Chapter Three

Rucker’s computer also had his Last Will and Testament, along with details for his funeral. He asked to be cremated, the ashes to be spread by “whoever felt they were up for the job.” He had no family, and it seemed he was eager to go out with as little fanfare as possible. Mayor Hood-Colby put together a small ceremony and invited any resident of the island to attend. “Sheriff Callum Rucker dedicated the past three decades to keeping us all safe,” she said, quoted in the newspaper. “He deserves a proper memorial.”

The weather had grown increasingly cold over the three days since his death. The clouds sank lower and the streets were shrouded in a fog that never seemed to lift. There still hadn’t been any snow, but the harbor was starting to look precariously icy in a way that had the ferry captains worried.

Claire woke before dawn the day of Rucker’s memorial, showered, and went back to the files she’d printed out from his computer. She sat with them at the dinner table, with only a nearby lamp casting a pale golden glow over the pages. She lost track of time and jumped when the overhead lights came on. She looked up to see Jodie, still in her robe, approaching.

“I know you came to bed, because I cuddled with you for a while. How long have you been up?”

“Not long.” She saw the grey light outside that revealed the sun had risen on the other side of the weather. She thumped the papers. “Maybe longer than I thought. I’m still trying to fit all these pieces together. Ruck wasn’t exactly a good writer, but you can find the story if you look hard enough. These are months of reports about surveillance. Just watching a group of five or six people who, as far as I can tell, never did anything.”

Jodie sat across from her. “Tell me what you’ve figured out so far.”

Claire pushed her hair out of her face and rearranged the papers in front of her like tarot cards.

“A couple of months ago, Ruck became suspicious of some new people in town. At first, they were staying at the Royal House Inn, but after a couple of days they moved out to another place he either never found or never made a note about. But he knew they were still around because he kept seeing them around town. He has pictures of them.”

Jodie made a grabbing motion with her hands. Claire found the photos and pushed them across the table.

“He was never able to stop them for anything, not even some minor infraction. It says here he stopped to chat with one of them, just a casual welcome to the island sort of conversation, but the guy just made small talk and then said he was in a hurry.”

“So what made him suspicious in the first place? Maybe they’re just a group of guys moving to the island. There’s nothing illegal about keeping to yourself.”

“One of the guys had prison tattoos. He kept them covered up most of the time, but a few of them are hard to hide.” She pointed at the picture of one man with the edge of a neck tattoo exposed by his shirt collar. “Guys with prison tattoos, and guys who hang out with those guys, and they all like keeping to themselves...? That’s enough to be suspicious.”

Jodie said, “Makes sense. These guys are still on the island?”

“As of last week, yes.” She shuffled the papers again. “Ruck saw one of them waiting at the ferry lanes. He met someone who drove off the boat, he got in the car, they headed out of town. Going west on Spring Street.”

“The same road Rucker was on when he died.”

“Yep. He followed them as far as the town limits, but he could tell they’d clocked him. Maybe that’s why he was in his personal vehicle that night instead of a squad car.”

Jodie ran her tongue over her teeth. “So there were guys in town that Rucker thought were suspicious. They were staying somewhere outside of town, but kept coming back for supplies or to meet people coming in on the ferry. Maybe they were ex-cons who just wanted to lie low. Maybe they didn’t like the local cops watching them.”

“Maybe,” Claire said. “But there has to be more than that. Ruck said something big was coming, and he didn’t think he was prepared for when it hit. He must have figured out more than he left here, but where else would be put it? This was his ‘If you’re watching this, I’m dead’ insurance. So why wouldn’t he put all his cards on the table?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to leave it on the station’s computer, for whatever reason. Maybe the information is at his house.” She held up a hand to hold off Claire’s next comment. “Even if it is, it can wait until after the service. You should probably start getting ready.”

Claire sighed. “Yeah. God, I’m not looking forward to this.”

Jodie reached across the table and covered Claire’s hand with hers. “Just one thing at a time. That’s all you have to figure out, okay? And right now, it’s the uniform. Your armor, your sword.”

Claire chuckled and pushed herself up. “Right. I feel like my hair should be in a braid of some sort.”

“I can put your hair in a braid of some sort,” Jodie said.

