A frail old man with friendly eyes came up and offered his hand, speaking in a soft and slow manner. "I'm Sean Whitner, miss. I couldn't help but catch what you were saying."
Couldn't help but catch what I was saying? She raised her eyebrows but kept quiet as she shook his hand. "Trisha Lockhart."
The other men joined in to introduce themselves, and Sean chimed in once more. "Would you like us to get your car?"
Her shoulders relaxed as she felt a wave of relief wash over her. "I'd really appreciate that." She suddenly remembered the issue with her keys. "But, you see, there's a tiny problem. I, uh... locked my keys in the car." She braced herself, expecting some laughter or teasing, but everyone remained serious.
Sean turned to a younger guy with freckles. "Hey, Jack, call Matteo!" he said with a no-nonsense tone. "I'm pretty sure he can figure out how to unlock the car. I'll go fetch a gas can."
She rested her hand gently on his arm and flashed a grateful smile. "I'd like to compensate you for your help," she said appreciatively.
The man shook his head, lowering his voice as he replied, "No need for that, miss."
A few minutes passed, and a police officer with a balding head, a bristly mustache, and thick eyebrows walked into the store. His look reminded her to iconic character like Hercule Poirot from the movies.
Sean positioned himself next to her and introduced, "Matteo, I'd like you to meet Jer-Bear's manager. This is Miss Lockhart."
The officer, his face showing a warm and genuine smile, shook her hand firmly. "Matteo Everson. Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
Trisha shifted her attention from his spiky mustache to his gray eyes. "Likewise." She couldn't help but feel surprised. Given the situation, these were some of the friendliest folks she had ever encountered.
"I heard you need help with your car. Where is it parked?"
She gave them the exact location, and the officer and Sean headed off to retrieve it. The other guys started chatting all at once, and one of them offered her a folding chair while another handed her a scratchy blanket. Their kindness felt like a warm embrace after the stressful ride into town.
Trisha couldn't help but contrast their thoughtfulness with Dashiell's earlier strained expression. She definitely preferred this kind of hospitality over tension any day.
The guy in the orange t-shirt, Carl Johnson, leaned in with his thumbs tucked into his well-worn jeans.
"So, you're the project manager from the city," he said, exhaling a cloud of chewing-tobacco-scented air, his voice as loud as his shirt.
Her heart jumped. It was a small town; they were bound to know her role. She squirmed in her chair and wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. "Yep, that's me. You heard about it?"
Carl grinned, revealing a few tobacco-stained teeth. "Oh, we've heard about it, alright. But don't you worry, we're a friendly bunch here in Azure Bay Island."
Trisha nodded, trying to appear friendly despite the unsettling encounter with them. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of stories and rumors had circulated about her role in the small town.
As the minutes ticked by, she found herself growing more curious about the island's residents and their way of life.
She returned a polite but reserved smile, still taken aback by the warm reception she was receiving from these islanders. As the men continued to talk about the island's beauty and charm, she found herself increasingly intrigued by their descriptions. It was as if they were talking about an entirely different place, one that was vibrant and enchanting, rather than the desolate island she had imagined.
Carl chimed in first. "You know, the fishing here is top-notch. Azure Bay's got some of the best catches around." His gravelly, tobacco-scented voice sounded like it came from someone who knew a lot about fishing.
The other kindly elderly man, Henry Turner, followed with a warm smile. "And the folks here? Friendliest you'll ever meet. Always ready to lend a hand." His soft-spoken way of talking made what he said sound genuine.
Jack Morrigan, the younger man with freckles, joined in eagerly. "Don't forget about the annual island festival! It's a blast, with music, dancing, and good food." His enthusiasm was infectious, making the festival sound like a must-attend event.
The man with the bushy mustache and thick eyebrows, Frank Williams, added, "The sunsets over Azure Bay are like nothing you've ever seen. A real sight to behold." His description made the island's natural beauty sound really clear and vivid.
