THE RISING WIND blew off the ocean onto Templeton Cove’s promenade and Leah Dixon pulled her jacket closer around her body. Even though it was only September, the weather was already turning typically British. If she hadn’t stopped for a friendly chat with a few of the locals, she would have been home from her shift at the hospital an hour ago.
She looked to the beach and shivered as the first drop of rain spattered her glasses.
No one needed to get caught in one of Templeton’s rainstorms. The Cove and its coastal location meant it was prone to flooding, and when Mother Nature decided to scream her wrath there was little chance of escape for anyone.
Ducking her head, Leah glanced back and forth across the deserted beach as she hurried toward her small cottage just off the main street.
She suddenly drew to an abrupt halt.
Squinting, she walked to the railing. Was that a child out there on her own? It couldn’t be. “Oh, my God.”
Leah sprinted across the beach as the heavens opened, sending down an icy-cold deluge. The little girl, who couldn’t have been any older than six or seven, was throwing rocks into the incoming tide, relaxed and seemingly happy, as though it were a midsummer evening. Her track pants, denim jacket and open sandals would do little to stop her from getting soaked in five minutes flat.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Leah slowed as she came closer, not wanting to frighten her. “What are you doing out here on your own?”
The little girl turned, her dark, curly hair loose about her shoulders, her blue eyes sad. “Hello.”
Was that all this little one had to say to her? Leah swallowed and forced a smile as she surreptitiously looked about them, in search of an adult to whom this gorgeous creature belonged. “Hi, sweetie. Where’s your mum?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you lost?”
“No. I live here.”
“Here?” Leah frowned, fighting the urge to take the little girl’s hand and warm it between her own. “In the Cove?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you don’t know where your mum is?”
“No, she left me and Daddy a long time ago.”
Deeper sadness seeped into the girl’s eyes and Leah’s self-control buckled. She offered her hand. “I see. Well, why don’t you come with me and I’ll help you find your daddy. Or is someone else looking after you?”
“Daddy’s working.” The little girl slipped her hand far too easily, far too trustingly, into Leah’s. “He’s always working. My name’s Daisy James. What’s yours?”
“Leah. Leah Dixon.” She firmly clasped Daisy’s hand and started to lead her back to the promenade steps. “So are you here with someone else while Daddy’s working?”
“No. I came out on my own. I was looking for some friends to play with.”
Leah briefly closed her eyes as ugly images reared in her mind. She knew them far too well, from working in Templeton’s ER for the last eight years. Anything could’ve happened to this sweet baby. Anything. “Well, I tell you what, Daisy. Why don’t you tell me where you live and I’ll get you home before we’re both soaked through. How will that be?”
Daisy smiled for the first time, her eyes bright even as the rain plastered her curls flat to her head. “That will be good. Thank you.”
Leah smiled back, itching to give Daisy a hug. “You’re welcome. Do you know your address?”
“Sure. I live on Clover Point. Our cabin is called King’s Korner. With a K.”
“Huh.” Leah nodded, already forming a picture of the little girl’s father. “Did your daddy name the cabin? Fancies himself a king, does he?”
“No.” Daisy giggled. “I think it’s because of a writer he likes.”
“Hmm...why don’t we get you home and I can ask him myself.”
Hand in hand, she led Daisy along the promenade toward Clover Point, situated at the far end of the Cove. Although they walked as fast as possible, it took them a good twenty minutes. Leah’s blood was boiling. How long had Daisy been gone from home for her father to not notice her missing? Worse, what if she was lying for her father and he’d actually sent her out alone so he could get some precious work done?
A hundred and one parents had come up with the same sorry words as she’d stitched and bandaged up their bored kids, who’d sought out their own unsupervised fun.
Night was falling quickly and, with only the old-fashioned streetlights to aid their ascent, Leah’s temper steadily grew with each trudging step. The only people they saw on this wet and windy night were a man cycling past them on his way farther up the point and a woman running in the opposite direction.
With the increasing ferocity of both wind and rain, Leah would normally be running herself as she made her way home.
“This is our house.” Daisy pulled her hand from Leah’s and hurried up the gravel driveway toward the log cabin. “Come on.”
The cabin was about halfway up Clover Point, which meant it was one of the most affluent properties in the Cove. Which also meant Daddy Dearest wasn’t short of a penny or two. Her irritation rising, Leah hurried after Daisy, who stood waiting on the front step.
Lamps flickered through the living room window; the curtains were open, showcasing the beamed ceiling and what looked to be lots of brown leather furniture. Overflowing bookshelves were visible in the background, some sort of wooden elephant ornament stood on the windowsill, and beige drapes curled at the window’s edges.
At least Daisy’s father seemed to be home, even if his taste in decor held the colorless appeal of the Dickensian.
To the right of the front door, the kitchen/dining room stretched all the way to the back of the house. Even in the semidarkness, Leah could see straight through to some French doors at the rear, the only illumination coming