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“I come down here quite a lot,” Garrett volunteered. “I scuba, you know. And the fishing is really great, too. You’ve probably seen on the itinerary for tomorrow that Will Price is taking us all out for a picnic lunch on his cat after our panels.”
I stared. “Hiswhat?”
“His catamaran.” Garrett looked at me pityingly. “It’s a type of boat.”
I tried to hide my disappointment that it wasn’t a real cat, though obviously I’d been uncertain how we were going to have lunch on one. Still, you never knew. Florida was weird. “Oh.”
“From what I hear, Will’s is a real beauty, a sixty footer, brand-new. Probably set him back a couple million. But don’t worry.” Garrett, apparently mistaking our stunned silence—two million dollars? For a boat?—for fear of deep water, went on, “We won’t head out too far. We’ll probably stick close to the mangroves, so if you’d prefer to do some snorkeling or something, that’d be fine. I could help if you want to learn to scuba. I’m certified for open water.”
“Gee,” I said. “That’s so sweet. I think I’ll stay at the hotel and try to write.” Or finish Will’s terrible book.
“I’m going!” Saul was guileless enough that he didn’t realize Garrett’s invitation hadn’t been extended to him. “I’d love to scuba!”
To his credit, Garrett looked surprised but didn’t withdraw his invitation just because Saul was of the male persuasion.
“That’d be great,” he said. “I’d love to teach you, Saul. You, too, Mrs. Coleman.”
But Frannie was having none of it. “Saul, you arenotgoing scuba diving off some boat tomorrow! Do you even watch the news? Don’t you see all the people who fall overboard and get caught in riptides and drown or get eaten by sharks every year in Florida?”
“Actually, we’ve yet to lose a single citizen to sharks,” Sheriff Hartwell said mildly from the driver’s seat. He’d put on the brake. “We have nurse sharks around here, but they never attack anyone unless provoked. They’re more scared of you than you should be of them. Anyway, we’re here. Will Price’s house.”
Chapter Seven
LITTLE BRIDGE BOOK FESTIVAL ITINERARY FOR:JO WRIGHT
Friday, January 3, 6:00 p.m.–9:00 p.m.
- Welcome Cocktail Meet-and-Greet and Dinner -
The board of the Little Bridge Book Festival welcomes you to Little Bridge in the home of one of our most prestigious donors.
What?
“Wait,” I said. “Whereare we?”
“Will Price’s house.” Garrett gathered up his tote bag and began to scramble from his seat, eager as the teacher’s pet on the first day of school. “You didn’t know that’s where we were going for dinner tonight?”
“No.” I tried to tamp down the panic I felt rising. “I thought we were going to a donor’s house.”
“We are. You didn’t know the largest donor to the Little Bridge Book Festival is Will Price?”
“But—but...” I was confused. “I read that Will lives on an island.”
Garrett smiled at me condescendingly. “Thisisan island, Jo.”
“NotLittle BridgeIsland. A different island.” All I could see through the bus windows was a high stucco wall, presumably surrounding a house, but I was certain the bus hadn’t boarded a ferry. “This looks like the exact same island we were just on.”
“We crossed a bridge,” Garrett informed me, as patiently as if he were speaking to a very small child. “Will’s island is only accessible via boat or a bridge with a private gate. Did you not notice us going across the long bridge with the private security?”
“Um.” I threw a panicky glance at Bernadette, who was staring, goggle-eyed, out the window, exactly as I was doing. She obviously had no idea what was going on, either. “No.”
“Saul!” Frannie had realized that her husband had fallen asleep. She began to shake him. “Saul. Wake up! We’re here.”
“Wha—? What? Oh.” Saul roused himself. “Well, what do you expect? You made me get up atfivethis morning to get to the airport—”
“Sure. It’s all my fault.” Frannie rolled her eyes at us. “It’s always my fault. Come on, lover boy, it’s showtime.”
Saul rose and followed his wife from the bus. “I wasn’t really asleep,” he assured me and Bernadette as he passed our row. “I was only resting my eyes.”
