Driftwood Cove--Two stories for the price of one

by Debbie Mason

  * * *

  Shay sat on the edge of the bathtub warming her feet in four inches of water. Standing at the sink in the small, bright white bathroom, Cherry heated towels with a blow-dryer. She’d Googled the best ways to warm up frozen feet. The towels were for Roxy, not Shay.

  “Don’t you worry, Roxy Roo. Mommy won’t let Auntie Shay look after you again.” Cherry addressed the shivering poodle in a voice that hurt Shay’s teeth. High-pitched and childlike, Cherry saved it for special occasions, namely when both she and the dog felt Shay had messed up and put the animal in mortal jeopardy. Cherry and Roxy cast Shay the side-eye at almost the same time.

  She held up her hands. “I’ve apologized five times, so the two of you need to get over it. And just FYI, I wasn’t the one who locked the door.” She didn’t add that she’d been a little busy rescuing a woman from her slimeball drug dealer to worry about Roxy.

  Making a fish face, Cherry leaned into the mirror and fluffed her now perfectly coiffed blond locks. “You don’t have to remind me. I feel terrible as it is. But you understand, don’t you, Roxy Roo? Poor Mommy hasn’t gotten herself somethin’ somethin’ in”—Cherry faked sobbed, at least Shay thought she was faking—“five years. Five, Shaybae. Do you know how…” She winced. “Sorry, it’s been what? Like ten for you? I don’t know how you do it. Vibrators are great, but sometimes you just need a—”

  “TMI.”

  Cherry angled her head to the side. “What do you mean, TMI?”

  “My safe word, remember? I say TMI, and you stop talking. Immediately. No questions asked.”

  “Okay, okay, I forgot. It’s just that you haven’t used it in months.”

  “Well, I wasn’t hanging with you twenty-four-seven like I am now.”

  “Believe me, I know, and you’ve just reminded me why you’ve got that whole bite-me attitude going on. For all our sakes, you need to get laid. And I’m going to get working on that as soon as we get to the Shaggy Dog.”

  “Salty Dog, and no…” She held up her hand to get Cherry’s attention, gesturing for her to turn off the blow-dryer. She was almost positive someone was in the house. The air had cooled slightly, and she heard what sounded like the door being closed carefully and quietly.

  Slowly removing her feet from the bathtub, Shay stood and wiped them dry on the bathmat, pressing a finger to her lips as she walked from the bathroom down the hall…“What do you think you’re doing, kid? I could’ve shot you,” she half yelled at Teddy, angry that she’d gotten this far before Shay became aware of her presence. If it had been one of Costello’s hit men, she, Cherry, and Roxy would be dead by now.

  Women three times Teddy’s age had been known to quake in fear at the voice Shay had just used on the teenager, a couple of men too. But the kid didn’t even blink. She stood two feet from Shay wearing the same black-on-black outfit as last night: sneakers, jeans, and a sweatshirt. The only difference this morning was that she’d added a camel-colored padded vest with a fur-lined hood and carried a canvas backpack. But she wore that same surly look on her face, her upper lip rolled into a sneer.

  Shay gave Teddy props for being able to pull it off. The kid wasn’t as unfazed as she wanted her to believe. It took time and effort to get rid of a tell, and Teddy probably wasn’t even aware she had one. The way the teenager was rubbing her thumb against the side of her forefinger told Shay she was nervous.

  Seeing her trying so hard to act tough and cool broke Shay’s heart. She couldn’t help but see herself in Teddy at that age, not that she’d ever admit it to Cherry or Michael, who she knew had seen the resemblance too.

  Cherry, who’d been peeking out into the hall with Roxy in her arms, made a kid’s got cajones face, and ducked back in the bathroom, turning the blow-dryer setting to low. Presumably to give them the pretense of privacy while still being able to hear their conversation.

  Relaxing her stance and losing the scared-straight tactics, Shay asked, “How did you get in? Did you pick the lock?” She’d been picking locks since she was twelve, so it wouldn’t surprise her if the answer was yes.

  “No. Charlie gave me a key.”

  Shay held out her hand. Until she knew what was going on with her uncle, she didn’t want Teddy coming in and out whenever she pleased.

