Chapter 2
Barnaby stepped back while the medivac paramedics loaded the victim onto a gurney.
He’d done his part, along with the young woman who had introduced herself as Sasha, an ER nurse.
They’d kept the victim—who he recognized as one of the cleaning staff—from choking on her own blood.
Since she was clearly going into shock, he’d wrapped his own zippered hoodie around her.
“Her name is Safiya and she works here at the inn,” he told the paramedics. “It looks to me like she ingested something. She’s on the household staff, so it could have been a cleaning product.”
“We got it from here, Mr. Carmichael.”
Barnaby felt his jaw clench. He wasn’t “Mr. Carmichael.” This wasn’t his world. He didn’t usually live at the inn, or on Sea Smoke Island at all. The only reason he was on the island right now was because the family was falling apart and someone needed to hold things down as best they could.
He glanced behind him at the crowd of gawking guests. “Everything’s fine,” he called. “She’s in good hands.”
Could he tell them all to get lost and put down their damn iPhones?
With the Lightkeeper Inn’s clientele, you had to be careful.
They were all top dogs in their own worlds and didn’t take kindly to anyone bossing them around.
Wealthy people could be the biggest pains in the ass.
Since he himself technically was one, he knew it all too well—although he’d been working hard on the pain-in-the-ass part since the age of ten.
“Fresh coffee on the terrace,” he added. “Croissants, wild blueberry jam, you name it.”
Bit by bit, the crowd dispersed, losing interest once the helicopter had lifted into the air.
He’d called for help right away, since he’d seen something similar on a backpacking trek in the Himalayas.
When someone was coughing up blood, especially with traces of white foam, they needed immediate medical attention beyond what the island could provide.
“Good job there,” he told Sasha, who was looking ruefully at the blood on her shirt.
“Thanks. You too. Are you a paramedic?”
“I have EMT training, but no. I’m…well, I’m…”
“He’s the boss around here.”
They both swung around to see Gabby Ramon approaching, along with Heather McPhee, who was currently dating his brother Luke. The podcast crew…fucking awesome, exactly what this moment needed. As if a zillion cell phone videos weren’t enough.
“I’m not the boss,” he clarified, annoyed. “I’m temporarily helping out while—”
“While the rest of his family deals with their legal issues.”
Even though Gabby had nailed the situation, he didn’t have to like it.
He shot her a long dark look that had no apparent effect on her.
Which was surprising, in a way. Barnaby knew he presented an intimidating front, all wild black hair and thick beard that refused to ever disappear completely.
Like his father, he generally loomed over everyone else.
Some women liked his height, but others found it daunting.
Gabby didn’t seem the daunted type. Or the easily impressed type.
“I’d think carefully before you put anything about this incident on your podcast,” he told her. “Safiya deserves her privacy.”
“That was Safiya?” Heather’s expression shifted to one of even more concern.
“I thought it was her,” said Gabby, more subdued now. “We got to know each other when I was staying here before. Don’t worry, we’re not doing a podcast on mysterious illnesses at fancy hotels.”
“Actually, that sounds pretty interesting,” quipped Heather. “We could maybe branch out.”
“Only if Barnaby turns out to be a dirty rotten bastard.” Gabby’s teasing tone made the hairs on his arms rise. Something about her got a reaction out of him no matter what she said.
“He’s not,” said Sasha, kindly coming to his defense. She held her shirt away from her skin. “He’s an excellent first responder, and he was really kind to that woman. She was so scared, and he kept her calm. I’m going to find a bathroom. Does anyone have an extra shirt I can borrow?”
“Ask the front desk,” he told her. “There’s a lost and found with a shocking amount of Prada and Ralph Lauren.”
Sasha’s eyes lit up and she hurried toward the front entrance. She paused to let a truck pass by; Barnaby saw that it was his brother Luke arriving in his Nissan Frontier. The truck pulled onto the grass, to the side of the long curving drive, and Luke climbed out.
“Got a call,” he said laconically. Clearly he was in island constable mode, but even then, he had a relaxed manner that put everyone at ease. That was probably how he’d won the support of the hardworking members of the fishing community, who generally avoided the Carmichael clan at all costs.
He strode across the grass to join them, though of course Heather got his attention first, with a quick embrace and a kiss on the lips.
“The medivac just took off. She should be okay.”
“Safiya Abdi-Osman, right?”
Barnaby nodded, though he’d have to check the staff records to confirm her last name. He knew she’d come from Somalia, as had many of their recent hires.
“The paramedics called and asked me to check into her movements over the past day or so. Get samples of everything she’s worked with, see what meals she’s eaten, that sort of thing.”
Barnaby sighed. As the de facto head of the Lightkeeper Inn—at least for now—he’d have to assist with this project. “Let’s go,” he said, resigned to the rest of his morning being taken up by hotel business. “But just you. No one with a podcast is invited.”
