Page 14 of Light of Day (Sea Smoke Island #1)

The shocking news of Denton Simms’ drowning rocketed around the island in record time.

By the time Heather dropped into the Bloodshot Eyeball to bring her mother a case of milk from the store, all the customers were buzzing with speculation.

She caught snippets of their comments as she transferred the cartons into the refrigerator.

“Denton was a good swimmer. Didn’t he compete in high school?”

“Maybe he was drunk.”

“No, he quit, remember?”

“Could have fallen off the wagon. He was a binge drinker. Remember the time he disappeared for two weeks ’cause he was so pickled?”

“Did he fall off his boat?”

“Wouldn’t have ended up northeast if he had.”

“Maybe he couldn’t take it anymore without Shannon around. He really loved her.”

“Poor Denton. Won’t be the same without him.”

“You eavesdropping on my customers?” Heather startled as her mother stepped into the kitchen. She wore a black apron over her denim shorts. Sally dressed like someone even younger than Heather. Next to her, Heather often felt like a boring older sister or maybe an aunt.

“Yes,” she said simply. “What am I supposed to do, cover my ears?”

Sally sighed and leaned one hip against the kitchen counter. “Thanks for bringing me the milk. How are you doing? I heard you were there when they found him.”

“It was horrible. I thought it was going to be Gabby. And then when Luke said it was Denton...I just can’t believe he’s gone. I remember going on his boat back when Dad worked with him.”

Sally squeezed her shoulder in comfort. “He was a real one.”

“Yes, he was.” Heather liked that description. They were both silent for a moment, thinking of Denton. “We still don’t know where Gabby is, so…I guess I’m not okay. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course, honey. Jeez, just because we disagree on some things doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you. Gabby too. What’s next? I mean, with looking for her?”

“I don’t know.” Heather heard the hint of despair in her voice, and cleared her throat.

She put the last carton of milk in the fridge and closed the door.

“Luke is dealing with Denton’s case now.

He’s with the doctor, they’re examining the body.

He probably won’t be free until later. I was thinking I might… ”

“Might what?”

“Search Denton’s house,” she admitted.

“Oh honey. That sounds like a very bad idea. Right up your alley.” Sally winked at her.

“Very funny.” Heather made a face at her mother, although the truth was, it felt good to be teased like that. Like normal, as if Gabby wasn’t missing, and everything wasn’t a nightmare.

“What do you think you’ll find there? What does old Denton have to do with Gabby?”

“I think Denton mailed some tapes to her. She wanted to follow up for our podcast.”

“ Dirty Rotten Bastards ? Best title ever, by the way.”

“Thanks. That was my idea, but everything else…” Her throat closed up as she thought about how much Gabby had put into the podcast, and how little she had.

Another idea occurred to her. “Maybe I should go to the Lightkeeper Inn and talk to the staff there. Do you know any of them?”

“Stay away from Judy, the manager. She’s a gargoyle.” Sally reflected for a moment, tapping her order pen against her bottom lip. “Heidi Ochoa, Lydia’s kid, is working out there. You could try her. Tell her I sent you. She owes me for about three months’ worth of mochas.”

“Thanks, Mom.” On impulse, Heather hugged her mother, who froze for a moment in surprise before hugging her back. Their family had never been big on physical demonstrations of affection.

She set off on her bike, knowing that most likely someone would stop and offer her a ride. Sure enough, Tom Nelson, the gregarious mop-topped carpenter who had fixed her mom’s roof last winter, cruised to a stop next to her about a mile down the road.

With her bike stowed in the back of his truck, they drove to the hotel, chatting—of course—about poor Denton Simms.

“People are saying something’s fishy about the whole thing. I don’t think for a second he would have offed himself. Denton was pretty religious.”

“You never know what’s really going on with people,” Heather pointed out.

“But suicide? Why? More likely to be murder, in my book.”

“ Murder? ” Not even the customers at the Bloodshot Eyeball had suggested that. “Who would murder him? Did he have enemies? He barely fished anymore, did he?”

“He had that feud with the Prevosts. TUs Mainers can hold a grudge.”

“I don’t know.” Heather pulled a dubious face. “I know the lobster wars can get serious, but no one’s ever been murdered because of them.”

“Maybe it wasn’t that.” Tom lifted a hand off the wheel to wave at a truck passing the other way. “But if I was the police here, I’d be looking into murder. You know I worked on Jimmy’s chimney a few weeks ago. I heard him and Denton go at each other hardcore.”

“They were fighting?” Jimmy hadn’t mentioned anything like that yesterday. Maybe it was completely irrelevant, or maybe not.

“Oh yah. I might have heard a punch, but I’m not sure who hit who. By the time I climbed off the ladder, Denton was gone.”

“What were they fighting about?”

“I really couldn’t tell. It sounded like one of them was about to bust out a secret, and the other didn’t want him to. Their voices always sounded the same to me, so don’t ask me which was which.”

If Denton wanted to reveal this “secret,” whatever it was, and Jimmy didn’t—would that be enough to commit murder over? Murder of a brother ? Heather found that hard to believe, unless the secret was something truly terrible and life-altering, and she couldn’t imagine what that would be.

A brisk wind made the Lightkeeper Inn’s flags do a lively dance at the top of the flagpoles.

None of them were lowered in honor of the dead body a guest had found.

Should they be? Heather had no idea, but something about the stately building’s obliviousness felt disrespectful.

