Page 57 of Light of Day
With Savannah tucked into a cat carrier in the crew cab of his truck, he drove to the North Point. With its windswept bluffs, it was a popular spot for blueberry picking. Trails wound along the cliffs, through wild roses and a profusion of blueberry bushes. It wasn’t the most obvious meeting place, since it was hard to reach and not especially private. At two in the afternoon, there would be at least a decent chance that someone else would be there.
In other words, Denton certainly wouldn’t be wary about meeting at the North Point. He probably had no idea that he was walking to his death. Maybe his murderer hadn’t either. Maybe something had changed during their encounter that had led to Denton getting strangled in a moment of hot emotion. Weren’t strangulations usually crimes of passion?
He found the trail that clung closest to the edge of the bluff and slowly walked it, looking for footprints, scuff marks, any signs of a struggle. A low scrum of clouds was gathering on the horizon, like a flock of sheep stampeding across the ocean. But for now, a pristine blue sky arched overhead and a whisper of a breeze sang through the bushes. Damn, Sea Smoke Island sure was beautiful. It was worth defending. Worth preserving. He was proud to be part of keeping the island safe.
Gabby’s words about “legacy” kept haunting him. He loved Sea Smoke for its charm, for its magical interplay of light and ocean and wind, and its tight, down-to-earth community. But his family had come here for something completely different—profit. That was the Carmichael legacy, like it or not.
Finally he found what he was looking for. The clear mark of a boot heel in bare dirt where the grass had been scraped away. He peered over the edge of the bluff. This was one of the few spots where the cliff-face was steep enough that someone rolling downhill might reach the water. Especially…
He pulled out Denton’s tide calendar. Yup. The tide had just turned past its peak at two in the afternoon. Instead of snagging on the rocks, Denton had likely splashed into the water, and then floated out to sea with the tide. The currents had picked him up and swirled him around to the west and carried him all the way to Seaweed Cove. At some point, kelp had gotten wrapped around his body, so when the incoming tide landed him on the rocks there, he’d stayed put.
Any local fisherman would probably know that the tides and currents would keep him from floating out to sea. But would other people? From this lonely, windblown spot, if you didn’t know any better, you might think that anyone falling off this cliff into the ocean would never be seen again.
That might be a lead, if it meant they were looking for someone who didn’t know the currents. That would rule out every single fisherperson, and possibly their spouses, and their deckhands. It probably ruled out most of the islanders in general, at least those on the western end, as everyone who grew up here tended to be aware of things like currents and weather patterns.
Gabby had said she was supposed to meet Denton, but had gotten kidnapped before it could happen. Was that the same meeting Denton noted in the tide book? Gabby hadn’t killed Denton, that much was clear. On Friday at two, she was in that yacht, thanks to Andy. But the timing sure was interesting.
Was a third party supposed to join the meeting? Or had a third party learned about the meeting and shown up to keep Denton from delivering this “proof”? Was Denton supposed to receive or deliver the proof? From the note, it was hard to tell.
At any rate, whatever Denton had delivered or received—or not—it was gone now. Nothing had been found on his person that could be considered “proof” of anything. Maybe his phone logs would offer some clues.
He sent a text to the Harbortown police officer assigned to the case, Officer Tina Chen, asking if she could forward Denton’s phone records to him as soon as she had them.
He took some photos of the footprint and sent them to Officer Chen as well. Ibelieve this is where it happened, he added.Can you get this print analyzed? It’s not Denton’s.Denton had been found wearing waterlogged Keens, and that print was from a boot heel.
He got a thumb’s up from Tina Chen, and decided he’d learned all he could from this spot on the rocks. He took one last look around, saying a little mental prayer for Denton Simms, for whom this had been his last view of this mortal world. At least it was a magnificent one.
As he climbed back down the twisting trail from the North Point, he sorted through what he knew so far. According to Gabby, Denton had uncovered some bombshell he wanted to share with her. Based on what Heather had found in that thumb drive, it was related to the time period when the Lightkeeper Inn had been built.
Maybe someone at the Lightkeeper had figured out that Denton was her source and wanted to get rid of him. Hadn’t Judy said that Gabby used the fast Wi-Fi in the conservatory? Someone there could have seen her laptop screen. Her research might have triggered alarm bells and they acted.
He needed to press Andy harder about who he’d overheard saying that Gabby was in danger. It was a delicate task, getting information from the kid, but maybe he’d have better luck today.
Or not.
When he called Lily Highgrove, she told him that Andy had shut down so completely that they’d called his therapist. He was currently on his way to the Harbortown Hospital for an overnight hold.
“I’ve never seen him like that, Luke,” she sobbed. “He was in a complete catatonic state, he looked terrified. It was so scary.”
“Would you be willing to talk to me about what’s been going on with him lately?”
“I don’t know…maybe later…” He heard the sound of a lighter.
Later it would have to be. “I’m taking Izzy out for ice cream, I’ll swing by after that.”
From the cat carrier next to him, Denton’s cat gave a loud, mournful meow.
“You want Heather, don’t you?” he murmured, scratching the cat’s head. “I get it. How about hanging out with my kid for a while instead? If you hang around Izzy for a while, you might forget you were ever sad. It always works for me.”
26
Heather waslate to the Sea Scoops Ice Cream Shop. A retired tugboat captain had opened the place about five years ago, as a hobby, and hired her old friend Ellen to paint a mural of mermaids perched on the rocks, enjoying their ice cream cones. Heather would have loved coming in here for that fact alone; the ice cream was a bonus.
She found Luke and Izzy already waiting for her, double-scoop cones in hand.
“No kiddie cones for you,” she joked to Izzy. “I was the same way when I was your age. I thought it was a big scam they were trying to pull on me.”
Izzy giggled through the chocolate ice cream smeared on her mouth, chin and even her nose.
