CHAPTER TWO
EVIE TOOK OFF her name tag, dropped it in her purse and settled into her usual seat behind the ferry’s tall wheelhouse. From the backward-facing seat, she could watch Starlight Point slip away. On the short trip from Starlight Point to Bayside, she was just another passenger. Not an owner of the amusement park that had been in her family since before she was born.
Evie loved Starlight Point like she loved her sister’s smile, her brother’s eyes, her mother’s laugh and the memory of her father. But tonight she just wanted to enjoy the twenty-minute-ride home.
Home. The third-floor flat above Aunt Augusta’s Downtown Bakery was still new to her. But she was starting to call it home. Too large a space for one person, the flat had two rooms—a spare bedroom and bathroom—that were completely empty. Her brother’s house on the Old Road at the Point used to be a half-barren bachelor pad, but he’d traded houses with their mother. He was now living in their parents’ house with his wife. Already the rooms were filling with the contraptions that seemed to go with babies, and the baby shower coming up would add even more.
Maybe her empty apartment wasn’t so bad. It was quiet, organized...and the first place she’d ever lived alone.
Evie pulled off the band holding her hair back and ran her fingers through the long strands. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the center island of the ferry, feeling the hum of the boat’s motor. The bay was calm, the breeze light, the June evening warm. If her old blue sedan actually had any life left in it, she’d be missing this beautiful ride and making the daily drive in traffic to the Point.
After a twenty-minute trip, the ferry docked and Evie waited for the other passengers to leave. The moms and dads, friends and teenagers were in more of a hurry than she was. They headed for their cars parked in the wide downtown lot. She hoped they’d had a wonderful day at Starlight Point. Judging from their flushed cheeks and sleepy-eyed kids, it looked that way.
“Good night, Evie.”
She turned. Smiled.
“See you tomorrow, Ken,” she said to the retired navy officer who had ferried Starlight Point guests for at least a decade.
“I hope you never get your car fixed so I can keep seeing you every day,” he said. “Although I could come take a look at it for you if you like. Can’t be much different from a battleship.”
Evie laughed. “I think it’s just the battery. I’ll get it fixed on my day off.”
“Which is?”
“October something.”
Ken smiled and propped a foot on the bench seat. He shoved his captain’s hat back and gave Evie his full attention.
“Running that place over there,” he said, gesturing at Starlight Point and the lights just starting to show against the twilight sky, “is no easy job. Especially for someone as young as you are.”
If someone else had said the same thing, Evie might have bristled. But she’d known Ken for years and knew he wasn’t judging her. She threw back her shoulders and tilted her chin up.
“I’m not young. Ask my feet. They’ll tell you I’m fifty-seven.”
Ken laughed. “When I was your age, the only thing I was good at running was my mouth. Although I learned pretty quick to keep it shut.”
Evie stepped off the boat and tucked her purse under her arm. “Good night, Ken. See you on tomorrow’s run.”
“’Night.”
Evie was several feet away when Ken’s question stopped her.
“Got your new marina open for business? I wasn’t able to come to the grand opening, but I saw the pictures of it in the paper a few days ago.”
Evie’s stomach sank like change thrown in a fountain.
“Almost,” she said. “I’m just short of a few regulations and we’ll be open before summer gets too far along.”
Ken rolled his eyes. “Tell me about regulations. I was in the navy twenty-five years and hope I never see another piece of paperwork.”
It was a beautiful evening, so she took the long way around to the front of her building, which housed her sister-in-law Augusta’s bakery on the street level and condos on the second and third floors. From her third-floor window, she had a view of the bay and Starlight Point.
From a distance. Something she was just getting used to. Growing up, Evie had always wanted to be at the Point. She’d resented moving away, even a hundred miles, to attend college. Always there was a lingering fear that somehow Starlight Point would change while she was gone.
And it had. Her father’s death near the end of her junior year had changed the Point forever. The life she had imagined for herself—working alongside her dad as his accountant and financial expert—disappeared. Instead she and her siblings inherited the park overnight because their mother handed it straight to the next generation. Growing up didn’t seem like such a treat anymore.
It was a responsibility and she was taking it seriously.
On her walk, she passed the Bayside fire station where the four overhead doors were open to the warm evening air. Shiny trucks lined up. Waiting.
Sometimes Evie felt like she was waiting, too.
Right now she was waiting for a certain fire inspector to get the burr out of his boots and approve her paperwork.
Maybe he’s in there.
Evie paused on the sidewalk in front of the wide concrete apron. She knew the tiny office the former fire inspector used was just inside the front doors. She’d been there several times to meet with the former inspector, who’d initially approved her plans. All she had to do was go past the shiny red pumper truck and make a quick right.
She crossed the concrete with the stealth of a trespasser, tempted to glance around to see if anyone was looking. Not that she was committing a crime. She had business there. It was a public building. The doors were open.
When she stepped under the overhang and into the relative darkness of the station, she stopped. The interior smelled like rubber tires, engine oil and something that could only be described as fire truck. She’d spent time in the fire office at the Point when she was growing up, sitting on the engine’s bumper and talking to the firefighters. But Starlight Point was only this quiet during the dead of winter.
“Hello?” she called. A call box was mounted to the inside wall with a note instructing people to press the red button in case of emergency. Getting her marina project back on track and getting her hotel renovation plans approved seemed like an emergency to her, but she was afraid of what might happen if she pressed that button. She pictured alarms, flashing lights and men racing for trucks while they threw on helmets and coats.
That would be too much excitement after a long day working at the Point, where she was in charge of resorts and safety. There, plenty of flashing lights, screaming people on the rides and millions of details competed for her attention. The quiet of the station calmed her mind, but only one thing would
