Holding her tight, I kissed her brow again. “I can make that happen.”
Forty
MADDEN
The ferry slid through the faint chop of Pamlico Sound, a subtle rise and fall of the deck beneath my feet as I stood at the rail, staring out at the sky painted with late-summer clouds. In the distance, a thin spine of land rose from the water, too far yet to see more than a hint of color, but I knew Hatterwick. It wasn’t the same place I’d left, and I wasn’t the same woman who’d made exactly this crossing two months ago. I felt so different coming back to it now, Rios at my side, his shoulder pressed to mine.
Everything had happened so fast. Carson’s death had sent a shockwave across the island. There was no pretty story for what happened—no way to explain away a veteran police chief shot down on a dock, the crack of a sniper’s rifle echoing off the sound. The Coast Guard had determined he’d been executed, most likely by someone connected to the drug running operation they were investigating. That piece wasn’t common knowledge. What was common knowledge now was that Carson had been on the take, something SBI investigators had determined when they’d shown up by Labor Day with their badges and rental cars, all business and no interest in small-town mythmaking.
They’d found decades of payouts, small regular deposits, new appliances bought in cash, old debts erased. Everything tied back to the shoddy, dismissive work I’d uncovered in those missing persons files. Local officials weren’t hiring a replacement chief until the audit was over. Half the councilmen were still fighting about whether the interim should come from “the outside.” The only thing anyone agreed on was that there were more secrets still to come.
There’d been no further threats on my life. The summer’s fever had broken, and the island itself seemed quieter for it. Unease lingered in the spaces between conversations—the way people looked away from the marina, the sudden hush in the coffee shop when the news came on. They knew now that none of it was over. Carson hadn’t been a mastermind. He’d been a loose end. And I couldn’t forget what Rios had told me he’d screamed: “This is so much bigger than the law. And when it all crashes down, know it’ll be her fault.” I didn’t know what he meant, not fully. But I wondered what I’d started. What I’d set loose by refusing to let things stay buried.
But there was a limit to what Rios and I could do. That was why, after the investigation into Carson’s shooting wound down, we’d left the island behind. We disappeared into the Blue Ridge Mountains—no phones, no internet, nobody but each other. We let the world shrink down to the basics: coffee, eggs, the hush of rain on a tin roof, and a king-sized bed in a cabin that scented with cedar and old quilts. We talked—long, wandering conversations about what we wanted and who we were now. We didn’t come up with answers for everything. But we figured out the only things that mattered for sure: we wanted each other, and we wanted Hatterwick. For now, that was enough.
I felt changed. Less like someone running, more like someone—maybe, possibly—coming home.
As the ferry blasted the horn, announcing our impending arrival, Rios curled a hand around my waist. “Ready?”
I tipped my head to his shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
As we wandered back to his truck, I spotted Peggy Garrett, who’d been assistant to Sutter’s Ferry’s mayors for the last thirty years. As she caught my eye, saw who I was with, I half expected her to duck her head and slip into her car. Instead, she squared her shoulders and walked over to us with purpose.
“Madden, Rios. I wasn’t sure either of you were coming back to the island.”
“Mrs. Garrett.” I managed to work up a polite company smile. “We’re not through with Hatterwick yet.”
She offered a decisive nod. “Good. Thank you—” Her gaze slid to Rios. “Both of you—for doing right by the island. It means more to everyone than y’all can know.”
Rios blinked, clearly taken aback by the thanks and what seemed sort of like an apology.
I tightened my hand on his arm. “Thank you. We appreciate that.” The ferry horn sounded again, and I gave a little wave. “Time to load up. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”
We slipped into his truck, Rios behind the wheel. He stared straight ahead for a few long moments. “That was… different.”
“Hopefully, it’s a preview of things to come.”
He angled his head in a way that clearly said he wasn’t holding his breath, and I let the subject drop. He had a long and complicated history with this place, and he’d make his peace with that in his own time.
The moment our tires bumped off the ferry, he turned north toward Sutter House. Willa and Sawyer were putting us up again until we made other arrangements, and they’d gathered everyone up for a party to celebrate our return.
The drive in front of Sutter House was already full of vehicles when we pulled up. The side door opened before we’d even made it out of the truck.
“There they are!” Willa’s bright voice rang out. “About damn time.”
Roy and the foster dog bulleted out behind her, racing over to us with madly wagging tails. Rios and I paid the necessary canine toll, handing out pets and ear scruffs and chest scratches until we could make it over to the house.
I barely had time to brace before Willa wrapped me up in a hug that held more fierce affection than I’d been prepared for. After a moment’s hesitation, I hugged her back. She smelled like soap and something herbal, her hair pulled back in a messy knot like she’d been cooking.
“You look—” she pulled back, hands landing on my shoulders, eyes scanning my face. “You look good.”
I had no idea how to answer that, so I just smiled and stroked my hand over the foster pup’s ears, since he’d already attached himself to my hip.
Over Willa’s shoulder, I spotted Sawyer yanking Rios into one of those back-slapping man hugs. “Welcome home, man. Come on in.”
Everyone was gathered around the kitchen island, hunched over baskets of snacks and boards of charcuterie like cheerful gremlins. Bree was defending the salami and cheese from Ford. Daniel appeared to be calling dibs on the pepper jelly and cream cheese with crackers, and Gabi was at a blender making margaritas.
She stabbed the machine off and crossed to pull her brother into a fast, tight hug. Then she turned to me. I hesitated less than I had with Willa. It was hard to balk in the face of Carrera affection, I’d learned. They were a very We will hug you, and you will like it sort of family. I’d come to appreciate that.
