“Careful where you step,” Clancy said. “If the dogs start crowding you, just let me know.”
His mother chuckled. “I’ve been walking these old crooked lanes for forty-five years and the dogs are perfect gentlemen, as always. You worry too much.”
Clancy shook his head, though he suspected his mother was right. He worried quite a bit. With his parents living separately now for more than two years, he hated the idea that his mother was alone most of the time in her little rental cottage overlooking the sea. She refused to wear the safety alert device he bought for her last winter. Mona had always been the one to care for others, and the idea that she needed some kind of battery-operated alarm to keep her safe completely horrified her. Nobody could change her mind on this—not her fellow Mermettes, not Rowan, and not even Duncan, her favorite.
Mona denied having a favorite child, of course, but Clancy and Rowan would roll their eyes whenever she protested. They were aware of her soft spot for Duncan, the oldest, who had been sick most of his childhood with asthma, bronchitis, and severe allergies. Of course, their brother had made up for lost time after puberty. The sickly, skinny boy who spent most of the first thirteen years of his life in bed became a champion distance swimmer and quite the ladies’ man, and as Duncan’s ego swelled, so did the rivalry with Clancy. Duncan was now a Navy SEAL serving in. . . . hell if Clancy knew where. The family was never informed of Duncan’s whereabouts or what, precisely, he was up to. Sometimes months could go by without a word from him. The only thing they could count on was that he’d show up at the last minute for the family cookout during festival week. It was an unbroken tradition.
“Is everything okay with your Boston boys this year?”
Clancy was drawn back to the moment, letting thoughts of his brother disperse into the breeze. He smiled at how his mother referred to his fellow officers as “boys” when they ranged in age from thirty to forty-one. “Yep. They’re all good. We’re working as backup for all the security out at the Oceanaire construction site, so that’s really the only new thing going on this year.”
“Isn’t it amazing how fast things are coming together? Ash has poured his heart and soul into that project—and the Safe Haven, of course. Have you seen all the progress?”
“It looks fabulous, Ma. The best I’ve ever seen it.”
Clancy wasn’t exaggerating. He’d stopped by the family mansion two days ago, and Rowan and Ash were busy with preparations for the Safe Haven’s last festival week as a bed-and-breakfast. It was mind-blowing how many changes had been made in just a year.
Last fall, Ash began bringing in an army of architectural preservation contractors from Boston to tackle restoration of the tile roof, gutters, spouting, storm shutters, cedar shingles and stone, porches, and windows. A zoned heating and cooling system that independently controlled each of the mansion’s thirty-two rooms was installed. The Safe Haven’s fourteen bathrooms were renovated, the kitchen modernized, and the oak floors refinished. They had even started to design a second-floor suite of rooms to serve as their private apartment.
Clancy couldn’t imagine how much money Ash was throwing at the Safe Haven. It had to be staggering.
His mother cleared her throat. “Now, technically, I’m not supposed to say anything about this . . .”
“When has that ever stopped you, Ma?”
Mona giggled. “Well, apparently, Ash and Rowan have had a change of heart. You know how they wanted to use the Safe Haven to house researchers and foundation members?”
Clancy nodded.
“Well, they’ve decided to experiment. They want to keep it functioning as a B and B—but only during high season—and see if it’s manageable.”
Clancy stopped in midstride, not even trying to hide his surprise. “What? After all the complaining Rowan’s done about running that place?”
Mona laughed, nudging Clancy to keep moving. “Everything looks different when you’re in love.”
“If you say so.”
She smiled up at him, so much happiness in her expression, which made perfect sense, because if love was part of a conversation she got downright giddy. But he could tell Mona was about to start one of her Mermaid-related pep talks, and he wanted no part of it.
Clancy spoke before she could. “Productive meeting tonight?”
Mona chuckled, aware that he was trying to change the subject. “I was simply saying that Ash has become quite passionate about that old house, and his enthusiasm seems to have rubbed off on Rowan. She told me they plan to clear out the attic this fall and add additional rooms for seasonal employees. I warned her it would be quite an undertaking, since nobody’s touched that mess in at least ten years.”
“Huh.” His mother could be right. Maybe Rowan was so blinded by love that nothing bothered her. All he knew was that his sister had been completely overwhelmed with the job of managing that run-down old mansion before Ash entered the picture. It looked like he’d remodeled the house and his sister’s attitude at the same time. “I’m really happy for her. For both of them, I guess.”
Mona released a long sigh of pleasure. “So am I. But, sometimes . . .” She stopped herself, looking flustered. “I’m completely thrilled for Rowan and Ash and for the foundation and everything that’s going on over there—it is wonderful. What I was thinking was, well, I wish Rowan would come around and serve as president of the Society.”
Clancy knew this was why she’d held on so long. “But she’s not.”
Mona shook her head a little, deep ridges forming between her eyebrows. “I know.”
“Ma?”
