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Hank spread his arms wide. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? Better late than never.”
“You’re incorrigible. I should warn all the women in Owl Creek about you,” Beulah scolded.
“You know I only have eyes for you,” Hank said in a teasing tone.
“If I was only twenty years younger,” Beulah quipped, batting her eyelashes.
Hank wagged his finger at her. “Now who’s being incorrigible?”
Iris appeared at their table and leaned in to give Hank a hug. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll bring another tea-and-saucer set over?”
“Thanks, Iris,” Hank responded. He was still getting used to calling her by her first name after a lifetime of calling her Mrs. Lawson. Gabriel’s mother was one of his favorite Owl Creek residents. She was a devoted mother with a strong entrepreneurial spirit.
“I don’t want to intrude,” he said, his gaze swinging toward Sage, who appeared slightly uncomfortable. Did he make her nervous? Or was she feeling awkward due to her disappearing act?
“Don’t be silly!” Beulah patted the seat next to her. “Sit down, Hank, and join us. I take it the two of you already know each other.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked back and forth between them. Hank let out a sigh. If Beulah was looking for any dirt about his relationship with Sage, she was bound to be sorely disappointed.
Sage nodded. “Hank and I met on the ferry over to Owl Creek. I’m staying at Trudy’s inn while I’m here in town, so it was a pretty funny coincidence to run into each other there.”
Hank wanted to laugh out loud at the look of disappointment stamped on Beulah’s face. He would bet his last dollar she’d been imagining a deeper connection between him and Sage.
Why did women in this town always want to pair him up with someone? Perhaps he needed to walk around town with a sign announcing he was happily single and not looking for romantic entanglements. Instead of devoting himself to a woman, Hank had decided to give fatherhood 100 percent of his time and attention. He knew he’d never regret that particular decision.
Hank sank down into a seat and thanked Iris as she placed a teacup in front of him. If anyone had told him a few years ago that he would become a tea fanatic, he would have called them all kinds of crazy. But ever since Iris opened up the doors of Tea Time, his love of tea had risen dramatically. There wasn’t a single thing he didn’t like about teatime. The various flavors of tea. The dainty little cakes and sandwiches. Gabriel and Connor enjoyed giving him a hard time about it, but he didn’t mind the ribbing.
Hank raised the cup to his mouth and let out a sound of appreciation. “Nothing hits the spot like lavender tea.”
“It’s delicious,” Sage murmured. “The flavor is a bit unusual, but I’m enjoying it.”
“It’s fun to try new things, isn’t it?” Beulah asked. “It’s all part of your grand Alaskan adventure.”
Sage grinned at Beulah and it made him feel a little bit off-kilter. Much as he hated to admit it, Sage Duncan drew him in like a moth to a flame. Her gentle beauty and the slight air of mystery hovering around her was extremely appealing. He didn’t even want to look in her direction too much, for fear he might be staring. Hank dragged his gaze back to Beulah, knowing he was heading into dangerous territory every time he was in Sage’s presence.
Beulah sent him a pointed look. “So, what did I miss, Hank? Over at the factory.”
For a moment, Hank hesitated. He didn’t know Sage well enough to discuss the issue in front of her, but after today’s press conference the subject was out there for public consumption. It would soon be splashed all over the internet and the covers of newspapers.
He locked gazes with Beulah. Even though he knew she was a tough cookie, she looked a little frayed around the edges. The toll of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the kidnapping was clearly getting to her. “Willa and Nate let the media know about the letter they received. They’re determined to offer a hefty monetary reward for any leads on Lily’s whereabouts.”
Beulah made a tutting sound. “If money had been the objective, wouldn’t there have been a ransom demand all those years ago?”
“Honestly, I think they’re hoping an accomplice or an informant might have some information and be motivated by the reward. It’s a long shot, but the letter gave them hope.”
“How do they know the letter is genuine?” Sage asked. “Are you able to disclose what the letter said?”
Hank looked over at her, marveling at her wide brown eyes flecked with gold. Her question about the authenticity of the letter was a good one, but once again, Hank found himself struggling to maintain an air of professionalism. As town sheriff, he knew certain
things about the Lily North case that he couldn’t reveal and it wouldn’t be right to share that information with Sage. His own father had been sheriff at the time of the kidnapping. It had been Tug Crawford’s dream to solve the case, although his premature death made it an impossibility.
Before Hank could respond, Beulah jumped in.
“It was an apology of sorts, I suppose. According to the letter, Lily is alive and this individual raised her as her own child. The person who left the letter put some breadcrumbs in it,” Beulah explained. “There was one major detail that was never reported after Lily was taken.” The older woman’s hand shook and she rested the teacup on the table. “When Lily was stolen, the kidnapper took her baby blanket along with her. It was an heirloom piece and very distinctive because it had an owl motif. My daughter-in-law Willa made it herself. It was referenced in the letter.”
Hank frowned at Beulah. She shouldn’t have disclosed those facts to Sage. There were so few people who had been privy to the details about the baby blanket. For all these years the circle had been incredibly small, and the media had never caught wind of it. Now that Beulah had let the cat out of the bag there was no telling who might pounce on the information.
“Beulah, I don’t think it’s a good idea to share specific details of the case.” He hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but he could tell by Beulah’s and Sage’s reactions that he’d sounded severe. Sage appeared to be mortified while a storm was brewing in Beulah’s eyes.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry,” Sage said, her tone apologetic. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked down at her teacup. Hank wanted to kick himself. She looked so humbled, as if she had been put in her place. He had only meant to warn Beulah against revealing so much to a virtual stranger.
