Page 39 of Knox

“Sarah Lake disappeared in August last year.” Sloane was already moving to another journal. “She visited your mom on the twenty-first.”

I searched again. “That was the weekend of the kite festival. Another major tourist draw.”

Sloane looked up from the journal, her green eyes sharp with understanding. “And Jessica Hammond?”

“Let me check.” I scrolled through my search results.

“That was the summer concert series.” Sloane’s eyes widened. “I was there. It kicked off that Friday and went all weekend. Traffic was madness.”

“They all came during big events.”

“When the island was crowded, and it would be harder for an individual to stand out.” Sloane’s voice was quiet, controlled, but I could hear the thread of anger beneath it.

“Perfect hunting ground for a predator.” My muscles flexed. “Easy to blend in with the tourists, pick a target, follow them to isolated trails.”

“But the women all came here first. To your mom’s shop.” Sloane turned to face me fully, and we were suddenly very close. “Could he have a connection to this place?”

“Like a recently fired vendor.” I thought about the way Mom made everyone feel like family within five minutes of meeting them. She was popular and would’ve been recommended by most locals. “Let’s hope it’s that simple.” Though, if Mom suspected Lehman, she surely would’ve told Nash.

“What if whoever’s doing this wasn’t directly connected, just watching the shop?” Sloane asked. “Her female customer base had increased heavily this year through word of mouth. Someone hanging around could’ve seen where your mom sent the hikers.”

The thought made my stomach turn.

Sloane reached for another journal, this one from six months before my mother’s death. “We should make note of any particular name that appears often.”

My gaze returned to the terminated vendor contract. The only one in the file. Lehman & Son – Excursion Supplies and Trail Guides. “Did Mom ever send hikers with other tour leaders?” I pushed the page in Sloane’s direction, one fingertip beneath the final words in the company title.

Sloane nibbled her bottom lip, eyes tight. “Not that I knew about, but I’m sure there’s documentation if she did.”

I had no doubt.

We dove back into the journals, working in focused silence. I was intensely aware of Sloane beside me, of the small sounds she made when she found something interesting, and the gentle brush of her fingers against mine when we reached for the same page.

“Here,” Sloane said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Eighteen months ago. ‘Met with potential vendor about additional excursions. Seems knowledgeable. Mentioned missing hiker. Appreciated.’”

“That was before Sarah Lake but after Rebecca Snow.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Any note on what kind of vendor? Contact information?” I didn’t even know how many vendors Mom worked with. How was I supposed to take over her research, not to mention her life’s work, when I knew nothing about any of it?

Sloane closed the journal with shaking hands. “We’ll figure it out. It’s just going to take time. We have the VW bus connection and all Claire’s notes. It’s a lot to work with.”

The bell over the door jangled, and my hand automatically went to my hip where my sidearm would have been. Old habits. I relaxed when Archer’s familiar bulk filled the doorway, Colton right behind him.

“Well, well, well.” Archer’s grin was wide and knowing as he took in the scene. “We saw your ride outside and thought we’d check in. See how you’re doing.” He strode inside wearing black joggers and a matching black T-shirt. His baseball cap identified him as Security in white vinyl letters.

I laughed. “What exactly are you supposed to be securing?”

Archer offered a gesture better suited to someone half his age, and I smiled, knowing this meant he was happy, comfortable, and at ease.

“Looks like you’re doing well,” Colton added. Unlike his partner, dressed hat to boots in black, he wore a button-down shirt with a bright blue wave pattern, unbuttoned, over a tank top that said Carolina Babe. The words were a touristy favorite. Word play on our town name, Carolina Bay.

I shook my head at the dynamic duo.

“Good to see you again, Sloane.” Colton grinned.

She raised one hand in response. “Hi.”

“What are you guys up to?” I asked. “Besides shopping for ridiculous apparel.”

“Checking out the island.” Archer moved in our direction, his sharp eyes sliding over the counter before me, where my hand rested on Sloane’s. “Thought you might be getting hungry.” His lips twitched, fighting a smile before going flat.