Guests lounged in the Adirondack chairs clustered around propane heaters on the front terrace.

Staffers in golf carts drove here and there across the property.

It was business as usual here in the land of the languid.

Whatever. Why should anyone in this privileged world care about an elderly drowning victim they didn’t even know?

Tom dropped her off at the service entrance at the back of the hotel. “You can find Heidi at the front desk, but I can’t drop you off there. All trucks have to come back here.”

“No worries. Thanks for the ride.” She unloaded her bike and propped it against the back wall of the hotel, next to a hose bib. Next chance she had, she was going to squirt WD-40 all over her kickstand and see if she could free it up.

Not that she was staying. God no. But she needed wheels while she was here looking for Gabby.

She found Heidi Ochoa tapping on a keyboard at the front desk. With her dark hair swept up into a tight ballerina bun, and large tortoiseshell-framed glasses perched on her nose, she was nearly unrecognizable as the little girl she used to babysit.

“Heather McPhee? What are you doing here?” As a greeting, it lacked warmth. But what could Heather expect, as someone who’d left and rarely looked back? “I don’t see a reservation for you.”

“My mom sent me. I’m looking for a friend who was staying here.”

Heidi didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “A friend of yours?”

“I know, it seems impossible that I would know someone with that kind of money. But yes, a friend of mine. Gabby Ramon. She’s missing.” All of the hotel staff must know that by now. “I’m a close friend of hers and I’m hoping I can help find her.”

“You’ll have to talk to someone else. I don’t know anything.” Heidi angled her body away from Heather’s in an obvious “get out of my face” move.

“Are you sure? You must have seen her coming and going. Don’t you work here full-time?”

A minuscule shrug was her only answer. Heidi fixed her gaze on the computer as if Chris Hemsworth was waving to her from the screen.

But Heather wasn’t one to give up; she was just getting started.

Someone she used to babysit was absolutely not going to get the best of her.

She lowered her voice. “I’m sure you guys don’t want word getting out that a guest is missing.

That, on top of another guest finding a dead body…

I don’t know, that sounds bad for business to me. ”

Heidi’s lips tightened. “I said, I don’t know anything. All I do is check people in and answer the phone.”

“So you don’t notice people in the lobby?”

“The foyer,” Heidi corrected. “We’re supposed to call it the foyer.”

“Excuse me, the foyer. Did Gabby ever ask you for directions to anywhere? Maybe for help renting a kayak or a scooter or a tennis racket or whatever these people get up to here?” Her patience was running thin.

she dragged in a long breath to get a grip on herself.

Maybe she should use her “Messy McPhee” reputation to her advantage.

“You don’t want me to make a scene, do you?

You know I can do it. Did you ever hear about my junior high dance? ”

No one could forget that. Heather had emptied the punch bowl over Ben Parker’s head when she’d caught him kissing another girl. The story had circulated for weeks, even among the younger kids.

“Okay, don’t get all crazy on me. I honestly didn’t see much of Gabby. She didn’t stick around the hotel. I never saw her in the bar or the conservatory or the library.”

“What is this, a game of Clue?”

Heidi’s lips quirked. “I know, right?” she murmured, finally softening. She leaned forward and spoke so only Heather could hear.

“Okay, there was one time that she needed to charge her phone, and all the outlets down here were taken. She didn’t want to run up to her room, so she asked if I could charge it back here. I saw a text come in.”

Now she was getting somewhere. “Who from? What did it say?” When Heidi hesitated, she added urgently, “This could literally be life or death. Trust me, Gabby wouldn’t mind if I knew. She’s my best friend.”

“The weird thing was that it was from John Carmichael, or at least that’s how she labelled the number.”

“John Carmichael…you mean, the owner of this hotel? John Carmichael the Third, that John Carmichael?”

“How should I know? Maybe it was a different one. Anyway, the text said, ‘Glad you’re up for this.’ That’s it. I figured maybe it was something to do with her bill.”

“Would that be normal, for him to get involved in a guest’s bill?”

“No, but…” Heidi shrugged. “Maybe she wasn’t a normal guest.”

Heather stared at her blankly. She couldn’t possibly be referring to the fact that Gabby was Black. Not even in this white-on-white enclave would that be a thing. Would it?

“I mean, because she’s not from one of the families that come here every summer,” Heidi explained, seeing her expression. “Like eighty percent of our guests are repeat visitors. Most of the rooms are booked way in advance, so it’s hard for anyone else to get one.”

“How did she get that room?”

“There must have been a cancellation.”

“Can you find out for sure?” Heather wasn’t sure if that was a wild goose chase or not, but it seemed worth a check.

“I’d have to get back to you about that. It might take a while to go through the records, and it’s not anything I’m supposed to be working on.” She shot a glance at the conservatory, where a woman had just bustled through the door. “Judy’s here. You should go. I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

Judy stopped to chat with an elderly woman being pushed in a wheelchair by her husband.

“Okay. I’m out. Before I go, any other random weird things you can remember?”

Heidi bit her lip, her gaze glued to Judy. That manager must really rule with a strictness, Heather thought. “One thing. She didn’t use her own credit card to pay for the room.”

“Really? Who paid for it?”

“I’d have to look it up.”

But that was all she was going to get from Heidi, as Judy strode swiftly toward the front desk. Heidi returned to her keyboard-tapping with the intensity of someone finishing up a doctoral thesis.