“I know y’all aren’t used to this side of me, but if further action is required, you can count on me to take it.”
She’d take down Jackson. Gladly. Someday, she’d tell her sisters the lengths she’d gone to to make sure her ex-husband would have no claim on anything related to the Hargrave family.
“We’re lucky that this happened with a guest like Trent,” Celeste said, pulling Natalie out of her thoughts. “The Guardian Agency isn’t bothered, Jess let me know,” she explained to Nat. “As it is, word is spreading fast that this is a murder victim. We need to be ready for a slump if that goes public.”
“A slump is one thing, but everyone around here knows we’re not at fault,” Veronica said, her gaze fierce. “Surely this isn’t enough to cost us the entire business.”
While her sisters speculated on the intensity and reach of local gossip, Natalie’s thoughts drifted back to darker times and ugly memories. Rumors had only added fuel to the fire, turning vicious during the year she’d been married to Jackson.
Her appetite gone, she sipped sweet tea to settle her stomach. She wasn’t that girl who trusted blindly anymore. No longer innocent or naive. He had clipped her wings in too many ways. Maybe it was worse than that. Maybe he had only put her in a cage and she was the one who clipped her own wings to fit his mold. His needs. So happy and eager to be a wife that she’d discounted her own value and interests. It had taken years after the speedy divorce to find herself again. To trust herself enough to reclaim the artist within and let her creativity be seen.
Just thinking about Jackson was like rubbing salt into an open wound. Shoving back from the table, she cleared the dirty dishes and empty take-out containers. The chore done, she summoned a stronger smile for her older sisters. “Thank you for dinner. I’m going out.”
Celeste looked alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing serious. I’ve got my phone.” She patted her pocket. “I can stay if there’s something else to discuss.”
Celeste shook her head. Veronica grinned. “Go have fun. Unless that will spoil things for your newest piece.”
“As if.” She could only hope those dark vibes would dissipate before she finished. Then she could tuck it away or dismantle what she had so far. “I’m a professional, remember?”
With a wave, she was out the door, that recurring chill pinching her shoulders. She needed quiet. Or maybe a roar. Either way, the beach would do.
CHAPTER 5
Trent was restless, pacing back and forth through the Hideaway kitchen. After two days haunting the marina, he had zero viable leads for his case. He’d walked the area, booked a fishing charter, and taken paddle board lessons. Anything that would keep him near the water and the constant action down there. It wasn’t a matter of running out of excuses to be in the area. There was plenty left to explore. He was simply frustrated with his lack of progress.
The locals were starting to recognize him wherever he went. They knew he was here for what amounted to a working vacation, and they knew he had professional ties to Jess Billings at the Guardian Agency office.
Genuine, neighborly interest was part of life on Brookwell Island. Although it was now a rental, the Hargrave Hideaway was situated in a neighborhood rather than a tourist area. He didn’t mind the questions or impromptu conversations. Instead, he found the innocent curiosity strangely soothing, despite the secrets he had to keep.
Every morning, no matter where he went, folks asked how he was doing. They all wanted to know that he wasn’t bothered by staying so close to where a murder victim had washed ashore.That first day, he’d tried to shift the narrative away from murder, to no avail. And when the Chief of Police, backed by the state investigators, held a press conference asking for information, he gave up.
Maybe, if everyone in town was looking for the killer, they would flush out Trent’s target.
The only person he wanted to be transparent with was Natalie. She believed he was a consultant for the Guardian Agency—close enough to the truth that he shouldn’t be bothered. But something about her made him want to tell her thewholestory. Not in the cards. He could practically hear his bosses raking him over the coals for that mistake.
He chalked up the unprecedented urge to how much he liked the Hideaway hostess and admired her bright spirit and bold courage. Someday, he’d enjoy taking her out, getting to know her better.
After he solved this case.
His watch chimed and he smiled at the message. Grabbing his key for the Hideaway, he headed out to the Pelican Pub, eager for a change of scenery. With luck, he’d catch some chatter from the locals about trouble out on the water.
Everything he’d learned about the boat thieves he was tracking led to a connection here at Brookwell. And yet, his suspect list remained empty. He’d eliminated several people over recent weeks. Even Natalie. At one time she had been on his list of potential connections. Foolishly maybe, but he couldn’t afford to overlook anything. Especially now that bodies were dropping.
He enjoyed the walk to the pub. The evening was quiet out here and soothed the rough edges left behind by the case. Inside, he spotted Nash Billings and Boone Reynolds right away. Both men had deep connections to the island and had a good feel for the people here. Nash was born and bred here on Brookwelland married to Jess, now the regional personnel coordinator for the Guardian Agency. Although raised on the island, Jess had spent years down in Key West, Florida as a cop before returning. Boone was a Guardian Agency protector, married to Nash’s sister, Nina. And she owned Island Bloomers, a shop on Central Avenue. If there was any concern about stolen boats or other property around town, odds were good Nash or Boone would’ve heard about it.
“Another round?” Nash asked Boone, sliding out of the booth.
“Count me in,” Boone replied.
Nash grinned. “What’re you drinking, Trent?”
“Whatever’s on tap,” he replied. With a nod, Nash went to the bar. Trent turned to Boone. “How are things going?”
Boone stretched his arms across the back of the booth. “Great! I’m making the most of my hours away from teething,” he explained.
“Smart man.”