“I’ve just been thinking about how I spent all those years and all my energy trying to keep the Society together, the Safe Haven in Flynn hands, and Haven Cove undeveloped. I realize I’ve been kind of obsessed with my duties. And now I’m getting older. The Safe Haven is being used for the greater good and everyone’s so happy with how things worked out . . . well, there’s nothing left to fight for.”
“So . . . you’re saying you miss the battle?”
“Ha. Yes, I suppose. But I think the time has come for me to stop putting all my energy and time into other people—what they do or do not do—and concentrate on myself. I’d like to slow down, learn to relax, focus on my health.”
He hugged her. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure the woman elected as the next Society president will do a great job. She will have you to advise her, right?”
They walked together in quiet for a moment, the dogs loping nearby. Clancy and Mona took in the view from the intersection of Idlewilde and Shoreline Road, one of the highest points on the island. Down below, the lights of the Ferris wheel sparkled, several varieties of live music competed for airtime, and laughter rose up the hill. Clancy knew that the police radio mounted on his left shoulder was bound to come alive any second, but he was grateful for the break.
Suddenly, he frowned. Something his mother had said bothered him. It echoed inside his head, but he couldn’t quite name it.
“Something wrong, Clancy?”
The Mermaid Society . . . Rowan . . . the Safe Haven . . . that was it! The Safe Haven attic! Mona raised an eyebrow. “Care to share?”
The photo of the girl.
“Son?”
“It’s nothing. I was thinking that I should get anything of mine out of the attic before Rowan tosses it on the garbage barge. Didn’t you store some of my kid stuff up there?”
“Yes. Your school work, refrigerator art, and trophies for track events and the like.” She tipped her head with curiosity and grinned. “Since when have you been the sentimental type?”
“Ma,” he said, gently patting her back. “It’s more practical than sentimental. If Rowan and Ash are going to live at the Safe Haven, then it’s only right for me to get my junk out of their way and take it to my cottage. I do have my own home, you know.”
&
nbsp; She didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. “All right. So nothing else is bothering you?”
Clancy shook his head. “It’s just festival week. You know how it is.”
His mother stopped and faced him. “All I want is for you to be happy.”
Uh-oh.
“Someday you’ll find her, and she will be exactly right for you. Everything you’ve been through will have been worth it.”
“Hold up.” Clancy laughed at how quickly she’d forgotten her promise to stay out of other people’s business. “First off, I’m not looking for a woman, exactly right or completely wrong or anywhere in between. And I have no idea how your brain went in that direction, since we were talking about me getting my crap out of the attic.”
She shrugged.
“The woman of my dreams isn’t inside a mildewy cardboard box shoved under the rafters.”
Mona chuckled. “I’m simply telling you that I’m here and I love you. If you ever want to talk about anything and everything or nothing at all, you know where to find me.”
Clancy stopped walking. “You and the mermaid brigade do not have permission to mess with my personal life. No magic spells or true loves or anything. You’re clear on this, right?”
“Of course! My gracious. I would never even dream of that, son.”
* * *
Evelyn jolted awake in a panic, her eyes searching her surroundings and her brain spinning, struggling for traction. It took a few seconds before she put it together. They were in the motel on Bayberry Island and Richard Wahlman was hunting them down. Christina was sound asleep against her, one bony little knee poking into Evelyn’s side. She breathed deeply and forced herself to relax, realizing that her niece’s usual nighttime flailing had woken her from a deep sleep.
But just then, she heard it, an odd beeping sound coming from the corner of the room. Her mind began to race through all the worst-case scenarios—was Richard here? Had he found them already? Was the SWAT team at the door, or FBI agents? Evelyn’s heart pounded as the beeping continued.
Then it dawned on her. She rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness. It was her phone, the disposable phone she’d purchased from the variety store in Augusta. And the only person in the world who had the number was Hal.
She’d completely forgotten to call him.
As carefully as possible, Evelyn pulled away from Christina. Her niece grumbled a bit then turned over on her side, but she remained asleep. Evelyn rose from the bed, tiptoed across the room, and grabbed the duffel from the floor. She rushed into the bathroom and closed the door, then went rummaging around in the bag for the phone. Finally! She found it tucked into a pair of Christina’s socks. As soon as she flipped open the no-frills device, she apologized.
“I’m so sorry, Hal!” she whispered.
“Christ on a cracker! I’ve been worried sick about you guys!”
“Sorry.”
“It’s nearly one a.m. I haven’t seen anything on Justice Department or state police sites, but I hadn’t heard from you, so I didn’t know what to think.”
Evelyn sat on the edge of the bathtub. “It was kinda rocky when we first got here, and then Christina fell asleep.”
She heard Hal sigh with relief. “Good, but why did it take you so long to answer?”
Evelyn rested her forehead in her hand. “I couldn’t figure out what the beeping sound was.”
He laughed.
“Hey, I’ve never heard this phone ring before! But we’re fine. Thank you for making sure we’re okay.”
“Of course. So you followed the plan? You waited for the teenager to check you in?”
“Yes. Everything worked out. I waited for the owner to turn over the front desk to the summer help, just like you said. And God, he snatched up the cash without a second of hesitation.”
