“Is that the marina?” she asked, pointing.
“Yes,” Tom said.
“We don’t man this island,” Joe said. “So no State Police vehicles for me to commandeer. We’re going to have to walk it.”
“Is there a harbormaster?” Conor asked.
“There’s barely a harbor,” Tom said. “You’ll see.”
The four of them set off along a dirt road toward the water. It was just two weeks past the longest day of the year, and they had over an hour until sunset. Flying at night wouldn’t be a problem, but getting around on the island might be. Fields were scored by stone walls, overgrown with vines and brambles. Barberry, bittersweet, and poison ivy were everywhere.
So far, they hadn’t seen a vehicle, but when they reached the town, Kate noticed cars parked in the driveways of two of the houses. One single street ran along the waterfront, with alleys sloping down to the docks. Many of the houses looked run down. She wondered if they were even occupied.
There was a building that was half general store, half post office with a single gas pump out front. The doors were locked, shades drawn. What had Suzanne been doing here, Kate wondered. It felt like a ghost town.
“The town that time forgot,” she said.
“If time ever knew it,” Tom said.
“I didn’t realize there were any islands in this part of the world that hadn’t been built up,” Conor said. “Where are the tourists?”
“The island is privately owned,” Tom said. “Two families who could never decide what they want to do with it—they’ve been feuding over it for years. One family wants to preserve everything the way it is now, the other wants to sell out to developers.”
“They’d make a fortune,” Joe said.
“If it’s private property,” Kate said, “are we allowed to be here?”
“I’m a detective with the Rhode Island State Police, and Tom is a Coast Guard commander, and this is an official investigation,” Joe said. “So, yes. We are.”
Kate scanned the docks. There were three, jutting out into the cove. Two needed repair and were unusable—their pilings were tilting, from lack of maintenance and the continual battering of the sea. The third one had two boats tied to either side: two fishing boats that looked to be in decent shape, a Boston Whaler, and a classic sailboat.
Joe took out the receipt made out to Suzanne that Kate had found in the wastebasket and scanned it.
“All it says is ‘dockage fee.’ Nothing more specific, so it’s anyone’s guess which boat she was paying for,” he said.
“I’m betting against the fishing boats,” Tom said. “They belong to a couple of guys with recreational lobster licenses. It’s got to be the sailboat.”
“Pretty,” Kate said. “My grandmother and Ruth used to charter Hinckleys up in Maine every summer. Beautiful designs.”
“Your grandmother had good taste,” Tom said. “This one’s a Hinckley Pilot—I’ve seen her around Fishers Island, Watch Hill, Stonington.”
They stood beside the Hinckley. She had a gleaming black hull with highly varnished brightwork—someone took very good care of her. The companionway door, leading down a steep, brightly varnished ladder to the boat’s interior, was half open. Kate could see that the wood frame was splintered, and the hinges had been jimmied. There were some rusty-looking drops on the deck.
“Is that blood?” Kate asked.
“Could be, and looks like we have a break-in,” Joe said. “I’m going to call for the police boat.”
“I’m going to board her,” Tom said.
“I thought you needed a warrant,” Kate said.
“The police do,” Tom said. “The Coast Guard doesn’t.”
Tom announced himself loudly, but there was no response from inside. Kate, Conor, and Joe watched him step over the lifelines onto the deck, move quickly to the companionway, and peer inside. A moment later, he disappeared down below. Kate knew it had to be dark there; she saw the beam of his flashlight moving behind the windows. A moment later, she heard him exclaim. He poked his head up.
“You are going to need that police boat,” he said. “And I’ll get my team out here too.”
“What is it?” Conor asked. Kate watched him and Joe step aboard and follow Tom down below. Kate climbed onto the deck. She leaned over to look through the doorway. She saw the two Reid brothers and Joe Harrigan standing in the main salon, staring at something. She went down the ladder; it took a moment for her eyes to get used to the dark.
