Page 35 of Skin and Bones

I found Deidre across the room looking pale. “Are you okay, dear? You don’t look so good. Was that Deputy Larson?”

“Yes, that’s him,” I answered. “And I’m fine.”

“Does he suspect something?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “The only reason he’d have to suspect anything is if he knows about the diary.”

“Good point,” she said.

“We need to get out of here,” I said, feeling the weight of Elizabeth’s secret grow heavier with each passing moment. “Regroup somewhere safe.”

“Your place?” Deidre suggested.

I shook my head. “Too obvious. If someone’s watching us, that’s the first place they’ll look.”

“The tea shop, then,” Deidre decided. “Back entrance. One hour. I’ll tell the others. Be right back.”

I nodded, watching as she moved casually through the crowd before making her way to where Bea was holding court with a small group of society matrons.

I caught Dash’s eye across the lawn and gave him a slight nod toward the exit, and then held up my phone so he’d know to check my text message. He acknowledged with an almost imperceptible tilt of his head, then deliberately turned to engage Mrs. Whitaker in conversation, providing cover for our departure.

“Let’s go,” I whispered as soon as Deidre came back. “Act like we’re leaving because you’re tired from all those stairs.”

“I don’t need to act,” she grumbled, rubbing her knee. “I’m going to feel this tomorrow.”

We made our goodbyes to a few key people, playing our parts as innocent attendees departing an ordinary fundraiser. As we walked to my car, an irresistible impulse drew my gaze back to the lighthouse, its rotating beacon punctuating the twilight with rhythmic flashes.

Elizabeth had trusted her secret to that tower, believing it would be safe until someone came looking for the truth. Now, twenty-eight years later, we’d found it—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t the only ones searching.

As we drove through town, I took several unnecessary turns, doubling back and changing directions until I was confident no one was following us.

“I feel like I’m in one of those spy movies Walt is always watching,” Deidre commented as I made a third circuit around the town square.

“Better safe than sorry,” I replied, finally turning down the alley that led to the back entrance of The Perfect Steep. “I haven’t noticed that car that was following me before.”

“Maybe he got bored,” Deidre said. “You don’t really do a lot.”

“Thank you,” I said dryly. “All I know is that whatever’s in this package got Elizabeth killed. I’d rather not join her.”

I parked behind the shop and used my key to unlock the back door. The comforting aroma of bergamot and cinnamon that lingered even after hours of closure greeted us as we stepped into the darkened kitchen.

“I’ll put on some tea,” I said, flipping on the lights. “The others should be here soon.”

But before I could fill the kettle, the kitchen door swung open, and Sheriff Beckett stepped in. His suit jacket was gone, his tie loosened, and his expression serious.

“Did you find something?” he asked without preamble.

I nodded, pulling the plastic package from my pocket and handing it to him. “Hidden behind a brick in the mechanical room, just like Elizabeth’s diary suggested.”

Dash carefully took the yellowed plastic bag, examining it under the light. “This could be exactly what we need.” His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he placed it on the counter. “When will the others arrive?”

“They should be here shortly,” I said, filling the kettle.

I moved to put on some tea, my mind racing with possibilities about what might be inside the package. My fingers still felt the phantom weight of the evidence through the fabric of my dress pocket. Whatever had been in there had threatened someone powerful enough to kill for it twenty-eight years ago. Elizabeth’s words from her diary echoed in my mind: The men who run this island—they think they’re untouchable. But I have proof now.

Three quick knocks sounded at the back door.

“That’s Hank,” Deidre said, moving toward the door.

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