Black Moon: Hamarsson and Dempsey 3

by Keaton, Elle

  Mat pressed Niall’s hand flat against his heart. The steady beat of that organ under Niall’s palm was steadying. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who was most recently in the hospital?” Leaning in, Mat pressed his lips lightly against Niall’s. “Next time you see Sage, tell her we’ll do it. Is there anything to eat?”

  Mat left far too early again Saturday morning. Niall chafed at being the outsider and still officially on light duty for WCF, weekend or no. After a short work conference call, it was decided he’d return to the active roster Monday. When Ethan Moore and his WCF team arrived on Piedras—which hadn’t been decided yet—Niall wouldn’t be officially assigned to the investigation, but he hoped to stick around for it. Everything was a waiting game right now, and it was pissing him off.

  Shit was happening, and all of it was out of his control. He was restless and twitchy, and there was nothing he could do about it. Not without pissing off his partner. But after several hours of getting up to pace around and then sitting back down at the table, Niall decided he needed to get out of the house. Even the relatively thin walls of the yurt were pressing in on him.

  “Come on, dog.”

  Fenrir, who’d kept one eye on Niall all morning, stood up from his dog bed, stretched out his long body, and padded to the front door. Niall wished he had a copy of the printout Mat had shown him—but maybe it was for the better. He was already walking a fine line.

  Niall directed his car toward Killegen’s Point. He’d stop by Alyson’s and see how she and Riley were doing. He could stop by Shay’s place too; he hadn’t seen it yet. If he kept himself busy, he wouldn’t be tempted to drive the other direction and stop in at the sheriff’s office to see how things were going. Last time he’d done that, it hadn’t exactly ended well. Although he and Mat were together now, so maybe it had ended well.

  If he just happened to head out to Brooch Resort, it would be to see if he and Mat had made the right decision earlier in the summer when they’d tossed the resort’s information in the discard pile as too expensive.

  The Kiln was the name of Brooch Resort’s bar-slash-pub. The name was fitting, since the first White owners had been lime miners and then became lime barons. It opened at noon every day, and Niall again told himself he was taking a tour of the property, giving the resort a chance to change his mind. It was, after all, locally owned and operated.

  The Kiln was located waterside, facing Haro Strait. There was a breezy patio with tables and chairs looking out over the marina, and a gazebo to one side. A sign declared, “Pets Allowed on the Patio.” Good to know, but Niall was still glad he’d left Fenrir with Alyson and Riley. It wasn’t a hot day, but Fenrir would look askance at being left in the car. And, even if dogs were allowed, most people took a second look at Fenrir.

  Inside, the pub was dimly lit. Niall stood in the doorway and took in the small space. A tall woman behind a mahogany bar was wiping it down and reorganizing the bottles of liquor behind her. There were several taps advertising both local and off-island beers. The Saturday lunch crowd had arrived ahead of him. Two men sat at the bar, pints in front of them, and a man and woman were at one of the tables reading over a paper menu together.

  “Have a seat where you like,” the bartender said. “I’ll bring you a menu.”

  Niall sat at the opposite end of the bar from the two men. The bartender slipped a menu in front of him and rattled off the day’s specials. “Let me know when you’ve decided.” Her name tag read “Ona.”

  Niall nodded as he looked down at the selection. “I’ll have a pint of the pale ale and a pub burger.”

  “Sounds good. Do you want me to charge this to your room?” Ona poured Niall’s ale. With a practiced movement, she flicked off the extra foam before setting the glass in front of him.

  “I’m not staying here, just checking it out. My fiancé and I are thinking about getting married here.” Niall nearly choked on the word fiancé, but he managed to spit it out—it was true, after all.

  She raised her eyebrows and smiled at him, nodding. “It’s beautiful here. Have you checked out the wedding arbor yet?”

  “No. I thought I’d have something to eat first, then see what the facility has to offer.”

  “Well, be sure to check out the chapel. And sometimes couples use the lawn above the marina too, where the gazebo is. When’s the big day?”

