Page 5 of Archer

I tried “Island Adventures” and got a million hits, but the website was a single static page that hadn’t been updated since the internet was invented.

Typical. On an island only a couple of miles wide and a dozen miles long, most folks knew where to find things, and tourists drove past it all on their way in or out.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll try to get someone to secure the house and help me figure this out.”

Alexis sighed. “Get someone to secure you.”

“I will try.”

“Call me back when you have a plan. I don’t care what time it is. I want to know you’re safe tonight. I’ve already checked, and I can’t get a flight until tomorrow.”

“Don’t book a flight until I go see what this security place is about.”

“Call me back or I’ll be on your doorstep by breakfast.”

I disconnected and took a deep breath, staring at the music box on Gram’s kitchen table.

Hopefully Carolina Security would live up to the online hype, because I had nowhere else to run.

Chapter 3

Archer

The bell above Island Adventures’ front door chimed for the tenth time in an hour. Another family of tourists crowded inside. Three kids, two frazzled parents, and enough gear to summit Everest when all they wanted was a two-hour boat tour of the sound.

“We have a reservation,” the dad said, consulting his phone. “Family of five for the ten o’clock tour?”

I checked the schedule Knox had left on the counter. “Morrison party?”

“That’s us.”

“Knox and Sloane will be out in a minute. They’re preparing the boat now.” I gestured toward the rear of the building where the dock stretched into the sound. “You can wait outside on the deck if you’d like. Better view.”

The family shuffled away, and I returned my attention to the stack of rental agreements before me. Island Adventures had been busier than expected since Knox reopened it a few weeks ago. Winter was supposed to be the slow season, but the door never stopped opening. Tourists poured in from all over the globe in search of authentic outdoor experiences. Boating through salt marshes. Camping under the stars. Guided hikes through maritime forests.

I rolled my shoulders with a groan, unable to wipe the scowl from my face. I wasn’t new to the outdoors. I’d grown up in Fairytale, Colorado, a mountain town where hikers were more likely to run into a bobcat than an alligator, and I’d spent the better part of a decade in the Marines. Most of those years in the desert. But after a couple months of civilian life on an island, I was not adapting as quickly as I’d imagined to all the damn people.

Knox’s voice carried up from the dock and around the building before I saw him. His deep laugh was followed by Sloane’s lighter one, and they appeared together in the doorway a moment later, both windblown and grinning. Knox’s arm slung casually around his fiancée’s shoulders, and she looked delighted by all of it.

“Morrison party?” Knox asked.

I pointed outside. “On the deck.”

“Perfect.” Knox grabbed the headset with the microphone he used to talk about island history over the boat’s motor. “We should be back by four. You good holding down the fort?”

“I’d rather hold down a literal fort, but yeah, I’m good.”

Sloane smiled at me, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Thanks, Archer. We owe you dinner.”

“Help me find an apartment,” I muttered. Anywhere that wasn’t their guest room.

Knox grinned. “Still looking?”

“I can’t afford to buy a house out here yet, and it’s as if investors bought up every available property from Corolla to Ocracoke, specifically to rent weekly to tourists.”

Knox looked at Sloane. “He’s not wrong.”

“The apartments that look good are gone the minute they appear,” I complained.