Page 59 of Easton Island

“No kidding. What was he doing flying all the way up here in a storm?”

“We may never find out.” Wyatt’s eyes were drawn to the bulky duffel bag he’d found washed ashore and added to the pile of plane debris. “Or maybe we will.”

Grady followed his gaze. “You want me to see what’s in there?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

The group of men gathered, watching as Grady untied the bag. He loosened the strings and flipped it over, emptying the contents.

Wyatt watched in horror as the items he was certain Jason Greer had brought with him to end Morgan’s life fell from the bag and onto the ground.

Chapter 27

Are you picking Tristan up from school today? The text from Ronni arrived out of the blue while Morgan was straightening up Locke Pointe’s office, getting ready for her return.

Morgan: Yes.

Ronni: What time?

Morgan: 3:00. School gets out at 3. Are you running behind?

Ronni: As luck would have it. We’ll have wheels up as soon as the storm blows through. It looks like a doozy.

A bolt of lightning flashed, startling Morgan. It’s storming here too. I’m at Locke Pointe and will be waiting for you. Be careful.

Ronni: Will do. See you soon.

Another bolt of lightning flashed, this one even closer. Morgan pulled up the local forecast and clicked on the radar. An angry red blob covered a wide swath of Lake Huron, from Mackinac Island all the way across the “Michigan Mitten” to Easton Island.

Buzz. A loud buzzing sound, similar to a plane’s engine, echoed.

Morgan ran to the window, watching in disbelief as a seaplane buzzed low overhead. “I hope they land safely. There’s no way I would want to be flying in this storm.” She got back to work, and it didn’t take long for her to finish her tasks—reservations confirmed, emailed questions answered.

After finishing, she inspected the grand suite, double-checking to make sure Austin and Tiff had not tried sneaking into the attic again, relieved to find the door locked and her “restricted area” sign still in place.

Near noon, she grabbed a quick bite to eat, which is when the texts between Elizabeth and Brett began flying back and forth. He promised he would be home near dinnertime and agreed to meet his sister and grandmother to go over the real estate investment group’s offer.

One o’clock rolled around, and Morgan sent another text to Ronni, asking if they were on the way but didn’t receive a reply.

“Ronni again?” Tina watched Morgan tap her cell phone screen.

“I sent a text to find out if they’d left. She’s not answering.” Morgan caught the echo of voices—Denver Coate’s deep baritone followed by Wyatt’s equally deep voice.

“That sounds like Wyatt and Denver.” She hopped off the barstool and hurried to the front of the house.

The men stood in the doorway, their clothes soaking wet.

“What happened to you?” Morgan reached behind the desk, grabbed a set of bath towels, and handed each of them one.

“We responded to an emergency call. A seaplane went down.”

Her hand flew to her lips. “I noticed a plane flying low overhead a while ago. When I looked out the window, I realized it was a seaplane. How awful. Is everyone okay?”

Wyatt dried his hair and set the towel on the counter. “I think you should sit down.”

She nervously gazed from one to the other. “Why?”

“Wyatt is right,” Denver said. “It would probably be best if you hear the news while sitting.”