  Niall fiddled with a spare coaster, spinning it on the bar top. “We haven’t set a date yet. Still trying to find the perfect place.”

  Nodding, Ona walked to the other end of the counter where a computer was mounted and, Niall presumed, entered in his order. “Your food will be up shortly,” she called over her shoulder.

  While he waited for his food, Niall stared around the pub, trying not to feel guilty that he was sort of interfering with Mat’s investigation. Sort of. He snorted at his weak attempt to justify being at Brooch Resort: 100 percent completely interfering, 100 percent shouldn’t be out here asking questions and trying to get the staff to talk to him—as if they’d just start talking about an investigation. Niall was certain the owner or manager had told them to keep their mouths shut.

  “Here ya go.” Ona slid his burger in front of him a few minutes later.

  “Thanks.” He took a bite; it was delicious.

  While Niall ate, a few more people wandered in. The bartender greeted them and easily took care of them. She didn’t seem nervous or edgy, and he couldn’t come up with a way to ask if she’d heard about the assault. When he finished his burger, Niall dug out his wallet and left two twenties tucked under his coaster, as Ona was busy with a four-top.

  “Thanks,” he called out as he left.

  Since he was here, he might as well take a stroll around the property. From the Kiln he walked to the gazebo, then down to the pier, where a lot of expensive sailboats were moored. A few people were doing things with the boats: pulling lines, adjusting this and that. No one who looked like the man in the picture.

  He climbed up the hill to the main building and lobby. He’d seen the pictures in the brochure, but he might as well look in person. It too was dimly lit; he supposed it was because of the original light fixtures hanging from the ceilings. A young man behind the desk greeted him with a smile.

  “How may I help you? Are you here to check in?” He seemed a bit confused at Niall’s appearance.

  “No,” Niall said as he drew close to the big, old-fashioned reception desk. “My partner and I are getting married, and I wanted to check the place out.”

  “Oh, congratulations.” The clerk beamed at Niall. “When’s the big day?”

  “No date yet—much to my mother-in-law-to-be’s chagrin.”

  “What about your family?” According to his name tag, the young man’s name was Cody. “I bet they’re excited for you too.”

  “I don’t have any,” Niall said flatly.

  “I’m so sorry.” Cody turned bright red. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

  Niall shrugged. “I guess I do have family now. This is an LGBTQ-friendly establishment, correct?”

  “What? Oh, yes. I’m gay, and… well, my uncle is the owner, but he’s…” Cody shrugged. “He’ll take anyone’s money. Are—” He snapped his lips shut around the question he’d clearly been about to ask, the color in his face rising higher.

  Niall suppressed a chuckle. “Is the resort busy right now? Is it okay if I take a look around?”

  Cody’s eyes darted around, as if he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Um, we are full tonight, but not everyone has checked in yet. I guess it would be okay. My uncle is ill, or I’d show you around myself.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your uncle.”

  “I think he’ll be okay. He said it was his stomach. I hope it isn’t catching, though.”

  As gently as possible, Niall extricated himself from the well-meaning but talkative Cody Prescott. “I’ll just take a look around in the public areas.”

  It was interesting
that the manager had called in sick, Niall mused. From the way Cody Prescott had acted, a bit twitchy, Niall had the impression that this was not ordinary behavior from his uncle.

  He wandered into the dining room located just off the lobby. A lone busboy was straightening the place settings, making sure the white linen napkins were folded into proper triangles and placing them atop the appetizer and dinner plates, which were bracketed by gleaming dinnerware. Niall picked up a fork. It was heavy in his hand. Not silver, but expensive. The worker studiously ignored him as he gazed out the windows. During the day it would be impossible for anyone to sneak around. Niall didn’t see many security lights from where he was standing, directly in front of the windows; at night it would be much easier for someone to stay hidden.

  A walking path from one side of the building led down to the water, meandering along the seawall until it was out of Niall’s sight. Far to his right there was a sign for US Customs. Niall had forgotten that boats sailing in from Canada were supposed to officially cross the border here. He wondered how that arrangement had come about.

