Chapter 3

RILEY

As soon as I stacked my groceries in my truck, I pulled out my phone. Mom would know if someone was renting our cottage. The only problem was that she didn't know I was in America.

It only took a few seconds for Kathleen Murphy to answer the phone. "Riley? Why aren't there more digits in front of your number?"

The pounding in my head got worse. "Hi, Mom. I'm in Sunrise Bay."

"In Colorado? Why didn't you tell me you were coming back to America? You could have stayed with me for a few days in Indianapolis."

"It's complicated."

I heard her sharp intake of breath. "Calling me isn't that complicated. I thought you were in Venice getting ready for your next exhibition?"

If I was stressed before calling Mom, I was worse now. "Someone broke into my apartment and stole two of my paintings."

"That's terrible. Were you hurt?"

"No. I was at the opening of a friend's exhibition when it happened."

Mom sighed. "Thank goodness for that. If you'd had to go to the hospital, it would have taken me forever to get there."

There was no point reminding her that I'd been living in Europe for nine years. Until a month ago, nothing had happened. "I need to paint two new canvases for Lorenzo's gallery. I thought coming to Sunrise Bay would give me a better chance of finishing them. But someone told me Grandma's cottage has been rented."

"Oh, dear. I didn't know you were coming back. Eric's a friend of a friend. He was desperate for somewhere to stay, so I let him rent the cottage. But he's only using Grandma and Granddad's rooms. Our side of the cottage is still empty."

I leaned against the side of my truck. My grandparents' cottage was originally a small two-bedroom home. When my parents divorced, my grandparents added another three bedrooms, a small living room, and a kitchen onto the cottage. I lived there with Mom until I went to college.

"Why didn't you tell me you rented the cottage?"

"I tried calling you, but you were at the Art Expo in Milan," she said quickly. "I spoke to your landlord. He said he'd tell you when you got back."

I sighed. My landlord was a nice man, but he wasn't the most reliable person on the planet. "He didn't say anything."

"Is there somewhere else you can stay?"

Finding a property with enough space to set up a studio wouldn't be easy. "I'll call a realtor and ask." The traffic lights outside the general store turned red, and a line of trucks stopped. "When did Sunrise Bay become so popular?"

"About three years ago," Mom replied. "It's less busy during winter. If you need anything?—"

"I'm fine. I'll go and see the man who rented the cottage. Did he know someone else might be living in the rest of the cottage?"

"The rental agreement only gives him access to Grandma and Granddad's side of the cottage, so he shouldn't be too surprised. If it makes you any happier, Eric used to be a detective in the New York City Police Department. If you decide to stay, you couldn't ask for a better neighbor."

"We'll see," I said. "I'll call you tonight and let you know what's happened."

"You can always catch a flight to Indianapolis and stay with me."

"Thanks, Mom. I appreciate the offer, but I'll speak to Eric first."

When we finished talking, I slid the phone into my pocket and opened the driver's door. I was so tired I was tempted to fall asleep in the truck. And if speaking to Eric didn't work out, that's what I might have to do.