Hot, dusty, and with no success in his search for a cell phone, Detective Rhys MacFarlane descended the slope from Mount Ada and walked down Wrigley Road. When he got into town, heading for the sheriff’s station, he suddenly veered off and headed down Descanso. He’d stop and talk to his friend John, he thought, and with luck he’d find out how Lexi was doing. Besides, John had his finger on the town pulse better than anyone he knew.
Moments later, he was sitting on the quiet back deck with John and Stina, sipping lemonade and listening to the whistle of a departing Express.
“Nice, isn’t it,” John observed. Summer afternoons during the week, islanders can hear the tempo getting slower and the quiet growing with each boat that departs for the mainland.
The comfortable thing about John and
