6
Jack started up the path to the mid-century home beach rental that John and Denise shared with Vanessa. Turquoise shutters—the color of the sea in the late afternoon—set off the white cottage. The cottage was close enough to the beach to get the fresh sea breeze, so all the windows were open.
Vanessa had asked him to come this morning, saying that she was better in the morning, especially with what they needed to discuss, so Jack had shifted his schedule. Generally, he liked to write and sketch early. If he were working with Ginger on a story, she preferred to start early as well—if she wasn’t hiking to the ridge. She was an intriguing woman with a sharp mind, even at her age. Not that he’d asked or that it was important.
Her granddaughter was even more vexing. He and Marina had a cof
