Page 83 of Light of Day
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Luke roaredup the drive toward the Lightkeeper Inn. From the passenger seat, Detective Chen glared at him. “I’m not trying to die solving this case.”
“No one’s going to die.”
God, he hoped that was true.
He raced into the hotel, with Officer Chen at his heels, causing heads to turn throughout the foyer. “Where’s Heather?” he demanded when he reached Heidi at the front desk. She was wearing a scarf, he noticed, but when he glanced at Chen, the detective shook her head.
“Too delicate,” she murmured.
“Heather? She…she hitched a ride with me earlier but I don’t know where she is now. Did she do something wrong? Is it another punch bowl situation?”
“What? No. We’re just trying to find her. What about Judy? Do you know where she is?”
Heidi was looking more and more deer-in-the-headlights. “No. That’s funny, I haven’t seen Judy for a while either. Oh no. Do you think they’re in the same place?”
“Like where?” Officer Chen frowned at the young receptionist, making her cower back even more.
“I…I…I don’t know, somewhere…like, having a drink, or ice cream, or?—”
Luke cut her off. “Let’s move on. How about any of the Carmichaels? Where are they?”
Heidi brightened up immediately, as if she finally knew the answer to a pop quiz. “Barnaby’s here. I saw him helping the grounds crew with that new rock wall. Carson…I think I saw him having breakfast with your dad and Celine earlier. Fiona was showing Tatum DeBatum around the blueberry patch. They looked pretttyyy flirty. Oh, and you know about Kayla, right?”
Luke shook his head, though the name sounded familiar.
Heidi covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh shit,” she murmured.
“Better tell me now.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “Affair. Your father.”
The name clicked then. “Wait, you mean Kayla, Fiona’s friend?”
Heidi nodded. Luke’s stomach lurched with that old familiar nausea from when John had cheated on his mother. Fuck. Did old patterns never end?
“Is my father upstairs?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Mmm-mmm.” Heidi answered as if she hoped never to have to talk again, because it kept getting her into trouble.
As they left the desk, Chen’s phone buzzed. “Chief’s calling. Gotta take this. Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”
Luke took the stairs three at a time. The third floor, as always, held the hush of luxury, of plush carpets and expensive sound-proofing. Every wife redecorated, and Celine had chosen a palette of cream and sky blue that, he had to admit, was quite soothing. Each of the younger Carmichaels had their own private suite, but of course the largest one belonged to John. In the common area—which held a dining area, couches, and a separate entertainment room—a spiral staircase led to the famous widow’s walk. There was a full state-of-the-art kitchen as well, even though most meals were sent up from the hotel’s kitchen.
“He can’t see you right now,” Celine told Luke as she gently shut the bedroom door of the master suite. He noted the shadows under her eyes, which didn’t quite meet his. The news of the affair must be hitting her hard. She wore a creamy linen slip dress and no shoes. “He’s with the doctor.”
“What doctor?”
“It’s a diagnostic visit.”
When Luke waited for more, she added, “Your father doesn’t want people to know. You know how proud he is.”
Luke frowned, catching something off in her manner; but he didn’t have time to question it. He had to find Heather. “This is an emergency. Someone’s missing.”
“That girl, right? I thought you found her.”
“Someone else. Heather McPhee, she met with you and Dad a couple of days ago. I’m hoping my father might know where she is.”
