Chapter 20
“Are you okay?” Morgan turned to face Tristan, noticing how he gripped his backpack tightly, his happy-go-lucky smile nowhere to be found, and her heart pinched. This was it…the real test of what the future might hold for the youngest Easton…his first day of school.
“Yeah. I like my teacher, Ms. Blanchard. She told me and Uncle Jeff that the other kids in my class are nice and I’ll make friends.”
“But it’s tough being the new kid,” she said softly.
“I’m only the new kid for today.”
“An excellent point. I know you’ve probably heard this before, but remember to just be yourself, and I’m certain making friends will come easily.”
Tristan reached for the door handle. “Who is going to pick me up?”
“Brett had to travel to Toronto. He’ll be back later this afternoon, so it’s gonna be me.” Morgan promised him she would be waiting at the curb as soon as class was dismissed. She wished him luck and watched him climb out of the passenger seat.
He crossed over in front of her vehicle, adjusting the straps on his backpack as he shuffled toward the building. “Please, God. Let Tristan have a good first day and make friends,” she whispered.
As soon as he disappeared inside, Morgan drove straight to Locke Pointe. Between worrying about Tristan’s first day and wondering how Hailey and Greg were doing, not to mention wondering if Jax would finally get an update about Jason’s whereabouts, it had been a restless night.
First things first, she parked and made a beeline for the Lilac Inn. Unfortunately, Grace had left to run errands. Backtracking, she returned to Locke Pointe to track Greg down.
She found him in the carriage house sanding the armrests of her Adirondack chairs. The acrid smell of solvent filled the room. “Good morning, Greg.”
He stopped what he was doing and gave her a friendly wave. “Morning. I figured I would refinish the firepit’s chairs, seeing how I have some extra time on my hands.”
Morgan pinched the end of her nose. “The solvent smell is pretty strong. You might want to turn a fan on.”
“Is it?” Greg reached behind him and flipped the switch on the floor fan. “I have a little more sanding to do on this last one, and then I’ll start painting. Red, white and blue, right?”
“You got it. I figured patriotic American colors in honor of my Michigander side of the family would be fitting.” Morgan perched on top of an overturned bucket. “How is Hailey?”
“Freaked out. She thinks Grady is gonna arrest her and haul her off to jail.”
“Why would he do that?”
Greg rocked back on his heels. “Because of the dead guy Hailey found at the hotel where she used to work.”
“Did she tell you what happened?”
“Yes, ma’am. She was cleaning her assigned rooms. When she got to the guy’s room, she knocked on the door. No one answered, so she let herself in.”
“And found him?” Morgan prompted.
“In his bed.” Greg told her she knew right away the man was dead. “She didn’t touch anything and went right to the front desk to tell the manager.”
“Did she notice anything odd about him before she found him in his room?”
“She said he didn’t want it cleaned.”
“Which might not be unusual depending on how long he was staying.” During brief hotel stays, Morgan always made a point of skipping the disruption of having the housekeepers come in.
Instead, she would track them down in the hallway, asking for supplies when needed.
“I’m not sure why you think Grady plans to arrest her if she’s innocent. ”
“Cuz of the kinds of questions he was asking her. He also told her an investigator is involved.”
“I’m sure it will all work out. As far as what happened the other day, Grady let you go but you need to keep your cool and stay out of it.”
“I know, and I will,” he promised.
Morgan made small talk and excused herself. “I’ll be inside if you need me.”
While she worked at her desk, she mulled over what Greg had confided. Despite his insistence that his girlfriend was innocent, an inkling of doubt settled in.
The woman had traveled to the mainland and basically went MIA while there. Did she know more about the man’s death than she was letting on? Why would she be carrying a knife around in her pocket while she was working?
Maybe stumbling upon a dead body had triggered some sort of mental trauma. Hailey was on edge, thinking she would find another body. She hoped not. For Greg’s sake, Morgan hoped the woman was innocent.
The hours flew by, and before she knew it, it was time to pick Tristan up from school. She called Chester, who was snoozing under her desk. “Let’s go get Tristan.”
The pup’s ears went back.
“Do you want to go for a ride?”
He scrambled to his feet and scampered to the door.
“That’s what I thought.” On her way out, Morgan swung by the kitchen to let Tina know she was leaving.
Light snow had fallen, so she gave her windshield and side windows a quick swipe with the snow brush before hopping into her SUV and driving to the other side of the island.
She reached the school with minutes to spare and parked at the end of the long line of vehicles, other parents waiting to pick their children up. At three on the dot, students trickled out of the building.
Two…three…four plus more kids traipsed along the sidewalk.
Finally, Tristan appeared.
Chester, with his furry small face pressed against the glass, yipped excitedly when he spotted the boy. He gave a quick wave and picked up the pace.
Easing the back door open, he dropped his backpack on the floor before climbing in the front seat with Chester.
“Well?” Morgan asked as soon as Tristan was settled. “How did it go?”
“Okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you sit with anyone at lunch?”
“Mmm. Hmm.”
“Students in your class?”
Tristan nodded.
Morgan let out an exaggerated sigh. “This is like pulling teeth. Did you like it enough to want to go back tomorrow?”
“Yeah. The kids were nice, but I think it was only because Ms. Blanchard made one of the other boys buddy up with me to show me around.”
“So, you don’t think your super-sunny personality helped?”
“They asked me about Las Vegas and wanted to know where I lived now,” Tristan said.
“What did you tell them?”
“I live at Easton Estate, and they wanted to know what it was like.”
“Living in the house?” Morgan asked.
“Yep. I told them it was cool. I got to ride snowmobiles and go fishing for the first time.” Tristan started to say something and stopped.
“What were you going to say?”
He wiggled in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “I heard a couple of the girls who were sitting behind me in class whispering about the Eastons, saying they were snooty.”
“Grandmother might be a little old-fashioned and formal, but I would never call her snooty.” Morgan cast him a sideways glance. “Do you think we’re snooty?”
“No. Maybe they don’t know you.”
“I would say not. Having you attend school here might be a good thing. You can help improve the Easton family’s tarnished image,” she joked. “Let islanders know we aren’t bad people. What about after-school activities? Did you see anything that sounded fun?”
Tristan brightened. “They have an archery club. I’ve never shot an arrow.” His excitement didn’t last long. “It’s after school, and someone would have to pick me up.”
“I’m sure this wouldn’t be a problem. Brett, me, Ben Baker. There will always be someone who can give you a ride,” Morgan said.
“I never got to do after-school stuff because Mom never had time to come and get me.”
“Whatever club you decide to join, we’ll work it out,” she promised.
“I’ll sign up tomorrow. If I don’t like it, I can always quit.”
“Don’t go into it with a quitting attitude,” she lectured. “I’m sure it will take some practice to get the hang of shooting straight.”
Tristan tugged on his coat sleeve. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Fire away.”
“Why doesn’t Quinn like me?”
Morgan studied his face. “What makes you think she doesn’t like you?”
“Because Brett and I are doing stuff together.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Morgan paused, choosing her words carefully. “Quinn likes you, but she doesn’t know you. Maybe we need to invite her to hang out more.”
During the rest of the ride home, Tristan shared tidbits about his day, and as he talked it became increasingly clear Brett’s son would have a few bumps along the way. She hoped it wouldn’t last long and that he would transition smoothly.
The only dark clouds on the horizon had already been whispered behind Tristan’s back. The Easton family’s name. And Quinn’s attitude. Morgan had picked up on it. So had her nephew. Unless things changed, some larger issues would need to be resolved—for Brett, Quinn and Tristan.