Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I gave her a look that said she was crazy. “She signs it ‘Ms. Seaside.’”
Shrugging, Harlee said, “Could be a way to throw people off.”
With a thoughtful expression, I nodded. “Could be. But I hired someone to keep an eye on any woman who entered the lighthouse alone. They saw someone go in, then come back out within minutes after dropping something off. I’m pretty sure it’s her.”
“Brax,” Harlee said, laughing, “that could be anyone. It’s a tourist spot.”
I decided to throw her off. “They followed her and saw her slip a piece of paper into a small crack in the wall near the steps that led up to the lights.” I had no fucking clue where Harlee put the article for whoever picked it up. I was purely guessing.
I had to hand it to her, her face showed nothing. Probably because I’d totally made it all up and that wasn’t what Harlee did at all.
“Okay, that could be something,” she said. “But why are you telling me this? Why was it so important for you to talk to me?”
“You’re on the inside, Harlee.”
She sighed and crossed her arms. “I’ve said it a million times, Brax: I have no idea who it is.”
“Right, but you can help me find her.”
“You want me to help you?”
“Find her,” I said with a nod.
She stood there for a minute staring at me. I could see the wheels turning in her head, and I knew the moment something occurred to her.
I knew Harlee Tilson better than she knew herself. I had been banking on her coming up with an idea to throw me off, and I was almost a hundred percent positive she just had. She would agree to help me, if only to keep me from finding out she was actually Ms. Seaside.
Christ, can it really be this easy?
Turning, she paced a couple of times before facing me again. “I have a few ideas about who it could be.”
I raised a brow. “Okay.”
She lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back. “But this isn’t the time or place to be doing this. I’ll text you tomorrow morning, and we can sit down together and come up with a game plan.”
Hook. Line. And sinker. Oh, Harlee, this is going to be fun.
Smiling, I replied, “Sounds good.”
Harlee cleared her throat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to host and a special announcement coming up.”
Turning on her heels, she walked to the door and nearly ran out of the room after opening it.
I counted to twenty and then followed her.
Harlee quickly blended into the crowd, plastering on that Princess of Seaside smile of hers that made everyone putty in her hands. Even me.
I went back to the bar and asked for a shot.
The bartender, a pretty blonde, slid me the drink. I turned to find Harlee watching me. I lifted the shot, winked, and then downed it.
Harlee
Tossing and turning from my right side to my left, I squeezed my eyes shut. Then I rolled onto my back and let out a soft scream.
I sat up, threw the covers off, and swung my legs over the side of my bed. One quick look at the clock on my phone told me it was five in the morning. With a groan, I stood and stumbled to the bathroom. After a quick splash of water on my face, I stared at myself in the mirror.
“I look like shit.” I closed my eyes and tried to take in a few deep breaths. The weight of guilt had been growing heavier and heavier as the weeks turned into months, and then into almost two years of writing as Ms. Seaside. At first it was only meant to be something fun that would draw people back into the paper. I was fresh out of college and eager to please my father. When I pitched the idea to him, he was thrilled. And when it became a hit, he insisted I keep doing it. I had tried to step away several times, only to have him talk me into continuing for a few more months. Those months quickly turned into years. The fact that I kept telling myself I wasn’t really hurting anyone was fine—until it wasn’t fine. The last year, the guilt had been weighing heavy, and I hated that I was so damn good at lying on the spot to cover up my connection to Ms. Seaside. And now Brax was hell bent on finding out who Ms. Seaside was. What a shit show.
The last thing I thought Brax was going to tell me last night was that he’d found out Ms. Seaside left her articles inside the lighthouse. His information about where she put them was completely wrong, but it was close enough to realize I needed to change my routine. And I needed to throw him off my trail until I could slowly fade Ms. Seaside away. At least, that was the plan—I just hadn’t told my father yet.