Page 5 of Light of Day (Sea Smoke Island #1)

As they hurried down the curving staircase that led to the ground floor, Luke handed Heather the piece of envelope he’d found in Gabby’s trash. Even though she’d torn it into pieces, he’d been able to find the three bits with the return address.

Maybe it was a stretch to assume that she’d come because of a letter from Simms. But it made as much sense as anything else.

“Denton Simms,” Heather exclaimed. “That’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“Well, we ran into him when we were here before.”

“In March?”

“Yes. He was loading traps onto his boat. He dropped one of them between the boat and the dock, and we helped him fish it out. I don’t think he said anything in particular to Gabby, other than ‘thanks.’”

Denton Simms was one of the oldest active lobstermen on the island. No one could understand why he didn’t retire and spend more time in Florida like the rest of his cohort. But Denton claimed he wanted to die on the ocean, doing what he loved best.

As they hurried through the hotel’s spacious foyer, with the reception desk center stage, a sunny lounge known as “the conservatory” to the right, a full bar and restaurant to the left, Luke heard someone call his name. Or rather, his nickname.

“Lukie! I can’t believe you’re here!”

He stopped and turned, just in time to catch the headlong flight of his sister into his arms. Fiona was two years older than him, but you’d never know it.

Her skin looked like that of a twenty-year-old, and her eyes were masked by large gold-rimmed sunglasses.

Fiona liked to hide behind her fashion and her flow of conversation, but he knew there was plenty of heartache under that carefree facade.

“Hi, Fiona. Official business, don’t worry.”

Her mouth turned down. “Are you here to arrest someone? I sure hope it’s not me. I only have three joints in my bag, and?—”

He held up his hand to stop her before she confessed to anything really bad. “No arrests. We’re just looking for a guest who’s missing.”

“Oh.” She looked over at Heather, then cocked her head. “I know you. Heather McPhee, right?”

Heather blinked in surprise. Luke bit back a laugh at her stunned expression. His sister Fiona didn’t miss much. Anyone who assumed she was nothing but flighty and spoiled would be in for a surprise.

Well, she was certainly spoiled, he wouldn’t deny that part. Her gauzy halter top dress and the gold puffer jacket she wore over it, could both testify to that. He didn’t even want to think about what her boots must have cost.

“Whatever you’ve heard, probably only about half of it is true,” said Heather, making Fiona laugh.

“I remember when you got that job at Boiling Point . It’s my favorite drinking game show. Take a shot whenever anyone pounds the table.” His sister’s lips curved in a merry smile. “I’m Fiona Carmichael, this guy’s older hag sister.”

“And shameless fisher for compliments,” Luke added. “Feel free to ignore.”

She struck a tragic pose. “But my self-esteem needs constant support. It’s practically a disability. I should really have a placard that requires people to praise me.”

“That’s not a thing.” Luke caught Heather’s eye, signaling that they should continue onwards, but Heather ignored him. Maybe she thought Fiona would have relevant information about Gabby.

“It’s nice to meet you, Fiona. How long have you been back?”

“Oh, a week or so. Urgent call from the lord of the manor.”

Luke’s interest sharpened. “Dad asked you to come?”

“I know it’s a shocker, but yes. I’m supposed to be in Italy with my friend Kayla, now we’re stuck here instead.

” She waved a hand toward the conservatory, at a tall redhead sipping on a cocktail, who gave them a jaunty salute.

“We’re all gathering, except Rufus and Ruby.

They have finals.” She leaned closer to both of them, bringing the scent of jasmine with her—a fragrance he associated with warm climates, not Maine.

“I think he’s worried about that potential buyer.

He wants me to check him out. He considers me his personal social media guru, and since Tatum is a YouTuber, in Dad’s mind that puts him in my sphere of influence. ”

“Tatum?” Heather’s eyes widened. “Tatum DeBatum? We tried to get him on the show.”

Luke looked from his sister to Heather in complete confusion. “Sorry, is that an actual person?”

Fiona rolled her eyes, then caught sight of something across the foyer. “Heather, you’d better explain it to him on your way out of here, unless you want to get trapped in the middle of a family scene. Daddy’s here.”

Luke glanced behind him to see his father stop at the concierge desk, towering over it as he did with most things.

With his big barrel chest and heavy limp—he’d crushed his femur during a sailing accident—his father had the look of a weathered oceangoing adventurer.

Up until the crash, he’d been a top contender in competitive yachting, even racing in the America’s Cup.

Trust his father to pick one of the most expensive sports on the planet.

“Before we go, do you mind if I ask if you’ve seen my friend?” said Heather quickly. “She was staying here and she’s gone missing. She’s Black, taller than both of us, often to be seen with her laptop.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry,” Fiona said vaguely, gesturing once again for them to leave. “But I’ve been in and out and I only pay attention to the flirt-worthy men. Shoo, now.”

They gave Fiona a quick goodbye and left through the French doors that opened onto the bluestone terrace. He led her to the stairway, situated between two terracotta planters filled with trailing roses.

Once they were back inside his truck, he turned to Heather, bracing for some kind of judgement about his fucked-up family.

Instead, she patted his arm sympathetically. “I guess growing up in the lap of luxury doesn’t insulate you from family drama, huh?”

“Why would it?” He started the truck. “It might make it worse, adding lots of money to the mix. Should we go see Denton Simms?”

“He’s probably out on the water right now.”

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it. “My mom. She’s back. I need to check in with her.”

“I’ll drop you back home, and see if I can get ahold of Denton in the meantime.”

He steered the truck down the long curving road back to sea level.

The farther they got from the hotel, the more his tension eased.

John Carmichael was a stubborn bastard, and he was a master at holding a grudge.

After Luke had gotten involved with Carrie, his father had threatened to take away his trust fund if he didn’t dump her.

Luke had told him to go ahead. With or without Carrie, he didn’t want to be controlled by his father’s money.

What bothered Luke much more was that he showed no interest in Izzy, his own granddaughter.

But he couldn’t let himself get distracted from this case. A woman was missing. That was the most important thing right now.

“Will you be around later, around low tide?” he asked Heather, who seemed lost in thought as she watched the Lightkeeper Inn grounds slide past. “I want to search the shoreline, and another set of eyes would be helpful.”

“Absolutely. And let me know if you manage to find Denton. How well do you know him?”

That seemed like an odd question. “I’ve crossed paths him with here and there.”

“I might have better luck talking to him.” When he glanced her way in surprise, she gave him a wry smile. “Benefit of being a west-ender. My father was one of the few deckhands Denton never fired.”

She had a point, he thought ruefully. No matter how long he’d lived on the west end of the island, even after marrying a local, even after getting banished from the Lightkeeper grounds, some folks would never see him as one of them.

If there was one thing islanders knew how to do, it was close ranks and keep a secret.