  “It’s not your house. It’s Charlie’s. I’ll give him the key when he comes back. If he wants it. But he won’t.”

  “You’re real close to my uncle, aren’t you?” Shay hoped to God Charlie hadn’t recruited Teddy for his cons. He’d told Shay he stopped the day she went to jail.

  “Yeah, and I know all about you. You were in prison. You’re a con.”

  She felt it, not a stab or the sharp twist of a knife, just a small pinch near her heart. Still, it hurt. Which surprised her. She thought she was tougher than that, her skin thicker. Maybe it was the sentiment she heard beneath the words—you’re worthless, no good, dirty—that were responsible for the pain. “Ex.”

  The blow-dryer went quiet just before the sound of it being slammed on the counter echoed in the hall. Cherry stomped out of the bathroom, her face flushed. “Don’t you ever let me hear you speak to her like that again, you got that, kid?”

  Shay sighed. “Cherry, it’s—”

  “Oh no, she doesn’t get to come in here talking to you like that after you froze your feet to protect her mother.” She narrowed her eyes at Teddy while stabbing a finger in Shay’s direction. “She’s better than everyone in this town, and that includes you and me. You have no idea who she is; how much good she’s done, the people she’s saved, how many times she’s risked her own life to help someone else.”

  She whirled on Shay. “You are one of the best people I know. You’re my angel, Shaybae. Don’t you listen to her. She’s just a smartass kid who’s taking the crap her mother doles out on her out on you.” Cherry sniffed, making a flustered wipe at the tears tracking down her cheeks. “Now look what you’ve done, you, you little wannabe gangster. I have to redo my makeup.”

  Shay and Teddy stared after Cherry, who slammed the bathroom door. Teddy found her voice first. Lip curled, she snarled, “She’s a real—”

  “Good friend. Yeah, she is. One of the best. So do yourself a favor and don’t say another word about my friend, unless it’s—”

  The bathroom door opened, and Cherry stood there with her hands pressed to her chest and a watery smile on her face. “Aww, Shaybae, I knew you loved me.”

  Shay rolled her eyes and waved her back into the bathroom. “Hurry up. I have to get to the pub. And you have to go to school.” She practically felt the kid biting her tongue as she followed Shay to the front door. “So, what was so important that you walked into my home uninvited?”

  And it was her home, though she’d never stake her claim to her uncle. Charlie had remortgaged the house to cover his gambling debts and had come close to losing it last year. Shay had used her savings to pay off his mortgage.

  “My mom, she’s not a druggie. She hurt her back at work, and she needs the pills, but the ones the doctor prescribes don’t work anymore. They’re too expensive.”

  “If she hurt her back on the job, she should be receiving compensation to help pay for her painkillers, Teddy.”

  “Yeah, right. I told you her boss is a tool. And no one at those compensation places care about people like her anyway.”

  “People like her?”

  Teddy fidgeted with the strap of her backpack. “She’s a stripper.” She glanced at Shay as though gauging her reaction to the news.

  “So, she has the same right to compensation as anyone else. Tell her to talk to Cherry.”

  “Why?”

  “She was an exotic dancer too.” Knowing Charlie, he’d probably offered already, but Shay thought it couldn’t hurt to try again. “I’ll have a better idea once I spend some time at the pub today, but we might have an opening for your mom at the Salty Dog.”

  “Charlie already offered, and she turned him down. The money’s too good at the cl
ub.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that too. But you’re a smart kid, Teddy, so I’ll give it to you straight. Something has to change, and change soon. Your mom keeps going the way that she is, the neighbors see the things that I’m pretty sure they do, your teachers at school too, and your family will end up on social services’ radar. Trust me, Teddy, you don’t want that to happen.”

  “I thought…You’re not going to social services or the cops?”

  “No. But you have to talk to your mom…” What was she doing? More than anyone, Shay knew what it was like to carry that kind of responsibility at such a young age. “Never mind. I’ll talk to your mom, and we’ll come up with a plan that works for all of you.”

  “Why would you do that? Why would you want to help us?”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to turn out like me, Teddy.”

