“Luke Carmichael. But it was a dead end.” He explained the thinking behind the call, and what Luke had told him.
“So Luke’s the only one in the family who’s on the island right now?” she said thoughtfully when he was done.
“Yes, but there’s no chance he did it.”
“Of course not. I spoke to him on the phone while the bullets were flying. And why would he shoot up his girlfriend’s mother’s café, with his girlfriend inside?”
He’d forgotten about that part. Heather had been behind the counter the last time he’d seen her. “Like I said, dead end.”
“Maybe. But maybe it’s no coincidence that there were no Carmichaels around and it was the marina manager’s day off.”
“You mean Chad.”
“He hasn’t called, has he? I thought it might be him.”
“No Chad yet.”
“Please stop staying Chad. Bro names make my head hurt.” She rubbed her temples, making him laugh.
“So you think the shooter might have known that no one was around and it would be a good opportunity to steal one of the Carmichaels’ boats?” he asked after a moment.
“Maybe. Can’t rule it out. We need to find out where the Devil May Care is now. Where’s my phone? I need to call Luke and see if he’s contacted the Coast Guard yet.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You need to get back in that bathtub and soak some more. Then we need to dress your arm. Luke’s on it. He’ll reach out when he has something.”
She glared at him, and for a moment the air between them crackled with energy. He could feel it traveling under his skin like invisible lightning. His groin tightened and his breath halted.
Finally she lifted her chin proudly. “Fine. But if my phone rings, bring it to me.”
“Yes, Officer.”
It wasn’t until she’d disappeared back into the bathroom and closed the door behind her that he slumped onto the couch like a puppet with its strings cut. Tina-in-a-towel had quite an effect on him.
11
The next few days were chaos. Nothing like the Bloodshot Eyeball shootings had ever happened on Sea Smoke Island. The media got wind of the story and soon the island was crawling with reporters interviewing people who’d been at the café that day.
Sally McPhee got her fifteen minutes of fame when she gave an interview to a local TV morning show. Wiping away tears, she said, “My daughter warned me not to call my coffee shop the Bloodshot Eyeball, and I shoulda listened. First someone torches my kitchen, and now another bozo shoots up my windows. We’re just a hardworking business trying to keep our fishermen going. Now we gotta close again and when we open up, there’s gonna be a new name. We’re running a contest, so just go to our website if you got some brilliant idea for me.”
Trust Sally to ninja her second disaster into a marketing opportunity. It was hard to miss the big “donate” button next to the naming contest.
Reporters tried to find Tina too—everyone was calling her the hero of the day—but she stayed out of sight at the inn. Jack had the Honeymoon Suite booked for the whole week, which must have cost him a fortune, but that wasn’t her problem. He invited her to stay as long as she liked while he came and went from the Sunderland house.
Of course, she had her own room, but the suite had much more space and that bathtub was impossible to resist. Nothing else seemed to work as well on the residual aches and pains from that day at the Bloodshot Eyeball.
Not that she was hanging around playing with bath bubbles. The Coast Guard never spotted the Devil May Care, but there was a reason for that, which Tina had discovered when she went down to the marina herself the day after the shooting.
The Devil May Care was tied up in its slip as if it had never gone anywhere.
She’d called Luke right away, but didn’t wait for him to arrive to do a quick search. The shooter hadn’t left anything behind. Luke had suggested the Harbortown PD come out and dust for prints, but she’d told him there was no point; the gunman had worn gloves.
A couple of days later, she met Luke in the marina so they could compare notes on what they’d learned. His eyewitness interviews had been mostly a bust.
“Do you know you’re the only witness who’s been able to provide actual details?” he said, bemused.
“That’s because I made everyone hit the floor. Ruined my own investigation.”
“You saved lives,” he said firmly.
