She pointed to a chain restaurant across the parking lot. Matthew rolled his eyes, and headed there, walking because there was no point in driving that short distance, and the Carerra was probably safer where it was. He’d paid a premium to rent a Porsche for the two-hour drive up from the airport, and more for the insurance. He didn’t want to have to use it.

He ordered a meal, then killed the time waiting for the food to arrive by phoning the Realtor to set up a showing.

Her reaction surprised him. “Uh—Mr. Reid—I, uh—it’s the day before Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, I’m pretty clear on the date, Ms. Sullivan. Do you refuse to show houses during the holiday season or—?”

“Well, no, of course not, I just—I had no idea you were coming into town.”

“I didn’t think it would be a problem. You said the place was unoccupied. Look, if you’re too busy with your…holiday plans…I can swing by and pick up a key and some directions, and show myself around the place.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Well, what is it then?”

“I…I have a tenant there. Just for the holiday.”

“A tenant?”

“Well, not exactly a tenant. More like a guest.”

He blinked, completely puzzled.

“She lived there as a child, Mr. Reid. Her parents were friends of mine, and when she called asking if she could spend Christmas there, I thought there’d be no harm. It’s her first time back here in twelve years and I thought—”

“Her first time back in twelve years?” he asked. And he immediately thought of the hippie chick in the bright yellow Bug, dispensing pearls of wisdom to hapless strangers. For some reason the fact that it was her made him a little more irritated than he already was. And he ignored the other feeling. The little trickle of liquid heat that simmered through him at the thought of seeing her again. That made no sense whatsoever. So as he did with all things that made no sense, he ignored it.