Page 27 of Bait and Switch
Aboard theTicket, Gabe stomped around to get his feet warm again and then fumbled with the thermostat because his fingers were cold, but eventually he managed to fire up the old boat’s heater.
He puttered around for a good hour, one ear listening for his neighbor, before starting to wonder where the hell Lundin was. Again, the Wagoneer had not been parked in its spot when he got to the marina. Gabe had questions about Casey’s brother, likeif Mickie might have known Peter. Or—a long shot, from what Elton had told him—if maybe Casey had. Thoughts swirled and danced in his brain like the tails of a kite. Gabe would mentally grab hold of one possibility, but then another would pop into his head and the first would fall to the wayside. There was a whole damn pile of them lying there waiting to be taken seriously.
Was there a deeper connection between Peter and Heartstone, one that hadn’t been ended by Peter himself over twenty years ago? Gabe hated feeling like the odd guy out, which he totally was on the island. He was the new arrival. The social history of the island was a murky unknown to him, which put him at a disadvantage. If Gabe was going to figure out who killed Peter Vale before the cops decided Gabe had been the one to off him, he needed to act fast.
Know your audience, Chance.
How many times had his mother said that? Too many to count. Heidi had been incredibly successful because shealwayshad done her homework.Always. Heidi Karne did not barge into a situation without knowing the net worth of everyone present, who they were romantically and monetarily involved with, and what their weakest points were.
Gabe had barged in. Admittedly, he’d been in a bit of a hurry. But still, he’d violated Heidi’s rule number one. He did not know enough.
He glanced around the cabin; he desperately needed a notebook and something to write with. He was also wishing he’d bought a phone with more bells and whistles, but the one he’d gone with was basic and had no internet capabilities. Staring at the almost useless thing, he snorted.
“What was I thinking?”
He’d been thinking it was the best way to stay out of trouble.
And look where that got you. Still in trouble.
If anyone had told him that by the end of the year, Gabe would be living on a sketchy sailboat with no internet and no laptop, not even a fancy coffee maker, he would have laughed his ass off. And yet, here he was.
Pulling his parka back on and sliding his feet into his boots, Gabe stepped back out onto the pier. It was colder than when he’d returned; the slush had turned to snow and was starting to stick. It was postcard pretty, but being a Northwesterner, Gabe did not trust it. Maybe folks were used to snow around here. Maybe it wouldn’t start to melt by morning and turn the roads into sheets of ice.
Carefully, he made his way down the dock and across the road to the store.
A guyaround his age was working the checkout counter. There were no signs of the younger folk who’d been working his last few visits.
“Evening,” Gabe said. He got a nod in return.
“Can I help you find something?” the man asked.
“I’m in need of a notebook or pad of paper, and something to write with,” Gabe replied, making his way down the aisle toward the checkout.
The guy narrowed his eyes and bit the inside of his lip, clearly thinking. Now that he was close enough, Gabe could read his name tag:Barry.
“Ah, you must be the new guy,” Barry said, coming out from behind the counter.
“That’s me, the new guy.” Funny that he’d had that thought before making the short trip over from the marina. “I’m Gabriel Karne.”
And no angel.
Thanks, Mom.
“Barry Dawson,” Barry replied, extending his hand. “Welcome to Heartstone.”
After quickly shaking hands, Barry directed Gabe toward the VHS and DVD library. “I think Mercy might have some stuff like that stocked over there. I’ve seen coloring books. For game nights and the like. In general, locals don’t shop here for school supplies.”
“Thanks.”
And that was how Gabe ended up with a glitter-encrusted Hello Kitty notebook and matching pink pen.
“Pretty sure Mercy ordered those when Brooklyn was wild about that cat. Everything in our house was pink.” He shook his head. “They’ve been on the shelf for a few years. I’ll give it to you half off.”
Since he was there already, Gabe grabbed a quart of ice cream from the freezer and a couple of apples for the morning. Why not live it up a bit? Lonely Street, a black cherry double-chocolate brownie ice cream – part of Jewel Creamery’s new Angsty and Emo series — was a much better choice than the six-pack of IPA he’d turned his back on. Except for a couple of times the last week or so, he hadn’t craved alcohol much since he stopped drinking, at least not enough to give in. Previously, he’d tried The Licorice Experience, which had been amazing, and fancy-as-fuck ice cream, he’d discovered, was better than getting drunk.
“Thanks, Barry.”
“Any time. You know where we are.”
