“We appreciate it,” Willow said to Glory and elbowed Raine.
“Yes,” Raine said. “Thank you.”
Glory pushed a button on her landline, then picked up her nail file. Raine took Willow by the hand, pulling her down the hall. “This place gives me hives.”
They passed the empty mayor’s office and the conference room that had a paper taped next to the door listing the dates the room would be unavailable. Monthly town board meeting. IPD officer and all staff meeting. She wondered who else would be included in the category of staff other than Glory.
Raine gave her another tug.
“I’m coming. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
Raine stopped short and craned her head to meet Willow’s gaze. “You sounded like Mom there. It’s creepy.”
“I most certainly did not. It’s just that Matt is my friend and a really nice guy.”
“Sure he is, and he’s here to make all sorts of changes for the better of Ibis Island. I bet he’ll be there when laws are broken, enforce sea turtle codes, and show his face once in a while. Everything is rainbows and unicorns.”
A few yards in front of them, a male voice cleared his throat. Matt stood in the doorway to the chief of police office. An empty nail stuck out of the center of the door where incarcerated Chief Robert’s nameplate used to hang. He wasn’t in uniform like Chief Roberts always seemed to be. Matt wore what she thought of as his detective gear. Dress pants. Buttoned-down shirt. No tie. Gun holster. The badge at his waist still had the letters SPPD engraved in it.
He tapped his finger on it. “New one comes today.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “How did I get so lucky as to have a Clearwater and a Martinez on my first day?”
Like she did with Glory, she opened her arms. “Welcome to Ibis Island, Chief Osborne.” She counted in her head, giving him a full three-second hug.
When she pulled away, she looked to Raine and even though she wanted desperately to smirk, willed her expression to that of innocence.
Rolling her eyes, Raine gave him the same hug, albeit shorter, that she’d given Glory.
Matt cleared his throat and said, “Come in, come in. I’ll make room.”
There was plenty of room, just no guest chairs. The same boxes that had been stacked in his St. Pete’s office were now stacked in this one. She noted the differences from when Chief Roberts resided here. The stuffed fish were missing. Matt had hung diplomas—plural—and certificates of achievement as well as a few newspaper articles that she would read some time, only not when they needed to talk about her brother.
“What can I do for you ladies?”
Raine folded her arms and cocked a hip.
Matt nodded. “Let me get something for you to sit on.”
“Be nice,” Willow growled when he stepped out.
“Let’s get this over with.”
He came back dragging two padded chairs. “There. Those look good right there.” He held his hand out for her and Raine to sit. “Can I get you some water? Coffee?”
“That’s kind of you but no.”
He sat in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. “I’ve seen Willow,” he said as he looked to Raine. “But, I haven’t had a chance to tell you how sorry I am about the delay in getting your brother’s remains back to you.”
“Do you mean former delay, current, or subsequent?” Raine asked.
Matt leaned forward on his elbows. “All of the above, I suppose.”
“That’s not exactly why we’re here,” Willow confessed. “It is likely inconsequential, but this is a small town.”
“We think Seth left a treasure map.” Raine swung an ankle on her knee. “This isn’t big city St. Pete’s, Chicago, or Reno. Small town means someone else who wants to blow it up to something bigger than it is. Small town people can do that.”
Matt moved one of his hands to his chin and the other on a thigh. “Okay,” he said, dragging out the word, then grinned.
“It’s a poem,” Willow explained.
Matt dropped his brows. “How about you tell me about this poem map.”
“It would make more sense if I started at the beginning.” She clasped her fingers together and squeezed. “My parents kept three pieces of furniture that belonged to our brother, two dressers and a desk. Seth and my father refinished or made them.”
Matt nodded. His expression was patient and comfortable, yet she couldn’t quite read him.
“Taped to the outside was a poem. It belonged to Seth.” Deciding to qualify, she added, “It’s not signed, but it’s in his handwriting.” She unlocked her fingers and waved her hand between Raine and herself. “We all know his handwriting well.”
“Taped to the outside?” he interrupted.
It sounded worse saying it out loud in a police department. “Seth was eccentric like that.”
“I see,” he said as a statement. “And, you think it’s a map?”
“It is a Haiku.”
“A Haiku?”
“Three lines. The first and last have five syllables, the middle seven. It rarely rhymes.” Why did she add that last part?
“I see,” he said again.
She appreciated his patience. She was a good judge of character and this was a good man.
“Her Legacy,” Willow said.
Raine set her hand on top of Willow’s. It was gentle and careful.
“Seth as well as our entire family,” Willow said. “We were raised to embrace nature, animals, and the land. Our parents were…are flower children. Becoming parents as teenagers, they struggled financially. My mother went to school in the day and my father in the evening. They learned to live off the land.”
Raine rubbed her thumb over the back of Willow’s hand.
“He took pictures as an art and a hobby. Land and underwater animals. He snorkeled. Could hold his breath under water for fifteen minutes. Honestly,” she qualified. “Using sea shells, he created sculptures—some of them he framed—of the wildlife around the island.”
“He had a reputation, well earned, of chasing rainbows. He graduated with a degree in nutrition. He tried to sell his photos, but that didn’t take. Then, his sculptures but that was a failure as well.”
