, she grabbed the abandoned newspaper on the table before her and opened it. Of course the front page story was still about Olivia Henry’s unsolved murder. The first murder in forty years in this town. But there was nothing about the incident at Charles’s house last night. She shivered and set the paper back on the table.
The fire crackled and the warmth felt lovely. Soon, she’d warmed up enough to shrug out of the light jacket one of the nurses had given her before she’d been discharged from the hospital three weeks ago.
Everything she now owned in the world had been given to her by another person. The familiar fear filled her, coming from a place she couldn’t define. She just knew it was very real. A mental picture of the note in her coffee grounds added to that feeling. Someone had been in her home. Warning her to stay away from Charles.
She couldn’t fathom it. But who? Who?
And should she report it?
But what would she say? What could the police do about it? She continued to toy with the idea. Maybe she would tell Charles about it and see what advice he had to offer. Then again, if she told Charles, that would just add to his guilt about hiring her. What if he fired her because he thought it would keep her safe?
She shuddered. Jobs in Fitzgerald Bay were few and far between. She couldn’t afford to lose the nanny position. No, she’d just keep quiet about the note and hope Olivia’s murderer was found soon.
Demi briefly wondered if she should pray about everything. Did she even know how?
Dear God, please give me my memories back. I need to know who I am. I need to know why I’m so afraid and constantly feeling like I need to watch my back… Please….
Closing her eyes, she did her best to bring forth memories from before she woke in the hospital.
And couldn’t do it. Not even one. Just the feeling of fear whenever she tried to remember.
And the headache.
And now the note in her coffee can. The headache worsened.
Quickly, she tossed her thoughts in another direction.
Fitzgerald Bay. A small close-knit community that was friendly to outsiders. At least that’s what the website advertised when she’d been narrowing down her choices.
And now she had a place to live and a good job. She was doing all right for someone who’d had nothing and no one three weeks ago.
She glanced at the clock on the wall behind the counter. Eight forty-five. She still had a few minutes before she needed to walk to the park. Demi leaned her head against the cushioned back of the chair and stared out the window while she sipped her coffee. Her mind spun, wondering, desperate to remember who she was, where she was from, if she had relatives that missed her. She swallowed hard against the tears that sprang to the surface.
“Hey.”
Demi jumped and did her best to hide her whirling emotions from Victoria who stood before her holding a plate of sandwiches and some delicious-looking pastries.
“Oh. Sorry, I was…thinking.”
Victoria set the plate on the table beside Demi and said, “Help yourself.”
“What? Oh, no, that’s okay. I have money.” She flushed and wondered if she looked like a
