Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
R afe walked into the sheriff’s station that morning holding the largest coffee they offered at the café down the street. But there wasn’t enough caffeine in that whole shop to banish the exhaustion riding him.
At least the ferry back had been running on time. He’d slept in his vehicle for most of the sailing.
Darlene looked up from the front desk, winced. “I’d say good morning, but it looks the opposite.”
“It’s all good. Anything important I need to know before I start wading through my emails?”
“Just a reminder that Earl’s waiting to see you. I told him you were going to be late because you were traveling back, but he said he’d be happy to wait in your office until you got here.”
Oh, hell. With all the things buzzing around in his head right now, he’d forgotten about their delightful weekly Monday morning briefing. As sheriff, he could have put an end to this or passed the task to a deputy.
But Rafe liked Earl, valued his insight, and it had turned out to be far more valuable than Rafe had expected. “Right.”
Sure enough, Earl was in his office, eyes alert, gray beard neatly trimmed. He rose from his chair when he saw Rafe, his polo shirt tucked neatly into his jeans, and of course he wore his ever-present black Marine Corps cap with yellow lettering. “Morning.”
“Morning.” Rafe rounded the desk to sit in his cushioned chair, pushing the lingering fatigue from his brain. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I just got in.”
Earl nodded. “How’s everything going with the Feds?”
“Slow.” Not that he’d expected anything different. But given the importance and magnitude of the investigation about everything that had happened on the island recently, being kept waiting for intel was incredibly frustrating.
“No solid leads yet on who shot Lassiter?”
Darren Lassiter, head of the island’s gun club-slash-unsanctioned militia that everyone seemed to have heard rumors about except for Rafe. Which was awkward, considering he was the new sheriff.
In August, Lassiter had tried to kill Willow and Tripp when they’d stumbled upon hidden caches of ammo in the woods. Big ones. Enough to supply a private army.
Tripp and Earl had managed to perform a citizen’s arrest before Rafe could arrive on scene. But only minutes after Rafe had taken him into custody, a sniper had killed Lassiter in the back of a cruiser.
“Not yet, but all the ‘gun club’ members have been interviewed and released. If Lassiter was connected to anyone, they were off island.” Rafe still had no idea who had pulled that trigger or why. Though he did have some theories, each one disturbing enough to keep him awake at night.
Something dark was at work on the island. Something lurking beneath its rugged beauty that posed a threat to everyone on it.
Rafe was determined to root it out and stop it before it could hurt anyone else.
“You know I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation, Earl.” The Feds weren’t sharing much information on their findings so far. Progress was slow, even with everything he and his team had done to assist with the ongoing investigation.
“Of course, of course. Well, here’s my latest report.”
Earl set a sheet of lined paper on the desk and slid it toward Rafe. He didn’t believe in using digital devices, and preferred using old school methods for their briefings that he insisted had absolutely nothing to do with his age or being tech illiterate.
“By the way, the number of moving trucks I mentioned to you back before all of that started has dropped drastically in the past few weeks,” Earl added. “If they were involved with transporting the ammo before, I think they’ve stopped now.”
Rafe didn’t say anything. When he’d first taken office, he’d thought Earl was just an annoying, overzealous conspiracy theorist bent on shoving his nose in police business here on the island and generally making a nuisance of himself.
Or an old-timer trying to remain relevant. Now he thought differently.
Earl cared about the island, and the people living here. If not for him showing up and incapacitating Lassiter with a taser, Willow and Tripp might well have both been killed in that forest before Rafe had arrived.
Earl had also served multiple combat tours. He had good situational awareness and noticed things others didn’t. So while he tended to be overly suspicious and believed in conspiracy theories, he was still a valuable source of intel, in addition to being a concerned citizen.
Rafe listened attentively as Earl went through the weekly report he prepared by hand.
“That’s about it,” Earl finished two minutes later. “Shorter than usual, I know. Been a quiet week.”
“Gotta tell you, I find that incredibly refreshing,” Rafe said, and Earl chuckled. “I’ll add this to our file.”
Earl nodded. “As always, I’ll let you know if anything important comes up before next week. Result of the vote last night was a shock, huh?”
He was still surprised that they’d approved the development. He hadn’t spoken to Blaine yet, but knew Xanthe had to be pissed. There’d been several dozen protesters already outside City Hall on the way to work.
“Yeah.” He’d had a couple of deputies there to make sure everyone behaved themselves, but there hadn’t been a problem.
From what he’d heard, his buddy Blaine Slater and the development group had faced an uphill battle trying to get the resort proposal passed. Islanders were notoriously anti-development and resented outsiders coming in and trying to change things.
“It’s a shame.” Earl stood. “Well. See you around, Sheriff.”
