I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. That’s why he looked familiar. It was Zach McConnell. Jason Holt’s co-writer.
What on earth was he doing on Daybreak?
“Jason Holt. The writer,” I said, trying to keep it together. “Such a tragedy, what happened.”
Zach shook his head. “I can’t even. I mean…” he trailed off. “He was my writing partner.”
“That’s right. Zach McConnell,” I said, snapping my fingers, pretending I’d just made the connection.
His face brightened, just a little. “You knew?”
“Yes, I kept up with all his books. And the ones you did together,” I lied, praying he wouldn’t ask me which was my favorite. “And the movies of course. It’s an honor to meet you. So what are you thinking we have of Jason’s?”
“So, I heard he was working here,” Zach began. Then he stopped and kind of grimaced. “Forgive me, but this is kind of complicated. Jason had never changed his emergency contact information from Lexie. She called to tell me. Anyway, I got here as fast as I could. Lucky, too. Made it in yesterday before they shut the ferry down. I wanted to come to pick up Jason’s things, you know? Things that he probably wouldn’t have wanted her to … well. You know. And some of his work-related items are missing from his room. He’d mentioned he’d been working here while he was in town, and I was wondering if he may have left anything?”
I was trying to process what he was saying. Lexie was Jason’s emergency contact, and she’d called Zach. But they were both here, and he didn’t seem to know she’d come to pick up Zach’s stuff. It didn’t make sense. And what did he mean, Jason left something here?
Then I remembered. I watched the scene play out in my head again: Grandpa escorting Thea out of the cafe, coming back to offer me words of comfort. Bending over to pick up a notebook off the floor.
“Yours?” he had asked.
Then he’d tossed it into the lost and found bin. And I’d completely forgotten about it.
I tried not to look in that direction. I don’t know why I didn’t just point to the box and tell this guy to go to town, but something told me not to. At least not until I’d had a chance to check it out.
What if there was a clue in there?
I pretended to think. “I don’t believe so,” I said. “We clean up every day after the cafe closes, and we would’ve noticed. Especially a computer. And we’re not very busy this time of year, so…”
“Are you sure?” Zach persisted. “It might not be a computer. A folder, a … notebook, perhaps? Could it possibly have been turned over to the authorities?”
I shook my head. “Not without my knowledge. I’m the owner, and I’m the one out here most of the time. It wouldn’t have snuck by me.”
“I see,” Zach said. He looked disappointed and … upset. Or something.
What was going on here? Who was the rightful person to collect Holt’s things, anyway? Did Lexie know he was here? I wondered what Zach was here to make sure she didn’t take. Like maybe a book they were working on? Maybe they were working on a new project and Holt had been updating him on his progress.
But none of those thoughts made their way to my face—or out of my mouth, luckily. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” I said. “And I’m terribly sorry about your friend. Will you be finishing the book?”
Zach looked at me, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I just thought … since you were looking for his work papers,” I said. “At least, I’m guessing they were work related, right? Were you guys working on a new book? I hope you finish it. It’s so sad to think we might not be able to read any of his words anymore.” I wondered if I was laying it on too thick, but Zach looked flattered.
“Oh, of course I’ll finish it. And I know. It won’t be the same without his touch the whole way through.” He glanced down at the floor, scuffed his boot against my carpet. “He didn’t have a chance to send me his latest draft before … you know.”
“Yeah.” We were both silent for a moment, thinking about this.
“Well. Thank you,” Zach said. “I appreciate your time.” He turned toward the door.
“Zach?” I said, before he could slip out. “I hope this isn’t inappropriate to ask at a time like this, but … could I have a picture with you?”
His whole face lit up. So much for inappropriateness. “Of course,” he said. “Happy to.”
“Great.” I pulled out my phone and stood next to him. He slipped an arm around my waist, squeezed a little bit. I snapped the picture fast. “Thanks,” I said, stepping away. “So, hey, what was the book about?”
He was still feeling proud of himself for getting asked to take a fan pic. He glanced at me distractedly. “What?”
“The book you guys were working on,” I said. “What was it about?”
“Oh. It was a mystery,” Zach said.
“Well, yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “That’s what you guys wrote, right?”
“Yeah. Course,” Zach said. “That’s what we wrote. I don’t want to give too much away right now. I have to see where the book was heading with all his research. So if you do come across anything of his, please call me.” He slipped a card into my hand. “Thanks for your time, Maggie.” He stepped out and shut the door behind him.
“Maggie?” I muttered. “Seriously? And how could I forget about the notebook? What the heck is wrong with me?”
I went to the front door, opened it, and checked to make sure McConnell was gone. He was. I locked the door and headed for the lost and found bin. I dug around under a recently added scarf and some other miscellany. Pulled the scarf out so nothing obstructed my view.
And stared in dismay.
The notebook wasn’t there.