Jack wrapped his arm around her and held on to her firmly. At some point, he’d put his shirt back on, for which she was both deeply grateful and secretly regretful. “All right, let’s go. Who do you want to talk to first?”
There were worse jobs in the world than acting as Officer Tina Chen’s human crutches. She smelled good, for one thing. A pleasant honey fragrance rose from her inky black hair. The bump on the back of her head was so big he could actually see it.
As for the wound on her arm, she was apparently just going to ignore that. The blood had dried into a long red stripe visible through the rip in the sleeve of her black shirt. Did she always wear black? he wondered. Even though she was off-duty, her clothes had the feel of a uniform.
Before they left the café, Tina insisted on checking on the customers who were now mostly recovered and exchanging war stories about what they’d experienced. The place was a mess of broken glass and toppled chairs.
“You okay?” she asked everyone. “Any injuries? What did you see and hear? Any idea who would want to shoot the Bloodshot Eyeball?”
She got quite a few gushing thanks from customers who’d been frozen in place, sitting ducks for more bullets, before she’d yelled at them to get down. “Glad you’re all right,” she kept saying in response. “Just doing my job. You might experience trauma symptoms over the next few days, and even beyond, so be on the watch for those. Trouble sleeping, anxiety, difficulty in focusing. A qualified counselor can help you work through your emotions.”
As he helped her toward the door, he murmured, “Don’t think you’ll get too many takers on the counseling. I don’t believe there’s a single one on this island, and folks are too busy to take a trip to town for something like that. They’re tough out here, these Mainers.”
“Toughness has nothing to do with it,” she snapped. “Know who else is tough? My parents and all the other immigrants trying to make it in a new country. Anyone in the military. Police officers. Mothers have to be tough. A lot of people do. That doesn’t mean they don’t experience stress and everything that comes with it.”
He gazed down at her, eyebrows lifting. “Did that bump on your head knock you chatty?”
She groaned out loud. “Maybe it did. Sorry, it’s a sore point that people think ‘toughness’ is the same as ‘ignoring all the shit that’s going to make you ill later in your life.’ I have this argument with half my department too.”
Before they stepped outside, she turned and surveyed the scene one more time. “Someone’s missing.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a man at the counter. Big muscular guy with sideburns.”
Jack had seen him too. “Sounds like Benny Clyde. He’s a lobsterman. I knew him as a kid.”
“He sure took off fast.”
“He’s probably not a big fan of the police. The Clydes have always taken care of their own business.”
Tina waved at Sally, who hurried over to them. “Did you see Benny Clyde leave?”
“Oh yeah, that boy booked it out of here. Never did like crowds.”
“Did he seem scared at all?”
“Benny?” She gave a hoot. “Nah. He said something like, ‘welp, I’m awake now, gotta get to work.’”
Jack wondered if Tina thought he’d been the target, but she said nothing else before stepping outside.
On the front deck, she gripped the railing and inhaled deep breaths of crisp salt air coming off the ocean. “I got this. You can go home and take a breather.”
“Hell no.” He met her glare with his own stubborn gaze. “ I’m not letting you walk around on your own. You can waste time arguing or we can go find Luke. Up to you.”
Still grumbling, she took a step then paused, wavering. He bit his tongue to keep from saying “told you so.” Lifting her chin, she gave him an imperious wave. “Well, come on then.”
He obeyed, as if it had been her idea all along to allow him to help her.
They found Luke Carmichael on the dock. He was a tall, easygoing guy with the trademark deep blue eyes of the Carmichael clan. He told them he’d just finished interviewing three kids with fishing rods and a birdwatcher who’d been monitoring a rare plover.
“The birdwatcher heard the shots but thought they were fireworks. He kept his focus on the plover, which was so startled that it flew right over the dock. He got some great shots.”
“Of a bird, not of the boat?” Tina asked. “This is Jack, by the way. Jack, Luke, island constable.”
Luke gave him a brief nod, showing no signs of recognition. Jack appreciated that, as well as Tina’s barebones way of introducing him. “Correct. The kids did see the boat, but it’s hard to get an accurate description from them. One said it was blue and had two engines. Another said he saw five people onboard. The third said someone was waterskiing behind it.” Luke flipped shut his notebook. “Not much help there. None of them recognized the gunman, but they did all agree that he wore a mask. A Covid-type mask, nothing special.”
Tina handed Luke her phone, which she’d cued up to a photo. “I took these from the Bloodshot Eyeball. We should be able to ID the boat.”
