The fish cabin had been given that name for a reason. That’s what it had been used for. Cleaning fish. They’d stopped using it for that purpose after a local game warden threatened to report the camp. He’d been half-joking, but the next week a camper threw up from the fumes, so Keith declared it abandoned.

Until now, apparently.

I’ve mentioned he’s a dickhead, right?

Fine. Whatever. I gave him a closed-mouth smile, though it was painful as hell to my cheeks. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

He held up his hands. “I was just thinking about your writing. It’s the most private place on the island.”

For a reason.

He laughed. “Besides, it’s not that bad anymore. We’ve had it cleared out over the last few summers, so just spray some of that nice-smelling stuff you girls wear and it should be as good as new.”

“I’ll make do.”

The fish cabin was at the tip of the island, closest to where the bridge and road came on to the island. My cabin would be north of the main lodge in the center of the island, and to the west of the village that had the nicest cabins. That was Morningside. There was a patch of trees between the main lodge and the basketball courts to the south, so my walk would be a nice long one each morning.

“What about the staff headquarters?” I asked.

That was a building in Morningside that the staff used mostly during weekends. It was a bit more relaxed than the rest of the camp facilities, but I knew they had jazzed it up recently. I saw pictures of it on social media.

“It’s not available. All the rooms are booked up.”

The definition of asshole: exhibit A. Keith, such a bitch boss. He’d put me in the smelliest cabin, farthest from everyone I knew, and the closest cabins to me would be booked with campers—campers I still hadn’t identified. Lovely.

“Where’s Helen?”

At least she’d be a welcome change. In her early sixties, she was the main receptionist at camp. She didn’t live too far away from the island, so it was an easy drive back and forth. Plus, she hated Keith as much as I did. We’d bonded over it, and I missed her.

A flash of guilt settled in my gut.

She’d been another one I stopped coming back to visit, stopped checking in with. Crap. The last I knew, Helen’s husband had medical problems. He could be dead by now.

Way to go, Charlie. Way to drop the ball on everyone.

Keith’s nose wrinkled and he rested his hands on his stomach. “Helen won’t be here for the three weeks.”

“What? Why?”