The seating area was a little less morbid, thanks to the windows that looked out on the busy dock below and the walls adorned with vintage fishing paraphernalia such as nets made of actual rope and yellow rubber rain hats. These were interspersed with signs that proclaimed things like “Fishermen Like It Wet” and “The Fishing was Good. It was the Catching that was Bad.”
Heather gave Tina a hug, which surprised her. Since when had they gotten on hugging terms? Then again, it was true that Tina had appeared at certain very key moments over the past few months, with lives potentially in the balance. Apparently that deserved a hug.
“I heard you were on the island,” Heather said warmly.
“I literally just got here,” Tina checked her watch, “about five hours ago.”
Heather just laughed. “You’re on vacation, right?”
“Jesus. AI’s been watching me, hasn’t it?”
“Island grapevine. Even better.” Flipping her cinnamon-brown ponytail over one shoulder, Heather dragged her toward a table. “Come on, I’ll buy you a Mainland Mainline and you can tell me what you’re really doing here.”
“What’s in a?—”
“You don’t want to know. But trust me, it works.”
“Define ‘works.’ Does it mean ‘make me blab about confidential case details’?”
Heather laughed. “You know me so well.”
Nonetheless, Tina accepted the espresso pot Sally plopped on the table. The last food she’d eaten was this morning, when she’d lined her stomach with oatmeal in the hopes that it would stay in her belly during the boat ride. So she also accepted the basket of fries that Heather snagged fresh out of the deep fryer.
As she sipped her Mainline, she eyed the young woman across the table from her. If Tina had to describe Heather in one word, it would be scrappy, or maybe persistent. When it came to the stories she investigated for her podcast, she was relentless. But she was also fun to be around, a supportive friend to her co-host, Gabby, and openly passionate about Luke Carmichael, whom she’d gotten together with earlier in the summer. Tina had no doubt the relationship would last; that was how clearly in love they both were, to win over a skeptic like her.
“Okay. So what’s going on?” Heather demanded. “The last time I saw you, you made some cryptic reference to a crisis and then you disappeared.”
“Can’t talk about that.” Then she smiled sheepishly. “I can’t talk about it because us locals got shut out. That’s really all I know. But if you spot any federal agents lurking around, you can try them.”
“Hmmm, sounds juicy. Are you saying there’s some kind of federal operation going on out here?”
Her police chief had made it crystal clear she wasn’t supposed to be involved. It would serve them all right if she sicced the Dirty Rotten Bastards podcasters on them. But she didn’t want to get Heather and Gabby in trouble.
“I’m saying I don’t know anything, and have been instructed to keep it that way. That’s not why I’m out here, anyway. I’m looking into this shady character who skipped out on Marigold Olson.”
Heather’s freckled face lit up. “Oh good. We were interested in that story too. But we got distracted by a cold case.”
Tina didn’t especially like referring to Marigold’s case as “a story.” But she wouldn’t get anywhere by pointing that out. “Sounds fascinating. Tell me more.”
“The Night Light Murder,” Heather said dramatically. “A wealthy scion of industry stabbed to death in the middle of the night in the Lightkeeper’s most expensive suite. The entire island put into lockdown until everyone can be questioned. Suspicion falls on the staff since the victim was such a raging asshole that he’d offended just about everyone. No one ever confessed or came forward, and the case was never solved.”
Tina listened as she nibbled gingerly on a French fry. Had her stomach completely recovered yet? She’d find out soon enough. “You must have more than that. Any leads?”
“As a matter of fact, we do have a lead thanks to Gabby. Barnaby Carmichael let her go through the staff records of that time. It turns out that one of the kitchen staff quit her job about a week after the murder. She was one of the people who had complained about the victim. His name was James Schuyler the Third, by the way, and hers was Naomi Martin. She told her supervisor that Schuyler kept groping her. Nothing came of her complaint. But she was cleared because she had an alibi. Anyway, not only did Naomi quit, but she and her entire family left the island. She was a single mother with two kids. They never came back. So…right now, Gabby’s working on tracking her down.”
Interesting, but not much of a lead so far. She’d never get clearance to spend more than an hour or so finding someone who had an alibi. “Good luck to her. Have you looked into the power outage that night?”
Heather did a double-take, looking up from her espresso with a line of foam on her upper lip. “You know about the case?”
“The basics, sure. It came up because of the location of the incident. The same suite where Marigold’s fiancé was last seen.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s a complete coincidence. Many people have stayed in that suite since then.”
“I didn’t say it was connected. I said that’s how it came up.” Tina was a stickler for precision, although she wasn’t good at keeping that to herself.
Heather’s face fell. “Right. So how’s it going with Marigold? I hope you find that bastard. Luke says he seemed like a perfectly nice guy to him. He was shocked to hear what happened.”
Tina squirted ketchup onto her French fries; so far so good in terms of food. “Luke met him?”
