They didn’t attempt any more conversation as they worked their way past the houses down toward the shops that lined the two streets right off the docks. Quinn’s glorified tourist stand with a door was next to the ferry ticket booth.

A small bell chimed as Mia and Izzy walked in.

Izzy didn’t bother stripping down beyond her scarf. The office was set to a temperature that favored a low heating bill over human comfort.

The space was long and narrow, just wide enough for the desk that took up three-fourths of the floor toward the back of the shop. A woman with frizzy brown hair held down by a purple hat glanced up at the sound of their heavy boots on her carpet. Her face was pointy, her lips thin. Thick eyebrows pulled together as she looked down at her desk and then back at them. “Ferry office is next door.”

“Quinn Thomas?” Mia asked.

There was a pause, a consideration. As if even confirming who she was would be some kind of admission. “Who’s asking?”

“Lord,” Izzy drawled out under her breath.

Quinn’s attention was locked on Mia, though, recognition flickering across her face. “Mia? Mia Hart?”

Mia nodded, just once. “Yes.”

The suspicion melted to be replaced by a surprising smile that changed the woman’s face from odd to pretty. “Man, it’s been ages.”

The warmth of the welcome faded. “Ah, if you’re trying to get off the island, can’t do it. Storm’s not done yet. Sorry.”

“No, we’re here for a little bit.” Mia stepped closer to the desk, and Quinn gestured for her to sit. Izzy followed suit. There were maps papering the walls, some obviously antiques, others the kind you could pick up at a gas station, the yellows and pinks and purples denoting different islands. The one hanging closest to them had come unstuck at one of the corners, and Izzy pressed her fingers to the loose bit, trying to smooth it down.

“Ah, well then, what brings you in here?” Quinn asked the question to Mia, still studiously avoiding Izzy.

“Actually, your noon appointment does. Robert Twist,” Mia said. “I’m with the mainland police department. We’re investigating his death.”

There wasn’t even a second of surprise. Word really did get around quick.

“Don’t know what I can tell you.” Quinn shrugged, her fingers toying with the ledger she had open on her desk. Izzy watched Mia watching them. The woman had a thing about hands. Said they gave away secrets every time. Izzy was starting to think Mia knew enough about hiding that she could easily recognize it in others. “Didn’t even know the guy. Just talked to him a couple times about some trips.”

“That’s all I want to know,” Mia said, her tone friendly, mellow. “Was he planning on flying back to the mainland today?”

“No. He was headed toward San Sebastian.”