Matt made Applegate ride in the back. Whatever Matt’s reason for it, Liam was grateful. He wasn’t sure how he would have explained riding in the back of a cruiser to every islander they passed on the way to Yo-Yo.
A full-sized laptop stuck out of the dash, attached to something that looked like a swiveling television stand. Liam thought of it as the mother of all texting and driving but decided against saying so.
“So, PPH?” Matt asked.
“From what I know, every beach or maybe every island has a PPH. This is the person in charge of sea turtle conservation. If the PPH does a good job, the beach or island is awarded grant money and beach nourishment.”
“Beach what?”
“Nourishment. Civilization messes with the beaches. Sand is lost. This is why it’s illegal now to destroy sea oats. They help reduce erosion.”
“I’m not following.”
“Beach nourishment is the process of siphoning sand from offshore and dumping it onto eroded beaches. It takes a lot of enormous equipment and the military. The government will only agree to it if the PPH has a handle on the endangered species.”
“Military?”
“Yep, and it takes millions,” Liam said as they turned into the Yo-Yo parking lot. “That’s Big Joe, there. In the hut.”
It was a mom-and-pop place. Liam couldn’t remember how long Big Joe had owned it. Before Liam’s time, for sure. He kept it small, outdated but with reliable equipment.
At the sight of Matt’s squad car, he came out from around the counter in the hut.
Big Joe was burly, middle-aged, and with deep brown skin and a thick beard. “He could scare away a prize fighter,” Liam explained. “But deep down he’s a pretty good guy. Sucker for his grandkids.”
The windows were down, and Liam stuck his arm out and waved.
“Excuse me, sir,” a young woman in a swim suit cover said as she stepped into Big Joe’s path.
Reluctantly, Big Joe turned his attention to his customer as Matt pulled into one of the six Yo-Yo parking spots.
“How about I introduce you?” Liam suggested.
Matt opened his door. “I was hoping you would say that. Applegate, you wait in the car.”
Big Joe schmoozed the customer. “The gentleman and his friend are due back any minute, miss,” he said as he slipped his thumbs inside the straps of his overalls. “You’re the first in line for those personal water crafts, and I will say they are—”
“Two of the best,” Liam finished for him. “Big Joe, here, won’t steer you wrong.” Liam held out a hand and shook with Joe. Regular shake to a thumb grasp to fingertips and snapped apart.
She seemed convinced and stepped away to the single picnic table waiting area.
Big Joe may have participated in the island handshake, but his eyes remained on Matt. “Man, why are you bringing brass in my parking lot?” Big Joe whispered.
“This is the interim Chief of Police,” Liam answered. “Chief Osborne, this is Big Joe. He owns the place. We need to know who took out one of your boats the day before Ernest.”
“I don’t know the island shake, but it’s good to meet you, Joe.” Matt held out a hand. Joe eyed him before he held out his hand.
Joe scratched his beard. “I don’t remember anyone taking out one of ours that day. You sure?”
He was lying; Liam was sure of it. He didn’t know the first thing about confidentiality and hadn’t asked if Matt needed a warrant. “Did you hear about Chief Roberts?”
“I don’t live in a hole in the ground.” Joe crossed his arms over his substantial belly.
“Then, you know the prime suspect in the murder of Seth Clearwater is no longer.”
The muscles in Joe’s face fell as he connected the dots. “The Clearwaters may be kooky, but they’re good people. That stuff doesn’t happen on Ibis. Not Seth or Roberts. Let me check my books.”
“Thank you kindly,” Matt said.
Joe walked back to his hut while Liam and Matt waited. Three sets of couples, all young, waited for Yo-Yo equipment at the picnic table.
“I hope that was okay,” Liam said to him. “We didn’t really make a plan.”
“You did great.” Matt nodded. “You’re hired.”
Liam shook his head. “Ha.”
Joe came back sans his records book. “What does this rental have to do with the Clearwaters anyway?”
Matt stepped forward. It was just an inch, but he made his point. “Might be nothing, really. The person or persons who rented your boat last Sunday might have seen something we can use.”
They were losing Joe, even Liam could tell. He shook his head and squinted his eyes.
Matt smiled. “I see that the folks of this island take care of their own. It’s why I asked Liam to join me when we came out to see you. He and Dane are the ones who recognized your boat out on Sunday.”
“I wasn’t working that day,” Joe said as his eyes zoned in on a spot on the page of his appointment book.
“Right.” Liam nodded. “We need to talk to him.”
“Them,” said Big Joe. “The mayor and Oberweiss.”
Two, Liam thought. Not one.
“Why would locals who are avid divers need to rent a boat?”
