Sylvia had arrived and stuck a coffee in her hand then disappeared again. The caffeine helped. So did sitting across from Connor. He grounded her. They’d been in the middle of a difficult discussion. She’d kept pushing, couldn’t stop herself. The questions rolled out of her. She wanted to know about him, to make him see that the sister he loved was never really far from his thoughts, despite his insistence he was fine. Then they found the body and nothing else mattered.

He reached his hand across the table and covered hers. “You okay?”

“No.” She knew he wasn’t any better. He’d gagged more than once waiting for Ben to arrive at the cabin. “Are you?”

“Seeing blood makes me queasy.”

She understood. It’s why she looked away. The idea that the poor man lay out there all alone while his life ran out of him doubled her over. “I guess you didn’t play sports growing up then.”

“I played soccer from the time I was little through college. Had my share of injuries. Once saw Hansen snap a bone to the point where it poked through his skin.” He stared at a spot on the table. Kept all his attention focused there. “Ever since we lost Alexis, I can’t see blood without thinking of her.”

Her heart flipped over. The pain stayed there, right at the surface. Spurred him on. Changed him.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” He sat back in his chair. The move had his palm sliding against the table, away from her, until he put it on his lap. “So what happens now? I don’t fully get how this island works. Do the police fly in or what?”

She wasn’t in the mood to give a history lesson but the nonsense topic might keep both of their minds off of what they’d seen. “Ben is in charge but with something like this, at least last time, state investigators arrived. For a few days, they swarmed and asked questions and spent a lot of time with Ben.”

Connor tried to imagine how much the residents must hate the intrusion. “Damn.”

“I’m not sure exactly what the chain of command is, but Ben basically is Whitaker’s law enforcement. After last summer, he hired a full-time assistant, but he’s in training off Whitaker right now. So he’s no help.”

“Convenient.” When she stared at him, Connor realized he sounded a bit off. “I wasn’t saying it was a conspiracy. Just throwing out a word.”

“Maybe some of Whitaker’s paranoia rubbed off on you.”

“Let’s hope not.” No, really. He hoped not.

“Anyway.” She cleared her throat as if she were about to launch into a long speech. “Ben also has a few voluntary assistants and Doc Lela handles the forensics.”