Cheeks burning, Scout kept her eyes on the windshield.
Maisie quickened her pace, skipping a half step to match Frankie’s longer strides as they wove through downtown Bar Harbor. They’d hopped off the Island Explorer at the Village Green after catching it from Hulls Cove Visitor Center. The air was thick with salt and the tempting scent of fried seafood, but she barely noticed. Her focus stayed locked on Frankie’s back, as if keeping him in sight meant she wouldn’t fall behind in more ways than one.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, annoyance all over his face. “Try and think of every identifying clue this guy gave you so we can figure out who he is. And I don’t want to hear that he’ssupercute. You’ve made that clear.”
Maisie’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t miss a beat. “Are you jealous?” she asked, her voice lifting with the tiniest hint of hope.
Frankie snorted. “Not in this lifetime.”
Her face fell, and she kicked a loose pebble down the sidewalk. She had such high hopes for this summer’s visit. She’d been here less than twenty-four hours, and she’d already created a huge crisis for Pops, one that made her seem like such a child.
He turned to her, exasperated. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What did this super cute dude reveal about himself?”
“Oh. Right! Let me try to remember.”
“Do more than try. You heard your grandfather, Maisie. I’m skating on thin ice with him, and it’s all your fault.”
“It’s not entirely my fault.”
“It sure is.” Frankie huffed. “My dad had to pull strings to get me into Acadia, and I’m pretty sure your grandfather was one of them. So if I get kicked out, guess what? That’s on you.”
Maisie gasped. She’d never let Pops kick Frankie out. Not until summer was over and she had to drag herself back to high school. She opened her mouth to say so, but Frankie cut her off with a sharp slice of his hand through the air.
“Just ... remember what this guy told you.”
She slowed her steps. “He said he’s a local. Been here all his life.”
Frankie nodded, his tone more practical now. “That’s something. Let’s hit the coffee shop where you lost the envelope. Someone there might know him. Try to see if the same person who waited on you is working there.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “Oh, wait. You’re not even old enough to buy coffee.”
Maisie huffed and jogged a little to catch up. “Excuse me? I drink coffee, thank you very much.” Only if she added tons of cream and sugar. “I’mnota kid.”
“Uh-huh. Sure. Hope you brought your ID.” He pulled open the coffee shop door and strolled inside without waiting.
Maisie stopped short. “For coffee? You don’t need an ID for—” The door swung shut in her face. She grabbed the handle and yanked it open. “Do you?”
Chase read through the papers in the envelope for the sixth time, his heart pounding as he reread the line of the confession on the newspaper clipping. His mind raced with the implications, the kind of exposure this story could bring—not just for him, not just for the newspaper, but for the entire park. It could bring incredible attention.
He paced back and forth across the creaky hardwood floors of his living room, one hand gripping the back of his neck. He’d lost count of how many laps he’d made between the couch and the window, but the nervous energy wouldn’t let up. He stopped mid-step, his gaze snapping to the coffee table in front of the couch. The envelope sat there, accusingly. What was he even thinking when he took it?
He exhaled hard, rubbing his face. What would his dad do if he were in this spot? Thinking of his dad made him wince. His father had always been a straight-arrow kind of guy, the kind who returned extra change if the cashier gave him too much. The kind who wouldn’t even use a fast-food restaurant’s bathroom on a road trip without buying something first. Chase could practically hear his voice now.“You never take what doesn’t belong to you, Son. Doesn’t matter what the reason is.”
He crossed to the bay window, needing air, needing space. Outside, the ocean roared against the rocks as the tide surged higher. Waves exploded in foamy bursts, sending spray high into the air. It was as if the sea itself was trying to knock some sense into him. Chase leaned on the windowsill, staring at the water, the tension in his chest squeezing tighter. His reflection stared back at him in the window, looking just as conflicted as he felt.
“God,” he said aloud, his voice low but firm. “Give me a sign. Help me figure out how to make this right.” A particularly massive wave slammed into the rocks, a thunderclap of conscience, and Chase flinched as it sent droplets spattering against the glass.
He dropped his head, his forehead almost touching the pane. “Okay. I get your message. Loud and clear.”
Radio conversation between Chief Ranger Tim Rivers and Ranger Scout Johnson:
Tim:(over radio, a hint of impatience) “Johnson, this is Chief. You and Naki turn up anything yet?”
Scout:(over radio, slight static) “Still working a lead. We’ve been driving around the park, trying to see if something might be a trigger for Naki.”
Tim:“You’ve been at it a while. What’s theholdup?”