  After poking his head into a few of the open conference rooms on the main floor, Niall took a hallway that led behind the kitchen to an outside exit. It opened up to what looked like an employee parking lot. No way did the wealthy hotel guests drive these cars; Niall’s beat-up Subaru would fit in perfectly, though.

  Feeling very much like he’d been doing something he shouldn’t be, Niall decided to head back toward Hidden Harbor. He debated stopping at Alyson’s and picking up Fenrir, but he had this irrational thought that she would know what he’d been up to—and wouldn’t approve.

  He switched his focus back to Duane Cooper. The whole thing was bugging him. Why had Cooper been killed now? What had he been involved in that led to his death? In cop work, Niall had always asked himself who would benefit? Often money was involved in the answer—but as far as Niall knew, Cooper didn’t have any.

  There was Sharleen Dixon too. She’d been their only source of information about Cooper, and Niall had his suspicions about her. As dockmaster of the East Bay Marina, she would have seen Cooper around, probably more than she’d admitted to Mat. But… if she’d been in on Cooper’s side business, she would likely be dead now too, right?

  Out of the corner of his eye, Niall spotted the sign for the road Shay had rented a house on. Slowing down, he pulled a U-turn and headed back. Might as well make it believable when he told Mat about his day.

  Niall rolled his eyes as he drove slowly down Rhododendron Street looking for the right address. This part of Piedras was exclusive: almost, but not quite, a gated community. It made sense, he supposed, with Brooch Resort practically next door. The beaches along here were privately owned; the residents kept the riffraff and common folk off them.

  Niall remembered that some of the land Mat’s older brother, Sean, had been trying to buy up was around here—along with some on Orcas Island. Sean had planned to turn around and sell it all off to developers for a huge profit; his death had put a stop to that. His murder.

  Shay’s house was at the end of the road, and nice, very nice. And far too big for a single man. Niall parked in the driveway and made his way up the steps to a bridge that crossed a damn gulch before he got to the front door. Looking down, he saw brush and large rocks below him. His half brother opened the door before he could knock.

  “Afternoon. This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “I was in the area.”

  “Come on in,” Shay said, opening the door wider.

  “Nice place. You have your own moat,” Niall commented. He noticed Shay was in his sock feet and several pairs of shoes sat in a tidy line near the door. He toed his own shoes off and pushed them out of the way before following Shay.

  “You want a tour?” Shay asked over his shoulder.

  “Nah, that can wait until Mat is here too. What inspired you to rent this place?” Niall asked.

  “You’ll see. The kitchen and living room are through here.” Shay led the way. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” Niall followed him. The kitchen had been recently remodeled—had to have been, since the house was a prime example of 1980s architecture—and a deck the length of the house looked out over Haro Strait. This was why Shay had rented the house. “Gorgeous view.”

  “No fucking kidding.” Shay turned to look out the huge picture window along with Niall. “So… why are you here?”

  “Would you believe trying to stay out of trouble?”

  “Is it working?”

  “Mmm, not really.” Niall stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and leaned against the counter. He looked around. “Your place is primo.”

  “Yeah, and quiet too. Or it was. This morning some folks arrived next door.”

  “Oh yeah? Are you going to have to deal with a weekend of partiers?”

  “I don’t know. They seemed…”

  “What?”

  “I was getting my mail when these folks arrived, and they didn’t seem like the type to rent a weekend place. Something is off. I mean, not everyone has to say hi when a neighbor greets them—but around here we do. Even visitors.”

  It was true. The island was friendly, and so were most of the people who visited.

  “So they ignored you? Maybe you’re losing your magic touch.” Niall snickered.

  Shay raised an eyebrow at him. “Four people: three men and a woman. Two big black SUVs. A lot of luggage, and then after unloading, one of the men and the woman left, and I haven’t seen them come back.”

  “Peeking through curtains, even!”

  “Niall.” Shay frowned.