“Good.”
“And, from what I could tell, he changed the guest records to the name on my ID, and he knows he’ll get more money when I check out without incident.”
Hal made a humming sound. “Yeah, well, he sort of changed the records. I had to tie up a few loose strings.”
“What? You didn’t—”
“Yeah, I hacked into the Sand Dollar computer system, if you could call it that. Listen, that place is a joke. If anyone wanted to, they could extract the credit card information for every guest who’s stayed there in the last decade.”
“Hal . . . ?”
He chuckled. “I only use my powers for good. You know that.”
Evelyn did. She’d met Hal at a New England wellness convention six years before, where she was slated to give a presentation. At the time, he’d been an overweight type 2 diabetic who’d just learned he was playing Russian roulette with his blood pressure and cholesterol. He was only thirty-nine. Today, Hal was a marathoner, in prime shape, and off all medication.
It had taken years for Hal to admit he’d been part of a vigilante computer hacker group dedicated to exposing what he called “information injustice.” Evelyn had told him she never wanted to know the details. But he got himself out of that shady world and started a successful Internet security consulting business. Hal was now among the small group of people she considered her closest friends, and for that reason, it was impossible to lie to him.
“I do have an issue. It’s nothing huge, but I want to run it by you.”
Hal was quiet for a moment. “Let’s hear it.”
This would be embarrassing. She worried she’d sound ridiculous telling the story, like some kind of heartsick teenager. Come to think of it, that’s exactly what she had been all those years ago. She took a deep breath and steeled herself.
“Evie?”
“All right. All right.” She glanced up at the old bathroom ceiling fixture, which was not a smart thing to do. A layer of dead insects had piled up inside the cradle of the light’s frosted globe. “Oh, gross. There are dead bugs in the bathroom light.”
“That’s your issue?”
Evelyn giggled, relaxing a bit. “I wish. But, um, you know how Amanda had been planning this trip as a surprise for Pop-Pop’s seventieth birthday?”
“Yeah.”
“You know how we used to read all those mermaid storybooks to Christina and told her we came to see the beautiful mermaid as kids?”
“Yes.”
“And how Christina begged to see the mermaid for herself?”
“Yeah, but what are you getting at?”
“Well, what I didn’t tell you is that when we were here eighteen years ago, I had a . . . well, I sort of met a boy.”
“Uh, are we headed into Annette Funicello territory? ’Cause I need to prepare myself if we are.”
“Please, Hal. This is no joke.”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
“I was fourteen. He was an island kid. The first day we were here, Amanda dragged me down the beach to meet up with a group of kids going swimming on a no-trespassing beach. We swam out to these rocks and started diving into the waves. I knew it was stupid, but I did it anyway, and . . . well, I almost drowned in the undertow.”
“Oh, my God!”
“The local boy saved my life. He dove under and pulled me out, and later he told me he hadn’t even planned to be there that day but changed his mind at the last minute.”
“Wow.”
“So for the rest of the week, we were inseparable.”
“Does he still live there? Is that where you’re going with this?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Uh-oh.”
“So this boy was my first love, right? He gave me his address and I promised I would write him and give him all my information so he could write me back. So just days after I got home, I poured my heart out to him. He never wrote back.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. It felt like I’d been punc
hed in the face, you know? So he was my very first love, and my very first broken heart. It was a two-for-one deal.”
“Give me his name and I’ll check him out.”
“No need, Hal. He’s the Bayberry Island Chief of Police.”
The line went quiet for a beat. Then Hal said, “Ohhh, shiiit.”
“Yep, he saw us get off the ferry and walked right over to me to welcome us to festival week. It took me a minute to figure out why he looked familiar, but then I saw his badge. This is really bad, isn’t it? I think we need to leave tomorrow and go somewhere else.”
Hal made a deep growl of frustration, and Evelyn could hear the lightning-fast clicking of computer keys in the background. “Well, it’s certainly not good. Okay, well, it looks like the police chief of Bayberry Island is not just some chowderhead. Clancy Flynn graduated with honors from the Mass State Police Academy and was a decorated Boston patrol officer, six years on the beat.” The keys kept clicking. “Check this out—he got a meritorious service award for pulling victims from the rubble of a gas explosion and two years later got a community service award for working with neighborhood watch groups. Looks like your man is a frickin’ Eagle Scout.”
“He is?”
“That was just a turn of phrase, but if you hold on a moment I can check—”
“No! Stop!” Evelyn sighed deeply. “We’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll pack us up and we’ll take the first ferry out.”
“And go where?”
She closed her eyes. “I have no idea.”
“This is not the way to do it, Evie. Especially with a traumatized little kid in tow.”
“Do you have a better plan?”
Hal was quiet for a long moment. “I am still trying to figure out how Wahlman got custody. I’ll need to drive to Maine and track down the clerk of courts in your county, do some human interface.”
“That’s a four-hour drive from Burlington!”
“Four hours is just four hours, honey. I’ll do a little detective work. In the meantime—”
The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel Page 6