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Colette was feeling better with each minute. The man didn’t act surprised or suspicious, and he knew exactly where she needed to go. She got back in the car and watched the man close the door of the store and pin a sign on it:
DON’T YOU GO AWAY. BE RIGHT BACK.
So this is what country living is like?she thought to herself. She wondered if he even locked the door.
He placed the goods in the back of his pickup and waved her to follow. She pulled up alongside and lowered both her window and the one in the back so Max could thank the nice man for the apple. “Thank you, sir!” He waved the apple.
The man tipped his hat again and hopped into the cab of the truck.
They tore through the gravel and back onto the highway. Cobblestone Hill was less than ten minutes away. She followed the pickup down the long driveway and parked her car next to the truck. A man, maybe mid to late thirties, came out of the house. He was lanky and wore black-rimmed glasses. His hair was cut short. He could almost pass for a geek.
“Hey, Elmer!” The man waved.
“Logan,” Elmer acknowledged in return.
“Here, let me get that.” Logan took the big box from the man and looked over at Colette. “Hello?”
Colette got out of the car. “Hello. I’m Colette Petrov. I used to work for Mr. Randolph Millstone. I’m looking for Clive Dunbar. He was Mr. Millstone’s lawyer.”
“Yes, of course. Is he expecting you?” Logan asked.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Logan smiled. “I’m sure it’s fine. There isn’t a whole lot to do up here except scare the fish. Dad is on the porch pretending to tie flies.” He had a nice, easy manner about him. Much like his father from what Colette remembered.
Elmer jumped back into his truck without saying another word. He tipped his hat to Colette.
“Thank you very much!” She waved at him and turned toward Logan. “I have my son with me.” She nodded toward the back seat of the car.
Logan bent over to look inside. “Hey, dude!”
Max looked at his mother for approval before he said anything. She nodded.
“Hey. I’m Max.”
“I’m Logan. Nice to meet you.”
Colette opened the rear passenger door, unbuckled Max, and helped him out. He took her hand.
“Right this way.” Logan walked to the side of the massive house. Calling it a cabin was just short of absurd. It looked more like a lodge with vertical, gray wood siding and colossal stonework. No wonder they called it Cobblestone Hill. The entry area had a large walk-in pantry on one side and a big laundry room on the other. Another door led to the patio in the rear of the house. A private outdoor bathroom facility, including a shower and dressing room, was in an alcove. Two sliding doors opened into the kitchen area.
Logan placed the box on the island counter. “Hey, Dad! We have company.”
“What? What company?” Clive Dunbar meandered into the large kitchen and stopped short. “Colette?” He said it as if he were seeing a ghost.
“Yes, sir. It’s me.” Colette smiled weakly. “This is my son, Max.”
“This is a pleasant surprise, I must say,” Clive said. “I’ve been trying to locate you, but the Millstones said you had left no forwarding information. I was actually thinking of hiring a private detective agency.” He chuckled. “Seriously.”
“But why?” Colette asked.
“Come in. Come in. Logan, why don’t you take Max down to the lake and show him how to skim some rocks. Feed the ducks. Would you like that, Max?” He squatted to speak to the boy face-to-face.
Max looked up at his mother.
“That sounds like fun. Doesn’t it?” Colette encouraged him.
Max was nodding so fast she thought his head might bounce off. She mouthed the words, “Thank you,” to Logan. He gave her a sly thumbs-up.
