too far from our roots. We’re already dangerously close to doing that.”
Matt had frowned at that. “I’d be coming to keep law and order, not to block change.”
“Sometimes it’s the same thing,” Don told him.
“Haven’t the changes been good for your business? Aren’t you busier now than ever at the diner?”
“True enough, but I don’t know everyone who walks through the door the way I used to,” Don had lamented. “Especially not in mid-February when all the snowbirds are tying up traffic and taking up tables where my regulars like to sit. One of these days we’re going to have a fistfight over that. I can see it coming. Habersham’s likely to be in the thick of it, too. The mayor’s got his favorite table in the corner where he can be seen by everyone. Three sweet little old ladies with blue hair and stretch pants were sitting there when he came in the other morning and he stood there glowering down at them. I thought he was going to have a stroke, especially when one of them responded to his intimidation tactics by beaming up at him and inviting him to join them.”
Matt chuckled. “And you want me around to personally keep the peace in your restaurant?”
“I want you around because Rosa and the boys and I miss you,” Don had said. “We consider you part of the family and you haven’t been home nearly enough.”
The fact that he hadn’t mentioned Emma spoke volumes in Matt’s opinion. Or maybe Don had just been wise enough to know that any reference to Emma would have been taking unfair advantage of old feelings.
Matt hadn’t been able to resist the opening, though. “You didn’t mention Emma. How’s she doing these days? Is she still in Washington?”
“Yes, more’s the pity,” Don said with a shake of his head. “I don’t understand what she sees in the place, much less in that man she’s working for. He’s got sneaky eyes, if you ask me. And you’ll never convince me that Marcel D’Avignon is his real name. More likely, Marty Birdbrain, straight out of rural West Virginia. Maybe I should get you to check him out.”
Matt would have liked nothing better than to investigate any man in Emma’s life, even if theirs was only a working relationship, but something told him Don was only half-serious. “Say the word and I will,” he’d told him.
“And have her come down here and tear a strip out of both our hides? I don’t think so,” Don said with obvious regret. “And if she didn’t, Rosa surely would. No, Emma’s got a good head on her shoulders. I just have to have faith that she can look out for herself and not let the man take advantage of her.”
“Does she get home much?”
“Not nearly often enough.” Don had given him a knowing look. “But maybe you could change that.”
His words were tantamount to a blessing and gave Matt the hope he’d never had before where Emma was concerned. The slimmest possibility that Don could be right had been an added incentive for him to take the job once it was offered.
Maybe if the mayor had sent someone else, maybe if Matt hadn’t handled way too many domestic disturbance calls on his last shift, he might have been able to turn the offer down flat. As it was, he’d jumped at the chance to explore going back to Winter Cove in a respectable position. The salary and benefits had hardly mattered. Don had pegged him exactly right. Matt had wanted a chance to prove something to the people of Winter Cove. And he’d clung to the likelihood that sooner or later, he’d catch a glimpse of Emma and see if he’d finally outgrown his infatuation.
His first few months on the job had gone smoothly enough. Even without a visit from Emma, he had no regrets about his decision to come home. Don had been right about the number of strangers around, but there were still a lot of familiar faces, and Matt had made it his business to get to know the strangers, as well. Little went on around town that he didn’t observe or hear about.
Like the scene he’d witnessed in Flamingo Diner that morning. It wasn’t the first time Don had lost patience with Andy lately. Nor was it the first time he’d snapped at Rosa, but each troubling incident took Matt by surprise. Years ago Don would never have taken that tone with any of them. In fact, over the years, whenever Matt thought of the Killians, all he remembered was the laughter and Don Killian’s gentle, persistent way of teaching all of them the right way to do things. The little displays of temper, mild in comparison to what Matt had lived through in his own home, were still worrisome because they were so totally out of character.
But as much as Matt loved the family, as much as he’d always been made to feel as if he were part of it, he wasn’t sure if it was his place to step in and ask Don if anything was wrong. Maybe he didn’t want to admit that his mentor might have flaws. Besides, people had their bad days. Even he could be short-tempered, snarling at anyone who crossed his path. But until the last few weeks, he’d never witnessed Don saying an unkind word to anyone, especially a member of his own family.
Matt wasn’t the only one concerned, either. Since that morning, half a dozen people had stopped him on the street and asked if he knew what was on Don’s mind. Having everyone know about every little mood swing was both the blessing and the curse of a place like Winter Cove. There was something comforting about knowing how many people cared, but it could be disconcerting, too. Matt was still getting used to all the teasing questions about his own social life, which was nonexistent at the moment since he’d recently broken off a brief flirtation with a local investment adviser because she’d been more serious than he was.
Fleetingly, he considered calling Emma and filling her in on this new tension at the diner, but he knew in his gut that his motives weren’t entirely pure. Why stir her up over something that she wasn’t here to fix? As genuine as his concern was, it was a pretty pathetic excuse to hear the sound of her voice and see if it still had the power to make his knees weak.
He uttered a rueful chuckle. Here it was after midnight, and unable to sleep, he was cruising along the lakefront dreaming up ways to make contact with a woman he hadn’t seen in a decade. Even more absurd was the fact that he was still carrying a torch for a woman he’d never even kissed, a woman who’d been little more than a girl the last time he’d seen her.
He sighed. He really did need to get a social life. The next time Jessie Jameson offered to fix him up with her granddaughter, he just might take her up on it. Everyone knew that Jessie Three, as the younger woman was known around town, was always up for a good time. Maybe that was what Matt needed, a little uncomplicated sex and a few laughs.
In the meantime, he could definitely use a distraction. Catching a burglar in the act would be good. Even a traffic violation. But the streets of Winter Cove were quiet at this hour. Few people were stirring.
He was almost relieved when he finally spotted something out of the ordinary, a glint of something metallic at the edge of the lake, picked out by his headlights as he rounded a curve. It could be nothing more than a piece of debris that had washed ashore, but it also wouldn’t be the first time that some crazy kid had taken the curve at excessive speed and wound up in the water.
Feeling a sudden sense of urgency he screeched to a stop, grabbed his flashlight and ran across the grassy slope toward the edge of the water. As he got closer, there was no mistaking the fact that what had caught his eye was the chrome of a bumper. The car itself was almost fully submerged. Unless the accident had happened minutes earlier, unless the driver had managed to break a window and swim free, there was little chance anyone had survived.
Matt radioed for help, then, still clutching the waterproof flashlight, he waded
