Page 49 of Smuggler's Cove
Madison was now sitting on the edge of her seat. “What time will he be back?”
The detective gave her a wry smile. He knew she was not going to like the answer. “Fifteen to twenty days.”
“Fifteen? Twenty? Days? Can’t you send the Coast Guard to fetch him?” Madison’s eyes were bugging out.
Burton laughed. “No. He is not under arrest. At least not yet.”
“Well, if he is a suspect, shouldn’t you go and get him?” Madison was trying to keep her voice at a normal octave.
Burton laughed again. “Ms. Wainwright, please. You are going to have to be patient. We do not know if a crime has been committed. Not yet, anyway.” Burton wrote down a few more notes. “When you went to the dock yesterday, did you notice anything out of order?”
Madison burst out laughing. “Sorry. I had never set foot on the property before yesterday, and if you saw the inside, you would not be able to tell if it had been ransacked or not.” Madison regrouped. “There were maps, and papers.” She omitted the stinky part. “Not that I asked, but if something were amiss, I would think Hannah would have mentioned it. But I will be happy to ask her.”
“That’s alright. We’ll be going over to the area in about an hour for some follow-up questions. I can ask her myself. But thank you.” Burton scribbled another note.
Madison was bouncing her knee up and down under the table. Olivia placed her hand on Madison’s thigh, hoping to reduce the possibility of levitation. Madison sat straight. She took a deep breath. “I guess we are going to have to see how things unfold.”
Lincoln suppressed a grin. He knew his sister was about to hit the ceiling, figuratively and literally.
“I’m afraid so, Ms. Wainwright. It’s going to take some time. But we will keep you up to date on our progress.”
“Thank you,” Lincoln said, nodding.
“Yes. Thank you,” Madison added.
Olivia knew her work was cut out for her. Madison would be moving full bore trying to settle this. Olivia would have to keep her friend on an even keel. For everyone’s own good. When Madison got something stuck in her craw, you had to either follow or get out of the way. Madison was not one to wait for people to get things done.
“I have something I want to give to Hannah,” she said to Burton. “Would it be alright if we go over to the dock?”
“As long as you don’t go past the crime-scene tape,” he said flatly.
Madison imagined being wrapped up in a roll of it.
“Thanks again for coming in.” They stood, shook hands, and reassured one another they would keep everyone up to date.
When they got back in the car, Lincoln turned to Madison and smiled. “I’m going to have another one of those clam sandwiches.”
Madison shivered.
They returned to the small parking area across from the dock. People were still gathered, chatting, smoking. Olivia elbowed Lincoln and nodded at the NOSMOKINGsign next to the gas pump. It was a mystery to see so many people with cigarettes, especially young people. Then again, no one among the throng seemed to be using sunscreen, either. It was a different world.
The three got out and walked toward Hannah and a small group of people. “Hey! Didn’t think we’d see you back here so soon!” Hannah gave them a wave.
“Me, either,” Madison answered, gritting her teeth. Then she reminded herself that Hannah was a nice person and did not deserve a chill from her. Madison pulled on a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to launder your clothes, so I got you these.” She handed the confused woman the bag. “As a thank-you.”
“For me?” Hannah gingerly took the bag and peeked inside. “For real?”
Madison’s face went soft. “Yes. For you. You were truly kind, and I was kind of a—well, you know.” Madison hesitated to use foul language. At least with people she didn’t know.
“Aw, shucks. You didn’t have to do this.” Hannah peered deeper into the bag and pulled out an incredibly soft, red and black, buffalo-plaid flannel shirt. “Ooh. But I’m glad you did. I was just telling Charlie I needed to go to the Tractor Store and get some new things. You saved me the time.” She plucked out the second shirt, which was a green plaid.
“I thought it matched your food truck.” Madison grinned. Always the fashionista.
“Well, it sure does.” Hannah held it up to her chest. “Charlie. Look.” Charlie ambled over to where the women were standing.
“Ms. Madison brought these for me. Wasn’t that nice of her? A thank-you present.”
When the crew from New York first arrived, Charlie didn’t think much of the tall, white-clad woman in high heels.
