Willow stepped through the front doors of the St. Petersburg Police Department and paused. A U.S. flag stood on one side of the entrance and a Florida state flag on the other. People in uniforms with polished, black shoes marched through the long hallways and open areas. She knew they were police uniforms, but her imagination saw casualty notification officers wearing military dress greens.
Her head spun enough to make her reach out and place a hand on her sister. As she wrapped her fingers around the part of her baby sister’s arm that wasn’t bandaged, Willow took a deep, cleansing breath. She used the meditation tools her mother taught her and her siblings since childhood, and imagined she was kicking her fins along the floor of the Gulf rather than walking into a government building with a Volkswagen-sized bronze plaque at her feet that read, “To Serve and Protect.”
Glancing over, she found her sister grinning the warmest of grins through strands of straight blonde hair. Zoe always understood.
Willow spoke low. “You’re not even fully healed from Chief Roberts trying to kill you,” Willow said, lifting Zoe’s bandaged arm. “I should be holding you up. Not the other way around.”
As she rotated her wrist so that her engagement ring was inches from Willow’s nose, Zoe smiled. “There are flowers in the weeds, Willow. We caught our brother’s killer. That’s what matters. And, we’re sisters. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you to enter a government building, even if it is police rather than military.” Zoe pulled her toward reception. “We’ll hold each other up.”
They approached the large desk in the center of the area. Offering no greeting, the short woman with a jet-black bob lifted her brows at them. Willow saw both a challenge and a lovely distraction. Since a plethora of extenuating circumstances may have put the woman in her obvious mood, Willow offered a “Good morning.” Looking at her name badge, she smiled her warmest smile. “Your name badge is backward.”
The woman stared at Willow before glancing down, then flipped the name tag around.
“Officer Lorenzo,” Willow said. “How lovely. How is your morning going so far?”
The muscles in the woman’s face melted. “Could be better.” She pulled her chin back. “Thank you for asking.”
Zoe said, “We’re here to see Detective Osborne, please.”
“What can I say you are here to see him about?”
“We’re personal friends,” Zoe interrupted. “Zoe and Willow. He’ll know.”
The woman lifted a landline receiver and ran her finger down a list of extension numbers.
Zoe leaned her head toward Willow’s ear. “You are the Zen master.”
Willow thought Zoe deserved that title this morning, but decided that arguing the point would be ungrateful.
“Detective Osborne,” the receptionist said into the receiver. “There is a Willow and a Zoe here to see you. They say they—yes, of course.” The officer hung up. “He told me to send you up. Have a nice day.”
“Good to meet you, Officer.” Willow lifted her hand in a wave as they headed for the elevators.
Zoe pressed the elevator button. The soft music helped soothe Willow’s nerves. In a building like this, she assumed it was purposeful.
Stepping into the upstairs hall, Zoe said, “I half expected Matt to be waiting when the elevator doors opened.”
The area smelled of a mixture of bleach and freshly vacuumed carpet. Willow nodded to a cluster of men in dress pants and buttoned-down shirts who glanced in their direction.
“His office is this way,” Zoe said, pulling Willow along.
“Good morning, ladies,” Matt said as Willow stepped into his office, followed by Zoe. He wore the same type of clothes as the cluster of men in the hallway. Dress pants, these were charcoal gray, and a buttoned-down shirt, this one an earthy purple. Must be the uniform, except he also wore a black gun holster over his shoulder and a set of handcuffs at his side.
He didn’t stop arranging his boxes as he spoke, which wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as the fact that he had boxes to arrange.
“Good morning, Matt,” Zoe said. “Thank you for taking your time to see us.”
Willow sat in the farthest guest chair. “How does this moment find you?”
Folding a side of a box into itself, he answered, “Good. What can I do for two of my favorite Ibis Island girls?”
“Did you get fired?” Zoe blurted.
Matt grinned a toothy smile but didn’t stop what he was doing. He had a lovely smile. Smart and warm. She could see why Zoe was such good friends with him.
He ran a hand over his military-tight haircut and answered, “Transferred, not fired, but thanks again,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.
Willow noted his box packing was as neat and tidy as his haircut. And, his office, for that matter. Everything was labeled and piled in straight, equal stacks. She made a mental note to refrain from ever inviting him to her home for a welcome-to-the-island tea since it was rarely neat or tidy.
That didn’t seem to be a good enough answer for Zoe. “Where to?”
“Funny you should ask,” he said and sat in his chair. “I’ve been assigned to serve as the Ibis Island interim chief of police.”
Zoe grasped her neck like she was choking. Willow understood the reaction, but Matt might not. “Forgive my sister, Matt. She, um, likes you is all.”
Zoe’s wide open emerald green eyes turned to glare at Willow.
“Ah,” Willow said. “Let me rephrase. Zoe thinks highly of you, as a friend, of course, and the precarious situation you’ve been placed in.”
Matt folded his hands on his desk and leaned in. “I’ve worked as a detective in Reno, Chicago, and here at St. Pete’s. I hope you will have confidence in my ability to serve as chief for however long.”