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation, and that the mayor and owner of our fine island museum will be happy to answer some questions.”
There went Matt again with his homework. He knew Glen Oberweiss owned and managed the island museum.
Willow sat with her legs crossed on the living room floor next to Zoe, who flipped through the pile of bridal magazines she’d checked out from the library.
Zoe turned her head toward Willow’s legs and cringed. “I know that’s called the easy pose in yoga, but it doesn’t look easy. It looks painful.”
Glancing down, Willow shrugged. “It is easy.” She straightened her legs. “You see? You crisscross your legs.” With her good arm, she hoisted her right calf on top of her left knee. “Then, remaining centered, lift one leg on top of the other. It’s okay if your knee pops up. It takes time to train your hips to do this.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Zoe said and flipped through more pages. “I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s always a good thing,” Willow said and wrapped a hand around her knee.
“I think I’m giving up on all of this.”
“What? Are you sure?”
Zoe shook her head. “I don’t mean the ceremony. I mean all of this…stuff. We really aren’t inviting very many people.”
“That’s how it starts,” Willow warned.
“No, really. Just family and a few close friends. I’m cutting our wedding budget to two thousand, donating the extra money Mom and Dad gave us to Turtle Watch.” Zoe looked at her with big eyes.
“Two thousand.” Willow tried to run through the list of things needed for a wedding in her head. How much of it would be missed? “Does this include rings?”
“No. Look.” Zoe set the laptop on Willow’s crossed legs.
On it was a screenshot of a floor-length skirt covered in tulle and a no-sleeve, lacey, short blouse. It was adorable.
“Seventy-five bucks apiece. I’ve already got white sandals.” She flipped to a new screen. “I really only need bouquets for me, Chloe, and the two of you. Some flowers for the men and Mom and Dad.”
She stood, then, and started pacing. “Table decorations are not needed. Tables are not needed. Sit down dinner? Nope. DJ? We can crash Luciana’s and use the juke box.”
“Whoa. Wow. Hold on, there.”
“Why? No! It makes sense.” She burned a path in the carpet with her stomping back and forth. “Why would we start out our marriage in debt for a single day of festivities? This is about a commitment. When did our country decide we need weekend bachelorette parties and party favors and—”
Willow stood, grabbing her with her good arm.
Zoe stopped and turned. “What? Are you okay? What’s the matter?”
“I’m so proud.” She brushed Zoe’s long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Promise me you won’t skimp on the pictures.”
Zoe nodded, deep in thought. “Yes. Pictures are forever. I’ve already made my own invitations. I only need to add a date. It’ll be fun.”
“And, don’t get rid of the cake.”
“All right, but we don’t need a fancy one. Screw the Jones. I don’t need to keep up with anyone. And, I’m not waiting. Dane and I have been trying to figure out how fast we can put all of this together. A minimalist wedding with only close family and friends means we could have it next weekend.”
“Zoe, slow down. I mean it.”
As if she hadn’t spoken, Zoe said, “As long as Dane’s parents can make it from Alaska on this short of notice. Oh, Willow. I know Mom and Dad set aside money for this, but think of what that money could do for Turtle Watch.”
She was literally bouncing. Ignoring Willow, definitely, and bouncing. Or, maybe it was gliding.
Their mother walked in carrying three empty baskets. Willow knew what that meant. Picking herbs, or maybe the last of the tomatoes.
“What money for Turtle Watch?” her mother said as she handed a basket to each of them.
“Hey,” Willow said. “I’m injured.”
“You’re in charge of mint and basil. Use your good arm. The fresh air will help.”
Zoe took the expected basket and draped it over her arm. “I’ve been stressing about this wedding.”
“That generally comes with the territory,” her mother said. “Just ask Willow.”
Flashes went through Willow’s mind. Of Jacob and their young wedding. Of Liam. Heat crept up her neck and over her cheeks.
“Are you okay, dear?” Her mother placed a hand on her arm. “You don’t need to help us if you’re too tired.”
“No, no. Liam is helping Paula close Luciana’s tonight.” After working a scuba dive, she thought and sighed. “No, I can help.” She went to run her fingers through her hair, then remembered her stitches and that awful bump. Willow opened the door to a steamy afternoon and inhaled. She wouldn’t trade one day or season, hot or no, for anywhere else in the world.
Zoe bounced around them, then stopped and turned. “What am I picking?”
“Hollyhocks and honeysuckle.”
“Got you,” Zoe said and took the three stairs at once. “I’m capping my wedding at two thousand.”
“Oh?” her mother said as a question.
It made Willow smile from ear to ear.
“Ah. And, the rest can go to Turtle Watch.” Her mother chose the best lemon balm leaves and placed them in her basket.