by Nancy Bush
Rob Illingsworth had been glaring down at his wife. Jackie’s head was lolled against the back of the chair near the fireplace, her eyes closed. He said something under his breath, then as if realizing he wasn’t alone, looked around the room. He focused on Sam and then lifted his own beer bottle to him.
“You’re the guy whose ankle Brady Delacourt took out in high school, aren’t you?” he said. “You guys were on the same team. The Hawks.”
“Yep. It happened during the game against Astoria.”
Rob left Jackie and joined Sam’s group, who were all heading back outside. The clouds had taken over the sun completely, turning everything cool and dark. “I was good friends with Brady. My family had a summer place in Cannon Beach. He was a big son of a bitch. Even bigger now.” He put down his empty and grabbed another beer, nodded to Scott Keppler, who’d poured himself a glass of red wine, a new bottle as the one Sam had brought was already gone. “Too much money, right?” He shot a good-natured glance toward Hap, who was leaning up against the rail, his dark hair teased by the breeze. “It’s kinda going around.”
Hap reminded easily, “You’ve done all right, Rob.”
“Hell, I’m not complaining. No, sir. Everything’s going pretty damned well. I have no complaints about Joe.”
There was a loaded pause and a woman behind Sam cleared her throat. She came into view and he saw it was someone new. She looked around the group and focused in on Sam. “Hi, I’m Joanie, Joanie Bledsoe,” she introduced herself, still studying his features and connecting the dots. “You must be Joe’s brother. Tutti said she’d invited you. I’m really sorry about everything. Such a shock. I’m still reeling, and I’m sure you are.” She wore very little makeup and her smooth brown hair was held at her nape with a tortoiseshell clip. Her dress was a blue pinafore over a white blouse, very earth-mothery.
“Traffic was a nightmare from Seaside. That’s why I’m late,” she went on. “The commute to work’s gotten to be just awful. I came into Tutti’s a little earlier, but you were all watching the news. My girls want to use the kayaks and stop by later, so I dropped them off before driving back here. So . . . sorry I’m late.” She smiled faintly and looked around, to see if anyone had heard her excuse, then turned back to Sam. “I’m planning to go see Julia. I’m worried sick about her. Think I can see her tonight?”
“Maybe,” Sam said, studying her. Joanie was all over the place. “Jules is being released tomorrow.”
“Oh. I didn’t know. You think I should wait?” She peered at him closely. “She’s such a great friend of mine. I really want to see her.”
“Leave it till tomorrow, Joanie,” Scott Keppler said. There was something long suffering in his tone that said maybe he’d had more than a few dealings with her.
“I just want to make sure she’s okay.” Joanie pointed toward Hap and Martina’s house for Sam’s benefit. “I’m further down the way, on the same side of the canal. My two daughters are friends of Georgie. I’m so glad she wasn’t on the boat with Joe and Julia.” At Sam’s silence, she said, stricken, “Oh, no! She wasn’t, was she? Oh, God!”
“No, no. Georgie wasn’t on the boat. She’s with her mother. She’s fine.”
“She’s with Gwen?”
Sam nodded, then realized Joanie had more to say on the matter. “Why?” he asked.
“Well, I’m not one to talk out of turn, I’m just surprised, that’s all. Gwen’s not . . . well, she’s not exactly mother of the year, if you know what I mean. But thank the Lord Georgie wasn’t here for this tragedy. You know—well, of course you do—Georgie’s living with Joe and Julia, not Gwen. She hasn’t lived with Gwen for years. I know it’s summer, but honestly, they just don’t get along. Mothers and daughters, sometimes . . . Luckily I’ve always been close to mine. What?” she demanded to the snickering that was going on between Hap and Rob Illingsworth.
“You’re not one to talk? Oh, come on, Joanie,” Rob said with a big smile.
Sam thought she was going to come unglued, but instead she just shook her head at him and dredged up a return smile. To Sam, she went on, “My daughters, Xena and Alexa, do everything with Georgie, but Gwen . . . well, she’s got a life of her own. She and Joe weren’t a good fit like he is . . . was . . . with Julia.” Her face fell. “It’s just impossible to think of Joe as dead. I’m glad, so glad, Julia is okay. I just feel terrible.”
