That Night on Thistle Lane by Carla Neggers Page A

back out to her car, at least in a better mood than when she’d arrived. Brandon had to have been the reason for her melancholy. Phoebe tensed, wishing she could pick up the phone and give her brother-in-law a piece of her mind. She might not always speak up for herself—she wasn’t by nature a bold person—but she would defend her sisters.
    Only Maggie had told Phoebe, Ava, Ruby and their mother to stay out of the problems between her and Brandon, and she was totally right to do so. They’d never really discussed the details of what had driven Maggie back to Knights Bridge without her husband.
    Phoebe sat on a wicker chair and breathed in the warm summer air, scented with roses. Why hadn’t she wanted Maggie to tell her what she might know—any suspicions she might have—about her dance partner?
    Maybe, Phoebe thought, it wasn’t just that she was worried that, unmasked, she’d be a disappointment in real life. Maybe she was worried he would be, too.
    She liked the fantasy of last night, she realized.
    She didn’t want it to end.
    *
    Maggie was close to hyperventilating as she arrived at Carriage Hill, all but screeching to a stop on the side of the narrow back road.
    What was she going to do? That was Phoebe last night. With Noah Kendrick.
    “My sister,” she said aloud.
    She had to calm down. It was one night. That was all there was to it. There was no budding relationship between her sister and Noah Kendrick.
    Maggie pushed open her van door with a groan. There’d been sparks between them, though.
    A lot of sparks.
    She jumped out and headed for the kitchen ell, a newer addition to the pretty antique house. She peered through the screen door but didn’t see anyone and let herself in. Her breathing more or less back under control, she went through the mudroom out to the terrace.
    Noah Kendrick sat alone at the round table. He was as still as a statue, dressed head-to-toe in black.
    “Where’s Olivia?” Maggie asked before he could say a word.
    “Upstairs packing, I believe.” He turned to her with an enigmatic smile. “Hello, Maggie.”
    “Hello. Sorry. I’m in a whirlwind.”
    “You enjoyed your night out in Boston?”
    “I did, yes.” She didn’t dare ask him if he’d enjoyed his. He was smart, rich, experienced. He’d see right through her. “Olivia’s packed for San Diego? She and Dylan are going back with you? She hasn’t bailed on you, has she?”
    “They’re flying to San Diego together. I’m staying here.” Noah’s expression didn’t change. “I’m dog sitting.”
    Maggie gulped in air. Dog sitting? Was he serious? She really was going to pass out if her family and friends kept throwing curveballs at her. Did Noah know about Phoebe? Was that why he was staying? Had to be, Maggie thought. Why else would a billionaire dog sit in little Knights Bridge, especially with his best friend in San Diego?
    She gave herself a mental shake. Maybe Noah was staying because of the mystery man Phoebe had overheard. Of course Maggie had read the note. Phoebe had typed up her transcript and printed it, probably so no one could recognize her handwriting. She was thorough like that. Maggie would have thought of such a cover-up only after the fact.
    “You’re staying here alone?” she asked Noah.
    “I’ll have Buster for company.”
    Buster was a great dog but he didn’t qualify as company for a billionaire. But what did she know about billionaires? “Do you think Olivia will love it in San Diego?”
    Noah seemed surprised by her question, as if it would never occur to him to ask. “Dylan’s place on Coronado is very nice. It’s a great location. You can see the Pacific from almost every window.”
    “Sounds lovely. Brandon and I went to California right after we got married. He’s always loved to travel. Well, I can’t stay long. I promised the boys I’d ride bikes with them. We live in the village.” Why couldn’t she calm down? Noah was already looking suspicious, as if he could