Page 19 of Is Anyone Listening?
"We could, but let's hold off for now. I don't want us to get too distracted by the other women when Natalie is our focus." I sat back in my chair. "I also don't want to get derailed by my family’s story. Let's take a break. I need some air."
"That's fine with me. I want to shoot some video around town before we go to the pub. And, frankly, I don't think we're going to solve anything from this library. We need to get out and talk to people."
"I agree. I just hope they talk back."
Chapter Six
After shooting video around town for the next hour and a half, we walked to Kelly's Pub, which occupied a weathered building near the harbor. Inside, exposed brick walls were covered with framed photographs showing the pub through different eras. The bar itself was dark wood, and behind it, shelves of bottles glowed in the soft light. Nautical touches were everywhere, with fishing nets draped in corners, a ship's wheel mounted on one wall, and old brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling.
It was only four-thirty, which was a little late for lunch and a little early for dinner, so only a dozen people were scattered about. An older man sat at the far end of the bar nursing what looked like whiskey. Two middle-aged women occupied a corner booth, laughing over glasses of wine. A group of younger guys played darts near the back, their competitive banter punctuating the low rumble of conversation and the classic rock playing from speakers I couldn't see.
A man stood behind the bar, wiping down glasses. He was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that showed muscular arms covered in tattoos. His dark hair was longish, curling slightly at his collar, and his eyes were a deep blue. He gave us a friendly smile as we sat down at the bar.
"Hello, ladies. What can I get you?"
"How about a name?" Tessa asked with a flirty smile. "You wouldn't be Sophie's brother, would you?"
"I am. Finn Kelly. And who might you be?"
"I'm Tessa, and this is Cassidy," she replied. "We met Sophie at the inn this morning. She told us this was the best pub in town."
"She's right. You must be the New York City writers she was telling me about. Have a seat. Sophie's in the kitchen, but she'll be out soon."
We settled onto barstools, and Finn immediately placed cocktail napkins in front of us. "Can I get you drinks? Food?"
"What do you recommend?" Tessa asked.
"Shipyard Ale if you like beer, and definitely my burgers. I know everyone says that about their local burger place, but I swear these are legitimately the best on the coast." He grinned. "Made with my own special sauce. Won't tell anyone the recipe, not even my sister."
"A man with secrets," Tessa teased. "I'm sold. Burger and a Shipyard for me."
"Same," I said, thinking how good Tessa was at being fun and flirty without really even trying.
Finn grabbed two glasses and started pouring our beers with practiced efficiency. "What do you two write?"
"We're working on a book about historic inns. That's why we're staying at the Stonecross Inn," Tessa said. "We wanted to see how it works from the inside."
"That inn definitely has history," he said, setting our beers in front of us. "It's over a hundred years old. My parents actually got married in the garden there."
"That's interesting," I said. "So, you grew up here in Stonecross?"
"I did, but I was gone for about twelve years while I was in the Army."
"When did you come back?"
"It's been about two years now. I hadn't really planned on going into the family business, but that's the way it worked out."
The kitchen door swung open, and Sophie emerged, her face lighting up when she saw us. "You came! I'm so glad. And I see you met Finn."
"I'm going to put their order in," Finn said as he moved away from the bar, heading into the kitchen.
"How was the library?" Sophie asked. "Did you learn anything interesting?"
"Margaret was helpful," Tessa said. "She told us about the death of Ellen's husband."
"That was a sad story from what I've heard. He died before I was born, so I never met him, but my parents knew him as well as Ellen's son, David. He left shortly after his father died and Ellen doesn't talk about him. There's some bad blood there." She paused. "Are you going to put that story in your book?"
"We're just gathering information," I said.
