Page 15 of Bait and Switch (Subtle Deceptions #2)

ELEVEN

Gabriel

Tuesday afternoon into evening

After they left the Geoduck Inn, Elton dropped Gabriel off at the marina. It was late afternoon, and he had a full stomach and a lot to think about.

“I’ll check in tomorrow,” he told Elton.

Slush was falling, a gross mix of rain and snow. It wasn’t pretty and it didn’t hint at magical—it was cold. The world was wet and oversaturated, but just one look west told him that the white stuff was accumulating on the hills and higher peaks.

Aboard the Ticket , Gabe stomped around to get his feet warm again and then fumbled with the thermostat because his fingers were cold, but eventually he managed to fire up the old boat’s heater.

He puttered around for a good hour, one ear listening for his neighbor, before starting to wonder where the hell Lundin was.

Again, the Wagoneer had not been parked in its spot when he got to the marina.

Gabe had questions about Casey’s brother, like if Mickie might have known Peter.

Or—a long shot, from what Elton had told him—if maybe Casey had.

Thoughts swirled and danced in his brain like the tails of a kite.

Gabe would mentally grab hold of one possibility, but then another would pop into his head and the first would fall to the wayside.

There was a whole damn pile of them lying there waiting to be taken seriously.

Was there a deeper connection between Peter and Heartstone, one that hadn’t been ended by Peter himself over twenty years ago?

Gabe hated feeling like the odd guy out, which he totally was on the island.

He was the new arrival. The social history of the island was a murky unknown to him, which put him at a disadvantage.

If Gabe was going to figure out who killed Peter Vale before the cops decided Gabe had been the one to off him, he needed to act fast.

Know your audience, Chance.

How many times had his mother said that?

Too many to count. Heidi had been incredibly successful because she always had done her homework.

Always . Heidi Karne did not barge into a situation without knowing the net worth of everyone present, who they were romantically and monetarily involved with, and what their weakest points were.

Gabe had barged in. Admittedly, he’d been in a bit of a hurry. But still, he’d violated Heidi’s rule number one. He did not know enough.

He glanced around the cabin; he desperately needed a notebook and something to write with. He was also wishing he’d bought a phone with more bells and whistles, but the one he’d gone with was basic and had no internet capabilities. Staring at the almost useless thing, he snorted.

“What was I thinking?”

He’d been thinking it was the best way to stay out of trouble.

And look where that got you. Still in trouble.

If anyone had told him that by the end of the year, Gabe would be living on a sketchy sailboat with no internet and no laptop, not even a fancy coffee maker, he would have laughed his ass off. And yet, here he was.

Pulling his parka back on and sliding his feet into his boots, Gabe stepped back out onto the pier.

It was colder than when he’d returned; the slush had turned to snow and was starting to stick.

It was postcard pretty, but being a Northwesterner, Gabe did not trust it.

Maybe folks were used to snow around here.

Maybe it wouldn’t start to melt by morning and turn the roads into sheets of ice.

Carefully, he made his way down the dock and across the road to the store.

A guy around his age was working the checkout counter. There were no signs of the younger folk who’d been working his last few visits.

“Evening,” Gabe said. He got a nod in return.

“Can I help you find something?” the man asked.

“I’m in need of a notebook or pad of paper, and something to write with,” Gabe replied, making his way down the aisle toward the checkout.

The guy narrowed his eyes and bit the inside of his lip, clearly thinking. Now that he was close enough, Gabe could read his name tag: Barry .

“Ah, you must be the new guy,” Barry said, coming out from behind the counter.

“That’s me, the new guy.” Funny that he’d had that thought before making the short trip over from the marina. “I’m Gabriel Karne.”

And no angel.

Thanks, Mom.

“Barry Dawson,” Barry replied, extending his hand. “Welcome to Heartstone.”

After quickly shaking hands, Barry directed Gabe toward the VHS and DVD library. “I think Mercy might have some stuff like that stocked over there. I’ve seen coloring books. For game nights and the like. In general, locals don’t shop here for school supplies.”

“Thanks.”

And that was how Gabe ended up with a glitter-encrusted Hello Kitty notebook and matching pink pen.

