She related the essentials of what Jack had told her about Jessie, and the man she’d been seeing, and the phone call from the Honeymoon Suite that night. As she listened, Marigold’s open, sunny face darkened.
“I gotta think about this. It’s not like we were together all the time, so I don’t know what he did when he was alone. I thought he was working. Maybe not.”
“What work did he do?”
“One of those jobs that require high-speed internet and lots of Zoom meetings. He said he was a financial consultant for high-net-worth individuals. Sometimes he would have to take a call in private because they insisted on complete confidentiality. He took business trips to places like Hong Kong and Tokyo…” She trailed off, her shoulders slumping. “At least that’s what he said. I don’t know where he actually went, now that I think about it. Maybe he went down the road to the Sunderland house. Geez Louise, I’m a fool.”
Tina touched her shoulder briefly. There was solid muscle under that pale blue work shirt. She hated the fact that someone as down-to-earth and real as Marigold had gotten tangled up with a fucker like Adam/Seth. “Look, the last thing you should do is beat yourself up. These guys are experts in manipulating and fooling people. I guarantee you aren’t the only one who fell for whatever he was selling.”
“Can you guarantee I’m not the only assistant constable who did?” Marigold made a face. “I think I’d better demote myself back to constable’s assistant.”
Tina hated seeing her so down. What would she do if Marigold was one of her friends? How many times had she talked her friends off a self-esteem ledge?
“Absolutely not. Here, look in the mirror.” Tina twisted the rearview mirror so Marigold faced it. “See that strong, capable, confident woman there? I know us women like to internalize things, but let’s not let that happen. I need you in the game, Marigold. You were savvy enough to suspect something beyond a basic runaway fiancé, and you were smart enough to call me in. Now let’s get this bastard. He deserves the beating, not you.”
Marigold blinked a few times as she faced her reflection. “I’m strong.”
“You’re strong.”
“And capable.”
“Very.”
“But I’m no model.”
“Excuse me?”
“And I’m not wealthy.” Marigold shoved the mirror back into place and turned to face Tina. “Do I look like the kind of woman a hotshot financial consultant would want to marry? No. Do I have the kind of money that would make up for it? No. So what the hell was he doing with me? What was he after? That’s what I can’t figure out.”
At least she was turning the focus back to Adam. “Excellent question. I’ve been thinking about that too. What about your job at the constable’s office? Anything there?”
Marigold tilted her head back with a hoot of laughter. “My job making coffee and filing paperwork?”
“Oh come on. I know you do more than that. You’re Luke’s backup, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but we’re talking teenagers smoking weed in empty summer houses and the occasional D.V. incident. Those are my specialty. For some reason a six-foot-tall Norse maiden showing up at your door makes men think twice. Women too, since that’s been known to happen too. In the middle of winter, when it’s blowing a gale, people can go a little crazy out here.”
“I believe it, though I don’t plan to find out. So did Adam ever express any interest in your job?”
“Not really. We did have sex in the office a couple times. Once we did it in the lockup. It was part of a role-play thing. Pretty sexy if you ask me. I always had a fantasy about that, so he offered to?—”
“Okay, I think I’m good on the details,” Tina said quickly. So Adam had spent time at the constable’s office; that seemed worth noting. “Quick question. Does the name Sally or Sandy ring any bells?”
“The only Sandy on the island is Sandy Clyde, who married Brendan a few years ago. No one sees her much since she’s busy with her two little kids.”
That didn’t sound promising as another potential lover of Adam/Seth.
“As for Sally, there’s Sally McPhee, of course.” She waved at the Bloodshot Eyeball, the café perched on a rickety deck overlooking the dock. “I’m sure you know her. Heather’s mother. There’s Heather now, in fact.”
As if on cue, they spotted Heather McPhee walking her bike around the flagpole toward the café. Perfect timing. Tina had hoped to run into Heather or Gabby, who’d uncovered a lot of dirty secrets since they’d been on this island. “I’m going to hop out here. I’m going to want to see the place where Adam was staying. Want to go there tomorrow?”
“Sure, but he cleared it out completely when he left. I searched it myself. He owed two months of rent, too. God, I’m an idiot.”
8
They made plans to meet the next morning for breakfast at the inn. Tina wasn’t too worried about getting back to the Lightkeeper without a vehicle. There was always someone headed that way, including the inn’s shuttle vans and golf carts. If worse came to worst, she could walk. It was probably at the most a five-mile trek.
She caught up with Heather inside the newly renovated café, which glistened with black paint and smelled pleasantly of coffee and freshly milled lumber. Sally McPhee was known for her caustic sense of humor. Who else would name their café after a hangover symptom? And who else, after it was burned down by an arsonist, would repaint the kitchen in pure black?