“Thank you.” She bent down and kissed the top of Jodie’s head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

As she went to dress, she tried to put her unofficial investigation out of her mind. It might have been nothing, the paranoid obsession of a man who had been a cop for most of his life. But Claire had also been a cop for a long time, and she’d learned not to dismiss gut feelings. Especially not when those feelings were coming from a man like Rucker.

If he smelled smoke, there was bound to be a fire somewhere. It was just a matter of how big it might be.

***

The memorial was held in the public meeting room at Town Hall, and Claire was glad to see the room was fairly packed with people. In the absence of family or a casket, she felt like the proxy center of attention and tried to put on an appropriate face for the people who came up to wish her well or ask how she was doing. For the first time since coming to the island, she felt uncomfortable in her uniform. She’d been acting sheriff for a few days now, but that was all formality. She rarely left the office and no one had actually referred to her by the title until this morning. She kept her arm around Jodie’s waist and used her as a life preserver to get her through the sea of people.

Eventually the group was ushered into the main room, and Claire was allowed to take her seat between Randall and Jodie. Randall’s wife was also sitting with them, a lovely woman named Jennifer whose wheelchair meant she had to be at the end of the aisle.

When everyone had settled, a petite brunette in a green plaid pantsuit and big librarian glasses stepped onto the stage. She stood at the podium, smoothed down her notes, and smiled at the group. Claire vaguely recognized her, but only knew for sure who it was when she began speaking.

“Hello, everyone, thank you for coming out. Most of you are used to hearing me without seeing my face, so allow me to introduce myself. Most of you know me as Nadine Butler, the voice of KELF Radio. We’re here to say goodbye to Sheriff Cal Rucker. I was asked to take part not because I talk for a living, but because of what Mr. Rucker meant to me.”

She paused and looked down at the podium, pretending to check her notes. Claire could see she was struggling to control her emotions.

“This island was a very different place not too long ago. I lived most of my life in the closet because I had a job in the public eye, and I was worried about what people might think. I came out by accident, in this very room, with Mr. Rucker standing on this stage. I actually came out to him, but everyone else overheard.

“It was as bad as I’d feared. People wanted me fired from my job. I started losing advertisers. People actually protested outside the station demanding my resignation. Cal Rucker stood between me and them. Sometimes literally. And when there was violence, he was the one who made sure I was taken care of. He showed me kindness at a time when it felt like everyone in the world had turned against me. I don’t think I ever properly thanked him for that.”

Another pause. She looked down at her hands, her lips pressed tightly together.

“At the time, I didn’t know how he felt about the fact I was gay. He never said anything one way or another. He just knew I was in danger and did everything in his power to make me feel safe again. So I felt safe whenever I saw him around town after that. I imagine a lot of you probably have stories like that about him, otherwise you wouldn’t have come out on such a cold and dreary day. So I’d like to give the opportunity for anyone who has a story to come up here and say a few words about our sheriff.”

Alex Crawford was the first to rise. “I limped into this town. I had an injury that, honestly, took way too long to heal. If I want to be completely honest, if someone walked into my station looking the way I did back then, I’d have been really skeptical about hiring her. Sheriff Rucker made a point of coming over and introducing himself the first time he saw me in town. The new firefighter, limping, using a cane. I must have struck a really heroic pose.” She smiled. “But he shook my hand. He told me he’d heard good things from my old station, which means he did call to check up on me. But I can forgive him for that. He told me to call him any time I needed to talk. I took him up on that more than a few times over the years. He was never too busy to talk. And, uh... I think, I think that’s all. Thanks, thank you.”

She took her seat.

Next to stand was an elegant older woman with her silver hair pinned back by a large jade clip.

“My name is Vanessa Kavik. Many of you have my work hanging in your office, maybe even your homes. When I first came to the island, I was a bit of a... a nuisance... I had a habit of painting in the nude, and I frequently did it in public. Deputy White is squirming because he used to be the one who had to run me in when people called to complain.”

Claire looked to see Randall was indeed blushing.

“I was unrepentant and resistant to being rehabilitated until one day Sheriff Rucker took me into his office. He asked what he could do to make the island more amenable to my art. He didn’t tell me I had to stop painting nude, he asked how we could work together to make sure everyone was satisfied. So we talked and eventually we came to a compromise that we both could live with. And Deputy White hasn’t seen me naked for almost five years now.”

