Page 29 of Smuggler’s Cove (Twin Lights #1)

Madison remained calm, while her inner voice was screaming.

She’d spent half her existence dodging drama and building a new life.

She did not ask for any of this: from her father’s financial crime spree, to a decrepit marina, to a dead body.

Why? Why? Why? Had she not paid her dues?

Had she not fought back well enough so she would no longer have to fight?

They say there is a reason for everything.

Now, Madison thought she must have been a horrible person in a previous life.

Burton could see the concern on her face.

“Ms. Wainwright, I realize this has been very disruptive and unexpected. We will get to the bottom of it. All I ask is that you be patient, and of course, cooperate.” Burton’s impression of the siblings was that they were well-educated, polite, and sincere.

He had them checked out after he phoned them the night before.

He called his go-to private investigator, Ross Licitra, who gave him the skinny on them.

She was a successful editor; he, a well-respected professor.

Burton also knew their lineage and how they’d fended for themselves after their father’s arrest and conviction.

At least they did not seem spoiled and entitled, another thing he was often surrounded by.

He didn’t know which was worse—old money or new money.

“Detective, you can be certain we will do whatever we can to assist you,” Lincoln assured him.

“We appreciate it.”

They could hear voices in the background, coming from Sidney’s side of the call. “We have a photo of a young man. Signed in as Josh Hanover.”

Burton looked at Madison and Lincoln. “Ring a bell?”

Madison shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell for me,” said Lincoln.

Burton typed something into his tablet. A few seconds passed. “Josh Hanover. Eighteen. Lives nearby.” He typed something into his cell phone.

“Do you think Uncle Kirby gave him the envelope and asked him to bring it to New York?”

“It’s possible,” Burton answered. “I’m sending an officer over to his house now.”

Things were becoming more mystifying as the minutes passed. “This is all so very strange,” Madison ruminated. “Sidney? Uncle Kirby died of a heart attack, correct?”

“Yes. Why?”

“The timing of everything. I wonder when he gave this fellow the package.”

“Good point,” Sidney agreed. “The will was dated June of last year.”

“But he could have given the package to Hanover at any time and said to deliver it when he passed away,” Lincoln added.

“Let’s see if young Mr. Hanover can enlighten us.” Burton looked down at his phone. It was one of the officers. Hanover was out on a tuna boat. He let out a huff of air. “However, we are going to have to wait for him to return from the tuna trip.”

Madison was now sitting on the edge of her seat. “What time will he be back?”

The detective gave her a wry smile. He knew she was not going to like the answer. “Fifteen to twenty days.”

“Fifteen? Twenty? Days? Can’t you send the Coast Guard to fetch him?” Madison’s eyes were bugging out.

Burton laughed. “No. He is not under arrest. At least not yet.”

“Well, if he is a suspect, shouldn’t you go and get him?” Madison was trying to keep her voice at a normal octave.

Burton laughed again. “Ms. Wainwright, please. You are going to have to be patient. We do not know if a crime has been committed. Not yet, anyway.” Burton wrote down a few more notes. “When you went to the dock yesterday, did you notice anything out of order?”

Madison burst out laughing. “Sorry. I had never set foot on the property before yesterday, and if you saw the inside, you would not be able to tell if it had been ransacked or not.” Madison regrouped.

“There were maps, and papers.” She omitted the stinky part.

“Not that I asked, but if something were amiss, I would think Hannah would have mentioned it. But I will be happy to ask her.”

“That’s alright. We’ll be going over to the area in about an hour for some follow-up questions. I can ask her myself. But thank you.” Burton scribbled another note.

Madison was bouncing her knee up and down under the table. Olivia placed her hand on Madison’s thigh, hoping to reduce the possibility of levitation. Madison sat straight. She took a deep breath. “I guess we are going to have to see how things unfold.”

Lincoln suppressed a grin. He knew his sister was about to hit the ceiling, figuratively and literally.

“I’m afraid so, Ms. Wainwright. It’s going to take some time. But we will keep you up to date on our progress.”

