A Spot at Starlight Beach (Spotted Cottage #3)

Twenty-seven

Was it something he’d said? Liam went after her, but stopped himself when the front door flew open.

“Hank!”

Margie looked at Liam and stopped. “Hello, Liam dear. Have you seen my husband?”

He cleared his throat. “I believe he’s getting dressed.”

“I’m going to have to tell him to put his sheriff uniform on. The party crashers are already here!” She threw her hands up. “Ridiculous!”

“I’m happy to help if Hank needs a hand.”

“Oh, do you mind? I swear, every time I turned around, there was a rustling in the bushes.”

“Did you see someone?”

“No!” She dropped into a kitchen chair. “But I know they’re there. It’s like chasing chipmunks.”

Hank walked in dressed in a navy blue suit. “We’ve got chipmunk problems?”

“Party crashers,” Liam said. “I can scare them off. I just need to check on Mackenzie first. She seemed a bit frazzled.”

“She did.” Margie dropped her voice low. “I’m afraid that might not improve until the night is done.”

“It has to,” Liam said. “It’s her big night.”

He walked down the hallway and knocked on the only door that was closed. “Mackenzie? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine! Yes!”

He frowned, opening his mouth, but she spoke again.

“Is everything all right with you?”

“Erm, yeah. No problems here. Margie thinks there might be some people trying to sneak in. I’m going to go out and scare them off – unless you need anything?”

A clanking of the doorknob and Mackenzie appeared, light pouring in from behind her. “People are sneaking in?”

His breath caught in his chest. Soft waves of hair touched her bare shoulders. Her lips were red and full, her eyes sparkling, darting.

It was rude to stare, even at beauty. He looked away. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing the Chief Deputy Sheriff can’t handle.”

“And you, apparently.”

Liam laughed and looked up, his eyes meeting hers. “I’ll see what I can do. Is there anything else you need before I go?”

Mackenzie opened her mouth. For the briefest of moments, he thought she was going to lean in and kiss him.

For the briefest of moments, his heart soared.

“No.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know how to thank you. For everything.”

One kiss and he’d call it even. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy to help.”

She smiled, a pained sort of parting of her lips, the lift not reaching her eyes.

If there was ever a time to be bold…

He cleared his throat and leaned forward. “The thing is, I don’t know anyone at this ball.”

“You know my granny.”

He laughed a staccato laugh, his heart banging against the walls of his chest. “Right, Granny. But I was thinking, as much as I’d love to parade your granny around the entire night –”

Mackenzie laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

He went on. “I’d also love to spend some time with you. One dance, at least?”

“Hm.” She raised a finger to her chin. “That’s easy enough.”

“Great.” He grinned and turned, stopping to add, “Try not to worry. It’s going to be wonderful.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I do.” He paused. “Because you’ve done it, and I would trust you with my life.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Liam.”

Enough. If he kept going, he’d spill all his secrets, and he’d promised himself he would save it for a better time. “I’ll see you later.”

Back in the kitchen, Margie peered through the window and Hank finished the knot in his tie.

“I just saw someone go in the barn,” Margie whispered. “Can you imagine the nerve of these people!”

“I can.” Hank placed a hand on her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. “Ready, Liam?”

His mind was firmly elsewhere. “Uh – yes.”

“Here are the guest lists,” Margie said, handing them each a tablet. “If you see anyone sneaking around and they’re not on the list, they’re out!” She clapped her hands together.

Hank turned to Liam, eyebrows raised. “She means we take them on the boat and throw them overboard.”

She tsk ed. “I did not say that.”

Liam hid his smile.

“Let’s go, kid.” Hank walked to the front door and opened it.

Liam followed. “I thought suits weren’t allowed at black-tie events?”

Hank shrugged. “I’m wearing what I’ve got and I’ve got what I’m wearing.”

If only Liam could be so bold. Maybe he would’ve kissed Mackenzie right there, at the house. What was the point of waiting? Was it really for her benefit? Or to satisfy his own fear?

They walked outside, into the sun, and spotted the first party crasher wandering inside the barn.

She was a middle-aged lady in a sequined, knee-length purple dress with a feather protruding a foot above her gray hair.

“Can I help you?” Hank asked.

“I’m here for the party. Ball. The party-ball.” She flashed a smile, pink lipstick on her teeth.

Hank crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you sure about that? I have a list here, and if your name’s not on it, I get to take you down to the county jail for trespassing.”

A scowl twisted her smile.

The woman slammed her hands to her sides. “Fine. I’ll go willingly. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll make sure you find your way.” He nodded to Liam. “Let me know who else you find lurking around.”

“Sure.”

Liam branched out, walking the perimeter of the property. He talked to the band, asking if they’d seen anyone.

“I swear I heard a boat come up to the shore.”

Liam shut his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He walked down to the cove, stepping carefully to avoid getting sand on his shiny shoes.

