Chapter 3
Trent recognized the shock stamped on Natalie’s face, despite her efforts to hide it. What the hell was going on? Was she seriously that unhappy to see him? Maybe he’d overestimated her interest in him. It had been coffee between strangers. Hardly a relationship.
Except he’d immediately wanted more time with her. Couldn’t go a day without thinking about her. About how to see her again.
Yeah. Not a great restart so far.
“The agency didn’t tell you to expect me?”
“No.” Another distracted smile. “They just booked two weeks.”
“And you don’t ask questions?”
Her laugh sounded more like panic around the edges. “They only give us vague answers anyway.”
She was surely right about that.
His self-confidence was in good shape, but he didn’t normally send women into fits of fidgeting or cause them to go white as a sheet. So what was up with Natalie hustling him inside? He’d caught the tremor in her hands as she sent the mysterious text message.
“Cookie?” she offered.
“Were you expecting someone else? Before my check-in?”
“Hmm? N-no. Not at all.” She inched closer to the cookies on the rack, drawing his attention. “Fresh baked. Obviously.”
“Great.”
Today, Natalie wasn’t anything like the chill, self-composed woman he’d met previously as she’d gleaned the docks for items to incorporate into her artwork. He had another grim flash that maybe she was connected to his assignment.
After months of gathering evidence on the boat thieves, a Coast Guard intercept had gone wrong a few days ago. Trent had been called in to track down two missing suspects who were not the legal owners of the boat they’d been on.
Two suspects had gone overboard after a brief gunfight, including the ringleader of the operation. Another member of the team—deceased—had been found on board. A fourth man had been taken into custody, but he wasn’t giving up much intel.
Which left Trent traveling up and down the East Coast, searching the most likely hiding spots for the escaped suspects. Brookwell Island currently topped the list.
He’d seen a great deal of unpleasantness during his military service and as a private investigator. He knew better than to assume any pretty face was innocent, but man, he did not want to discover Natalie was involved.
Smiling through his doubts, he said, “I didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time or wreck the check-in routine. I’m just so excited to be back on the island. It’s easy to see why everyone raves.”
“Sure. I, um, get that. Brookwell’s the best.” She pressed her lips together as if she wanted to stop talking.
It didn’t work. “And here at the Hideaway, of course. We have a great reputation. Private beach and everything.” She rubbed her hands together.
“Normally, Celeste is the greeter. She’s better at it.
” Her gaze darted around. “I, um, just need to find the tablet to get you checked in.”
“Natalie.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “You can tell me to go.” Her gaze tracked over his tattoos, but he couldn’t tell if it was with approval or wariness. He shouldn’t care either way. Not at all.
“That’s silly. If you’re ready to check-in, I can do that.”
She was so pretty. Absolutely adorable in her flowy dress with the colorful pattern that skimmed her torso, showed off her toned arms and fluttered around long legs. The artist was as whimsical as her artwork. “Great. Am I the only guest?”
“The agency didn’t tell you?”
He shook his head. “We recently changed to a full-house rental system,” she explained. “So, um… There it is!” She spotted the tablet and dashed across the kitchen to retrieve it. “Yes. You’ll be the only guest for the duration.”
“Perfect.” No need to make small talk with anyone but Natalie.
She pulled up a document on the tablet and turned it toward him.
He filled in the make and model of his truck and confirmed his cell phone number and email.
She scrolled and tapped the screen. “You should have an email with all the information including the door lock codes and my number so if you need something, just call.”
“You’re not staying? You don’t live here?”
“No.” She hugged the tablet to her chest. “The place is all yours, but we’re close if there is a problem.” Her gaze slid toward the beach and he heard the squeal of car brakes. “New neighbors?”
“Well, there is some construction beyond the trees.” She pointed. “I’ll apologize now for the noise.” She was looking past him now and he turned to see a policeman walking by. “And we have excellent security.”
“What’s going on, Natalie?”
She gathered a couple of cookies into a napkin. “Just a small issue. You go ahead and settle in. Remember, choose any room you like,” she called over her shoulder as she darted after the cop.
He followed, too curious now to pretend to play along. “Is there a ride-share app around here?”
She stopped short and turned around. “Of course. Sometimes. If you can’t get a response, just call me.”
“You’re the backup ride-share service?”
“For the Hideaway,” she clarified. “I’ve been known to drive a person here or there. My sisters would tell you I mostly drive them crazy.”
