“We’re all wondering, though,” Mom conceded.
Peyton shrugged. “I mean, I’m sorry somebody died, but I’m not sorry they’ve got something else to talk about besides me.”
Angling her head, Bree added some shredded cheese to her bowl. “Fair point.”
I knew the conversation wasn’t likely to veer toward anything else. “Did you hear anything at the Brewhouse today?” The bar was such a hub for gossip, I figured there was a solid chance Bree had heard whatever there was to hear.
“It was David Galef and definitely a homicide.”
I frowned. “David Galef. Why do I know that name?”
“Few years ahead of us in school. In Caroline’s class, I think. He works—worked—in the fishing industry during the season. Odd jobs during the off. He was a grade A douchecanoe.” Bree said it easily, as if she were describing the weather.
But I knew her. “He give you problems?”
Her gaze flicked up to mine. “None I couldn’t handle.”
Damn if that didn’t incite a million more questions.
“They said at school that this was the second body found in the past year. What was the deal with the last one?”
Shit. This really probably wasn’t an appropriate topic for a teenager. But I’d rather her talk about this with us than anyone else. “We had a hurricane last year. There were some old remains discovered in the aftermath. Our friend Willa and her husband Sawyer found them. Turned out to be a guy who was involved in… well, some not good things.”
“Did the police figure out who killed him?”
“Well, not so much the police as Willa.” Bree dipped cornbread into her chili. “The killer came after her.”
Peyton’s eyes went wide.
“No, no. She’s okay. He was killed.” Bree winced. “I’m making this worse.”
I shook my head. “You’re the one who was here.” Of course, Mom and Mimi were, as well, but they hadn’t been involved. Bree and Willa were tight.
“They also said it had something to do with a girl who disappeared a long time ago,” Peyton added.
Mom picked up the conversational baton. “Gwen Busby.”
It seemed like the ghost of her was never far away these days.
“She was only fifteen—little bit older than you when she went to the end of school bonfire. It’s been a tradition on the island for a long, long time. She disappeared from the party, but nobody realized until morning because a big storm blew in and ended things early. The whole island mobilized to look, but no trace of her was ever found.”
Mimi laid a hand over Mom’s. “So tragic.”
“What do they think happened?”
I was not about to admit to my kid, who wasn’t that much younger than Gwen had been, that the current suspicion was that she’d been a victim of human trafficking. “Something bad.”
I’d known it was bad at the time, even before that possibility had been raised. But now? Looking at it through the lens of a parent of a teenage girl? I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if anything happened to Peyton, and she’d only been mine for a matter of weeks. Now the island I’d always believed was safe had a murderer on the loose. It was nothing to do with us, and there was no reason to believe anyone I cared about was in danger, but the idea of it still made me nervous. Especially as I needed to leave the island for a couple of days.
“Not to change the subject precisely, but I need to go out of town for a couple of days.”
Conversation came to a screeching halt, and Peyton immediately froze up.
“I just have to be gone overnight. Two days at the most. I have to head to Norfolk to formalize the arrangements to transfer the remainder of my naval contract to the Reserves instead of active duty. It means I can stay here on Hatterwick and work remotely.”
She relaxed at that. “Oh. Okay.”
“You’ll be staying with your grandmothers for the night until I get back. But under the circumstances, I want someone picking you up and dropping you off from school until this murder is solved, just as a precaution.”