Raine kept her gaze on Matt but wrapped her fingers around Willow’s hand. She would be forever grateful.
“He lived inland as a delivery boy to pay his bills, and his next obsession was Luciana Bezan’s dowry. I was there when Zoe told you the legend, and I expect you have a good memory.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Seth lived it. Earned his scuba certification so he could stay down longer, search longer and deeper. People talked about him behind his back.”
“Behind our backs,” Raine added. “As the PPH, I can tell you, it’s true.”
“Primary permit holder.”
Raine turned her eyes to Matt and pulled her chin back. “You’ve been doing your homework. So, Willow finds this poem. Her Legacy. The wet uncharted. The cornerstone that is Home. The under under.”
Willow shut her eyes and sighed as waves of warmth spread over her. She’d memorized it.
“Dane is a professional treasure hunter. Smithsonian professional. He thinks it’s a map. We believe him. We just don’t want it…don’t think it,” she corrected, “should make a difference in the trial.”
Matt leaned back in his chair. “Ah.” He turned and looked out the tiny window to the side of his desk. “Where would one find this poem?”
“Are you going to take it?” Raine asked.
“It is not evidence at this time.”
It was a non-answer but felt more like the careful and gentle person she believed was Matt Osborne rather than elusive or dishonest.
Matt leaned forward, folding his hands again. “We have several witnesses who heard Chief Roberts threaten to hurt his wife and anyone she looked at. Miriam has agreed to testify. Torching Dane’s place with her inside as well as your sister, since he saw Zoe as an accomplice, gets him attempted murder one. As far as your brother is concerned, we have a body, the murder weapon, and motive. We can place Roberts at the scene. I’ve seen suspects put away for less. What we don’t have is a confession or physical proof linking the murder weapon to Roberts. He’s still working on denial. He’s getting out. We’re all going to lose our jobs. Blah, blah, blah.”
Willow set her fingertips on Matt’s folded hands. “I think Zoe could get through to him.”
“Your sister has been through a traumatizing ordeal.” He squinted and pulled his hands away. “You don’t seem like the type to put her in harm’s way.”
She knew what he meant. No physical danger, but emotional danger could be so much more.
Raine didn’t move from her spot leaning back in her chair. “You don’t know the big picture.” She slung an ankle on her knee. “I’ve got the chief’s back on this one, sister.”
Willow craned her head. “Since when have you ever?”
Raine ignored her. “Zoe carries more on her shoulders in the form of guilt for the death of our brother than she does fear from the fire. He was a newly certified diver. Zoe agreed to be his diving partner and didn’t show.”
“Zoe didn’t kill her brother,” Matt said.
“I get that,” Raine agreed. “Willow is the Zen master. Take her.”
He rubbed a single hand along the back of his neck. “Bring in this poem. I’ll take a look.” He held up both hands. “I'll borrow it from you and consider your offer to bring one of your sisters along to an interrogation.”
“Lip service,” Raine said.
He stared at Raine. Awkward silence made Willow shift in her seat. Raine stared back. More awkward silence.
“I tell you what. I think Roberts is guilty. I think the jury’s going to think so. We can say everything is rainbows and unicorns,” Matt said using the term he must have overhead Raine say, “Or we can cast our net wide and get all we can on him.”
He held back. Maybe a lot, but she and Raine had done what they came to do. “The poem is framed and hanging at Luciana’s,” Willow said. “How about a picture? I can—”
“I’ll stop by,” he interrupted and smiled.
Liam put the pontoon in reverse and gunned the engine enough to pull the end alongside the dock. Over the noise of the water that smacked between the pier and boat as it bumped against the buoys, he announced, “The bathrooms are inside the doors and to the right, there.” He smiled at the ten eco tour passengers.
Lily was his assistant. That day, he was especially grateful for her work ethic and conscientiousness. As a college student at U of F, she was one of those kids that made a person think there was hope for the future of the world. He was distracted, and she took up the slack. No grumbling. No complaining. Grabbing the dock, she secured the back side of the boat before tidying up for the evening tour.
Liam stepped out to secure the front as he addressed the tourists. “Remember to check for your belongings, and thank you for using Sun Trips Touring.”
As the last passenger crossed the mini-dock, Lily asked, “You okay, boss?”
Liam nodded, but it was a lie. “Tonight, we open the addition at Luciana’s. Just got a lot on my mind.”
Was the addition good enough? What would Henry think?
“Grand opening open?”
“No,” he said, dragging out the O. “That’s next weekend. We’re taking down the plastic and plywood tonight for family, friends.”
Lily looked at him like he was a little off, but he didn’t expect her to understand. Lily didn’t do the renovation or have fuzzy feelings for the owner.
“Why don’t you get going, then? I can finish up here.”
Liam opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. “Thank you.”
When should he get there, he asked himself as he wandered toward his Ford Ranger. What should he wear? Why was he thinking about what to wear?
A fist pushed his shoulder. “Earth to Liam,” Zoe said.
He pulled his gaze from the gravel and looked up.
“Hey, Zo.”
She was on her way in as he was on his way out. Stopping, she tightened the cowboy hat that served as her visor.
Liam decided on polite conversation. “How many do you have tonight?”
“Ten.” She rolled her eyes and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “I can smell the liquor.”