the front connected to the back so passengers could move about. It was about fifteen feet long—short compared to the monsters produced these days. The exterior was banged up and rusty, and a section of the siding had peeled away from the body.
Niall didn’t like it, not one bit. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the camper had his cop instincts paying attention.
“Who drives the RV?” he asked Sage once he’d gathered up the items he wanted, including a second cup of coffee.
Sage cocked her head at him. “What RV?”
Niall realized Sage might not know what cars customers drove. Regulars, perhaps, but not seasonals. So at least her question confirmed his suspicion that the driver was not a local.
“An older RV camper I saw on my way in—I thought maybe the owner had been shopping.”
Sage shook her head as she ran Niall’s items across the scanner. “Not that I know of. It’s been a slow morning—no one except Fred from across the street has been in. But it’s still early, and there’s a few other places in Killegen’s Point. The laundromat is open twenty-four hours; maybe they were there?”
“Maybe.”
He paid, thanked Sage, and made his way back out to his car. The rain had lightened up a little while he was inside, hinting at another decent day. Fenrir sat up as Niall approached, wagging his tail in greeting. Apparently, Niall had been forgiven.
Before leaving Killegen’s Point, he checked out the laundromat’s board, finding nothing suitable for a cranky ex-cop and his trusty wolfhound.
The road Niall was following now was not the main artery between Killegen’s Point and Hidden Harbor. It was a narrow, almost one-lane road that cut across from Killegen’s Point to the easternmost point of the island. Niall drove slowly along it, passing a yellow No Outlet warning sign; most likely the only drivers he would come upon here would be locals. As thoroughly as he scanned both sides of the road, he didn’t see any sign of the camper. But there were plenty of driveways it could’ve driven down, plenty of brush and spots densely covered with trees, plenty of places for an RV to hide.
Niall slowed to a stop as he neared the end of the road. Beyond it, the land dropped into a sheer bluff that overlooked the straits between Piedras and the mainland. Without consciously thinking about it, he parked along the shoulder and climbed out. Fenrir let out an impatient bark from inside, and Niall let him out too, knowing he wouldn’t go far. Fenrir was low maintenance. Niall chuckled—that was not a concept he would apply to himself.
He paused at the guardrail, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket for protection from the cold. As he stood at the end of the road, the fog began melting away, slow at first and then faster, until he could see all the way across the water to the mainland crouching in the distance. Niall took a deep breath of the salt-laden air, filling his lungs, then released it. As he stared out at the dark silhouette of land, something unnameable inside himself loosened a bit further, a nearly tangible click into place. Piedras felt right.
Niall didn’t feel like an old-timer, but he did have a history on the island; he existed here as more than a bitter homicide cop. Some islanders—like Mat Dempsey—even seemed to want him there. Most of the residents seemed to accept Niall’s presence, and the few who whispered behind his back… well, that’s the way things had always been.
And, he thought as he breathed in and out again, more than likely the camper was no big deal. He was making a mountain out of a molehill—something his grandmother used to say quite often. There was likely a perfectly good, lawful reason the owner was driving around the island and only using facilities when they were less likely to run into other inhabitants.
The cop in him protested. Niall tried to ignore it.
His thoughts drifted further afield, as the fog continued to fade, to the sexy and very available Sheriff Dempsey. Mat seemed to see right into Niall’s soul and never once flinched—he actually thought he liked Niall. Mat was something Niall had never had in his life, or not often, anyway. Mat represented family, safety, commitment. Given everything Mat had done since Niall had come back to Piedras, it should be easy for Niall to trust him. But he couldn’t find the off switch for the