Chapter Twenty-six
The bell over the door jingled as the last customer of the night left The Chowder House. Audrey stretched her arms behind her back, rolling out the tension from a long shift. It had been a relatively uneventful night—just how she liked it.
Behind the counter, Isabella was wiping down the espresso machine, but her eyes flicked toward Audrey with poorly contained curiosity. “Okay, so spill. What really happened between you and Dr. Comstock?”
Audrey groaned, rolling her eyes. “We had dinner at his place. That’s it. And trust me, he is not my type.”
Jimmy was clearing the last table and suddenly perked up. “What is your type?” he asked, setting down a stack of plates with careful precision.
Audrey smirked. “Hmm. Smart, funny, sensitive—most importantly, kind. Not some jerk with a mean streak like Evan Barker.”
Jimmy’s hopeful expression faltered slightly at the mention of Evan, but before he could press further, Ethel’s sharp voice rang out from the kitchen. “Jimmy! Get that mop on the kitchen floor before you punch out!”
Jimmy sighed, giving Audrey a regretful look before slinking off toward the back, mop in hand.
Isabella grinned. “Poor guy’s got it so bad for you.”
Audrey shook her head. “He’s sweet, but no.”
Before Isabella could tease her more, the door jingled again, and Melanie, Dr. Comstock’s receptionist, strode in with stiff posture and an air of barely contained irritation.
“Pickup for Melanie,” she said curtly, not even glancing at Audrey.
Ethel handed her a neatly packed to-go bag. “Here you go, sweetheart.”
Melanie took it with a tight-lipped nod and turned on her heel without so much as a goodbye.
As the door slammed shut behind her, Isabella raised an eyebrow. “Wow. I thought she might turn to ice and shatter on her way out.”
Audrey sighed. “Yeah, she’s not exactly my biggest fan.”
“Why?”
“She’s in love with her boss,” Audrey said with a shrug. “And she thinks I’m some kind of competition.”
Isabella scoffed. “That woman is one ‘Dr. Comstock doesn’t notice me’ away from boiling a bunny.”
Audrey snorted, shaking her head.
“You wanna head out? I can finish up here,” Isabella offered.
Audrey glanced at the kitchen. “Nah, I was thinking of staying and baking some muffins for breakfast service.”
Ethel wiped her hands on her apron and turned to her with a knowing look. “Audrey, you work hard enough. I can handle the muffins. Go home, get some rest.”
Audrey hesitated, but Ethel gave her a firm nod.
“You wanna run your own place someday, cook all your favorites for the locals, but that doesn’t mean running yourself into the ground before you even get the chance.”
That, at least, was true. Audrey smiled, touched by the gesture. “Thanks, Ethel. I am kind of tired.”
“Go on, kid.”
Audrey grabbed her coat and waved goodbye before stepping out into the crisp night air.
Halibut Cove was eerily quiet this late in the evening. The streetlights cast long shadows on the cobbled sidewalks, and the smell of salt and fish drifted in from the docks.
Audrey took a deep breath, letting the cool air wash over her. She loved these quiet nighttime walks—usually. But tonight, something felt off.
Footsteps suddenly echoed behind her, quick and hurried.
Audrey tensed, glancing over her shoulder.
Jimmy.
She exhaled, her shoulders relaxing.
“Hey!” he called out, jogging up to her, slightly out of breath.
Audrey stopped, forcing a smile. “Jimmy, what are you doing?”
“I, uh …” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking nervous. “I just—I was wondering if maybe you’d want to—go out sometime? Like … a date?”
Oh, Jimmy.
She gave him a gentle smile. “That’s really sweet, but I don’t think so.”
Jimmy’s face fell, but he nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, no worries. Just thought I’d take a shot and ask.”
Before she could say anything more, he turned and hurried off in the opposite direction, shoulders hunched.
Audrey sighed. She hated turning people down, especially someone as sweet as Jimmy, but she couldn’t pretend she felt something she didn’t.
She started walking again, but the uneasiness hadn’t left.
A cold prickle ran down her spine.
She turned her head slightly, trying to be subtle.
A shadow.
At first, she thought it could still be Jimmy. Maybe he’d taken a different route, maybe he was heading home—
But then she saw another figure—tall, broad-shouldered, moving with purpose.
Her stomach twisted.
He was across the street, just far enough away to make it look casual, but he was matching her pace.
Audrey forced herself to keep walking, her pulse starting to race. Maybe she was being paranoid. Maybe it was just another person heading home.
But then she picked up her pace.
And so did he.
Her breath quickened.
She turned a corner. So did he.
The prickle of fear turned to ice in her veins.
She crossed the street. He did too.
Audrey’s heartbeat pounded in her ears.
Okay.
This is not normal.
She sped up, walking fast now, her steps quick and clipped.
The man wasn’t running, but he didn’t have to. He was closing the distance, walking with purpose, his stride longer than hers, deliberate.
A few more seconds and he’d be right on top of her.
Her breath caught.
Oh, hell no.
She bolted.
The man chased her.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she sprinted down the empty streets, feet pounding against the pavement. She cut down a narrow alley, trying to shake him, but he was right behind her.
Panic clawed at her chest. She pushed herself faster, tearing toward the docks, where the boats bobbed gently in the dark water.
She had to lose him.
Her eyes darted wildly. There—a fishing boat, tied to the dock, its deck just low enough to climb over.
She lunged, scrambling over the side, dropping down into the shadows.
Seconds later, footsteps.
Stopping inches from the boat.
Audrey held her breath, pressing herself against the deck, heart hammering.
The man was right there.
She could hear his breathing.
A long, excruciating pause.
Then, retreating footsteps.
Audrey waited until the silence felt real.
Then, cautiously, she peeked over the boat’s edge.
No one.
She ran.
Maggie looked up from her book when Audrey burst through the front door, face pale, breath coming in short gasps.
Maggie immediately set her book down. “What happened?”
Audrey swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. “Someone—someone chased me.”
Maggie’s eyes hardened. “Who?”
“I don’t know,” Audrey admitted, pacing the living room. “I was walking home, and I could feel someone following me. I thought it was just nerves, but then I saw him—a man, tall, broad—and he started chasing me. I barely lost him.”
Maggie’s jaw tightened. “Did you recognize him?”
Audrey shook her head. “No. It was dark. But I don’t think this was some random guy lurking around town. This felt personal.”
Maggie exhaled slowly, folding her arms. “Someone’s sending a message.”
Audrey nodded. “Yeah. And the only question is, Who?”
Silence hung between them for a moment.
“Bradley?” Maggie suggested.
“Maybe,” Audrey said. “Or Evan Barker. He’s been creepy since day one.”
Maggie tapped her fingers against the armrest. “Whoever it was … they wanted to scare you.”
“Well, mission accomplished,” Audrey muttered.
There was something fierce in Maggie’s eyes.
“Nobody threatens my granddaughter,” she said, voice low, dangerous.
Audrey swallowed.
If someone thought they could intimidate the Holbrooks into backing off …
They’d just made a very big mistake.