Page 76 of Trick of Light
“Because I’ll miss you.” He nuzzled her ear. How did he know that exact spot was one of her most sensitive turn-on triggers?
“Maybe we can meet up after,” she said, melting.
“Count on it.”
Count on me, was the unsaid part. Barnaby made her feel so secure, so appreciated. No man had ever given her that feeling before.
They parted ways on the dock, after a very public, very passionate kiss that drew a few glances from folks fishing for mackerel.
Okay then. The word would be out, if it wasn’t already.
Heather had left her mother’s truck at the dock for Gabby, with the keys on the driver’s seat. That was one of the island’s charms, for Gabby. No reason to worry about your vehicle getting stolen when there was nowhere for it to go.
Barnaby got into his own truck and sped off toward the southwest woods. Gabby followed more slowly, because there was something she wanted to do first, before she went to the inn, and he would probably think it was too dangerous. As soon as he was out of sight, she took the turn that would take her to Amelia’s house rather than to the inn. She really wanted to look around that guesthouse to see if Keith Garner—or any of the Garners—had left behind anything helpful.
But before she did anything else, she needed to talk to her mother, no matter the time of day.
“How important is it?” Paulette Ramon’s time was always in demand. Not only was she a state senator, but she chaired several organizations and was warming up for a national role.
“I just want to give you a heads-up about a story we’re working on for the podcast. The police might be implicated, but we don’t know yet.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake. Can you drop it until after the election?”
“That’s not until November, Mom.”
Her mother huffed out a breath of frustration. “I don’t need this, honey. The polls are tight. Think of your brother too.”
Guilt crept in like the inevitable tide. “I’m sorry. I promise we’ll be fair and accurate.”
A brief silence followed, during which Gabby imagined her mom calculating every angle in political terms, and possibly also reviewing a speech or two at the same time.
“That’s all anyone can ask,” she finally said briskly. “Will you be at the reunion barbecue? It’s coming up. Make sure you RSVP.”
Maybe her mother was in a good mood. Gabby decided to take a chance. “One more thing. In pursuit of a story, I got myself arrested and spent a night in jail here on Sea Smoke. No charges were filed and there’s no record of it, but I wanted to tell you so you don’t get blindsided if it ever comes out.”
“Gabriella Marshall Ramon. I can’t believe what I am hearing right now.” That was just the start. Gabby listened to her mother vent, but this time it slid right off her. That night in jail had bonded her with Tamara so she didn’t regret it for a minute.
“It’ll be fine, Mama,” she said after her mother had wound down the lecture. Almost as if she was doing the maternal soothing. “I promise. The risk was worth the reward, isn’t that what you’re always telling me? And yes, I’ll RSVP to the reunion right away.”
And that was that.
After the call had ended, Gabby sat for a moment as a wild thought struck her. Had she been arguing with her mother’s voice in her head this whole time, instead of the actual woman herself? That phone call had gone so much better than she’d expected.
When she stepped out of the truck, things felt different. Maybe a little unsteady at first, as if she was stepping onto new ground. But her confidence rose as she climbed that long staircase. This was her life, her work, her journey. All she had to do was own it.
The house, on its rocky perch with its blank windows, looked more mournful than ever. The only splash of color came from a bit of yellow crime scene tape stuck in the hinges of the front door, fluttering in the wind.
Gabby reached the covered porch, then walked around back to another set of stairs the led to a brick-lined path to a shed with corrugated metal roofing. It was only slightly bigger than a typical garden shed.
Was this actually the guesthouse where the entire Garner family had lived after Amelia bought the house?
Apparently it was, because when she unlatched the door, she saw it was furnished with bunk beds along one wall and a kitchenette in the back, if a camp stove and a mini-fridge could be called that. Other than a round table and a small propane heater, she saw no other furniture, no bookshelves or cabinets, logical places to hide something. Not that she even knew what she was looking for.
Oh well, it had been a long shot.
She wondered where Keith would have slept. Her gaze wandered to that top bunk. Might as well get a closer look. She climbed up on the top bunk bed, which had a flimsy piece of foam as a mattress. Something was scratched into the bare wood of the wall next to it.
Keith + Fiona 4 eva, it said.