The room laughed softly.

Vanessa said, “Sheriff Rucker was the sort of man who worked with people to find an answer. He wouldn’t insist he knew best, and he wasn’t convinced the letter of the law was always the proper route. We were lucky to have him for as long as we did.”

Next, the town librarian Cheryl Paxton meekly lifted her hand. Nadine smiled and gestured for her to stand up. Cheryl awkwardly rose, then began to speak at the same time she Signed her words.

“My wife and I were among the first openly lesbian couples on the island. She passed away a little while after Nadine’s show. It was still very early, and a lot of attitudes remained closed-minded. But after she passed, Sheriff Rucker came by my house. He spent time with me. He made sure I was being looked after. He was a kind man. He was generous. I’ll miss him very, very much.”

After Cheryl sat, a few seconds passed with only silence. When it became clear no one else was going to stand, Claire squeezed Jodie’s hand, then rose from her seat. Nadine looked at her and smiled.

“How appropriate. Let’s bring Acting Sheriff Claire Curran for an official message. Please.”

Nadine stepped away from the podium and Claire reluctantly took her place.

“Wow, I wasn’t keen on standing at my seat, let alone this. I’m not very big on public speaking. But I’ll give it a try for Ruck.” She coughed quietly, wishing she’d thought this through. She flexed her fingers on the edge of the podium. “There was a time in my life when I thought I was finished. I didn’t see any kind of future. No career, or a place to call home. Even when things changed and I had hope, I didn’t think I would ever be lucky enough to have my dream job. Cal took a chance. He saw potential in me, and I’ve done my best every day for the past six years to make him proud. And I’ll keep doing the same thing now that he’s entrusted me with filling his shoes.”

Her eyes moved to a man with sandy hair leaning against the wall next to the door. He was dressed appropriately in a charcoal suit over a black shirt, but something about him seemed wrong and vaguely obscene. It took her a second to realize it was his expression. He wasn’t smirking, but his eyes were narrowed just enough that she felt like he was holding back laughter. He looked like someone who had stepped inside while waiting for the bus and was vaguely amused by what he was witnessing.

“Um.” Claire looked away from the man, trying to regain her train of thought. “Cal was a good boss. A great boss. It was an honor to work for him, and I’ll do everything in my power to continue his legacy in this town. Thank you.”

She stepped away from the podium, trying to look casual and not like she was fleeing. Nadine returned to the podium as Claire retreated into the safety of the audience. Jodie took her hand as soon as she was seated again and leaned in to whisper, “Good job.”

She relaxed and rubbed her thumb over Jodie’s knuckles. Nadine went on to say that she knew Rucker had several favorite songs and wanted to play a few of them in his honor. While the first song played, Claire looked over her shoulder. The man at the door was still there, but now he wasn’t watching the stage.

He was looking directly at her.

She did her best to ignore him during the rest of the music, but she could feel his eyes on her as she thought about the testimonials. Each story had made her feel less and less prepared to take over the job. She was confident in her ability to fulfill the actual duties of the office, but Ruck had gone above and beyond for seemingly every resident of the island. It was daunting to say the least.

When the last song faded, Nadine returned to the podium and thanked everyone for coming.

“Cal requested his ashes be scattered off the western shore, near the lighthouse, but I think we’re going to wait for the weather to be a little more agreeable before we do that. Gail’s Seafood Shack is having a special luncheon in honor of Sheriff Rucker, and you’re all invited to attend that if you don’t want to just head home and avoid the weather.”

The crowd quickly dispersed after that, but Claire and Jodie remained near the stage because it seemed like everyone wanted a moment with their new sheriff.

“I feel a bit ghoulish,” Claire whispered to Jodie between handshakes.

“People just want to know they’re in good hands.”

“At Ruck’s memorial service? It seems a bit...”

“Gauche?”

“I don’t use words like that unless I’m doing a crossword.”

Jodie chuckled and leaned against Claire’s arm. “You’re almost through it. Just a little longer and then we’ll head to Gail’s.”

Claire tensed when she saw that the next person to approach was the smirking man in the charcoal suit. He moved like a used car salesman closing in on a sale.

