Although Seth had covered up his disappointment well with a soft chuckle, his eyes mirrored everything he felt. She knew he was worried about her and had been disappointed she hadn’t asked him to come. In the end, he had to settle for feeding her, arranging for a reliable rental car, and stocking her sedan with Harper-worthy munchies. Field-tested eats, he’d called them. Jess didn’t get on the road until early afternoon and had nearly nine long hours ahead of her.
She’d arrive well after dark at a remote location she’d never been to. And the only ferry making the trek to Madeline Island stopped at midnight. If anything went wrong, it would be close, but lingering with Seth in Chicago had been worth it.
She ached, having to leave Harper behind. Even Floyd had grown on her. She tried to imagine living with someone else, especially someone like Harper. She kept odd hours, took risks, and had never answered to anyone. The abuse she had suffered in the past was a strong driver for the woman she had become. Could she change the way she looked at the world for him? Despite the fact that she loved Seth, how would she feel about sharing her life?
Self-doubt had always been her number one enemy. It was easier to picture Harper getting tired of her than the other way around. When anything good happened, her first response was to beat herself up over it. And things hadn’t changed much over the years. By the time she made it to Bayfield and the ferry, she had a wad of tension in her stomach the size of Floyd’s head.
“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” she muttered.
Jessie bought passage on the Madeline Island Ferry Line and pulled her vehicle onto the loading zone behind a guy in a red pickup. In no time, she was waved onto the ferry and told where to park. She could have stayed in her rental car for the half-hour ride to the island, but the moonlight dappled on the water was far too enticing. Jessie headed for the bow of the ferry and let the cool breeze tousle her hair.
In the distance, she saw the lights from La Pointe, a small town shining its beacon along the shoreline of Lake Superior. No big-city lights spoiled the incredible canopy of stars over her head. She took a deep breath and leaned against the railing, feeling incredibly small and inconsequential.
Whatever she learned the next day from Chief Cook would change everything she knew about her mother. She felt certain of that. She wanted to brace herself for what would come next, but she had no idea what that might be.
She had just begun to think her life had turned a corner, with Seth and Alexa and her best friend, Sam Cooper, in her life. And working for the Sentinels had been a step in the right direction, too. It meant she had a steady income and could leave behind her ratty Chicago apartment and the scumbags she had tracked for money as a bounty hunter, working one bail jumper at a time.
If she learned that her past was darker than she could have imagined, what new ways would she find to punish herself for coming from a crappy gene pool? Jessie shut her eyes when she felt the sting of tears. Wallowing in self-pity had its appeal, but the ferry had docked, and she’d arrived at La Pointe.
After she’d disembarked from the ferry, she got a better look at the small harbor town. The place wasn’t much more than a few dimly lit streets that intersected. A visitor would have to work damned hard to get lost.
Except for a few bars, La Pointe was closed for the night. Most of the other businesses were geared for the tourist trade. Gift shops, quaint cafes, realty offices, and motels with self-serve Laundromats lined the narrow streets. When she located the police station, it was on the main drag across from a diner and a local watering hole, with a motel only a short walk away.
“Looks like I’ve struck the mother lode.”
Jessie pulled into a parking spot near a motel that had a flashing red neon sign claiming it had a vacancy. Once she got out of her car, the sound of waves ebbing against the shoreline haunted her memory like a tune she was desperately trying to remember. La Pointe had triggered something in her that she couldn’t quite put a finger on.
Only occasional laughter and jukebox music coming from a nearby bar interrupted her trip down memory lane. The remote location and the small size of the town made her wonder about her connection to it all. The place probably had a thriving tourist trade, and, during the day, it no doubt had its merits; but at night, it left her feeling lonely and on edge. Every shadow held demons from a past she needed to know more about.
Standing outside her car, Jessie looked around. There wasn’t much to see this time of night, but she got a real hinky vibe when she thought about living in a town like this. There’d be no place to hide from who you were, and everyone would know your business, or think they knew it. Living in a place like La Pointe would be a disaster for someone like her. That was why living with hordes of strangers, like she had in Chicago and New York, had been a major relief. Except for Sam and Harper, no one knew her story. And she could reinvent herself whenever she felt the need.
Jessie looked into the window of the motel office and saw the light of a TV cutting the shadows in a room behind the counter. Someone was up. Her hiking boots crunched gravel until she hit the wooden boardwalk in front of the motel. When she stepped inside the front door, a doorbell tinkled overhead. The cramped space was filled to the rafters with knickknacks for sale, small-sized containers of toiletries, gum, and breath mints, and plenty of snacks even Harper would endorse.
“You come off the last ferry?” The motel clerk stepped out from the room where she’d seen the TV.
Jessie spied the clerk’s name posted on a wall plaque behind the counter. Byron McGivens.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did. You got a room, Byron?”
“Sure do.” He worked the keyboard of his computer and kept talking. “If you came off that ferry, did you drive from somewhere or just walk on?”
“I drove up from Chicago.” She was tired enough to let Byron’s prying get to her. “What’s with the twenty questions?”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.” He shrugged and had a hard time looking her in the eye. “Living in a small town, you get curious, that’s all.”
Jessie hadn’t noticed before, but the guy got a little antsy when she pushed back on his questions. She’d probably overreacted.
“Sorry. Guess I’m a little tired.”
After an awkward moment, the guy broke the ice.
“Okay, I’ve got another question, but this one’s business. How long you stayin’?”
“Not sure.” Jessie narrowed her eyes. “Can I tell you later?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
The guy had on a royal blue T-shirt with the name Madeline Island printed in white across his chest. He looked to be in his thirties, with dark thinning hair and a day’s worth of scruffy growth. After she handed him her credit card, the clerk had another request.
“I’m gonna need to see some ID.”
“Sure.” She fished for her driver’s license and handed it to him.
“You can never be too careful these days,” he said after he’d taken a good look at her ID and handed it back. “I’ve got you in number 12. Less road noise there. You can park around back.”
“Thanks.”
Jessie took her room key and headed to her car. She drove around back and carried in her one bag. The motel room was basic. Near the front door was a window with an air conditioner below it. One table was tightly squeezed next to the queen bed, with the bathroom toward the back and plenty of shag carpet in between. The room smelled moldy, like every other low-rent place she’d ever stayed in.
“Just like home.”
Before she unpacked, Jessie reached for her cell phone and hit her speed dial, making a call to the one guy who could make her feel better.
Harper.
“Hey,” she said quietly, finding solace in the sound of his sleepy voice. “It’s me.”
“You told me to call. A woman checked in just now.”