“Pretty sure Mercy ordered those when Brooklyn was wild about that cat. Everything in our house was pink.” He shook his head. “They’ve been on the shelf for a few years. I’ll give it to you half off.”

Since he was there already, Gabe grabbed a quart of ice cream from the freezer and a couple of apples for the morning.

Why not live it up a bit? Lonely Street, a black cherry double-chocolate brownie ice cream – part of Jewel Creamery’s new Angsty and Emo series — was a much better choice than the six-pack of IPA he’d turned his back on.

Except for a couple of times the last week or so, he hadn’t craved alcohol much since he stopped drinking, at least not enough to give in.

Previously, he’d tried The Licorice Experience, which had been amazing, and fancy-as-fuck ice cream, he’d discovered, was better than getting drunk.

“Thanks, Barry.”

“Any time. You know where we are.”

Gabe made his way back across the road, unreasonably irritated that Casey and Bowie were still not home, as evidenced by the lack of Casey’s Wagoneer.

Their absence made the marina feel more desolate than it was normally. Gabe wasn’t made for desolate—he could admit that without losing his man-card. He liked being around people; this whole hiding out from the Colavito family thing was cramping his style.

You have no idea, Chance. Why do you think we moved states and not just towns?

More than once, Heidi had complained that Gabe made friends wherever they landed—even in the middle of the desert, where no other children lived. It was a superpower.

Hanging the bag with the ice cream, notebook, and pen on one arm, he dug into his coat pocket with his other hand for the gate key.

Even though he’d only been across the street for a short time, he’d made sure to lock everything up.

Gabe wasn’t going to be responsible for, say, someone dumping a dead body on one of the boats while he was gone.

The gate opened with a raspy squeak, and Gabe angled his body so he could squeeze through the gap. No reason to open the thing all the way when it screeched like the back gate to hell. Someone needed to oil the hinges, which probably meant Gabriel should step the fuck up.

Before he could push the door shut again, something small, fuzzy, and wet streaked past his feet and shot down the dock.

“What the fuck?”

Whatever it was, it darted past the Shangri-La and the fluttering crime scene tape looped around it. Pausing for a second, the critter seemed to look back over its shoulder and stare directly at Gabe. Then it scurried across the pier, leaped onto the Ticket , and disappeared from view.

“Seriously, what the fuck ?” Was he going to have to call animal control or whatever passed for that out here to evict a stray cat? What was a cat doing out in this weather anyway? At least, it sort of resembled a cat. He hoped to fuck it wasn’t a raccoon.

Making sure the fence was closed and locked behind him, Gabe hurried down to the Ticket and climbed aboard.

The boat rocked under his weight, and he half expected the cat to panic and abandon ship, but the creature seemed to have found a place to hide.

He glanced around but couldn’t see anything in the dark, not even glowing eyes.

With a sigh, he stepped down and opened the cabin door.

There were more pressing things for him to worry about than a stray cat, like melting ice cream and trying to make sense of what was going on around Heartstone.

Maybe Casey knew something about the cat; he seemed like the type to have a soft spot for strays.

Except when it came to Gabriel.

Not everyone who meets you is going to like you, Chance. And you’re not going to like everyone you meet. Sometimes you’ll just have to fake it ’til you make it.

Ugh. He hated when Heidi was right.

Settling on one of the benches at his retractable dining table with the heat turned up again, Gabe snagged a spoon and pried the lid off the ice cream.

He’d already decided he might as well eat it out of the container.

To save on dishes, of course. Setting his dessert to one side to soften up, he flipped open the garish notebook and began making a list.

The Ticket rocked a bit as the wind blew and waves rolled in, the movement almost comforting.

Gabe was starting to get used to the sounds the boat made, so very different from what he was used to.

The creaking of the mast. The way the boat rubbed against the rubber thingies that protected the dock.

Or maybe they protected the boat? It was probably something he should know, but his learning curve had been steep over the last few weeks.

He hadn’t gotten much past writing Peter Vale/Stevens, why? on the first page of the notebook when a vibration or something alerted him that someone was on the pier. Half crouching, half standing, he lifted himself to look out the window behind him, the one that opened out onto the dock.