Willow explained. “Zoe, and frankly myself, don’t doubt your chiefing abilities. We simply feel for any chief of police who has to work with our sister. And, since Raine is the primary permit holder of Ibis Island, that means she pretty much runs the place.”
“Ah, yes. I’m not sure what a primary permit holder is. I’ll have to check that out, but I do remember Raine’s issue with authority. I think I can handle her.”
Willow’s shoulders fell at the visual.
“I do have a long list to finish by this afternoon. What can I help you with?”
“We want our skull,” Zoe said, then dropped her chin and added, “And, my camera.”
Nodding, Matt said, “Ah, yes, I should have known. I am sorry for your loss and realize your desire to have your brother’s remains returned to you.”
“And, my camera,” Zoe repeated.
“However,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Until the case is over—
“Over,” Zoe interrupted. “The murderer is in prison—”
“Jail,” Matt corrected. “And awaiting trial. Now, until the potential sentencing—”
Zoe’s face reddened. “Potential.” She held up her bandaged arms, palms up.
This wasn’t going quite as Willow had planned. In this scenario, Zoe was meant to be the easier sister.
Matt continued, “I know you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the trial.”
“He was caught red-handed,” Zoe argued.
Willow stood, causing both of them to pause. “We understand, Matt.” She looked him straight in the eye. “And we trust you.” Mostly. “Thank you for all you’ve done. You are a good friend. Please let us know as soon as we can allow our mother to make arrangements for cremation.”
Matt rubbed a single hand across the back of his neck. “I am guessing it will be months, maybe several of them, before you get your brother’s remains back. I am deeply sorry.”
Nodding, Willow forced a smile and held out her hand. As they shook, she placed the palm of her other hand over their joined fingers and looked him in the eye once again. “Trust,” she repeated. “Best wishes on your move, and welcome to Ibis Island.”
Liam’s knees pressed against the dash, almost crushing the dozen orange carnations he bought for Willow’s mother. “Are you sure this is okay?” he asked as Willow turned onto Riley Road. “This seems more like a family thing.”
“You are family,” she said. “And Chloe insisted,” she added as she bumped her smart car over the entrance to her parents’ drive.
He squinted in her direction. The long blonde hair covered part of her face, but he could still see her cheeks. “I know that grin. It’s not even a grin. It’s a smirk. You’re smirking. I want to know why.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said as her nose grew before his eyes.
Movement from the roof of the single-story home had him craning his head under the visor to see if it was one of the four female goats that spent their days grazing on the thatch on the roof. No stilts for the Clearwater home. It had been grandfather claused in when the city voted that all new construction homes be set on stilts. The thatch Henry grew up there bent over in the island breeze, but no goats were to be found. Henry had already ushered them down the ramp for the evening, or they were lying in the grasses and couldn’t be seen from the ground.
The bright yellow stucco walls of the home had begun to chip at the edges, exposing the bright orange paint from last year. “The hollyhocks and honeysuckle are still in full bloom,” he said, mostly thinking out loud.
Willow tapped the brakes, bringing the car to a stop. She craned her neck, exposing her beautiful blue eyes, and smiled. “A man who knows his flowers.”
Without telling them to, his shoulders fell and he wished he’d brought Harmony a nice bottle of wine or a plant as a dinner gift. Maybe a drill or a sander. “What? Nah. It’s just that it’s late in the season, and they look pretty, I mean nice, I mean good, damn it.” He tried to swing an ankle on his knee and cock an elbow on the windowsill, but the car was so damned small and he was so tall and skinny, the juggling made the whole situation worse. Yet, it made Willow’s smile change from up-to-something into the kind that reached her eyes. Since that didn’t generally happen with Willow, the embarrassment was well worth it.
She pulled her car around the pickup that belonged to her older sister, Raine, and parked in the spot in the yard next to the palm tree where only a smart car would fit.
“Dane’s here,” he said as he spotted his friend’s ostentatious Jeep. “Glad I won’t be the only non-family member. Unless engaged counts as family.”
Her smile turned into a frown. “You are family,” she said. “And, I could sort of use you as a buffer for when I tell my mother it will be months, maybe several of them, before we get Seth’s remains back.”
“Glad to help.” His voice was sarcastic, but he mostly meant it.
Chloe stood on the front porch, rocking on the balls of her feet with her little hands cupped in front of her. Her long hair swung back and forth as she rocked. She was by far the cutest kid he’d ever known and absolutely had to be what Willow was like as a child. Smart, grounded, and full of life.
“The shrimp is waiting for you,” Liam said from the passenger seat.
“She is so not waiting for me,” Willow said as she reached for the flowers. “Here. Let me get those for you.”
Confused at his suddenly empty arms, he climbed out of the torture chamber of a car. Chloe walked a straight line toward him, carrying something as if it were a miniature wedding cake.
“Liam. Liam,” Chloe squealed, ignoring Willow. “Look what I found!” She opened her fingers as she made the last few steps to him.