Their words painted a picture of a place that seemed far more inviting and charming than Trisha had initially thought.
She couldn't help but wonder why the Azure Bay project seemed to be going downhill despite the glowing descriptions she was hearing from the locals. It was like she had stumbled into a different world where the island was a paradise, and it didn't match the negative reports she had received about it. She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't adding up, and she was determined to find out what was really going on with the project.
The jingling bell above the door caught her attention, and she turned to see a man coming closer, his round face beaming with a friendly expression.
Trisha stood up and extended her hand towards Jeremy Mitchell, introducing herself, "You must be—" She couldn't help but notice that he indeed resembled a bear, hence the nickname Jer-Bear. He had a stocky build with a rosy complexion.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm really glad you made it," he replied warmly with a warm handshake. "Once they retrieve your car, where are you planning to stay?"
She smiled as she responded, "Well, the company arranged for me to stay at the staff house while I'm here."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he asked, "Oh, you're staying at the staff house? Are you sure? Did they tell you about its condition?"
She furrowed her brows and asked, "Condition? What do you mean?"
He hesitated for a moment, unable to explain, so he offered, "Well, ma'am, it's probably best if I just take you there. You can see the condition for yourself."
Jeremy led her through a winding, rutted road that seemed to defy the laws of asphalt and gravity. The rain had transformed it into a mudslide waiting to happen. Trisha held on for dear life as they bumped and swayed along, her eyes widening with each jolt. It was exactly as Dashiell had described, a road that seemed more like an obstacle course. Luckily, she didn't have to walk to reach there.
As Jeremy opened a squeaky, decaying door, Trisha gasped, her eyes absorbing the filthy, broken state of the house.
"Do you see how the wood's rotted here?"
She saw it, and she nodded at the man who had brought her to the house. It was just a temporary place to stay for the night, but it was also her only option. Emotions welled up inside her, making it hard to breathe.
"Ma'am, do you have somewhere else you can stay?" he asked.
She shook her head, her movements tight and abrupt, feeling like they might snap her neck or splinter her spine.
"I can't believe the office thought you could stay in this place," Jeremy remarked, shaking his head. "There's not even carpet on the floor."
Trisha let her gaze wander over the bare concrete before she turned away. This place was living up to her worst expectations.
No, she told herself as she descended the front steps. Nothing could be as bad as staying on Azure Bay island.
"Is there a motel?" she inquired, her voice sounding unlike her usual self.
"Sure thing."
Exhaustion coursed through her as she considered the thought of finding accommodation in town. Perhaps she could leave the car behind and have Jeremy take her to the hotel, then retrieve her suitcase from the car later.
He was a gentleman likely in his late forties, lived here much longer to show her around safely. "The Cartier Motel," he suggested. "It's the best in town, and it's best location."
"Probably not close to the project site," she said, casting a sidelong glance at him. "Right?"
"Oh, yes, it's not close to the project site," he clarified, shaking his head. "That's north of here, about thirty minutes or so. Can't miss it."
Trisha wasn't entirely sure about that. She had intended to get settled in the staff house and then make a brief visit to the project site, just to get a sense of the land and this new place she was soon to call home.
"Do you have another option? Is there any other place closer to the project site?" she asked, hoping for an alternative that would save her some travel time.
Jeremy pondered for a moment before suggesting, "Well, there's another option, ma'am. There's a lady named Gwen Hoover who sometimes takes in visitors. She lives closer to the project site, a little ways off the main road. She's known for her hospitality and kindness. Would you like me to take you there?"
Trisha considered the option and then nodded, "Yes, please. Take me to her place. It sounds like a better fit for what I need right now. Thank you, Jeremy."
As Jeremy drove her towards Gwen Hoover's place, Trisha couldn't help but feel curious about this woman who was known for her hospitality. She wondered what kind of person Gwen was and how she would be received in her company. The island was proving to be full of surprises, and she hoped that the old lady would be a welcoming presence in this unfamiliar territory.