The roads were as familiar to him now as those in White Pine, and so he drove through the historic district, stopping to allow pedestrians when they wished to cross at the intersections. That was the law. More people than he remembered seeing, and he supposed this was just a taste of the foot traffic soon to hit Cane’s Inlet. Every business was open, he noticed, and there was a sense that the town had awakened from its winter slumber with a burst of sunlit optimism. Prosperity was the end game here, and for the next three months nothing else mattered but making a living which would keep them going for an entire year. Which is why he needed to learn the truth before the season began.
After Memorial Day, his life would be about the Medusa, about raking in a fortune Captain Minotaur would en
