Free The Light Keeper's Legacy (A Chloe Ellefson Mystery) by Kathleen Ernst Page A

ground.
    Ragna lifted the lantern. No one looked hurt. The fish boxes were full. They are safe, Ragna told herself. Her men were safe. She filled her lungs with damp air, perfectly aware of the stones beneath her, the soft splash of waves against the shore, the scent of woodsmoke lingering in the night.
    Finally she asked, “ Why? What happened? Why are you so late?”
    “Trouble with the buoys,” Carl mumbled.
    That made no sense. Ragna looked at Anders in confusion.
    He crawled to the boat, reached inside, and retrieved … half a buoy. The portion that should have poked from the water was gone. The weighted end of the pole was intact, but the staff had been severed — neatly sawed in two. Someone had done this.
    Anders spoke for the first time, and his voice quivered with suppressed fury. “Every buoy was destroyed, right at the waterline. We had no way to find our nets. We couldn’t lose them … or the fish … so we just kept searching. Rowing back and forth, back and forth. For hours.”
    “But—but why?” Ragna whispered. “Why?”
    “I don’t know why,” Anders muttered.
    Ragna thought of Carrick Dugan and his threats, his eyes narrowing as he watched her from beneath some cedar trees, her relief when he’d stayed away from the picnic. She might not understand why, but she was pretty sure she knew who.

Fourteen
    After leaving the village meadow, Chloe made it around the island in time to watch the Karfi arrive. Eight or ten day-visitors disembarked, plus a couple of people with camping gear. Chloe waited while Garrett checked the campers in at the contact station. “Hey,” she said when he was free.
    “Glad you stopped by,” Garret said. “I’ve given Herb Whitby permission to bring a painter out to the lighthouse this week. I’m sorry it has to happen while you’re here, but we’re behind schedule.”
    “No problem,” Chloe assured him, remembering Sylvie’s irritation about that issue. Herb either had a wish for power or a thick skin to persevere in the face of criticism. “So … has the young woman who drowned been identified?”
    He shook his head. “I’m guessing whoever she was with panicked, and hasn’t reported her death. That sometimes happens when drugs or booze are involved. If—can I help you?” He paused to speak to a visitor who’d returned. “Yes, you’re welcome to go inside the Viking Hall. Just flip the lights on.”
    “We tried,” the man said. “They’re all burned out.”
    Garret gave Chloe a quick Why me? look before turning back to the guest. “I’m sorry. There must be something wrong with a circuit. I’ll have my maintenance man take a look.”
    The joys of being in charge never end, Chloe thought. She waited until the guest left before speaking. “So if the girl’s parents or friends didn’t know she was going out on the lake, they might eventually report a missing person, but no one would know to check for drowning victims.”
    “At least not right away,” Garrett agreed. He locked the contact booth and they began walking up the hill. “It’s always possible that the victim was boating alone.”
    “Well, I don’t know about that.” Chloe told him about the cairn and pebble N she’d found on the beach.
    “I need to document this. I can put out a bulletin, see if any young women with N names show up on missing persons lists.”
    They stopped at the park office so Garrett could leave a note for Mel and grab a camera. Room with a view, Chloe thought enviously, admiring the panorama below as he rummaged for a new roll of film. Then she stepped sideways to study a map—the one he’d mentioned, drawn by a developer who’d fought to keep the state from purchasing the island for a park. The park landing area had been slated for a hotel and condos. The peaceful eastern shore she’d just visited was parceled into lots—some even labeled with presumptive buyers: Stenhoffer, Owings, Kopecky, Brown. Not a Scandinavian name among them. Probably