The Double Wedding Ring by Clare O' Donohue

hydrant on this side of the street.
    The car itself looked pretty new and well cared for. Maybe another rental. I looked in the driver’s side window. The inside of the car was clean. The
New York Post
was on the passenger seat, dated a few days ago. A Starbucks cup in the cup holder meant that the driver had come from somewhere at least fifteen miles away since there were no Starbucks, or any chain restaurants, in Archers Rest or in the towns that surrounded us. The backseat was empty, but I noticed something on the floor, something shiny. I could tell that it was metallic, but beyond that I didn’t know what it was. I tried the door, but it was locked. They were all locked. That was probably for the best. I really had no business looking into this car’s windows just because Jesse had unfairly ticketed it. And I definitely had no business breaking into it.
    I stepped away and moved back toward Someday. The best course of action was still getting Jesse to search the old Clark’s Dry Cleaners. That is, if he’d listen, which, for the first time since I’d known him, I was worried about.
    â€œIt’s you.” A man in an army jacket and dark pants, maybe ten years my senior, walked toward me. I didn’t know him, but he seemed to know me—at least he had the relaxed stance and friendly smile of someone I was supposed to know. He was average height, average build, in fact all the average stuff except for piercing blue eyes.
    â€œHave we met?”
    â€œNo, sorry.” When he reached me he held out his hand. “Robert Marshall; Bob. I’m new around here. Might be, anyway. I’m thinking of moving here.”
    There was a lot of power in his handshake. “Nell Fitzgerald,” I said. “I’m a little confused. You know me somehow?”
    â€œThat must have sounded odd. It’s just that I’ve seen you a couple of times, in the coffee shop and walking a golden retriever. I used to have a retriever. They’re nice dogs.”
    â€œThey certainly are.”
    â€œSo where is he?”
    â€œBarney—he’s at home or in the shop where I work.” I pointed toward Someday Quilts.
    â€œMy sister makes quilts. Maybe I can get her something. I was away for a while and she took care of my dog for me.”
    â€œThat’s very thoughtful of you. We do have a lot of nice gifts for quilters. And Barney will be happy to meet a new retriever friend if you do move here.”
    His smiled faded. “My dog died while I was away. But maybe it’s time for a puppy. I kept seeing you and Barney, and now you’re standing just a few feet from my car.” He pointed toward the blue sedan. “It must be a sign that I’m meant to start a new life here.”
    â€œYour car?” I eyed him more carefully, looking for the reason he’d received so much negative attention from Jesse. But I saw nothing out of the ordinary, except for his eyes, which were focused intently on me.
    â€œA bit boring, but it’s reliable,” he said. “Kind of like me.”
    â€œIt’s nice,” I said, unsure of what else to say. “Where are you from? I mean, where would you be moving from?”
    â€œThe city. New York City, I guess I should say. I love it there, but it’s a bit hectic, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œI do. I used to live there, too.”
    â€œAnd you moved up here? A woman after my own heart.” His wide smile grew even wider. “Good to see I’m not the only one. I drove up here just on a whim and I really like it. This town has a great vibe, don’t you think?”
    â€œIt does.” I felt like an idiot for being so suspicious of a car, and a stranger. My amateur detective tendencies had been on high alert since Roger’s body was found, and it was time to dial it back. “How long have you been in town?”
    â€œA few days. I was on my way to Montreal on a vacation, and I