“We all do,” Zoey said, unashamedly eavesdropping as she waltzed up.
“What are her injuries?” Bette Ezra asked. She dipped a cracker into an artichoke dip from the table and said, “I mean, specifically. Nothing super serious, I hope?”
“Broken collarbone. Head trauma,” Sam said again.
“Somebody here said she can’t remember the accident,” Bette said, nibbling on her cracker.
“That’s right.” And not much else, either.
“How’d the boat catch fire in the first place?” Stuart put in, eyeing his wife’s cracker and turning toward the dip as well.
Sam had a vision of his brother stowing a five-gallon can of gasoline on the boat and his stomach clenched. “Unknown,” he said shortly.
“Must have been a terrible accident,” Joanie said.
“Well, yeah,” Zoey rejoined. “What else could it be?” She looked over at Sam, the glint of challenge in her eye.
Everyone else turned toward Sam, too, as if expecting an answer.
Chapter Ten
Tutti moved closer to hear Sam’s answer to Stuart. Hap and Illingsworth ceased talking, and Byron hovered by Zoey. The little group was tight around him; Sam was the center of attention and it made him more than a little uncomfortable. Despite the wind kicking up a bit and the party being outside, he felt suddenly claustrophobic. He’d come here searching for answers, but he, being Joe’s brother, had been elevated to some kind of quasi-celebrity status and was the one being questioned.
“Any theories?” Stuart asked.
“What else could it be?” Sam said, echoing Zoey. He wasn’t going to believe Joe had set fire to the boat himself.
“Maybe the engine caught fire,” Tutti said.
No, it was a gas fire. Deliberately changing the subject, Sam asked, “Does anyone else have a key to Joe and Jules’s house? Tutti gave me hers. I’m trying to lock things up. Make sure it’s all safe, since Jules will be there alone when she gets home. Just want to know if there’re other keys out there.”
Bette said, “We have one. We exchanged keys with Joe and Julia. Georgie watches our dogs sometimes.”
“And she damn near got her hand bitten off by that big one,” Joanie said, crossing her arms.
“Less was just playing,” Stuart assured her.
Bette was nodding and glanced across the canal where her dogs were both now standing at attention. “He . . . he wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“He’s a goddamn guard dog and he’s fucking scary!” a woman’s voice hollered furiously.
Everyone turned around to see Jackie standing belligerently by the back door, another martini in hand.
“Jesus, Jack,” Rob muttered. He went to his wife, looking pissed. When he put his hand on her shoulder she shrugged it off and walked unsteadily back inside. Rob followed her in and some of the others who had clustered around Sam backed off a bit, turning their attention elsewhere.
“She’s a mess,” Zoey muttered, burying her nose in her own wineglass.
“No more than usual,” Byron muttered. “A textbook case of why marriage doesn’t work.”
Zoey made a face, then said to Sam in a bored voice, “Byron loves any opportunity to put down marriage. Any opportunity at all. But that’s not Jackie’s problem. You know what it is?”
Sam really wanted to know about the keys, but he shrugged and waited.
Zoey glanced over to Bette and Stuart Ezra, who were talking to Joanie Bledsoe and Scott Keppler. Tutti was with them, too, though she kept fussing with her hair, as if she wasn’t into the conversation.
“Jackie’
s pissed off because Stuart has no interest in her anymore. She came with money, and so that interested him for a while, but now he’s moved on to . . . Tutti.”
Byron groaned. “You’re such a bitch,” he declared.
“Oh, shut up. It’s the worst kept secret on the canal.” Zoey lifted her chin. “You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. Sam might as well, too. Right, Sam?” She turned to him. “You’re here because of your brother. You want to know what happened to him, and Tutti gave you an opportunity to meet us all. So, now you’re thinking, which one of us did it, right? Like it wasn’t just an accident, no matter what you say, and all of us are all up in each other’s business? You want to know who’s close to Joe and Julia, close enough to maybe use their boat or have a key or—”
“Jesus Christ.” Byron stomped off from her as two ducks landed on the water and the dogs across the canal started up a ruckus.
