“Mia Hart, all grown up,” Sammy Bowdoin said when he spotted her and Izzy on the docks. He went in for the hug just as Mia held out her hand to shake his, and her knuckles brushed against his chest while his arms froze midair.

The awkwardness passed as quickly as it came. Sammy grinned and clapped a hand on her shoulder, the easy warmth still in his voice, despite whatever professional distance Mia had just worked to put between them. “Big fancy police detective you are, then?”

There was no bitter edge to Sammy’s words, not like she’d get from some people around here. For many of the locals, moving to the mainland, wanting something in life beyond the rough existence St. Lucy’s offered, was a deep betrayal.

But Sammy was still smiling, so Mia decided to take the words at face value.

“You’re one to talk, Dr. Bowdoin,” she said lightly, before turning to include Izzy in the conversation. “Sammy, this is Detective Isabel Santiago. She’ll be working the case with me.”

“Izzy,” her partner corrected, holding out a gloved hand.

Sammy’s smile turned tight at the corners, the warmth immediately gone. The reaction was predictable and tiresome, but it also wasn’t the complete cold shoulder Izzy would get from others. “Welcome to St. Lucy’s.”

If Izzy noticed the new emptiness to his voice, she ignored it. “Thanks, Doc.”

Grabbing the bags from where Mia and Izzy had dropped them, Sammy jerked his head back toward the village. “You’re staying at your mama’s, right? Do you want to stop there first or see the body?”

“The body,” Mia answered without hesitation. She had no interest in hastening that particular reunion. If there’d been a hotel on the island, Mia would have been staying there instead. But the rental options were limited, and one of the few there were had just become a crime scene. They were stuck with Edie Hart’s hospitality.

“Course.” Sammy started up the hill.

None of them tried to speak further above the wind, as they ducked their heads to fight through the gusts. Sammy took a left off Main Street, and they followed him to a mint-green one-story house that sat at the end of the side road.

They unbundled in the mudroom, stripping layers down until their bodies had shapes beyond vague lumps of fabric.

It was then Mia got her first good look at Sammy. Time had left him alone, for the most part, just like the rest of the island. Except for a few laugh lines, he looked nearly the same as he had in high school, his light brown hair just starting to go silver at the temples, his mouth too wide for his face, his nostrils a bit too flared.