Chapter 6

RILEY

The next morning, I stepped off the veranda and smiled. I couldn't remember the last time I slept so soundly. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my shoulders and let the clean, fresh air fill my lungs.

In all my travels, Sunrise Bay was the only place where I felt truly at home. Here, I could hike in the mountains, swim in the clear blue water, or walk around the edge of Willow Lake, skipping stones across the gently lapping water.

With my backpack sitting snugly against my shoulders, I strode away from my grandparents' cottage and into the woods.

Walking through the trees felt like stepping back in time. For as long as I could remember, I'd trodden this same path, ducking under stray branches and jumping over fallen logs. Even the stubbornest worries melted away when I was there.

And those worries had dragged me out of bed at five o'clock that morning. I'd spent an hour going through everything in my studio. My grandma used to tell me my art supplies would be there for whenever I returned. Even though I was five years too late, I'd never been more grateful for her thoughtfulness. My easels, a pile of old canvases, my brushes, even my tubes of paint were still sitting where I left them.

I stopped in the middle of the path, frowning at a commotion in the trees. Before I could decide if it was a bear, Sherlock bolted from between two trees. He ran straight toward me, only slowing when it looked as though we were about to collide.

"Hey, boy. Where's your dad?"

Sherlock sat in front of me, tilting his head to the side.

"Does he know you're here?" It didn't seem likely that Eric would let Sherlock roam the forest on his own. There never used to be many bear attacks, but attracting more tourists to town sometimes brought wild animals closer. I patted Sherlock's thick black coat and peered through the trees. Apart from the German Shepherd's heavy breathing, I couldn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary.

Sherlock was wearing a collar but, with no harness or leash, he might not follow me. "Come on, boy. Let's go back to your house."

Sherlock woofed, then looked over his shoulder. Eric walked toward us with a slight limp. I wondered if he'd hurt his leg trying to catch his dog.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked. "I would have kept Sherlock closer if I'd known you were here. We usually have this trail to ourselves at this time of the morning."

"I'm fine. I thought Sherlock might've been a bear or a wild animal."

Eric patted his dog's head. "He's big enough to be a bear. Are you heading down to the lake?"

I nodded. "It's the best part of the day. Everything's so peaceful on the water."

"If you're planning on swimming, be careful. A couple of kids nearly drowned last week."

"I'm not going into the water. I thought I'd take a few photos of the lake and go for a long walk. It wasn't comfortable sitting on the plane for so long."

"Why did you come all the way from Italy to Sunrise Bay?"

"I'm a full-time painter," I told him. "I need to finish two canvases for an exhibition."

"You couldn't do that in Venice?"

I pushed aside the memory of what my studio looked like after the burglary. "I didn't feel safe."

Eric snapped Sherlock's leash onto his collar. "And staying here makes you feel safe?"

"It used to," I said softly. My words hung in the air, met with silence.

"I'd better head back to the cottage." Eric took a whistle out of his pocket. "Take this. If you need help and you can't get a cell phone signal, blow it. It's designed for dogs, so you won't hear anything. But as long as you're no more than 400 yards away, Sherlock will let me know you need us."

I held the small wooden whistle in my hand, feeling its smooth surface. "Did you make it?"

"My dad did. You can give it back to me when you get back to your cottage."

"Thanks for being worried, but I'll be okay. I spent most of my childhood in the forest. I won't get lost." I held out the whistle, but Eric didn't take it.

"There are a lot of people in town for tonight's concert. You can't be too careful when you're on your own."

Before I could disagree, Eric was walking along the trail with Sherlock trotting beside him. I watched them for a few minutes before turning toward the lake. I had no idea why Eric was living in Sunrise Bay. For someone who'd been a detective, life on the edge of Willow Lake wouldn't be all that interesting.

I slipped the whistle into my pocket and kept moving. As soon as I finished my walk, I'd clean my studio and start planning my first canvas. And maybe, if Eric forgot about being grumpy, he might tell me why he was here, too.