I’m not the only one who likes breakfast for dinner.
She’d just returned from the interview with Greg Ledford when Tessa called, asking her to meet at the café. Tessa was now inside taking a report regarding a large group of young men who had dined and dashed. Cate could see the deputy talking with a young waitress. Tessa had told her the waitress was annoyed that the group had constantly made her run back and forth for stupid complaints and then not paid.
Tessa finally came out, bringing a fresh wave smelling of burgers, pancakes, and coffee.
“Was it tourists who dined and dashed?” asked Cate.
“Nope. It was the Wilkins boys and a group of friends.” She shook her head. “Did they really think no one would recognize them?”
“I don’t think ‘boys’ is the right term,” said Cate. “They’ve got to be in their early twenties by now.”
“They acted like boys.”
“True.”
“Their mom isn’t going to let them get away with it,” said Tessa. “Even if they don’t live at home anymore. I don’t envy them facing Debbie’s wrath after I tell her about it.”
“You’re going to report it to their mom?” Cate grinned.
“Yep. I have every faith that Debbie will take care of it.”
“I have no doubt.” The two women started to walk up the small hill in Bishopton. The town was adjacent to the ferry port and was often more crowded with tourists than North Sound. Bishopton was laid out so people could walk off the ferry and immediately find plenty of restaurants and little shops. It’d been a convenient place to meet upon Cate’s return. Both women were ready to update the other on their mornings.
“What did you find about the person who sold Marsha the jewelry?” asked Cate.
“Marsha said she’s bought jewelry from him three times and that it always sells well. Each time she’s bought some, she’s paid him more and also increased the price in her store.”
“It’s not a consignment?”
“No. She buys it outright.”
“That’s a little risky.”
“She says she knows what will sell in her store. She charges more than double what she pays for jewelry and rarely has to mark it down.”
“Sounds like she knows what she’s doing.”
“Anyway, I asked her to describe the seller. She guessed that he was around thirty-five. Said he’s very quiet and has a thick beard. She’s never seen anyone else come in with him, and she’s one hundred percent convinced that he makes the jewelry.”
“Hmm.” Cate didn’t know what to think about that. The age sounded too young for Rich, and he definitely wasn’t quiet, from Kori’s and his friends’ descriptions. Cate had a hard time picturing him as the quiet man talking to Marsha about his jewelry.
“She doesn’t have contact information for him. He claims he doesn’t have a phone. She said he insists on being paid in cash and told her that when he has more pieces to sell, he’ll simply show up. She said she wouldn’t be surprised if he was one of the survivor island types.” Tessa wrinkled her nose. “She said he was rather fragrant.”
“That fits what we know of Rich,” said Cate.
The closest “survivor island,” Elias Island, was not far off the southwest tip of Widow’s Island. Named for the founder of Widow’s Island—who was an ancestor of Cate’s—Elias Island attracted people who wanted to be left alone or small groups of survivalists, which was how it had earned the “survivor island” name. There were a few other islands in the area with the same types of populations. The survivor islands didn’t have power or plumbing and weren’t meant to be inhabited, but people lived on them anyway. The county sheriff looked the other way as long as they behaved. True problems on the islands were rare; the few residents preferred to avoid each other.