Bailey stared down at the lifeless man, emotions colliding inside her. She felt an uneven mix of anxiety, dread and forewarning that she just couldn’t shake. Now there was a dead body that had washed up outside of the Carter house.
Things weren’t going to get better. Not until the information was found. Not until the bad guys were behind bars.
There was no going back and no hoping that things would work themselves out or that these people would go away. And that thought made her feel off balance.
They called the sheriff, and he arrived at the scene fifteen minutes later.
“So, you have no idea who this man is?” Sheriff Davis asked.
Ed shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before.”
“And you, Bailey?” The sheriff turned toward her. His eyes were shielded by his sunglasses, but she’d always known the sheriff to be a fair man. He was simply investigating this death now. She knew there would be no accusation in his gaze.
That was what she tried to tell herself, at least.
Things like dead bodies washing ashore just didn’t happen here on Smuggler’s Cove. This would be the story of the decade, maybe even the century.
She still clutched her throat, unable to get the image of the man out of her mind. “No, I have no idea. He looks a little like that man who was working down at the docks, doesn’t he?”
Ed looked closer. “Now that you mention it, he kind of does.”
Bailey shook her head, resisting the urge to cry. “It’s hard to tell. He’s awfully swollen.”
“You have a name for this dockworker?”
“I think it was Arnold. I thought he was watching me one day while we were down there and when we tried to talk to him about it, he ran,” Bailey explained.
The sheriff bent down toward the rumpled heap of a man, who wore a black coat with jeans and boots. There was clearly a bullet hole going through his temple. Was this the man from the docks? She couldn’t be sure. Even if it was him, why was he dead? What had happened? Did this relate in some way to everything else that was going on?
Using a pen, the sheriff opened the man’s jacket. From where Bailey stood, she saw a wallet peeking out from an inside pocket. The sheriff pulled on some gloves and carefully pulled it out. As he opened the fold, something fluttered to the ground. A paper. Maybe a photo.
Bailey stepped closer, anxious to see what it was.
She gasped when the object came into focus.
It was a picture.
Of Ed.
The sheriff looked up at the two of them. “You sure you don’t want to revise your earlier statement?”
Thoughts collided inside Bailey’s head. Ed had been outside this morning. He had a gun. He’d probably used that gun in precarious situations before.
Could Ed have killed that man?
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Just an hour earlier, she’d been longing for forever with the man. Or, at least, the possibility of it. She’d been feeling things she hadn’t felt in years and was beginning to trust.
Now, with one picture, all of that started to vanish.
You’re being ridiculous, Bailey, she scolded herself. There’s probably another explanation for this. Maybe someone is trying to frame Ed.
“Sheriff, we didn’t get back here until late yesterday afternoon,” Ed said. “Bailey and I both were checked into a hospital because of a boating accident, so they can verify my presence there. Bailey and I were here for the rest of the evening, trying to get my father’s estate in order.”
“And this morning?” Sheriff Davis pulled his sunglasses down, his gaze clearly showing that he meant business.
“The man has been dead for longer than today.” He pointed to the body. “He’s waterlogged, rigor mortis has set in. This crime didn’t happen this morning.”
“And what did you say you did for a living again?”
Ed didn’t flinch. “I’m a lawyer.”
“And you know all about dead bodies how?”
Ed shrugged. “Watching crime dramas on TV? I don’t know. Everyone knows that information.”
He was doing a good job playing as if he didn’t know. He was good at skirting the truth. Certainly he had to be in his line of work.
“How about you, Bailey?” The sheriff turned toward her. “Did you know that?”
Panic raced through her. Guilt flashed through her that, only minutes before, she’d been questioning Ed’s guilt. “He...he has good points, Sheriff. My guess, based on my experience as a nurse, is that this man has been dead for several hours, and out to sea for longer than that.”
“And the fact that he washed up here?” the sheriff continued.
Bailey shrugged. “It could have happened anywhere on the island, really. The tide just happened to be working against us and washed him up here.”
