Widow's Wreath by Cynthia Riggs

Author:Cynthia Riggs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

Chapter Eighteen

Rocco awoke with sunlight streaming through the single window into his small room. A ray of sunlight touched the old bureau across from the foot of his bed, giving it an antique finish.

He rubbed his eyes, not knowing where he was at first. When it came back to him, he sat up with a jolt, hitting his head on the low ceiling that angled over his bed. He checked his phone. Still early.

He had to get off this Island, and right now.

Sunlight cast a shadow of the window on the floor by his bed. The shadow was of the wooden muntins that divided the window into six small panes, and when he looked down, he saw shadows of prison bars.

I’ve got to stop thinking like that, he thought. I haven’t done anything that would send me to prison. But the thought of Sergeant Smalley and the sheriff suggesting they could hold him in the jail for—what, four days? He’d go crazy. He’d just plain go crazy.

I’ve got to get out of here, and soon, he thought. I’ve got to get off this rock. They’ll identify the body eventually. DNA. Teeth. Something. They’ll charge me with impeding a murder investigation. They’ll bring me in as a suspect. I’d better be far, far away before that happens. At the very least they’ll imprison me for not identifying the body.

He sat on the side of the small bed. A pretty good mattress. He’d had a decent night’s sleep despite everything that happened yesterday. How had everything gone so wrong in such a short time?

After he’d checked out of the Turkey Cove Inn yesterday, he’d found this bed and breakfast. No one would find him here. When he booked the room, he’d left his overnight case with his bare essentials here. Most of his stuff—his clothing, his paperwork—was still in his car.

Did he dare get it? The clothes were expensive, bought to impress his wealthy bride. He couldn’t afford to lose them or his papers.

He yawned and scratched his chest under his pajama shirt.

He’d have to find his way back into that maze of the Campground and get it. Did he dare do that?

Dominic could get it for him. Was he still in the hospital? If they discharged him, he would have to find Dominic. He’d call and hope Dominic had his cell phone with him and that it was charged up. Then they’d meet somewhere and he’d get off the Island.

Was there anyone else he could trust? Not really.

There were the three guys he’d invited to the wedding, partly to have someone sitting on the groom’s side of the church and partly because he owed all three, and what better way to pay them back than an invite to a Martha’s Vineyard wedding? They actually owed him, come to think of it.

He didn’t know Red well. The kid took care of greyhounds at the track, cleaned their cages and fed them. He owed Red something because of killing those two mangy dogs of his.

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