Page 73 of Light of Day
Heather droveher mother to the Bloodshot Eyeball so they could survey the damage in the cold light of day. The place was a mess, but most of the damage was in the kitchen. Smoke still drifted from the remains of the back wall, where the six-burner range sat. It was a deformed shell of its former self. Heather used a stick to pick up one of the burners, which had melted into a distorted figure-eight-ish shape.
“Put a new stove on the list,” she told her mother. They both put on N95 masks so the smoke wouldn’t get into their lungs while they worked.
All of the power had been disconnected, so the first order of business was to salvage whatever they could from the freezer. They’d brought a few coolers from home and loaded up frozen berries, bread, rolls, butter and cookie dough until the freezer was empty. Everything in the fridge was now room temperature, but they transferred everything from there as well.
“I guess we’ll be eating lots of cream for the next couple of weeks,” Heather joked.
“I’m going to bring all this to the Clambake. I don’t know if they’ll take it, since it hasn’t been kept at the proper temperature. The health department might not like it.” Her mother had soot smudges on her face mask, her forehead, and even the bandanna holding her hair back.
“How often do they even come out here?”
Sally shrugged, looking tired. The cleanup was going to be daunting, and Heather mentally revised the amount of time she’d have to spend out here.
“Let’s take a break and get some ice cream,” she suggested. “It’s practically a hazmat site here. We deserve a break.”
They loaded up the coolers and drove them to the Clambake Grill, where all the staff gathered around Sally to extend their sympathies, and even offer to help with the cleanup. Heather’s heart swelled as she watched. She might have her issues with the island—boy, did she ever—but when it came to rallying to someone’s side in times of trouble, the place came through.
She checked her watch. It was getting close to eleven, which was checkout time at the Lightkeeper Inn. Gabby’s other flash drive was still hidden in room 232. If she arrived just after checkout time, maybe she’d find the room empty. Maybe that drive had some answers.
Her glance landed on a familiar figure leaving the ice cream shop next door. Heidi Ochoa. She was climbing into a golf cart belonging to the inn. Maybe she was headed back that direction.
“Mom.” She reached through the crowd of well-wishers to tap her mother on the shoulder. “I need to go do something. Can you get back home on your own?”
“Of course, honey.” Looking invigorated by all her supporters, her mother shooed her away.
Heather ran down the steps and lunged in front of the golf cart, which came to a lurching halt. “Can I get a ride to the inn?” she asked the shocked Heidi.
“Jeez. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Heidi adjusted the pretty paisley scarf that had come loose during the sudden jerk of the cart. “Sure, climb on in, just promise you’ll never do that again. Hitting someone with one of these things is my nightmare.”
Heather got in next to her and held onto the bar while Heidi steered the golf cart toward the east. “This isn’t the best day to visit the inn,” Heidi warned her. “So. Much. Drama.”
“Oh really? What’s going on?”
“Apparently Mr. Carmichael has been having a secret affair. His wife is furious. It’s a whole drama.”
Heather couldn’t drum up too much sympathy for John Carmichael or Celine, who’d been pretty cool to her in the library. “Sorry, that sounds like a mess for everyone. Does it affect you guys too?”
“Everyone’s speculating about who he cheated with. It’s all anyone’s talking about.”
From the smug smirk Heidi tried to hide, Heather figured she probably knew who it was. “And? Who’s your number-one suspect? Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “Is it that gorgeous bartender?”
“Jasmine? Ew, no. She’s like, twenty-two.”
“Since when does a fifty-year age difference matter to the rich and famous?”
Heidi hooted with laughter as they reached the sandbar road. A brisk wind coming from the east ruffled the ocean on that side of the sandbar, creating a zone of calm in the lee of it. “I forgot how funny you are. No, I think it’s someone much closer to home. Someone who’s been at Mr. Carmichael’s side for as long as anyone can remember.” Heidi dropped her voice to ghost-story level. “Seriously, if you ask people when Judy started working at the inn, like, no one knows. It’s like she’s a vampire.”
“Judy the manager? You think she’s having an affair with the big boss?” Heather doubted it, simply because she didn’t fit the profile John Carmichael usually chose—young and glamorous. She’d only seen Judy from across the foyer, but she came across as all business.
“I’ve seen them talking.” Heidi brushed the end of her scarf away from her face; the wind was wreaking havoc with it. “It didn’t look like hotel business, if you know what I mean.”
“Saucy.”
“Oh yeah. You know, Judy has kind of a dominatrix vibe. Some men like that.”
Heather burst out laughing. “Heidi, you sure have changed since I babysat you in high school.”
“Not really. I used to sneak shots from my parents’ liquor cabinet while you were watching TV.”
