I milled around on the dock, my red sneaker playing with a piece of wood poking up from one of the boards. I shoved my hands into my oversized trench coat, drawing it tighter around me as the damp fog continued to roll in.
My gaze finally raised to the choppy waters that separated me from my destination. Stormy Island. I rolled my eyes at the name, though at the moment it seemed fitting.
I pictured a dark cloud hanging over top of it while thunder and lightning bombarded the distant island. It was to be my destination for the weekend. Why, I still wasn’t certain.
My fingers found the edge of the note I’d received at my fledgling detective agency the day before last. I dug it out and unfurled it. The paper, limp from the damp air and my constant toying with it, flopped over in my hands as I, once again, read the information.
Dear Charlotte “Charlie” Reed,
Congratulations on opening your new detective agency. Your ambition has not gone unnoticed.
If you would like to start what I am certain will be your illustrious career with a bang, I invite you to my island this weekend for a house party. It is certain to be an illuminating time and a life-changing experience.
Bring formal wear for dinners and a weapon. I am certain you will need it. The weapon, that is, though you will need the formal wear, too.
Yours truly,
Alexander Drake
Instructions for arrival followed the note along with a prepaid retainer for seven times the rate I normally charged. I folded it and glanced around the area again. If there was to be a house party, I would have expected other guests. Had they already been shuttled to the island?