Zoey watched him leave, her jaw set. “He makes me crazy,” she said unhappily. “But I’m not wrong, am I?” she asked as Bette yelled across the canal and the dogs, surprisingly, shut up as the ducks, flapping and quacking their indignation, flew into the darkening sky.
“About Jackie? I don’t know.”
“About you, Sam.”
“I want to know what happened to my brother, yeah.”
“Was it an accident?” she persisted.
“You know, Zoey, when I find out, I’ll let you know.”
She snorted, then sent him a sideways smile. “Okay. Sorry. Sometimes I just want people to just say what they’re thinking. And in answer to your question, we don’t have a key, Byron and me. But around here with all those kids . . . Rob and Jackie’s boys, and Joanie’s girls, they’re in and out of each others’ houses all the time, y’ know. And then there’s Tutti’s kids with their damned drone,” she said disparagingly. “She says she makes them take it to the beach, but she doesn’t. They don’t listen to her. And that thing could drive us all fucking batshit, and those dogs . . . they go nuts.” She shot Less and More an unkind look though they’d stopped barking and were now just sitting and watching the party in silence. “Luckily, Tutti’s kids are only here on the weekends. But none of them would give a shit about who has whose keys.”
Sam made an executive decision and decided to be upfront with Zoey. “The first time I went into Jules and Joe’s house, there was a note on the counter. It said ‘Cardaman file.’ Like it was a reminder of something. I went in later and it was gone. Someone came in and removed it.”
“Cardaman.” Zoey frowned. “Well, couldn’t it have just fallen down or something? Got stuck somewhere?”
“That was my first thought, but I searched. It’s not there.”
“The Cardaman file,” she said again. “Huh. You should ask Hap about that. He’s the finance guy.”
“What do the Ezras do?” Sam asked, given the opportunity.
“Bette’s all into yoga and fitness and all that namaste stuff. Stuart? He’s in sales of some kind, I think. Maybe cars. Last week he was talking about the new Mercedes truck, or whatever, like he could have an orgasm over it.”
“Is he really seeing Tutti?” Sam asked.
Zoey lowered her voice. “I don’t know for sure. I was just kind of being bitchy to Byron. Ask Julia about Stuart. She never said, but I think she caught him with someone. Stuart’s kind of a horndog. But Tutti? She’s still in love with that asshole Dirk, no matter what she says. The bastard. Jackie . . . she’s another case altogether. She might’ve been with Stuart. Joanie said she saw her in Seaside with some older man, but Joanie always goes for the drama. Jackie’s problem is she drinks too much. Period.”
“Huh,” Sam said. It all sounded like just gossip, but Zoey seemed fairly tapped in to the goings-on on Fisher Canal. “How was . . . Joe and Jules’s relationship?” he asked diffidently.
“Good, I guess.” She smiled faintly. “How did that happen? I’ve always wanted to know. You were with her and then you married”—she glanced over at Martina, who was out of earshot but seemed to be watching them like a hawk—“that. And then your brother’s with Julia.”
“Things happen,” Sam said, tipping up his bottle and finishing his beer.
It was as if some silent command had been issued because everyone began moving toward the barbecue en masse. Even Jackie came back outside, with Rob Illingsworth’s hand firmly clasped around her upper arm to keep her on her feet. Sam filled his own plate with ribs, a scoop of upscale macaroni and cheese from the Ezras, and a healthy helping of Byron and Zoey’s mixed green salad, heavy with kale, dried cranberries, jicama, and sunflower seeds, and dressed with something lemony and light.
Sam had been living on fast food and diner fare for so long that it was a pleasure to have a real meal. He took his plate down to the dock, sank into one of the chairs, and just ate.
Martina came down the steps, plate in hand, mostly salad. “May I join you?”
He silently gestured to another chair. He didn’t actively dislike his ex-wife, but he wasn’t seeking out her company, either.
“I heard what Zoey said. About why you came here tonight.”
“Tutti invited me because I’m Joe’s brother and I was at the house, and she thought I’d like to meet some of the people who live on the canal, you know, get out a little bit.”
“Yeah, but you came to learn about Joe and Julia. I don’t blame you. I want to know what happened, too. So does Hap.”
Sam had questions of his own and Martina seemed to want to talk. He asked, “What’s the true financial connection between Hap and Joe? Is Cardaman somehow involved?”
