“Noah, if I didn’t know better, I’d say when it comes to being in Cane’s Inlet, you’re afraid of even your own shadow. Now, trust Aunt Cilla, I can be your best friend here.”
The implication, of course, was that she could also become his worst enemy.
* * * *
He ordered the fish and chips with mushy peas, she the Shepherd’s Pie. Traditional pub food, but elevated by taste and spice and a second—or in Cilla’s case a third—serving of drinks. They’d transferred to a corner booth in the main dining room, privacy their appetizer and dessert. While dining, she’d eased up on her interrogation, instead getting general information out of Noah. Where he was from, what he did for a living, and in a twist, she even offered up details about herself. Two marriages, two divorces, and he learned that no