“Thank you,” Lincoln said, nodding.

“Yes. Thank you,” Madison added.

Olivia knew her work was cut out for her.

Madison would be moving full bore trying to settle this.

Olivia would have to keep her friend on an even keel.

For everyone’s own good. When Madison got something stuck in her craw, you had to either follow or get out of the way.

Madison was not one to wait for people to get things done.

“I have something I want to give to Hannah,” she said to Burton. “Would it be alright if we go over to the dock?”

“As long as you don’t go past the crime-scene tape,” he said flatly.

Madison imagined being wrapped up in a roll of it.

“Thanks again for coming in.” They stood, shook hands, and reassured one another they would keep everyone up to date.

When they got back in the car, Lincoln turned to Madison and smiled. “I’m going to have another one of those clam sandwiches.”

Madison shivered.

They returned to the small parking area across from the dock.

People were still gathered, chatting, smoking.

Olivia elbowed Lincoln and nodded at the N O S MOKING sign next to the gas pump.

It was a mystery to see so many people with cigarettes, especially young people.

Then again, no one among the throng seemed to be using sunscreen, either. It was a different world.

The three got out and walked toward Hannah and a small group of people. “Hey! Didn’t think we’d see you back here so soon!” Hannah gave them a wave.

“Me, either,” Madison answered, gritting her teeth.

Then she reminded herself that Hannah was a nice person and did not deserve a chill from her.

Madison pulled on a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to launder your clothes, so I got you these.

” She handed the confused woman the bag. “As a thank-you.”

“For me?” Hannah gingerly took the bag and peeked inside. “For real?”

Madison’s face went soft. “Yes. For you. You were truly kind, and I was kind of a—well, you know.” Madison hesitated to use foul language. At least with people she didn’t know.

“Aw, shucks. You didn’t have to do this.

” Hannah peered deeper into the bag and pulled out an incredibly soft, red and black, buffalo-plaid flannel shirt.

“Ooh. But I’m glad you did. I was just telling Charlie I needed to go to the Tractor Store and get some new things.

You saved me the time.” She plucked out the second shirt, which was a green plaid.

“I thought it matched your food truck.” Madison grinned. Always the fashionista.

“Well, it sure does.” Hannah held it up to her chest. “Charlie. Look.” Charlie ambled over to where the women were standing.

“Ms. Madison brought these for me. Wasn’t that nice of her? A thank-you present.”

When the crew from New York first arrived, Charlie didn’t think much of the tall, white-clad woman in high heels.

“Who goes to a fishing dock in high heels ? ” he’d said gruffly after they left.

Hannah tried to defend the hapless city woman. “She didn’t know what this place was. I could tell.”

“Whatever,” he said, and shrugged.

But in the new day’s light, he saw that he may have jumped the gun with his opinion. Hannah had a point. Plus, now they had a dead body and all.

“Yep. Nice of her.” He nodded.

“And look! New cargo pants!” Her excitement for something so simple was touching. “Madison, you are one classy lady.” She stuffed the clothes back into the shopping bag. “Come on. Clam sandwiches. On the house!”

Madison’s eyeballs rolled back in her head. This was going to be a lot tougher than she imagined.

Several people were hanging around the front of the food truck. “ ’bout time, Hannah,” one of her dining guests teased. “My stomach is making all kinds of noises.”

“So will the rest of your intestines later,” another angler joked.

“Are you saying there is something wrong with my clam rolls?” Hannah slapped her towel at him.

“It’s not your clam rolls. It’s his belly roll.” People chuckled. Apparently busting chops was a normal occurrence around those parts.

Hannah hoisted herself into the truck. “Come on, Charlie. Hop to it.”

There was a small picnic table nearby, where Olivia, Lincoln, and Madison took a seat.

For some odd reason, Madison felt a sense of relief.

Madison was a go-getter and get ’er done kind of woman, but in spite of what people perceived, she also knew when it was time to let things go.

Everyone was doing what they had to do. The challenge now was being patient, a skill she was still trying to perfect at her age.