Maddy stood at the edge of the beach just out of reach of the waves that lapped at the shore. She yanked the band out of her hair and raked a hand through her air-dried strands before pulling it back once more. She wished she’d kept Quinn’s cap. But she had other things to worry about than that silly ball cap. Like the fact that the SWAT team had swept the island and come up empty. The guy—the killer—was gone.
And now the bodies were patiently waiting for the medical examiner to arrive. They would be transported off the island to the morgue in Key West. Outwardly, she kept her expression still, calm, poised. Inwardly, her emotions raged. Those had been living, breathing people. They deserved justice. As far as she was concerned, they would get justice.
A noise caught her attention, and in a few minutes she could make out a small boat powered by a single engine zipping across the water toward the island. It looked like two people occupied the craft. As it drew closer, Maddy could see the lettering on the side. TABOR TRANSPORT AND FERRY SERVICE.
A few feet out, the captain cut the motor and pulled it up, then used a paddle to steer the boat all the way into the sand, where he beached it. He hooked a ladder over the side, then, barefoot, hopped out. The water came to his ankles. He pointed to the front of the boat and his passenger nodded.
Maddy watched as a woman hefted a large bag, then climbed onto the seat, up over the bow, and dropped into the sand. She wore khaki shorts and a green shirt that identified her as with the Monroe County Office of the Medical Examiner. She had brown hair with a few gray streaks, pulled back in a ponytail. Her dark-rimmed glasses covered startling blue eyes. Those blue eyes snagged Maddy’s gaze and she approached with an outstretched hand. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I’m Dr. Callie Forsythe, the ME for Monroe County. I got a call about a mass grave. Sorry it took me so long to get out here.”
Maddy shook her hand. “I’m Maddy McKay. I can take you to the grave.”
“What’s your role here?”
Maddy blinked at the woman, unsure how to answer. Victim? Task force member? “Good question.”
“Here ya go, Ms. Forsythe,” the gray-headed man said to her. He handed her a clipboard. “Just need you to sign right here so I can bill yer office.”
Callie signed and he added his signature, then ripped off the bottom page. He handed it to the woman, then set the clipboard back in the boat.
Maddy took note of the man who’d captained the boat out to the island. Long gray hair with a matching mustache and in need of a shave. Sunglasses covered his eyes. His skin glowed with a healthy tan and his hands looked strong and capable. She guessed he was in his early to midfifties, but it was hard to tell with the beard. He could be ten years older.
Sheriff Danvers stepped around the crime scene tape at the edge of the trees and walked down to the beach with an outstretched hand. “Callie, good to see you. Still won’t fly, huh?”
“Not a chance.” She set her bag on the sand and stepped forward to shake his hand, then planted her hands on her slim hips.
The sheriff looked at the captain. “Thanks, Burt.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff.” Burt nodded. “Lemme know if you need anythin’ else.” He looked around, his attention on all the law enforcement. “What’s going on out here? And what are those pits? I never seen them a’fore.”
Maddy followed his gaze. Every five yards, there was a six-by-ten pit with spears at the bottom. They’d been methodically uncovered and marked with yellow crime scene tape. The memory of almost falling into one of them flashed and she sucked in a deep breath to keep the gasp from passing her lips.
“A crime scene,” Sheriff Danvers said. “Keep it to yourself, will you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Maddy wondered if he really would, but the sheriff seemed to know the man fairly well.
“You need me to stick around?” Burt asked. “I don’t mind.” He glanced at his watch. “I got a ferry in about two hours, but happy to do what I can to help you between now an’ then.”
“I’ve got a question for you.”
Burt crossed his arms. “What’s that?”
“When was the last time you came out to this island?”
A tan hand reached up to stroke his long beard. “Well, I reckon it was a while back. I been ferrying nigh on to five years now. Keeps me busy and I don’t have to think so much about . . . well, you know. I used to bring things out to Mr. Hogan, but then he died a couple a years ago, so . . .” He shrugged. “Two years, I guess?”
“You haven’t been out here since Mr. Hogan died?”
“You notice anything going on over on this island while you were out on the water in between islands? A plane coming in or taking off?”
Another stroke of the beard. “Yeah. I mighta seen a plane a time or two. Just figured it was Hogan’s kids coming to check on the place or something.”
“What kind was it? Did you notice? And the color?”
“Aw, shoot, Sheriff, I think it was gray and blue. Don’t know what kind it was. I’m not into planes much, other than using them to get from one place to the other.”
“I understand.” The sheriff nodded. “Thanks, Burt.”
“Yep. You need anything else?”
“Not for now. I’ll give you a call when the good doc is ready to leave.”
Burt nodded. “A crime scene, huh?” He shook his head. “I don’t get why God lets stuff like that happen. I don’t guess I ever will.”
“I know what you mean, Burt. Thanks for your help.”
“I’ll be back when you need me, then.” He shoved his boat back into deeper water, climbed the ladder and pulled it in, then let the motor down. The engine revved and he was gone, soon to become a small speck as he headed back toward Key West. Maddy didn’t bother listening as the sheriff filled in the medical examiner. She knew the details.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she spun, heart thudding. Quinn pulled his hand back and stood in the “I surrender” position. “Sorry.”
Maddy placed a hand over her pounding heart. “No, I’m sorry. It’s going to take a while to get over the jumpiness.”
“I know. Are you ready to go? There’s a chopper here that will take us home.”
“Home. Yes. Home sounds good.”
He placed a hand on the small of her back. “Are you going to stay with your parents for a while?”
She snorted a laugh. “No. Are you?”
He scowled. “Not likely.”
They walked a few steps, then she stopped and looked up at him. “We almost died, Quinn.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t.”
“I know and I don’t know why.”
He brushed a few wayward bangs back out of her eyes. “Where’s your faith? Your trust in God?”
“It’s still there, but I’m . . . questioning.”
“What?”
“Just . . . stuff.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the secretive one in this relationship.”
“Relationship?” She looked at him. “What relationship?”
His mouth worked. “Well, that was a low blow.”
She sighed. “Sorry. Again.”
“No. You have every right to feel that way.” He drew in a deep breath. “Maddy, I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t say anything, Quinn, okay? Now isn’t the time to try to figure out what we are.”
He fell silent and she almost felt bad for cutting him off, but the truth was, she was so mixed up inside that anything he said was just going to add to the clamor. She needed quiet. She needed peace. She needed someone to not be trying to kidnap or kill her. Just for a little while. Without looking at him, she reached for his hand and held it. He let her.
And together, they stood in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Separate. Yet not. Then he squeezed her fingers. “Let’s go home.”
“No,” she said. “Let’s go catch a killer.”