Deadly Homecoming. Barbara Phinney
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after all these years, this island was trapping her again. Not as a troubled youth forced to live with a long-dead aunt who cared for nothing but the support check.
No, this time, the island wanted her for murder.
TWO
A few feet away, Lawson watched Peta pale as she stared at the officer. “Are you arresting me?” she finally managed to say with a catch in her throat.
Coolness lingered in Long’s expression. “No, Miss Donald, but this evidence isn’t confirming your story.”
Lawson took in the scene and felt for Peta. He hadn’t had much to do with the law here in Canada, unlike back home in Boston. Here, the business that brought him to this island was his own, and the fewer people who knew it, the better. Especially the police.
However, Lawson regretted not having cultivated a better relationship with Constable Long. The officer was trying to gauge Peta’s reaction. Right now, her reaction was very typical. She was outraged, shocked and, yes, scared.
Lawson quickly held up his hand to get the officer’s attention. “What you’re saying is that Miss Donald can’t leave the island, and as you can see—” he pointed to the NO VACANCY sign that had, with disturbing suddenness, appeared “—there is no room at the inn, nor in the only cell you have. So why not call the mainland police to come get her?”
The officer colored slightly.
He’s bluffing, Lawson thought. “In the meantime, I have a solution. I just rented the lighthouse cottage at the cliff. It’s a bit run-down, but it’s okay to stay in.”
“I thought you were staying up Fishing Weir Road,” Long said.
Lawson kept his expression deliberately cool. “Just a change of scenery. The lighthouse and cottage are unused right now, and come as a rented set, so to speak. The owner’s too old to do anything with them, so I thought I’d move. But Peta can stay there for a few nights. I’ve still got the house I’m renting right now.” He decided not to add that the place he had right now belonged to Danny Culmore.
He felt Peta’s stare settle on him. “That old lighthouse is still standing? It was abandoned years ago.”
“It’s a good piece of local history. The point I’m making, though, is that you need a place to stay and I’m offering the cottage. I really don’t think there’s any other place available.”
“But is it okay for you to stay at that other house?”
“The owner won’t mind.” Peta didn’t need to know anything more than that. Not right now, anyway.
She bit her lip and blinked. “Thanks.”
He cringed inwardly as he watched how her situation was affecting her. She wasn’t welcome. She was scared. And she looked like a caged animal.
The officer nodded. Just then, a call came over his radio and he turned away to answer it quietly. Lawson caught only a few garbled words, like media, boat, two hours.
Peta stepped toward the officer when he finished the short call. “I can’t explain the receipt, Officer, but I’d like to have my knapsack back. Surely you’re done with it by now?”
“I’ll make sure it’s delivered to you as soon as it’s released. But considering these—” he held up the bagged receipt and bottle “—I can’t guarantee when that will be.”
Shoulders sagging, she moved away from the patrol car as Long climbed back in. Lawson watched him do a U-turn in the middle of the deserted street and return to Danny’s house. A heavy sigh escaped Peta as she dropped down on the nearest bench, a few feet from where they’d been standing. She looked up at him, her expression hollow. “You didn’t have to offer the lighthouse cottage, but thank you. It was very kind.”
He found himself blinking at her direct stare. “It’s no big deal. But the place does need some work.”
“That’s okay. You saw Danny’s house and I was willing to stay there. I was just surprised that the spare bed was made. Danny was never very neat.”
Lawson sat down beside her. “The officer thought you’d been there at least overnight. He probably thought you were being a good guest and made the bed.”
Peta shook her head. She had wide, innocent eyes, the color of the bay. Her hair was cropped, messy, thanks to the wind. Its color seemed to be both caramel and coffee.
“I’d make the bed, but not pick up my things? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Lawson wanted to ask why her belongings were scattered to start with, but she said, “I just got here. I knocked on Danny’s front door. When he didn’t answer, I went in. The place looked exactly the way it had looked years ago. I’d spent enough time there to remember. There was no one downstairs, so I went upstairs. I knew Danny liked to sleep in. He…well, he partied a lot, so I figured he was sleeping it off, but he wasn’t. I looked out the master-bedroom window and that’s when I saw him.”
“But your stuff was all over the place.”
Peta frowned, then lit up. “It was! I knew right away that he was dead and went looking for a phone. I couldn’t find one upstairs, so I grabbed my cell phone out of my bag. I was panicking. I threw everything out of my knapsack before I found it. Stuff got scattered.
“I dialed 911, and for some reason, got Maine’s emergency instead. I must have accidentally connected to a U.S. cell. As soon as I realized that, I shut the phone and tore downstairs. I found the landline in the kitchen.”
“Where else did you go?”
She shot him an odd look. Was she thinking he was a cop? The thought made him smile wryly. That was hardly the case. “I raced through the house looking for the phone,” she answered. “I must have gone everywhere.” She drilled him with a hard stare. “But I just got there! Once the police find that ferry operator, he’ll tell them that he just brought me over.”
“What about the woman at the inn who puts you there two nights ago?”
Peta shook her head, too swiftly for his liking. “I don’t know why she’s saying that.” She ran her hands through her hair and let out a strangled noise. “This is crazy! I just arrived, I just found Danny dead and suddenly I’m the prime suspect? Do you think I would report his death if I’d killed him? I’d have left the island with that ferry operator and I’d be on my way back to Toronto by now. And I wouldn’t have left any evidence behind!”
“Who thinks straight when they’re killing someone?”
As soon as the question left his mouth, he knew who would. Gary Marcano, the man who he was certain had made his family disappear. And who would think straight when hiding the bodies?
Danny Culmore, as he and his investigator had begun to suspect?
Anger surged over him, and he fought it back with a gritty prayer. His family was gone. Gone and probably dead, because the police said they’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, witnessing the wrong thing. That was why he was here on Northwind.
To find them. To get justice for them.
Peta was staring at him. “I didn’t kill anyone. And I’ve never seen those pills in my bottle before.”
The gruesome thought of Danny’s death lingered and he shook it away. He’d never liked, or even been able to deal with, graphic imagery. Years ago, in college, his buddies called him a ready-made Christian because all he could handle in movies were the mild comedies.
“Sorry.”
He snapped his attention back to the present. “Why?”
“You looked like you were going to throw up. I know how you feel. Just seeing Danny dead. It was awful.” The ever-blowing wind caught the strands of her hair and plastered them to her face.