“Deputy... sorry, Sheriff Curran.” He offered his hand. “I just wanted to take this opportunity to say hello and introduce myself. Dennis Wyman.”

Claire took his hand. He immediately clapped his other hand over hers, making her feel as if she’d just been caught in a snare. The smile never left his mouth. Now that he was closer, she could see the smile also never reached his eyes.

“Are you new to the island, Dennis?” she asked.

“Oh, I’ve been around a little while. A little while. I was hoping we could have a moment to speak in private before this event wrapped up. Just a quick conversation, just the two of us.” He turned the smile on Jodie. “No offense.”

Jodie said, “Oh, none taken.” Claire read the unspoken message in her tone: The less time spent with you, the better. “I should probably go say hello to the Warrens anyway.”

“Shouldn’t we do that together?” Claire asked, locking eyes with her wife. Don’t you dare walk away and leave me with him.

“I’ll make sure they don’t leave.” Sorry, babe, you’re on your own.

“Appreciate it.” Divorce.

Jodie blew Claire a kiss behind Wyman’s back, then hurried off into the crowd.

Claire reluctantly gestured for Wyman to lead the way out of the meeting room into a side office. The curtains were drawn, casting deep and gloomy shadows into every corner. All the furniture was child-size, and a bright pastel bookshelf in the corner was full of picture books. She assumed it was some kind of daycare facility. The room was small and freezing. She closed the door behind her but stayed next to it.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Wyman?”

“I’d like to think we can help each other, Sheriff.”

Claire said, “I wonder if anything good has ever come from that statement.”

He laughed too hard at that, reinforcing her image of a car salesman. “To put it simply, I just want to make sure we have an understanding. A group of friends and I are going to be operating here on the island. We’ll be well outside the town limits, completely out of sight and out of mind, nothing you have to worry about. And we would respect your boundaries as well. We’d have to pass through on our way on and off the island, via the ferry, but we wouldn’t make any trouble for you, the residents, or any of the lovely tourists who arrive on this shore every day. It would be an entirely symbiotic relationship.”

Claire watched him as he spoke, torn between amusement at his audacity and anger at what he was asking.

“Here’s the thing, Mr. Wyman. My jurisdiction doesn’t end at the edge of town. It covers December Harbor, it goes all the way up to Sholeh Village. My purview is Squire’s Isle in its entirety. So if you’re telling me of your intention to commit some sort of crime on any square inch of this island, then you and I are going to have a problem.”

Wyman didn’t drop the smile. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I’m telling you, Sheriff Curran, that we don’t have to have a problem. Any problem that arises between us will be your doing. I’m just suggesting maybe save yourself some trouble down the road. Maybe save that lovely wife of yours some grief.”

Any amusement faded, and Claire was left with rage. “Did you make this same offer to Ruck?”

His expression didn’t give anything away. “You never have to see or speak with me again. I can become a ghost to you. Or I can become a... pest. I can tell from your face that you’d prefer the former. You just want me to go away. I’m willing. I want to make it official so neither of us has to worry going forward. You’re new to the job. Make it easy on yourself.” He held out his hand.

“Easy.” Claire smiled now. “You have no idea who you’re talking to.”

Wyman sighed and dropped his hand, still smiling. She wondered if the wide gleaming grin was permanent.

“Oh, I know who you are,” he said, condescension seeping into his voice. “You’re Sheriff Claire, the small-town cop with delusions of making a difference.”

Claire didn’t blink. “Dig deeper.”

The tone of her voice finally made his smug grin waver, but he forced it back into place. “Enlighten me.”

“I don’t think so, Mr. Wyman.” She reached back without looking and opened the door, stepping out of his way. “You’ve taken up enough of a day that’s supposed to be dedicated to a better man than you. Why don’t you try out that disappearing trick you mentioned earlier?”

He shook his head and chuckled softly. “Sheriff Claire, you surprise me. But I suppose we’ll be seeing each other real soon.”

“Lance,” Claire said.

He stopped and looked back at her. She’d finally thrown him, and she was proud of the confused look that finally wiped the smile off his face.

“Pardon?”

“Claire Lance. That was the name I used before I was married.” She closed the office door and stepped around him. “If I find out you or your friends had anything to do with Cal Rucker’s death, you’re going to find out who I am very fast, Mr. Wyman.”