Page 24 of Crosscurrent

“Not a lot to go on until you get an ID,” he said carefully.

“Exactly.” Her tone was neutral, but the look she shot him was not.

Noted. They were going to have to keep Skye, and their investigation, far away from Haven Cove’s new chief.

Gabe suddenly became extremely aware of how thin the old building’s floors actually were. Downstairs, directly beneath their feet, Tom was currently dismantling a dead marshal’s hidden ledger while Skye Reeves sat drinking Diane’s coffee in borrowed clothes.

Vega studied him for half a second too long. “You look tired.”

“Didn’t sleep much.”

“That makes two of us.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out.

David: Confirmed — Sophie and I arrive Friday. Looking forward to it. We've got things to discuss.

Gabe looked at the text for a moment, then put the phone away.

Right. He’d forgotten. David and Sophie’s skills, and David’s extensive backgrounding on Neptune, would be invaluable. But Gabe didn’t want his little brother here, in the middle of things. At. All.

Not that he could do anything about it now. Cancelling would only ensure David showed up early, notebook in hand.

Vega drained her mug and headed for the door before he had to make any further conversation, thankfully.

As the chief exited, a shortish man slipped inside. Tourist, Gabe decided immediately. He looked exactly like the kind of travelers who bought local jam and asked whether whales could be seen from shore this time of year. The guy was mid-thirties, maybe, wearing a rumpled canvas jacket, wire-rimmed glasses. The rounded shoulders and poorly cut hair along with the manila envelope in his hand and the vague, lost look pegged him as an academic type.

Gabe assessed all of that automatically before the man even reached the counter.

“Quick question.” He included both Gabe and Diane in his query. “The yoga studio down by the marina’s been closed a couple days, I guess.” He adjusted the envelope in his grip. “Do you happen to know if the instructor’s still in town?”

Every instinct Gabe had settled quietly into place. Danger didn’t always arrive loudly. Sometimes it walked into bakeries wearing tweed.

Diane glanced toward Gabe automatically.

Interesting. The team was training each other without realizing it now.

“Depends who’s asking,” Gabe said easily.

The man hesitated, as if he didn’t have the rest of the script. “My name’s Owen Harney.” He offered a nervous half-smile. “I’m trying to find Skye Reeves.”

Harney.

There it was. The connection. And maybe a way forward.

Gabe made sure his expression remained perfectly neutral. Inside, though, pieces started moving fast. “She a friend of yours?”

“Never met her. She rented from my uncle for a while.” The man shifted the envelope awkwardly. “He passed away recently and asked me to deliver something if I ever found her, but I’m only here for a couple days at the most.”

Gabe smiled mildly. “You mind if Diane gets you some tea? I’ve got something in storage I need to check before I can help you.”

The man blinked. “Uh. Sure?”

“Chamomile?” Diane asked smoothly.

“Okay.”

“Excellent choice.” Diane immediately guided him toward a corner table with the calm authority of a woman who had absolutely helped conceal operational conversations before.