  Chapter Eight

  At the click, click, click coming quickly down the hall toward the back office at the Salty Dog, Shay groaned in frustration. She’d recognize the sound of Cherry’s thigh-high boots anywhere. Not surprising since she’d heard the exact same sound twenty times in the past four hours.

  By the time Shay had searched the house from top to bottom for clues as to her uncle’s whereabouts, it was noon when they arrived at the pub. Cherry had been barging into the office five times per hour, which broke down to one interruption every fifteen minutes. If the ensuing conversations—demands—lasted two minutes, Shay probably would’ve managed to get some work done. But Cherry took five minutes just getting herself organized to speak, a hair fluff here, a winning or ingratiating smile there, and dependent on the audience, shoulders back and boobs thrust out.

  The woman in question burst into the office wearing a body-hugging fuchsia sweater that today served as a dress. Cherry did a breathy little huff and puff while patting her exposed chest, and there was a lot of chest to pat courtesy of the lacy pink push-up bra that was also visible, and then moistened her lips before moving her hand to her hip, which she jutted out. “I need you out front like yesterday.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Shay said, even though she had no intention of leaving the office again. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time checking out potential tea-leaf suitors.

  Something didn’t feel right about the whole Charlie going-off-to-track-down-her-sisters scenario. Rightly or wrongly, he blamed himself for Shay losing her sisters and for being put away. So would he want to find them to make amends? Definitely. Would he want to keep it from her in case his search didn’t pan out? Absolutely.

  He wouldn’t want to get her hopes up just to have her disappointed again. He’d disappointed her plenty in the past. Still, despite being a recovering alcoholic, con, and gambler, the one thing she’d never doubted was his love for her. He’d tried his best, and maybe that’s what he was doing again, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more going on. Tony’s murder fed her suspicions.

  At the snap of Cherry’s fingers, Shay refocused on the woman. “Book it, Shaybae. Now.”

  “I’m not booking it, double-timing it, or jetting,” she repeated Cherry’s expression, including the two she’d used during her prior attempts.

  “You don’t understand. It’s not like the other times. This is a desperate situation for reals. The guy that—”

  “You know what, I just remembered, I did have a cup of tea this morning. So those were my tea leaves you read. The tea leaf gods are sending me the man of my dreams, not you. And since the men in my dreams typically turn into nightmares, I’ve decided I don’t want anything to do with—”

  Cherry’s face fell, her glossy pink lips turning down. “I thought things were finally turning around for me. It’s been so long since anything really good happened in my life, you know? And then you came along and rescued me and got me the job at Sterling and then you brought me home to Harmony Harbor with you. So this morning’s news that I was finally going to find someone to love who would love me, too, well, that was just the pink icing on the red velvet cake. And to find out it was all a lie, I feel—”

  Shay lightly banged her head on the desk. “Okay, okay, I was lying,” she said, her voice muffled. “I had coffee. They were your tea leaves. He’s the love of your life, not mine. I’m sure the tea leaf gods would send you only good guys, so go out there and procreate.” She lifted her head and looked at Cherry. “Ignore the last part, but go dance or something with the guy. Have fun.”

  “No, I’m not doing anything with him. You said he’s a dealer.”

  “Wait, what? Who are you talking about? I thought—”

  “I’m talking about the for-reals desperate situation. The guy you beat up, he’s sitting at the bar and asking questions about you,” Cherry said.

  She pushed back from the desk and stood up. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

  “I’m sure I did.”

  “Ah, no, you didn’t.” As Shay rounded the desk, Roxy gingerly placed a paw outside of her princess bed beside the threadbare olive-green couch. Shay pointed a finger at the poodle. “You stay right where you are.”

  Charlie would croak if he walked in to see his dark and dingy office cluttered with pink chew toys, stuffed animals, a neon-pink satin bed, and puppy pads.

  Cherry flounced past her. “Don’t you listen to Auntie Shay, Roxie Roo. She’s not as crusty as she pretends to be.”

  “Oh yeah, I am.” And she was even crustier when she walked down the hall and past the Wenches and Mates bathrooms, named in keeping with the pub’s pirate ship theme. The floors and walls were cedar and gave off a warm, fragrant scent. When it was busy, the woodsy smell was overpowered by that of the soft pretzels and craft beer they were famous for.

