woke early the next morning, on fire with an idea.

First things first.

Cooper.

A ten-minute hike brought me to Morris Island’s western shore. I checked my bearings, located the ladder bunker, and climbed inside.

Coop yelped when he saw me, tail wagging out of control. Popping up on his back paws, he tried to lick my face.

I snuggled his head, drank in his warm puppy smell. Then I grabbed his rope and challenged him to a tug o’ war. He accepted with vigor.

For a few minutes, my problems receded. Coop was bigger now, strong enough to roam free. Thankfully, he restricted himself to the uninhabited western side of the island. No one in our neighborhood had reported sighting a stray wolfdog. Yet. Coop needed a permanent home, pronto.

“Soon,” I promised. “You won’t be stuck out here forever.”

I wanted to stay longer, but there wasn’t time. I slipped out while the puppy was wolfing down his breakfast.

It was going to be another hot one. Halfway back to the compound, I was sweating up a storm.

I buzzed the other Virals as soon as my phone caught a signal. We met on the front lawn.

“Whose parents aren’t home?” I asked.

Hi raised a hand. “Mine went to temple. They’ll be gone until noon.”

“Then we’ll use your computer.”

“What do we need to research?” Shelton asked.

“Who held title to Cole Island in 1969. Maybe the owner knew about the eagles, or at least can tell us who had access to the island. It’s a start.”

“Good idea,” Shelton said. “We can use the PIS.”

“PIS?” Hi asked. “What’s that? Online dating for nerds?”

“Hilarious. I’m talking about the county’s Property Information System. Land records are accessible there. You can get information about deeds, property lines, whatever. The owners of Cole Island should be listed.”

“Then the floor is yours,” I said.

We hustled up to Hi’s bedroom.

“Hold on a sec.” Hi pushed aside books, dishes, and piles of dirty clothes, trying to make room for all of us to sit. “Make yourselves at home.”

“You’re a pig.” Ben held up a greasy plate. “This pizza must be nine weeks old.”

“I’ve been looking for that!” Hi winged the slice into his wastebasket. “It’s probably still good, but why take a chance?”

“Gross.” Ben moved to the other side of the room.

“Sir, I apologize. I wasn’t expecting company this morning. You’re free to find other accommodations.”

“Come on,” I said. “We don’t have all day.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hi saluted. “Right away, ma’am.”

Hi booted his Mac, then moved aside.

Shelton pulled up the Charleston County home page and selected “View a parcel.” A black-and-white map appeared on the screen.

“This is a blueprint of the Charleston area,” Shelton explained. “It shows every property line.”

“Cole Island is southwest of Folly,” I said. “On the Stono River Inlet.”

“I’ll zoom that area.” Shelton magnified until individual parcels appeared. Cole Island remained one undivided block.

“Cole is a single piece of real estate,” Shelton said. “I’ll access the owner data.”

He clicked and property information appeared on the right side of the screen.

“Bingo!” Then Shelton whistled. “You’re not going to like this, Tory.”

“Won’t like what?”

“Cole Island is currently owned by Candela Pharmaceuticals, Inc.” His eyes found mine. “Ring any bells?”

“That’s the outfit that funded Karsten’s experiment,” I said. “Someone at Candela wrote the checks to him.”

“What could Karsten’s secret parvo research have to do with bald eagles?” Hi asked.

“Or Katherine Heaton?” Ben added.

“Candela must own the factory out on Cole Island,” Shelton said.

“Why would I not like that?” I asked.

“I wasn’t finished,” Shelton said. “I paused for dramatic effect.”

“Out with it,” Ben said.

“Guess who sold Cole Island to Candela?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Hollis Claybourne.” Shelton tapped the screen. “And it looks like he made a bundle.”

“Claybourne?” Ben scowled. “Are you talking about Chance’s father?”

“The very same,” Shelton said. “State Senator H. P. Claybourne, father of Bolton Prep’s golden boy. And it gets worse. Guess when Hollis made the sale.”

“When?” I had a bad feeling.