Sheriff Davis held up the picture. “How did your picture end up in his wallet, then?”
Ed shook his head. “I wish I could tell you that. I have no idea. Like I said, if this is the man from the docks, then I’ve never spoken with him.”
* * *
A few hours later, Bailey finally found some time by herself and she called her sister. She climbed up to the widow’s walk, her favorite place, to clear her head. She nestled down on the lone bench and held her breath, waiting for Lauren to answer and making a mental note to water the spider plant sometime that day.
When her sister’s voice finally sounded across the line, Bailey let out a long, relieved sigh. “How are you, Lauren?”
“Busy as ever, but we’re doing okay. How about you? You coming back for a visit anytime soon?”
“I’m trying to wrap things up here. As soon as I’m done, I’ll come for a visit.” She glanced out the widow’s walk and saw the police were still there collecting evidence. The horrors of the past week still made her head spin. How had everything spun out of control?
“Your patient must have left a lot of loose ends. I didn’t think this was in your job description.”
“It’s not. Officially, at least. But someone’s got to do it, and I’m already here. Besides, I don’t mind.” Originally she wanted to help for Mr. Carter’s sake. But now she knew Ed, and she wanted to help him.
“Did the man’s son ever show up?” Lauren asked.
Ed’s picture flashed in her mind. “He did. I’ve been helping him.”
“Would serve him right it he had to do it all by himself. That’s what he deserves for missing his own father’s funeral.”
Bailey’s cheeks flushed. That was what she’d thought at one time, also. “He actually had a decent excuse for not being here, and he felt terrible about it.”
Her sister paused. “Wow, what’s that in your voice? I want to say compassion, but that’s not quite it. Is Mr. Carter’s son handsome, by chance?”
“Lauren!” Bailey’s cheeks heated even more. “Yes, he is. But that’s not why I’m defending him. You know me better than that.”
“You’re right, sis. You’re not superficial. You always see the best in people, for that matter. Speaking of which, I got the strangest knock at my door the other day.”
Familiar apprehension stretched across her shoulders. “Is that right? Who was it?”
“It was some guy who worked for the city and he was surveying all the yards in the neighborhood for something. Anyway, he said he used to know you.”
Familiar tension filled her. “How did he know who you were? We have different last names now that you’re married. Plus, I’ve never lived in Florida.”
“I know. Weird, right? He was a real friendly guy. We just started talking. He said we look alike. Isn’t that crazy?”
Her sister was a petite brunette. “That’s crazy. But, all that said, I have no idea who you’re talking about. Is the world that small that someone I dated in North Carolina is now down in Florida?”
“He said his name was Vince.”
“I don’t ever remember dating a Vince. And I would remember.”
“Let’s see if this rings any bells. He was super tall. Probably six-three. He looked like he works out, he had light brown hair, kind of spiky, and a killer smile.”
If her sister only realized the implications of that last cliché. The only person who fit that description was Ed’s friend Micah. He had said he’d just gotten in from out of town. Could he be the person at the CIA who was in on this?
“Bailey? You there?”
Bailey snapped back to the present. “Nope. He still doesn’t ring any bells. I don’t think I’ve ever dated anyone who fits that description.”
“Maybe it’ll come to you while you sleep tonight. A college boyfriend? Blind date? I don’t know. He couldn’t have been making it up. He knew too much about you.”
Bailey’s throat tightened even more. “Did he? Like what?”
“For one thing, he knew you were in Smuggler’s Cove now, so he must be someone you’ve spoken with in the past year.”
Her heart pounded in her ears. She forced her voice to sound light. “Maybe he was that guy I met at a picnic right before I left. I, uh, I didn’t know him well, but I didn’t get good vibes from him. If he comes back, I’d stay away from him, Lauren.”
She prayed her sister would understand.
Bailey knew the truth—the man was one of the bad guys, and he clearly wanted Bailey to know exactly what his reach was.
Those threats weren’t empty; this man fully planned on carrying out his mission unless Bailey did exactly what he said.