  “No,” Niall conceded. “I agree with you. That’s odd.” In his experience, two kinds of people drove big black SUVs: the feds and organized crime. “Show me.”

  He followed Shay out onto the deck that extended out over a sheer bluff—Shay’s view of Haro Strait was similar to the one at Brooch. They walked to one end, where they could look out over the small road that dead-ended here.

  “The two who stayed behind have been here for hours and haven’t even come outside to check out their deck. They haven’t taken a walk on the beach.”

  “Maybe they’re having wild sex?”

  Shay threw him a laser stare. “It’s turned out to be a gorgeous fall day. People may come to our islands to have wild sex, but on a day like this they at least walk the beach, have a glass of wine on the deck. They haven’t left the house.”

  “There’s no law against that. We don’t have exact rules about how folks are supposed to enjoy themselves.”

  “And where did the other two go?” Shay grumbled. “That house is big enough for all four of them—and they’d get lost just like I do. Plus, none of them acted like couples. You know, no touches on the back, taking heavy bags, that sort of thing.”

  “You want me to tell Mat about them?”

  Shay sighed. “No. It’s just weird.”

  Niall had to agree with him. “Where is the SUV that stayed behind?”

  “They parked it in the garage—who does that in a rental house? No one, that’s who. Or, I guess, people who don’t want other people to see their vehicle.”

  Niall stayed at Shay’s long enough to finish the coffee Shay offered him. After leaving, he stopped in at Chester’s to let Sage know that the protection rite, or whatever she called it, was on. And he grabbed another coffee—it was almost like being a cop again.

  “That’s wonderful, Niall,” Sage exclaimed, smiling at him. “I’ll contact Maddie Roux, and we’ll look at the calendar together. I think it should be done as close to the equinox as possible. Will you be on the island?”

  “You tell us the date, and we’ll make sure to be here.” He pulled out his wallet to pay for the coffee.

  “So, you haven’t set a date for the wedding yet?”

  “No…” Comprehension dawned. “Alyson’s been talking.”

  “Well,” Sage said, “she’s in all the time, and she may have mentioned a tim
e or two that you and Mat still hadn’t set a date.”

  Niall shook his head. “I guess we need to.”

  As he was slipping his wallet back into his pocket, a couple entered the store. That they were visitors to the island was immediately apparent; they looked like they’d walked out of an REI or L.L.Bean catalog. It wasn’t unusual, Niall supposed. A lot of the Piedras tourists had money to burn and arrived ready to climb the highest mountain or something like that, despite there being no mountains on Piedras… but something about these two had him thinking about Shay’s new neighbors.

  The male was Caucasian, about six feet tall with bright red hair, and the freckles covering his face would make him recognizable anywhere. The woman was Latina, on the shorter side, maybe five three, with dark hair and dark eyes that took in her surroundings at a glance, and Niall thought they moved together like partners—but not lovers.

  There was no doubt in Niall’s mind that they were some kind of enforcement, but whether it was legal or illegal, he didn’t know. Either way, the last thing Mat needed on Piedras right now was some kind of turf war. Casting one more glance at them, Niall hurriedly left the store.

  He sat behind the wheel in the Chester’s parking lot debating whether or not to call Mat and let him know about the odd visitors, but he had the feeling Mat would tell him he was imagining things. And maybe he was. Maybe he was seeing shadows where there weren’t any. Those two could have been a normal couple taking time away from the rat race, recharging, having a romantic weekend. The thing was, Niall was certain the gleaming Ford Expedition belonged to them, and he really wanted to call in a favor and have someone run the plates so he could put his nagging suspicions to bed.

  So what, he argued with himself. So what if this off-island couple drove a black SUV and seemed out of place? He needed to chill the fuck out. Mat was more than able to take care of himself and the citizens of Piedras—he’d been doing it for ten years before Niall showed back up and sort of accidentally insinuated himself into Mat’s life. Mat had been a cop in San Francisco, for fuck’s sake—a much more dangerous place than Piedras Island.