“January 4, 1970. Just a few months after Katherine Heaton disappeared.”

“Shady,” Hi said. “Heaton drops off the map, then Hollis sells the island.”

“That proves nothing,” I said. “It could be coincidence.”

Damn. That word again.

“It’s suspicious,” Shelton said. “Last night I searched the net, and didn’t find a single mention of eagles ever living on Cole Island. Obviously, they were never reported.”

I scrambled to make sense of things.

Chance Claybourne’s father, Hollis, owned Cole Island at the time Katherine Heaton was doing her school project. Katherine found bald eagles nesting on Cole. Soon thereafter, Katherine vanished. Months later, Hollis Claybourne sold Cole Island to Candela Pharmaceuticals. For boatloads of money.

What did it all mean?

“Can we learn more about Candela?” I asked.

“I’ll check the corporate records database.” Shelton’s fingers flew over the keys. “Bull’s-eye! Candela is registered in South Carolina. I can pull the filing documents.”

“That one.” I pointed to a PDF file. “Article of Amendment, dated January 5, 1970. That’s one day after Candela purchased Cole Island.”

Hi clicked to open the record. “Wow. This adds Hollis Claybourne as an officer and puts him on the Candela board of directors. They made him a vice president.”

“So Hollis sold Cole Island to Candela, and the next day they gave him a management job,” Hi said. “Sweet deal.”

“And no one ever reported the eagles,” said Ben.

“The eagles which are now gone,” I said.

“Replaced by a stupid factory.” Shelton’s lip curled in disgust. “What a bunch of jerks.”

Ben crossed his arms. “The Claybournes are involved in Heaton’s murder somehow.”

“Chance wasn’t even born yet.” For some reason I felt compelled to defend him. “And we can’t prove that the land sale connects to Katherine’s murder.”

“I sure hope Chance doesn’t know anything,” Hi said. “Because he analyzed our fingerprint. He could be playing us.”

Frick. Good point.

I put my hands to my temples. “Let me think this through.”

The boys rolled their eyes, but clammed up. They’d seen my concentration trick before. Eyes closed, I shut out the world. Focused on the variables. Ran the data.

Slowly, my brain gave me output.

I didn’t like it, but the logic was inescapable.

“Ben may be right.”

He raised the roof. I ignored him.

“So... Hollis kills Katherine to stop her from reporting the eagles,” I mused. “Then he sells Cole Island to Candela for a ton of cash and a cushy new job. Heaton is buried where no one will find her. No one ever learns about the birds.”

I poked at the theory. Prodded. Turned it this way and that in my head.

Then I nodded. “It’s logical. But this all happened a long time ago. Chance wouldn’t know anything.”

“Don’t forget about the checks to Karsten,” Hi added. “Hollis is a bigwig at Candela. He might know about the secret parvo experiment.”

“So you guys think Hollis Claybourne is the one trying to kill us?” Shelton asked. “That those were his men at the bunker?”

“It all adds up,” I said. “Everything we know points to him.”

“But he’s a millionaire. A state senator.” Shelton removed his glasses and wiped them on his shirt. “Why would he need to kill anybody, then or now?”

“No idea,” I said. “But this all started when we found Katherine’s bones. Only her murderer would be after us. And Hollis does have the resources to hire goons for his dirty work.”

I didn’t want to believe it. Chance’s father as our prime suspect? Madness. But the facts only pointed in one direction.

“Why would Hollis kill Dr. K?” Shelton asked. “If he was funding the parvo experiment, he’d want to keep the doctor alive.”

“To cover his tracks?” Ben suggested. “Karsten’s experiment was illegal. Maybe Karsten threatened to expose him.”

“Or maybe Karsten was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Hi said. “Collateral damage.”

“Enough.” I was tired of being jerked around. “We finally have a suspect. Now we need proof, not more speculation.”

“I doubt Hollis is going to confess,” Ben said. “He’s skated four decades so far.”

“Then we’ll find the evidence ourselves,” I said. “Today.”