  Shay rounded the corner and spotted Gerry sitting at the bar. It was four o’clock on a Monday, so he wasn’t hard to spot. They’d be busier around five when people dropped in for a beer before heading home.

  Gerry hadn’t spotted her yet. He was busy talking to Denise, who wore a peasant serving wench costume in green and burgundy the same as the rest of the female servers. Shay had been trying to get rid of the uniform for years, but her uncle was living out his pirate fantasies and there wasn’t a chance she’d change his mind.

  She nodded at two older men who sat at one of the tables on barrels instead of chairs. Between each of the twenty tables were wooden wheels her uncle swore came from real pirate ships. Just like the cutlasses and swords that hung from the walls. One of the swords was reputed to have been William Gallagher’s. Michael’s grandfather many times over was rumored to have been a pirate. It’s supposedly where the family’s wealth had come from.

  And where there wasn’t a cutlass, sword, or rope, there were framed photos of Charlie and his staff dressed as famous pirates. To Shay’s never-ending embarrassment, the photo of her as Grace O’Malley had a place of pride in the pub.

  Denise looked over and lifted her chin at Shay. Gerry swiveled on the black leather barstool. His face paled, and he held up a hand. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

  “You wouldn’t be causing it for long if you were,” she said as she rounded the bar. “Take a break if you want, Denise. I’ve got this.”

  Tall and buxom with her burgundy hair woven into a crown of braids on top of her head, the fiftysomething woman gave Shay a curt nod. Denise was her uncle’s on-and-off again girlfriend. She’d never been Shay’s biggest fan. It was Charlie’s fault. Her uncle didn’t want a full-time girlfriend, so whenever Denise started pressuring him, he used Shay’s supposed animosity toward Denise as an excuse. Shay actually liked the woman and had no opinion on their relationship whatsoever, which she’d told Denise on many occasions.

  Shay picked up a towel and tossed it over the picture of herself as Grace O’Malley above the old-fashioned cash register. She turned to the man at the bar. “All right, Gerry, what are you doing here?”

  He glanced around and then leaned toward her. “Me? What are you doing here? The cops, the DE
A, they’re all looking for you, lady. I had no idea who you were until I was telling my main man about this chick who broke my nose, and he started asking me questions about you. He got this shocked look on his face, and he says, “Shit man, that was the Angel. You’re lucky she didn’t kill your sorry ass.”

  He held out his hands. “Swear to God, I wouldn’t have come around if I’d known it was your territory. My man Eric, he says you’re the best. You protected his ass from Keller, so whatever you need, I’m good for. But Costello ain’t going to be happy if you start horning in on his business.”

  “Costello took over from Keller?” This was not good news. “I’ve been out of the country,” she said, in case Gerry wondered why she wasn’t in the know.

  “Yeah, the guy’s into everything now, drugs, exhortation, strip clubs. Word is he’s making a run on Libby’s club.” At Shay’s blank look, he pointed to his nose. “Your neighbor.”

  “Right. The woman whose arm you were twisting hard enough to make her cry out.”

  “I know. I’m a jerk. But I can’t be giving the stuff away for free. That’s the second time Libby tried to stiff me. If Costello’s guys found out, they’d be doing a lot worse. I never told though. I made up for it out of my own pocket. You don’t screw Costello,” Gerry said, swiveling in the bar stool to lift his chin at the back room. “Something you should share with your uncle. Costello’s been trying to get his poker machines in the Salty Dog. But Charlie won’t have any of it.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Ah, yeah, Costello's trying to make inroads in Harmony Harbor. Charlie’s getting the business owners riled up about it, getting them to take a stand against Costello. Not in his best interest to be doing that, if you know what I mean. Costello’s a little off the wall. Doesn’t help that his uncles will be out in a few weeks. Word on the street is they aren’t happy with how he’s been running the family business.” He looked around again before lowering his voice when Denise began wiping down a table a few feet away. “You sure you should be here? I mean, far as I know, no one ratted you out, and it doesn’t sound like the cops know who the woman was that night, still…”