The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel by Susan Donovan Read Free Book Online

she’s good to go.”
    “A cigar boat it ain’t,” Deon said, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
    “What’s the new stuff?” Lowell asked. “So far it just sounds like the same ole, same ole.”
    “Right.” Clancy hooked his thumbs into his utility belt. “This year, the carnival is staying an extra day. Instead of being up and running through Sunday, they’ve extended their operating license until Monday, midnight.” Several men expressed their dissatisfaction with that plan, but Clancy continued. “Also this year, we have added security considerations. As Chip just mentioned, construction has started on the Oceanaire Foundation’s education center and research marina on Haven Cove. The site is clearly blocked off from the bed and breakfast traffic and the public beach, and they have their own round-the-clock private security team, but we are their backup. I have promised Ash our full cooperation.”
    Chip chimed in. “Whoever is on patrol out there should check in with security at least twice a shift.”
    “Gotcha,” Doug said.
    “Also, there are a couple BOLOs to be aware of. I’ve sent them to you on your tablets. As we know, festival week on Bayberry Island isn’t exactly a den of felons, but we need to be kept up to date.”
    Will sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a normal felon instead of one of these fruit loops.”
    “Hey, did you see that half-woman-half-man mermaid?” Doug’s eyes got huge. “He shaved half his damn chest! That’s just not right!”
    “It’s called a mer
man
,” Chip corrected him.
    Clancy refreshed his laptop to be sure he had the latest bulletins. “As I was saying, there’s an APB out for a double-homicide in P-town last night, an AMBER Alert out of Springfield with plates and vehicle description, and a BOLO on a preschooler from Maine, probably a custody-related abduction.”
    “But that one’s not an AMBER Alert,” Chip added, helpful as always. “Unlike the Springfield case, the girl’s not believed to be in danger.”
    Deon shook his head. “Man, I don’t care what thesituation is—you just don’t go around snatching kids. What the hell is wrong with people?”
    *   *   *
    Evelyn spooned with Christina on the motel bed, listening to the gentle rhythm of the little girl’s breathing. The poor kid was zonked. Once they’d checked in, Evelyn had followed through on her promise of ice cream, but Christina’s eyelids grew heavy after just a few licks of her vanilla soft-serve cone with rainbow sprinkles. So she carried her comatose niece back to the motel, removed her pirate patch and shoes, and tucked her in.
    Evelyn let her eyes wander around the room absently, noting how a tiny sliver of evening light cut through the cheap plastic draperies. Though the windows were shut and the walls of The Sand Dollar were made of concrete block, she could still hear the rhythmic rush of the ocean and the occasional laughter of vacationers. The motel was just a couple blocks from Fountain Square, Ground Zero for partying. Eighteen years earlier, her mother had marched down to the manager’s office to complain that the late-night laughter and music kept the family awake.
    Evelyn smiled sadly to herself, thinking of that long-ago vacation. She was fourteen that summer. Amanda was twelve. And the McGuinness clan was whole, happy, and hopeful—a state of affairs she assumed would last forever. And why not? What kid with a happy life thinks it’s temporary? And, really, Evelyn’s world was far more than just happy. It was structured, safe, and part of a larger context of church, community, and roots two hundred years deep. The summer her family vacationed on Bayberry Island, everything was just as it should be, and in her teenaged heart she was sure nothing bad could ever penetrate the contentment and order.
    Her mother died the next summer, just six weeks after being diagnosed with stomach cancer. Evelyn didn’t need to be a psychiatrist to know