own at their food in silence and the waitress turned to the coffeepot.
They sat at the empty table and R.J. picked up the menu that was stuck between the napkin holder and the ketchup bottle. “I think I’ll have the special,” he said in a normal tone of voice, as though they weren’t sitting in a silent restaurant.
Sara had to work to focus on the menu. The special was two fried eggs, two pieces of bacon, two link sausages, a biscuit, three pancakes, orange juice, and coffee. Before she thought about where she was, she said, “I can see you’re sticking to your diet.”
Two tables away, a couple of men gave little guffaws of laughter. She looked at R.J. in surprise and he smiled at her, pleased.
“And what are you going to have?” he asked. “Your usual bowl of sticks and twigs?”
There was more laughter, a bit louder this time.
“Sticks and twigs describes your last girlfriend’s figure,” she said with her teeth clenched, as though she were angry with him. “I’m going to have scrambled eggs and plain toast, that is if you don’t mind that Phyllis doesn’t cook them.”
“Leave her out of this!” R.J. said, but loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear. He leaned toward her. “If it weren’t for her, we’d—”
“What?” Sara said, leaning forward so their noses were almost touching. “Be sleeping on outdoor porches? What I want to know is why you didn’t take her up on her offer last night.”
“And leave you to wander around outside by yourself? All of us were looking everywhere for you. And all because you’d had a jealous fit over a very nice woman who—”
“Nice! I know exactly what part of her you think is ‘nice.’ She—” Sara broke off because she realized that the people around them had started talking again. The men were chuckling and she could hear the name “Phyllis” now and then.
“Good,” R.J. whispered. “Very good. I think that acting training of yours paid off.”
“Who was acting?” she said, looking down at the menu. When she looked back at him, he was staring at her with wide eyes. “Don’t kid yourself. I’m not in the least jealous of your women.” When he started to say something, Sara nodded toward the approaching waitress.
“So what will you two be having this morning?” she asked, her face serious.
“Phyllis Vancurren on a platter,” Sara said sweetly.
The waitress didn’t miss a beat. “And you?” she asked R.J.
“I’ll have the same,” he said, his eyes on Sara.
“Okay, that’s two ham sandwiches with a side of gravy,” the waitress said.
Everyone in the restaurant, including Sara and R.J., burst into spontaneous laughter.
When they left the restaurant, the fishermen waved at Sara and R.J. as though they were one of them, as though the men understood what was going on between the two. When Sara paid the check—she was, after all, still R.J.’s assistant—she’d asked the waitress where the Nezbits lived. “We want to apologize about the dog,” Sara said, her eyes downcast.
When she looked up, the waitress was looking at Sara as though she didn’t know if she was lying or crazy. It came to Sara that if the town was in on what was being done to them, it was because they were being threatened. By whom? With what? she wondered.
The waitress gave her directions. “It’s about three miles,” she said, but she didn’t offer transportation.
Outside, R.J. was waiting for her. “Three miles, right?”
“Yes,” she said. “Did you ask?”
“I asked directions and that took some doing, as all of the men wanted to run away from me. Someone has warned them not to give us a ride off the island. Can you walk in those shoes?”
“Not well. Toothbrush and toothpaste, of course, and a decent pair of shoes that I can walk in. They head my list of wants.”
R.J. looked down the main street of town. There wasn’t a store open yet. When he saw Sara was taking off her shoes to go barefoot, he smiled. “Good idea. I think I’ll do the same.” He untied his leather brogues—no sandals for him—stuffed his socks inside, tied the shoes together, then took her sandals from her and tied his laces around them. “Together at last,” he said, holding up the four shoes.
“You’re incorrigible,” Sara said, but she was smiling.
“No, actually, I’m the world’s greatest lover.”
“You wish. Stop that and tell me what you found out.”