“Bye, Earl.” He drank half his lukewarm coffee, then started on his emails. Winced at the eye-watering number that had come in since Friday afternoon when he’d left for the mainland.
At a tap on his partly-open door, he looked up as Darlene poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb, but everyone else is out at the moment. I’ve got a woman here with her little one. They found some bones on the beach.”
More bones. He hadn’t heard back about the last ones yet. “What kind of bones?”
“I’m not sure. Can you see her?”
“Sure, send her in.”
A young mother came in holding her toddler with one hand, and a plastic dog poop bag in the other. She explained they’d been walking on the beach, and her son had found the bones lying in some seaweed.
Unease spread through his gut. The spot she described was close to Shipwreck Cove, where Willow’s dog had found two pieces of a human leg bone back in August.
“They look like pieces of backbone to me,” she said, untying the knot in the poop bag and placing the three segments on Rafe’s desk. “Do you think they’re human?”
He wasn’t sure. But he knew someone who would be, and he’d been looking for an excuse to contact her for a while now.
As soon as the woman and her son left, he called Willow’s friend. “Bronwyn?”
“Yes.”
“This is Sheriff Rafe Torres from Skeleton Island.”
“Hey, good to hear from you.”
It was good to hear her voice. “Have you got a minute? I just had someone come in with a few bones they found on the beach and wondered if you could tell me whether they’re human or not.”
“Ooh, I’ll make time for that. Can I see them?”
“I’m sending you pictures now.”
“Can we do a video call instead? That’d be easier.”
“Sure. Give me a few seconds. I’ll call you back.” He hung up and started a video call.
Her face came into view a few seconds later, even prettier than he remembered. Sea-green eyes, a small silver hoop in the side of her nose. Her bleach-blond hair was dark at the roots and faded into thick, bleach-blond twists that fell past her shoulders.
“That’s better,” she said with a smile that brightened his day significantly. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Don’t stare like a weirdo. “So, here’s what we’re looking at.” He picked up the segments and laid them out across his open palm so the camera could get the best view. “I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure they’re vertebrae.”
She laughed softly. “Yes, gold star sticker for you. Can you hold one up facing the camera so I can see the body better? The round part.”
He picked one up and held it so it was sideways to the camera, then turned it slowly so she could get a good look from all angles. “The others are the same.”
“Okay, I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“I would love some good news.”
“They’re definitely not human.”
“No? Well, that is good news.” Hey, today was looking up.
“I’ll bet. But no, the bodies are too round. The TVPs are the wrong shape, and the spinous processes are too long.”
He had no idea what those things were, but it fascinated him that she could give him those kinds of details. “And the bad news? It’s okay. I can take it.”
She laughed softly. “The bad news is, I’m not sure what species they are.” She narrowed her eyes a moment. “I’m thinking possibly cetacean. Small whale or maybe a dolphin, but don’t quote me on that.”
“Well that’s not bad news at all, because I just happen to know a cetacean expert here on the island. I’ll give her a call. Thanks for this.”
“Of course, anytime. I’m happy to help.”
He found himself stalling for a way to prolong their conversation. “Where are you, by the way?”
“Still in Vancouver doing research, but I’m heading back to the UK soon. I got accepted for a dig with Operation Nightingale.”
Her excited smile had him smiling back. “I don’t know what that is, but you seem happy about it.”
“It’s this amazing program set up by the UK Ministry of Defense.
Basically, they use archaeological field work to help wounded, disabled, or sick active military personnel and veterans.
They do incredible work, and the program has proven effective for helping treat PTSD.
I can send you some recent scientific literature on it.
The dig’s going to be in the Cotswolds, so I’m pumped because there’s a lot of Roman history in that region, and I’ve never been there before. ”
“That does sound great.”
“I know, right? I can’t wait. Just have to finish up what I’m working on at the moment before I go.”
“Think you’ll have time to squeeze in a visit here before you head back overseas?”
“Maybe. I’m thinking of throwing Willow a surprise wedding shower. Low key, otherwise she’d hate me forever.”
“Hopefully I’ll see you while you’re here.”
“I’d like that. Want me to send you that literature I mentioned? It’s fascinating.”
“I bet, but I’m up to my ears in work right now. Maybe you could tell me about it when you visit, if you have time.”
Her eyes twinkled. “I’ll make time for you, Sheriff. Even if it doesn’t involve bones.”
Was she flirting? “That’s nice to hear. Hope to see you sooner rather than later,” he said with a smile, and reluctantly ended the call.
He’d thought about her on and off since meeting her.
More than he should have, probably. He’d been single so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel that spark with someone.
He looked at the vertebrae on his desk, relieved they weren’t human so he wouldn’t have to do anything further. But just to wrap things up, he’d call Xanthe to see if she could give him an official ID.