He stepped closer and looked over her shoulder to where the cop had stopped near the shore. “If I’m the only guest and the beach is private, I’m guessing that guy in the sand is a friend of yours?”
The color drained from her face, leaving her as pale as a ghost. Her body swayed and he reached out to catch her before she toppled into the fire pit. He was always pushing too hard. The issue had come up regularly in his performance evaluations.
“Easy,” he murmured, guiding her down into the nearest chair. He ignored the way her body felt under his hands. “Take a breath,” he said. “Nice and slow.” He demonstrated, urging her to follow his example.
“I’m fine,” she managed after a couple of cycles.
“I’d like to believe you,” Trent replied. “Why did you call the cops for the trespasser down there?”
“Because he’s dead.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and surged to her feet. “Celeste will have a fit. That was hardly professional.”
“But accurate,” he soothed. “And I’m not a typical tourist.”
Her attention whipped back to him and she relaxed. “You’re right.” A smile bloomed slowly and color came back into her face. “You’re right. Holy cow.” She lunged forward, wrapping him in a big hug. “Thank you for being you.”
“You’re welcome?”
She laughed, this time sounding sincere about it. “I was worried we’d have to refund the reservation or find you another place.” Her eyes went wide. “And we will, if it bugs you that someone washed up like this.”
“Washed up?”
“Yes.” She nodded, clearly miserable. “I was taking a break from the morning to-do list and he rolled in with the surf. No one would blame you for wanting to find somewhere else to stay.”
The kind offer fit better with his first impression of her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Really?”
Her hopeful expression landed like a sucker-punch. Her dark lashes framed those fascinating blue eyes that edged toward violet in the sunlight.
“We’ll definitely comp the agency somehow—”
“Plenty of time to work that out.” He continued walking with her toward the officer standing near the body. If he was lucky, there would be some distinguishing feature to tie the body to his case. If he was really lucky, it would be Frank Royer, the suspected ringleader of this bold theft ring.
Natalie waved and called out to the cop. “Hey, Will.” To Trent, she murmured, “Will is our local police lieutenant."
“Don’t come closer,” the lieutenant snapped. “It’s not pretty.” The man was tall, with a weathered face and hard expression that indicated years of police experience.
“I’m aware,” Natalie said. “I found him. Or rather, he found me.”
Working as swiftly and subtly as possible, Trent snapped a few pictures with his phone while Will took Natalie’s statement about the tide bringing the body in.
“Guardian Agency, huh?” Will aimed a hard look at Trent.
“Yes, sir.” He did his best to look casual.
“And is it business or pleasure that brings you to our island?”
He managed not to glance at Natalie. “Mostly business. I’ll coordinate with Jess Keller.”
One of the lieutenant’s salt-and-pepper eyebrows arched. “Jess Billings. She’s married.”
“Right,” Trent agreed. “And a mom too.”
The cop visibly relaxed. “Well, Nat, if this had to happen with any of your guests, I suppose this is the best scenario.”
“I’ll make sure to share that with Celeste.” She chewed on her lip. “And you won’t need to do any kind of investigating in or near the house?”
The cop shook his head. “Not unless he was a guest recently?” He gestured for Natalie to come around for a better view of the face. “I didn’t find any ID.”
“No thanks. I saw enough earlier. He hasn’t stayed with us.”
“Should you check with your sisters?”
“No need,” she replied. “If he’d been a guest, I would’ve heard about the neck tattoos.”
Will tipped his head. “Fair enough.”
Trent inched closer, angling as if he was trying to avoid the bright sunlight, until he could see enough of the man’s face. And the notable tattoos. Not Royer, but definitely part of the crew. A detail he would share through the proper channels later.
Normally, he wouldn’t withhold information from the police, but he’d just arrived and couldn’t afford to trust anyone with too much intel.
“We’ll finish documenting the scene and remove the victim as soon as possible,” Will said. He scowled at the body. “Probably another hour or two.”
“Thanks so much.” Natalie looked as if she might hug the cop. “I’ll pack up some cookies for you and Maureen. Are the boys in town?”
Will’s mouth twitched. “It’s just us for the moment.”
“Okay.” She beamed at Trent and started back toward the house. “C’mon. I’ll give you the full tour and get out of your hair.”
“Good to meet you.” Trent gave the lieutenant a nod and traipsed after Natalie.
He hadn’t expected things to move quite so quickly. The researcher who had tracked the currents had been right to point him at Brookwell. Now he just had to figure out where Royer had wound up and if anyone else on the island was in on the scheme.