Page 4 of Trick of Light
Even though Gabby had nailed the situation, he didn’t have to like it. He shot her a long dark look that had no apparent effect on her. Which was surprising, in a way. Barnaby knew he presented an intimidating front, all wild black hair and thick beard that refused to ever disappear completely. Like his father, he generally loomed over everyone else. Some women liked his height, but others found it daunting.
Gabby didn’t seem the daunted type. Or the easily impressed type.
“I’d think carefully before you put anything about this incident on your podcast,” he told her. “Safiya deserves her privacy.”
“That was Safiya?” Heather’s expression shifted to one of even more concern.
“I thought it was her,” said Gabby, more subdued now. “We got to know each other when I was staying here before. Don’t worry, we’re not doing a podcast on mysterious illnesses at fancy hotels.”
“Actually, that sounds pretty interesting,” quipped Heather. “We could maybe branch out.”
“Only if Barnaby turns out to be a dirty rotten bastard.” Gabby’s teasing tone made the hairs on his arms rise. Something about her got a reaction out of him no matter what she said.
“He’s not,” said Sasha, kindly coming to his defense. She held her shirt away from her skin. “He’s an excellent first responder, and he was really kind to that woman. She was so scared, and he kept her calm. I’m going to find a bathroom. Does anyone have an extra shirt I can borrow?”
“Ask the front desk,” he told her. “There’s a lost and found with a shocking amount of Prada and Ralph Lauren.”
Sasha’s eyes lit up and she hurried toward the front entrance. She paused to let a truck pass by; Barnaby saw that it was his brother Luke arriving in his Nissan Frontier. The truck pulled onto the grass, to the side of the long curving drive, and Luke climbed out.
“Got a call,” he said laconically. Clearly he was in island constable mode, but even then, he had a relaxed manner that put everyone at ease. That was probably how he’d won the support of the hardworking members of the fishing community, who generally avoided the Carmichael clan at all costs.
He strode across the grass to join them, though of course Heather got his attention first, with a quick embrace and a kiss on the lips.
“The medivac just took off. She should be okay.”
“Safiya Abdi-Osman, right?”
Barnaby nodded, though he’d have to check the staff records to confirm her last name. He knew she’d come from Somalia, as had many of their recent hires.
“The paramedics called and asked me to check into her movements over the past day or so. Get samples of everything she’s worked with, see what meals she’s eaten, that sort of thing.”
Barnaby sighed. As the de facto head of the Lightkeeper Inn—at least for now—he’d have to assist with this project. “Let’s go,” he said, resigned to the rest of his morning being taken up by hotel business. “But just you. No one with a podcast is invited.”
“Look at us, catching strays for no reason,” said Gabby. “We’re just curious onlookers here.”
“Onlookers with a megaphone,” grumbled Barnaby. While he appreciated the purpose of the media, he questioned the execution, generally speaking.
Heather tried to tug Gabby away, but she resisted. “We’ll let you two do your thing, but if anything out of the ordinary comes up?—”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Luke promised at the same moment that Barnaby said, “You’ll never know.”
Barnaby glowered at his brother, who had no business promising a scoop, even a nonexistent one, to his girlfriend’s podcast.
“You boys work it out amongst yourselves.” Gabby’s eyes—a very pretty brown—glittered with amusement. “Just know that you won’t find a more accurate and fair news source anywhere else on the eastern seaboard.”
The two women left at that point, though Heather and Luke took the time for one more kiss.
“Things are going well, looks like?” Barnaby asked his brother as they headed for the entrance of the sprawling Queen Anne-style building, with its graceful white columns and patriotic bunting draped from the second-story balcony.
“So far so good. Bit of a rocky start, what with all the kidnappings and such, but now it’s all smooth sailing. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this…just, happy. It’s a little weird. Even Carrie’s happy for us. Izzy adores her.”
“Happy for you, man.”
Luke had gone through a lot with his first marriage—including getting cut off from the Carmichael family and money. If anyone deserved some peace and happiness, it was Luke, who had made a life for himself on the downscale western end of the island as a divorced single dad slash constable.
Barnaby doubted that he’d ever find anything resembling peace or happiness. The restless part of him that needed adventure, that craved other worlds beyond the privileged bubble he’d grown up in, wouldn’t allow it.
As Barnaby had requested via text, Judy Griffin met them in the foyer. The tall, imposing hotel manager knew more about the inn and its staff than anyone else. With her sharp blazers and blunt auburn bob, she could intimidate with a glance. Barnaby still felt the residual terror of being a fifteen-year-old caught smoking weed in an empty room by the fearsome Judy.
