Page 71 of Fast Currents
Clay’s truck drew up outside the studio, and I dashed across the rainy sidewalk to slip inside.
His slow grin as he took in my damp hair and scowl softened something in the region of my heart. It was impossible to stay irritated when he looked at me like that. He didn’t deserve my lousy mood.
“Hey, honey. Good day?”
I leaned across the bench, drawn by the need for comfort, the earthy scent of petrichor and his soap battling for my attention. Who was I kidding? It wasn’t even a fight with Clay in the mix. He brushed my lips in a quick kiss, smiling against my mouth when he drew away, only to have me seek to prolong our connection.
“Longday,” I corrected when we broke apart.
“Let me guess: fifty-seven text message interruptions about Chaz and Island Muse?” he asked, the hint of humor in his voice. “There’s nothing like a small-town gossip network.”
“As soon as the studio’s closure isWhat’s New, Friday Harbor-official, things will die down, but between Anya, Vi, and Rae all seeking updates, Janine checking in, and Gran badgering me, I almost threw my phone in the glory hole furnace.”
The entire island seemed alive with chatter about Chaz. When he disappeared, the studio shut down. Word was that Megan claimed Chaz had a family emergency on the mainland.
“Have you heard from Agent Harris?”
“The DEA and the Parks Service aren’t officially cooperating on this one.”
I arched a brow. Unofficially, we’d helped Nick a lot. He’d better not be holding out on us. Part of my frustration came from having no real updates for my friends. We were just as much outsiders as they were.
“But since the Parks Service has a financial interest in Island Muse, he did follow up. They served their warrant and seized a bunch of records. Want to guess whatelsethey found?”
I pinched his side. “Spill, Robertson.”
“Sheets of blank prescription labels and pill sorting and packaging supplies.”
“They think it was drugs?”
“They do.”
“Huh. What does that mean for the parks fundraiser? Will they still release the funds to you?”
Clay dipped his chin. “Eventually. Nick says they’ve already brought Megan in for questioning once, but predictably, she lawyered up. There’s a lot we don’t know yet.”
“Do you think Chaz will come back?” I tugged at my bottom lip. If it were me, I’d be gone for good. Find a nice island somewhere warm and disappear. I snorted. Then again, that was what he’d left behind.
“I think if they issue a warrant, he won’t be able to hide forever. Either way, I think Island Muse is done.”
I rolled my lips together. While it felt good to be right about Chaz, it also felt wrong. We’d lost an important part of our local art community. Island Muse’s closure would have a ripple effect on a lot of the local artisans.
Clay drove us home, easily handling the sparse traffic downtown. The farther into fall we got, the fewer visitors the island attracted.
My phone buzzed, and I winced at the caller ID: Gran. Dammit.
Gran: Do you have Janine’s #?
Immediately suspicious, I tapped outwhy?
Gran: I want to make her a job offer.
Lucy: To do WHAT?
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified for Janine. But if anyone could survive working with Gran, it might be Janine.
Gran: Run Island Muse. I just bought it.
I blinked, reading the message twice.
