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what I thought,” Nick said. “Thanks.”

      He started to head below deck and as he passed by, the other man smiled. “I hope you enjoy your visit. Summer Island is a pretty special place.”

      “Yeah,” Nick replied. “So I’ve heard.”

      There was something familiar about the man, but by the time Nick had gone to the washroom, then ordered a coffee, he’d forgotten all about him.

      AFTER THE FERRY DOCKED, Nick drove his Rover from the parking level, down the ramp and onto the main road. He stopped at a big sign. To the right lay the north end of the island where his bed-and-breakfast was. To the left was the island’s only town, Cedarbrae.

      Deciding he was hungry and needed a meal, Nick turned left.

      Summer Island was a place of rocky shorelines and thick rain forests. Even in town the trees were massive. Mostly cedars, Nick guessed, though he knew from his research that some of these were also Douglas fir and oak. Occasionally he spotted the twisted shape and smooth red bark of the distinctive arbutus tree.

      He felt a long way from New York City as he drove along the deserted road. He wondered how a person could live full-time in a place like this. So small and rural and isolated. He had nothing against the great outdoors. But he’d only been here a short while and already it felt as if his thoughts were echoing around in his head.

      He needed people.

      A sign pointed left and he turned again. Here was the town and it was small. Most of the amenities were on the main street, which ran parallel to the ocean.

      In less than a minute he’d seen the whole place. He circled back to Derby’s Diner, a white clapboard structure, with green-and-white awnings shading the windows. The almost-full parking lot seemed testament to a decent lunchtime menu, so Nick nosed his Rover into one of the few empty spaces and went inside.

      Only two tables and one booth were available. He was headed for the smaller table, when he noticed a redhead across the room. He did a doubletake, at first disbelieving, then amazed, then intrigued.

      Molly Springfield was on Summer Island?

      And then he realized he shouldn’t be surprised. It seemed that everywhere he went in his journey to learn about Simone DeRosier, Molly Springfield had been there first. He still didn’t know who she was, exactly, or what she wanted. But clearly it was time he made a more concentrated effort to find out.

      He checked out her luncheon companion, a tall, thin blond woman, older, probably in her late thirties like him. He experienced a second shock as he realized he was looking at Jennifer March.

      From the photograph he’d seen, he’d known Jennifer was pretty. But in person, she had a wholesome, natural beauty that was totally disarming. He could picture her in a shampoo commercial with a garland on her head and a meadow of wildflowers at her feet.

      Wow, where had that image come from? Teenaged memories of flipping through his mother’s magazines hoping to spot a lingerie advertisement?

      The fact that Jennifer was seated with Molly Springfield was an interesting development.

      The first time he’d run into Molly he’d tried to question her. But as soon as she heard that he wanted to write Simone DeRosier’s biography, she’d gone running. She hadn’t let him get near her since.

      At one point he’d speculated that she might be writing a book, too. But if so, it would be her first. She had no publishing history.

      It couldn’t be coincidence that she was on Summer Island, though. And chatting up one of the original forget-me-not friends. They sure did look cozy, like they’d been pals for a while.

      Both were dressed in yoga pants and colorful, formfitting tank tops. Their hair was tied back from pink-tinged cheeks. All evidence pointed to the likelihood that they’d just come from an exercise class.

      They were so engaged in their conversation, they didn’t even notice him. Quickly Nick changed course, bypassing the table and choosing instead the booth directly behind Molly. She couldn’t see him here unless she turned completely around in her seat. Even then, she’d only make out the back of his head.

      He picked up a menu and pretended to read it while he focused on their conversation. At first the words were just a blur. He closed his eyes. Concentrated.

      They were talking about Jennifer’s mother…

      “HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN SHE died?” Molly asked.

      “Eighteen.” The older Jennifer got, the more she realized how lucky she’d been to have such a happy, protected childhood. Good parents, close friends, a storybook life in the storybook setting of Summer Island.

      All that had ended after her mother died though.

      “It’s scary how fast your life can change.”

      “I know,” Molly commiserated. She’d lost her mother a few years ago, too, which was why Jennifer felt comfortable confiding in her.

      “I’m not sure how I would have coped without my friends. They were all amazing. Harrison helped me deal with the lawyers and the financial mess left behind because Mom didn’t have a will.”

      “He’s a rock, Harrison,” Molly agreed.

      “Gabe took charge of the funeral arrangements and wrote the obituary for the Summer Chronicle, while Emerson arranged for his family landscaping business to handle all the gardening and yard work at the B and B for an entire month.”

      “They really rallied around you.”

      “Dad and I were such a mess. We needed the help. Aidan stepped in and canceled reservations and refunded deposits for the next few weeks so we had a chance to catch our breath. He even set us up on a computer system.”

      “What about Simone?”

      Just the name brought a smile to Jennifer’s face. “She was the one who made me laugh and helped me believe that the future wasn’t as bleak as it seemed right then.”

      “She was something, huh? So famous and yet she still made time for her old friends. I wish I could have met her.”

      Jennifer said nothing to that. She wasn’t so sure Molly and Simone would have gotten along. Simone never had trouble making friends with men, but women were something else. Not many could put up with being in the other woman’s shadow all the time. But Jennifer hadn’t minded. The fun of having Simone as a friend had been worth it.

      But she couldn’t see Molly willingly taking the backseat to anyone…even a world-famous musician. Molly was flamboyant and confident in a way that Jennifer envied.

      “What about you, Molly? You must still really miss your mom.” She’d moved here to make a fresh start after her mother’s death. Unlike Jennifer, Molly didn’t have any other family.

      “Oh, I’m coping.”

      Typical of Molly to keep her answer vague. Molly didn’t like to talk about the past. She was all about the future, or so she said.

      “Well I’m really glad you ended up on Summer Island. I haven’t had a good heart-to-heart talk like this in ages.”

      “We need to go out more often. Have I ever told you that you work too hard?”

      “Only a hundred times.” Jennifer laughed. “But we can’t all be free spirits like you.”

      “Is that really how you see me?”

      “Well, sure. You moved across the country to an island where you didn’t know anyone and started your own yoga studio. You’re artistic and spontaneous, full of energy and brave…” Jennifer sighed. Not one of those adjectives could be applied to her. “In fact, sometimes you remind me a lot of Simone.”

      “You still miss her, don’t you?”

      “My aunt says

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