Once the last customer left, Isla locked the door and turned on the news. Nothing more about the body found in the boat shed. She didn’t have time to stick around and find out. She had to rush home and get ready for the McCallisters’ big fund-raiser. Pick out a nice dress, fix her hair, and put on her best pair of shoes.
She swept up and then counted out the till. Amazing! It was her best day since opening. If business kept up at this pace, the future looked bright.
After locking up the salon, she dashed for her car, thinking about what might happen if Julian was responsible for these crimes. Tonight would be as good a time as any to keep her eyes and ears open. Maybe to ask a few questions and see what she might be able to find out. She’d have to walk a fine line. Because if Samantha believed that Isla was prying into her life, it could mean an end to her livelihood. But this was personal now. Her own flesh and blood had been brutally attacked and left for dead. If that ultimately hurt her business, than so be it. Family came first.
KARL
THREE LOCAL KIDS WALKING THE BEACH HAD DISCOVERED THE BODY He pulled up and saw two state police cruisers parked at the scene. He understood why: the state police handled most of the murder investigations in the state of Maine. With only five officers, the Shepherd’s Bay Police Department could hardly be counted on to solve complicated murder cases, nor did it have the resources to handle the kinds of evidence found at violent crime scenes.
He’d considered becoming a state police officer upon arriving home to Maine. It would have been an easier route to employment in the field of law enforcement had he chosen that path. At the time, a lot of staties had been retiring, and there’d been plenty of job openings. And becoming a statie would have allowed him to work on all kinds of cases. But he had had a wife and a young daughter, and the prospect of working way up in the county, along the Canadian border, those first few years had made him rethink his plans. Nor had he had any desire to work along the Interstate 95 corridor between Portland and the New Hampshire state line, passing out speeding tickets to angry Mass tourists eager to hit the beaches. Then there had been the added hassle of relocating his family every few years. So when the opening had come up in the Shepherd’s Bay Police Department, he’d jumped at it.
A perimeter had been set up, and yellow tape surrounded the old boat shed. The shed was a landmark of sorts, with its faded red lobster painted on the side. He knew as soon as he saw it that it had once belonged to Ray’s father. Everyone knew George Eaves. Unlike his son, George had been a highly respected businessman in town and well liked. He’d possessed a barrel chest, a huge potbelly, and mutton sideburns. Karl never remembered seeing the man without a half-smoked cigar poking out of his chapped lips. Known around the area for his considerable boat repair skills, George Eaves had built up an impressive business. Too bad he hadn’t been able to convince Swisher to follow in his footsteps and learn the trade.
He ducked under the tape and went inside the boat shed. The shed had fallen into serious disrepair since George died from a heart attack at the age of sixty-nine. He had heard it had sold recently, but had no idea who had purchased it. As he looked around, he could see that it would cost quite a few bucks to bring it back to its former glory.
Maine detective Ed Kyle waved him over to where a wooden boat sat against the side of the shed. Kyle had thirty years of service under his belt and had worked alongside the Shepherd’s Bay Police Department on the James case. Karl looked down and saw what appeared to be a body covered over with a soiled marine tarp.
“Nice-looking boat, although it needs a little work,” Kyle said. “You ever think of owning one, Bjorny?”
“Nope. They say buying one is the second best day of a boat owner’s life.”
“And what’s the first?”
“The day he sells it.”
Kyle laughed.
“What have we got here?” Karl asked.
“Badly decomposing male. Looks to be in his late teens.”