“On their way.” Ruugar’s gaze moved between Riley and me, a smile tugging at his lips. “Sel and Holly are bringing breakfast.”
“Perfect.” Riley smiled at Beth who grinned back and started clearing a spot for a small buffet on a table stretching across the back of the room while Riley cooed at baby Noma riding in the pack on Beth’s back.
“Did you find anything unusual in the records?” I asked Ruugar.
Ruugar shook his head. “Nothing obvious, but thereare some repeating names, tourists who’ve extended their stays or returned multiple times this month.”
“Those are our priority.” I opened the binder, already scanning the neat columns of signatures and dates.
By the time the rest of my brothers and their mates arrived, I’d already identified twenty-seven individuals who had been present during at least three incidents. Riley sat beside me with Noma on her lap, her own list growing as she sorted through delivery logs and maintenance schedules.
“The luminook tour has been especially popular,” Sel said, placing a box of pastries, bread, and condiments on the back table, Holly adding carafes of tea and coffee, Allie unloading mugs. “The same group keeps coming back to see them.”
“Which group?” I asked, lifting a cinnamon roll off the plate Holly had handed me without looking up from my work.
“Mostly older women,” Tark said. “Retirement-age humans fascinated by the bioluminescence. They call themselves the ‘Glow Getters’.”
Hail snorted. “Tour-tourists and their puns.” He shared a smile with Allie.
I added the information to my matrix, creating a special notation for repeat luminook tour participants.
For the next several hours, we worked through the mountain of information, each brother taking responsibility for a different aspect of the investigation. Hail left to interview the saloon’s gift shop staff and Aunt Inla about who on our list had purchased luminookmerchandise. Gracie and Tark checked with the photographers who documented tourist activities for suspicious behavior. Carla and Becken spoke with tour guides and activity leaders.
Meanwhile, Riley and I refined our matrix, eliminating names of people who couldn’t have been present for certain incidents. A pattern began to emerge.
Riley tapped her finger on a particular section of the matrix, Noma following the movement with her dark eyes while Beth stood nearby, ready to take the youngling if she started getting fussy. “These three names appear at every major incident.”
I leaned closer, studying the highlighted rows. “Franklin Prescott, Andrea Wilkins, and Peter Morgan.”
“Franklin Prescott is the name on the delivery receipts for the specialized cage,” Riley said. “Does anyone remember him enough to describe him?” she asked the group gathered round.
My brothers and their mates shook their heads.
I frowned, a theory forming in my mind. “What if he doesn’t exist? It could be a false identity created to receive something like this.”
“There was no packing material,” Riley said. “For all we know, they ordered the cage on Amazon and had it shipped overnight.”
“I don’t remember anyone at the hotel receiving a large package,” Greel said. “But I’ll ask Lavon and his kitchen staff. They cover the desk if I or Jessi aren’t around.”
“And Aunt Inla,” I said.
Jessi left to grab the hotel register, returning quickly, showing that there hadn’t been anyone named Franklin Prescott staying at the hotel.
“He could’ve stayed nearby,” Riley said. “And driven to town each day.”
It wasn’t that uncommon, especially if the hotel was full. But if someone was that excited about what we had to offer, enough to visit more than three times, they tended to stay in town to have access to all the events.
I made notes about Franklin.
“Do any of us know anything about Wilkins or Morgan?” I asked.
We combed through the visitor information and did some searching online, creating detailed profiles of both suspects. Ashley Wilkins was a retired biology teacher from Seattle who had visited Lonesome Creek three times in the past month, each time participating in the luminook tour. Peter Morgan worked as an influencer, and we discovered he had an associate’s degree in biochemistry.
“Either could have the knowledge to understand our luminooks,” I said, adding notes to each profile. “Both have been present during every incident.”
“The gift shop records show Peter Morgan purchased several luminook souvenirs, including crystal pins.”
“So do a lot of people,” Jessi said. “They’re quite popular.”
