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Later while we’re wiping the last few crumbs from the counter Fiona comes up beside me and gives my arm a squeeze. “Are we good?” She raises her light brows at me.
“Yes.” I give her an earnest look. “I promise.”
“Good. Between your drama with the police and Carol Ann seeing dead people, we need to focus on something else. Something sexy. To make up for all the episodes you missed last night.”
My hand cups under the edge of the counter, ready to catch falling crumbs but my hand holding the warm damp rag freezes.
Something… sexy?
Does Fiona know where I was last night? Is abduction and sexual punishment of disobedient women common on this island?
Heat rises in my cheeks, thinking of him.
I hold my breath, waiting for her to finish her thought.
“Like counting codfish,” she jokes, giving me an elbow.
“Well, I am focused on large holes today,” I say, referring to the nets used to fish the cod. “Is that sexy?”
“Ick!” She wrinkles her nose “Certainly not.”
We laugh and I follow her out the door.
Luckily, the fire was in the rear of the center where the break room was. The computers and files were all toward the front. Help came to put the fire out in time to save most of what we needed from the offices to continue our research.
I wonder if the men with Bayne wanted to not only kill Clive, but also get rid of us too, destroying our research so they could go back to the days of fishing without regulation. That would explain the fire.
They didn’t win though, did they?
It will be a while before we get a check from the insurance claim and are able to rebuild. Working through Sunday to catch up from the fire, we move everything to a small building in town that the professor rented with grant money. It was the old newspaper office in the days when news was still printed on paper.
Island Chronicle.
We’re further from the water now, and Carol Ann’s taken the opportunity to do our morning water checks, saying she needs the walk to clear her head after her dreams.
The faint scent of smoke hangs in the air from what we brought from the storage units, but the place is cozy enough. Big windows overlook the main street, offering people watching as a nice break from my computer screen when I need it.
My computer faces the back wall, Fiona’s the other direction. No one can see my screen. I set my cup on the coaster I keep on the smooth tabletop and pull up my screen. I need to get back to my research, to document how many young cod can be saved just by putting larger holes in the nets for them to escape.
Google calls to me.
This is my only chance to communicate with the police without the girls knowing or to gather more information on him without my phone.
Realizing I don’t even know his first name, I type in Bayne.
An Island Chronicle article from ten years prior pops up. Written from the very news outlet we sit in now. I lift my tea to my lips as I scroll.
His face pops up.
I give a gasp, jumping back in my seat.
Fiona peeks around her computer screen. “Okay over there?”
“Tea was hotter than I expected.” I raise my cup to her in explanation.
“Needs more milk.” She smiles helpfully. “Let me make it for you next time.”
“Yeah.” I put the cup down, eyes glued on the screen.
