For lack of anywhere better to be, Greg had spent the evening and well into the night sitting quietly on the front porch of the half-filled Lamont B&B. As it was obvious over the phone that Jessica was drunk, or well on her way there, he’d scouted around town. But Jessica wasn’t at the Bobbin’ Red Robin Tavern or the Brass Plover Pub. He’d even checked to see if she’d decided to party on the afterdeck of her father’s fishing boat. Greg ignored the fear as he rushed there that she’d had too much, fallen overboard in the middle of their conversation, and been washed out with the tide, because that was just a little too psychotic even for him. The boat rested dark and quiet at dock.
Natalya was also nowhere to be found which made him feel a little better. It was always better to go on a bend