“Cardaman. Ask Hap. I don’t know. I don’t think either of them had anything to do with that man. His clients are screwed.” Her face set harder. “My dad’s one of them.”
Sam said in some surprise, “Your father?”
“That’s right. Mom and Dad moved to Portland, and they’re renting a place. They have to be careful now.”
“I’m sorry. What about . . . Walter Senior?”
“Oh, Hap’s dad’s still okay. He knows how to hang on to a dollar. He’s not handing over anything to Hap, no matter what everybody says. Hap’s gotta do the dance for his father. He never paid attention to the company when he was younger. Just wanted to play football. But he got injured right away in college and that was over. Now he has to beg for every little crumb. What an idiot.”
“Huh,” Sam said.
“Oh, Hap’s an ass. He’s always been an ass. He’ll always be an ass. Why don’t you ask what’s really on your mind?”
“What’s really on my mind?” Sam wondered.
“‘Tina, why are you with Hap, if he’s such an ass?’ The answer is, I don’t know. He’s not a horrible guy and I’ve met some horrible guys. After you and I split up, I went to Seattle, and I met horrible guy after horrible guy. Now, I just want to settle down and have things be better.” She gazed at him frankly. “Wish things had worked out for you and me, sugar.”
This was definitely dangerous territory. “We weren’t good for each other,” Sam said carefully.
“I wasn’t good for you, not the other way around. And I wasn’t good for myself, either. But I’m better now.”
This new Martina worried Sam, so he simply nodded and let the subject lie. The Tina he’d met earlier in the day, the one standing beside Hap on the porch outside Joe and Jules’s house in the clingy blue dress, heels, and smart attitude. . . that was the one he recognized.
“I also overheard you tell Zoey there was a note about Cardaman that disappeared. If I were you? I’d check with the teenagers,” Martina advised. “Tutti’s boys, Sean and Devon? They popped in and out yesterday. Maybe they did it. They’re troublemakers, but then, hey, weren’t we all back in the day?”
“I thought they only came on weekends.”
“Yeah, well, I saw them on this very dock. Dirk came and picked them up, and I heard Tutti invite him to the barbecue, but of course he wouldn’t come.”
Sam had seen Tutti on her deck when he’d first gotten to Joe and Jules’s, then again later. Both times she’d been alone. “Maybe because she calls him the bastard.”
“He is the bastard,” Tina said, shivering a little at a kicky evening breeze. “He left her for somebody in his office.”
“What kind of office?”
“Chiropractor. Guess they were using the tables for more than just ‘adjustments.’”
“Zoey inferred that something might have happened between Tutti and Stuart.”
“Maybe . . .” Martina made a face. “Stuart thinks he’s all that. But rumor has it he was really with Jackie. Maybe he’s the one who drove her to drink.” She laughed shortly. “I don’t know how Bette stands it. She just kind of ignores it all and hopes it goes away, I guess. But Stuart and Tutti . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t see it, do you?”
Sam looked over to where Stuart was still talking with his wife and Scott Keppler, who was putting out a cigarette into an ashtray Tutti had set out on the deck rail. Tutti was a few feet away, looking at Stuart, but Sam wasn’t sure what her expression meant. She seemed to be thinking hard about something, but it didn’t seem like . . . lust.
“So, what about you?” Tina asked. She had moved the lettuce leaves around on her plate but he hadn’t seen her eat a bite. All she’d done was lift her wineglass to her lips. “I mean, I know this is a terrible time and all, but what are you doing? You quit the force and . . . that’s where you are?”
“That’s about it.” Sam had finished eating everything but the barbecued ribs and now picked up one of them, biting into the meat and effectively cutting off conversation . . . until some of the other Fishers decided to join them.
Hap was first down the stairs, a bottle of wine held loosely in one hand, his glass in the other. He poured himself a drink and said, “So, Sam, you’re not moving into the house?” He nodded across the canal.
“Nope,” Sam mumbled.
Stuart, Bette, and Scott Keppler followed behind with Joanie and Tutti on their heels. Rob and Jackie were still on the upper deck, and it appeared Rob was giving his wife a serious talking-to.