To avoid the stampede, we hung back and let everyone else disembark first.
Everyone except Tracy, who had holed up in the ladies’ bathroom for the duration.
Based on the sniffles I overheard from a locked stall, I suspected she had lost her nerve and elected not to go ashore, and that worked for me. Here, she was contained. That freed us up to examine the crime scene without dividing our focus. Plus, the quiet time ought to soothe her enough for a quick interview.
The wiry ranger eyed us with suspicion as we crossed the gangway and waved us off to one side.
That he zeroed in on Clay’s slightly bulging suit pocket left my fingers tingling for my wand, paranoia screaming he had noticed Colby, but he was likely just worried Clay was wearing a concealed weapon.
“Can I help you folks?” His gaze slid between Clay and Asa. “You’re mighty dressed up for tourists.”
“We’re bodyguards.” Clay jerked his head toward me. “The boss’s daughter wanted to see the fort, so here we are.” He stepped closer. “You got a problem with that?”
“No,” the ranger said at last, cracking his neck. “Just antsy, I guess, after yesterday.”
Aside from Tracy, I had yet to encounter a soul who acknowledged Andreas Farmer’s tragedy.
This made two people unaffected by the other passengers’ mysterious localized amnesia.
Interesting.
“We heard about the boy in the news.” I tried for politician’s daughter over socialite. I wasn’t a people person by nature, so it was a safer bet. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with looky-loos on top of your regular duties.”
“All part of the job, ma’am.” He tipped his hat, buying the act. “I apologize if I offended.”
“I appreciate that you take your job, and the security of your visitors, so seriously.”
A proud smile cracked his weathered cheeks, and he pointed toward the flagpole.
“The program is about to start, if you want to climb up Battery Huger. Otherwise, feel free to wander.”
“We’ll do that.” I infused warmth into my tone. “Thanks again.”
We took his advice and located the stairs. Good thing too. From there, we could see the entire island, all two hundred and thirty-five acres, including an offset sandbar locals were using as a private beach to sun and picnic on.
My initial takeaway was that everyone in Charleston must own a yacht or boat or kayak. People here lived on the water. Boats were crammed full of laughing families and friends, music poured from Bluetooth speakers, and no one appeared to notice it was the last gasp of December before the new year took its first breath.
Then again, maybe that explained why everyone was partying. Kids were out of school, the ball drop was coming in fast, and people loved to get a head start on the hard liquor holidays.
Beside me, Clay made an appreciative noise when a silver-haired woman dressed in a navy-blue string bikini began dancing in the surf. Two other women joined her, and he watched them laugh and splash with undisguised appreciation for their curves. To the point I had to pinch his side to yank his attention away from their frolicking.
Even from this vantage, I could read disappointment in their postures when he turned his back on them.
With Clay’s height and build, he was easy to spot, and the silver fox still had her eye on him.
Cheeks puffing on an exhale, he forced himself to focus. “How did they take a kid in broad daylight?”
“Between the rangers, the teachers, and the other kids,” I agreed, “we ought to have witnesses.”
Our suspect took him during the tour, hid him until everyone left, drained his blood…and then what?
“Andreas should have been screaming for help.” Asa scanned the horizon. “How did no one hear him?”
“We’ve got black magic traces on the leg.” Clay zeroed in on me. “Can you sense any magic on the island that could tie it to this disappearance?”
Sometimes I hated being the authority on all things gruesome.
We didn’t all get to grow up to be sugar and spice and everything nice.