Gabe Bergeron knew that he was no detective, no matter what various officers of the law might think. He was just a bookkeeper, but Jukie had asked for his help in the disappearance of Erin Knauff.
Jukie wanted him to go to Erin's home in Philadelphia and knock. If she came to the door, then she wasn't dead even a little bit. And ergo, she was not at the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay as some people thought. Even a bookkeeper could handle that. Right?
But the lovely, smiling Erin didn't answer his knock. Well, she was lovely and smiling in the photos he had. And tanned, very tanned and oiled and skimpily clad.
But things really started to spin out of control when he couldn't find anyone who had seen her since she'd been vacationing on Swan Island, a marshy speck in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay.
Of course, her husband said she was fine.