“Look at us, catching strays for no reason,” said Gabby. “We’re just curious onlookers here.”
“Onlookers with a megaphone,” grumbled Barnaby. While he appreciated the purpose of the media, he questioned the execution, generally speaking.
Heather tried to tug Gabby away, but she resisted. “We’ll let you two do your thing, but if anything out of the ordinary comes up—”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Luke promised at the same moment that Barnaby said, “You’ll never know.”
Barnaby glowered at his brother, who had no business promising a scoop, even a nonexistent one, to his girlfriend’s podcast.
“You boys work it out amongst yourselves.” Gabby’s eyes—a very pretty brown—glittered with amusement. “Just know that you won’t find a more accurate and fair news source anywhere else on the eastern seaboard.”
The two women left at that point, though Heather and Luke took the time for one more kiss.
“Things are going well, looks like?” Barnaby asked his brother as they headed for the entrance of the sprawling Queen Anne-style building, with its graceful white columns and patriotic bunting draped from the second-story balcony.
“So far so good. Bit of a rocky start, what with all the kidnappings and such, but now it’s all smooth sailing. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this…just, happy. It’s a little weird. Even Carrie’s happy for us. Izzy adores her.”
“Happy for you, man.”
Luke had gone through a lot with his first marriage—including getting cut off from the Carmichael family and money. If anyone deserved some peace and happiness, it was Luke, who had made a life for himself on the downscale western end of the island as a divorced single dad slash constable.
Barnaby doubted that he’d ever find anything resembling peace or happiness. The restless part of him that needed adventure, that craved other worlds beyond the privileged bubble he’d grown up in, wouldn’t allow it.
As Barnaby had requested via text, Judy Griffin met them in the foyer.
The tall, imposing hotel manager knew more about the inn and its staff than anyone else.
With her sharp blazers and blunt auburn bob, she could intimidate with a glance.
Barnaby still felt the residual terror of being a fifteen-year-old caught smoking weed in an empty room by the fearsome Judy.
“She’ll be okay, won’t she?” Judy asked them, worry etched on her stern face.
“We have no reason to think she won’t. What was Safiya doing when she got sick?”
“As best I can piece together, she was folding laundry. Her shift starts at eight, so she spends the first three hours taking care of laundry and getting the housekeeping carts stocked up before eleven, which is checkout time. She lives on the mainland. Her general routine is to catch the early boat, arrive here around seven, then have breakfast with the kitchen staff.”
“What did she have for breakfast?” Luke was scribbling notes on a pad. Barnaby hid a smile in his beard, proud of his younger brother. Luke had successfully broken away from the Carmichael vortex and was doing his own thing.
“We have the same breakfast buffet set out every day. Oatmeal, bagels, eggs. I don’t know exactly what she ate, but there was nothing different about today.”
“Is there anyone on the staff she was especially close to? Can we talk to them? Also, I’ll need to take some pictures of all the cleaning products she was exposed to.”
“You make them sound toxic. I promise you all the products we use are completely safe.” Judy shot Barnaby a warning glance, as if it was his job to protect the hotel from any hint of suspicion.
Come to think of it, was it? Barnaby was still feeling his way through this situation. If the hotel was responsible for Safiya’s condition, was he supposed to hide that from the world?
“It’s just routine due diligence,” Luke reassured her. “Since she works with those products all the time, it’s unlikely they’re the cause.”
“Unless she suddenly decided to ingest one of them.” Barnaby brought this up because he’d seen something similar in Nepal, when a distraught girl at the hostel had swallowed wood polish.
“What an appalling thought. Why would she do such a thing?” Judy exclaimed.
Even Luke looked startled. “Do you know something we don’t, Barnaby?”
“Just throwing things out there.” Shrugging, he wished he’d kept that thought to himself.
He really wasn’t cut out for the gig, he feared.
Too impatient, not guarded enough. He had to watch what he said, especially with the stakes so high for the hotel, and especially with two podcasters hanging around.
Judy brushed a bit of lint off her blazer. “Well, what do you want first, the supply closet or Safiya’s friends?”
For the next hour, Barnaby shadowed Luke while he interviewed the other staff members and took photos of each product Safiya worked with. He found his attention drifting to Gabby Ramon, for some reason.
Not that there weren’t many reasons to think about her. She was stunning, for one, with her rich brown skin that seemed to reflect the light in an especially beautiful way. She was clearly very intelligent. He could practically see her busy mind at work. Too bad she didn’t seem to like him much.
Of course, he knew why she didn’t. For one thing, he was a Carmichael. For very good reasons, she distrusted his entire family. For another, they’d clashed the first time they’d ever met.
It had taken place in the conservatory the day after everything had fallen apart, and he’d been asked to take charge of the hotel for the time being.