Sure enough, a couple dressed in their finest sat on the wicker chairs he’d helped Margie set up, green beer bottles in their hands.

Time to channel his inner Hank. “Can I help you?”

The man glanced up at him. “We’re good, thanks.”

It was probably his own fault for sounding more like an eager shopkeeper and less like the authoritative town sheriff, but still. Annoying.

“I’ll need to check your names against our guest list,” Liam said, pulling out the tablet. “The party doesn’t start for –”

“I said we’re good,” the man snapped before turning to his date and forcing a laugh.

Liam narrowed his eyes. There was something familiar about him. Something about his tone…

“You’re that whiny boat bro, aren’t you?” Liam said. “I remember you. Crying about not getting your way at the dock.”

He stood. “Yeah, well, that video really blew it out of proportion.”

“And I’ll blow you out of proportion if you don’t get out of here.”

He didn’t even know what that meant, but it sounded like something Hank would say, and it felt right.

The guy glared. A drop of sweat streamed from his temple and dropped off his chin. The woman sat back, tapping on her phone.

Liam stepped forward. “Call whatever boat dropped you off and have them pick you up. Now.”

Boat Bro flinched, reaching for his phone. “Fine.” He made the call. “Didn’t want to be here anyway.”

Within seconds, a rubber dinghy hummed toward them.

“It was worth a shot,” the driver said as he pulled the boat onto the shore.

The couple climbed in. Liam waved. “Have a nice evening. Look out for sharks.”

The woman’s mouth dropped open. “Are there really sharks?”

“No.” The bro bumped into her, forcing her to move from her seat. “Probably not.”

Liam stood on the shore, grinning. “Au revoir!”

Spurred by his success, Liam walked the property for the next hour with Hank. They didn’t find anyone else and soon moved to stand at the entrance of the red carpet.

“I know there are some celebrities coming,” Hank said, staring down at the tablet. “But I couldn’t recognize them if you paid me a hundred bucks a pop, so maybe you can help with that?”

Liam wouldn’t notice them either, but for a different reason. There was only one woman on his mind…

“Sure,” he said.

“According to Margie, they’re starred on the list.”

Liam searched the names on his phone, finding pictures of the VIPs.

“I know that one,” Hank said, pointing at a picture of Bailey Jo. “Her songs are catchy.”

A laugh burst out of Liam. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a Bailey Jo fan.”

“I’m a complex man, Liam.” He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded a hello to a woman with a camera. “Morgan! Nice to see you.”

She stepped toward them. “Hey!”

“She’s doing the pictures tonight,” Hank said. “Best photographer on the island.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Where’s Luke?” Hank asked.

“He’s doing a video for tonight, setting up a shot of the trolleys coming in.”

Liam would have to find Luke. Footage from the ball might add something to the documentary.

He waved a hello to Morgan, and she offered a handshake.

“Look alive,” Hank said. “We’ve got our first takers.”

A red trolley pulled up and stopped at the bottom of the hill. A steady stream of people spilled out of the front and back doors, a never-ending line of laughter, voices, and yelling.

Liam got to work immediately, confirming names. Two women swooped in to help. Hank said they were Margie’s daughters.

They survived the first wave, then caught their breath as Morgan snapped pictures of the partygoers.

“Are these prints for sale?” Hank yelled. “I need a new headshot.”

“No,” Morgan barked. “Get back to work.”

Another trolley, another twenty minutes of chaos. The guests were, at least, in good spirits. All smiles and easy laughs, and not even the VIPs were offended when Hank asked their names.

The party was underway, music carrying on the wind, the smell of fried onions and roasted chicken wafting over.

“You can go,” Hank said to Liam. “Enjoy yourself. I’ve got one of my deputies coming to help cover soon. Shouldn’t be many more arrivals.”

A trolley pulled in at that moment with a ding. “I’ll stay for this one.”

It stopped and people poured out, this trolley somehow was even more full than the last.

Liam was busy checking off names when a face caught his eye.

He looked up, squinting. It couldn’t be. He waved a group through, not checking any names, instead searching, staring.

It was him. Cameron Walters. His stomach turned to stone.

“No. No. You’re not coming in here.” Liam said, walking toward him and waving a hand.

Cameron’s eyes brightened, a smirk on his face. “Liam, please. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Liam stepped closer, his face inches away. “I don’t know what your game is here,” he said, his low voice dragging over stones, “but whatever it is, you’re not doing it.”

He smiled and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Check the list, old boy.”

What choice did he have? He clenched his jaw and searched for Cameron’s name.

He spotted it and looked up.

Cameron clapped him on the back and massaged his shoulder. “Thanks so much. Enjoy your night as an usher.”

Liam pushed his hand off. “I need to go.”

“Go on. Have a good time,” Hank said, not looking up from his tablet.

He had to talk to Mackenzie. Liam spun, slipping through the trees and onto the path to the house.