Chapter 16

In the middle of swearing a blue streak, the bell above the door tinkled, announcing someone’s arrival. I put on my most welcoming smile and turned to face my guest. And froze.

It was indeed Wheeler Ridley in the flesh, now an adult and looking like he’d stepped out of GQ magazine. His light brown skin and thick black hair were a testament to his Latino heritage on his mother’s side, but the green eyes were his dad’s. Though no more than a few seconds had passed, it felt like a lifetime to me.

I cleared my throat and said, “Welcome to Misty View Motel. Do you have a reservation?” I thought if I played it cool, I could get through this.

“Ah, yeah. It’s Ridley. Wheeler is the first name.” He adjusted the bag strap on his broad shoulder and waited as I clicked around on the computer screen. Good thing he couldn’t see my fingers trembling on the mouse.