Page 28 of Skin and Bones

“I’ve got Chowder,” I said, as the dog in question rolled onto his back at Dash’s feet, stubby legs waving in the air. “He’s very intimidating once you get past the ridiculous snoring and pathological need for belly rubs.”

“I can see that,” Dash replied, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he obliged Chowder with a quick scratch. “He’d definitely strike fear into the heart of any intruder with carryout food.”

I smiled despite myself. It was almost disorienting how quickly he could shift from intense to charming and back again. The room felt warmer with him in it, and I wasn’t sure if that was comforting or concerning.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat and tapping the papers on the table, “Now that we’re all caught up on break-ins and threats, we should probably talk about why we’re really here. Elizabeth’s last diary entry mentions the lighthouse. We need to search it.”

“The lighthouse is county property under Coast Guard jurisdiction,” Dash said. “We can’t just walk in.”

“Well, technically…” Deidre began, then stopped when we all looked at her. “I may have a key.”

“You what?” I asked, nearly choking on my bourbon.

“I’m on the historical preservation committee,” she explained. “We have access for documentation purposes.”

“That’s…convenient,” Dash said slowly.

“I think the word you’re looking for is illegal if we use it without authorization,” Hank pointed out.

“Only if we get caught,” Bea countered cheerfully.

“No one is breaking any laws,” Dash stated firmly. “I can get us access officially. I’ll file the paperwork for an evidence search.”

“That could take days,” Walt objected. “And it would alert whoever broke into the station.”

“I have a better idea,” I said, the plan forming as I spoke. “The historical society is hosting a fundraiser tomorrow night. Lighthouse tours are part of the package.”

“We’d all need tickets,” Dottie pointed out.

“I have tickets,” I said. “Patrick served on the board. They still send me invitations every year.”

“That could work,” Dash conceded. “But it’s still risky. The entire island social circle will be there.”

“Which makes it the perfect cover,” Walt countered. “No one would suspect us of searching for evidence at a public event.”

“And who’s going to notice a few senior citizens wandering away from a tour?” Deidre added. “We’re practically invisible. People just see gray hair and assume we’re confused.”

“I’ve never had a gray hair on my head,” Bea said, patting her flaming-red coiffure.

“God wouldn’t know your real hair color if he had to pick it out of a lineup,” Deidre said without malice.

“I can only bring one guest with my ticket,” I said, looking around the table.

“It should be Dash,” Walt said immediately. “He’s got training.”

“It absolutely should not be Dash,” I countered. “Everyone on the island knows who he is. He’d stick out like a peacock at a penguin convention.”

“I’ll be there anyway,” Dash explained. “The historical society sent me an invitation as soon as I took office. Apparently, the sheriff is always on their guest list for these fundraisers.”

“How convenient,” I said.

“For once, yes,” he agreed. “I can mingle with the guests while keeping an eye on things. No one will question why I’m there.”

“Deidre already has a ticket because she’s a board member,” I said.

“I have a ticket because I’m a donor,” Hank said. “I donate to all kinds of things. I’m always getting invited places that have a dress code and want me to bring my checkbook. I never go, but I’ll make an exception this once as long as I don’t have to donate more money.”

“I can get my own ticket,” Bea announced, looking at her red manicured nails. “I still have connections. I’ll show up about fifteen minutes late so no one thinks we’re all together.”

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