“So, tell me, what is this serious, non-game, Caroline?” He got out of the car and placed his arms softly on each woman’s back and guided them twenty feet further toward the dunes.
Annabelle noticed his manners and the agile way his body moved, not to mention the way his arm had bulged nicely in his crisp polo shirt on the edge of the car window. A hint of envy flooded her bloodstream at the realization that Caroline had chosen better than she had, which wasn’t entirely fair since the whole thing was Annabelle’s idea.
This guy was hot, in a good, responsible way. Annabelle checked out his outfit further, how his jeans slung on his ass, how the polo shirt blowing in the breeze now outlined his large build: rugged and preppy? What woman got that in life? Jesus! Philippe de Montaigne and Mr. Almond-Fondler Thaddeus were both handsome, but neither was as cool in their veins as this Mr. Architect.
Only one good solution: another pact next summer to even the score.
Annabelle noticed Ryan’s worn flip-flops as he walked a bit ahead, his arm tighter now around Caroline. Men shouldn’t ever wear flip-flops with jeans unless they were at a clambake, somewhere maybe getting their toes wet or sandy. Or, she decided, a man might wear flips-flops like those around town because, possibly, he didn’t own great moccasins?
Well, one thing: Mr. Architect wasn’t rich. You couldn’t have it all in a man. Not that she cared about a man’s money, well, maybe a little.
“Okay, Caroline,” Ryan said, stopping in the middle of the beach now. “Tell us what’s going on.”
“Something illegal is happening at the barn,” Caroline explained slowly. “And I don’t want to call the police because security is already there, this guy Marcus McCree who sometimes drives Eddie. He’s got a large company too, men who drive and I guess provide security when needed.”
Ryan asked, “Are sure you can trust this Marcus?”
“He’s the kind of man, like you, frankly, you tell just from the way he holds himself. That’s a yes that he’s on my side,” Caroline said. “Besides, Joey and he are in touch.”
“Okay, who is Joey?” Ryan asked.
Caroline looked at Annabelle and then back at Ryan. With her fingers, she pushed her lips together and bobbed her head slowly, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Not that Joey?” he said.
She nodded.
Ryan rubbed his scruffy stubble hard, taking this in, then he roughly raked his hair with both hands. Annabelle took another good peek at his triceps rounding out from the bottom sleeve of his polo shirt. One word: unfair.
Though Caroline’s statement defied any realm of common sense, Ryan got it. “Joey Whitten, from the lifeguard squad, is not, shall I assume, in the depths of the sea?”
Caroline shook her head. “Alive. Joey Whitten is alive. I saw him, a few times this summer, from a distance, though.”
Ryan chuckled a little to hide the fact that this stung. “How long exactly have we known that Joey is on solid ground and back among the living?”
“You know, always, and never, and just, like, kind of for the last two months,” Caroline said rapidly. “And he’s been hiding since he came back. I don’t know where, but I bet it has something to do the barn and with Eddie.”
Ryan nodded. “And you think Eddie is involved in illegal activity?”
“How could he not be?” Caroline said.
“What’s your proof?” Ryan asked. He stopped talking, as a supped-up Range Rover drove toward them on the sand.
The clueless, city driver leaned out his window and asked, “You need permits to drive on this beach?”
“Yes! Of course you need a sticker!” Caroline snapped. The couple shook their heads and drove away.
“Caroline, chill out. That man was asking a very normal question,” Annabelle added.
Watching Caroline tap her foot furiously now, plotting her next move, Ryan knew he’d miss this beautiful woman. Sure, she was a little too wound up a little too often, but she also emitted sexual energy that no man could resist.
“What, Ryan?” Caroline asked, impatient, pulling her thick hair up into a ponytail.
Ryan now understood that the Caroline Clarkson he’d had this summer was, at this very minute, slipping out of his hands like the soft sand beneath him. He’d most likely not see that stunning face in bed again, nor hear that laugh he worked so hard to earn. Ryan inhaled deeply. He loved Suzy, but he’d miss another woman now. Deeply.
“Hello? Ryan? You with us?” Annabelle said.
“Yeah, it’s just a lot to digest.
Tears started to drip down Caroline’s cheeks; anger over Eddie’s betrayal overpowering her. “Plus, well . . . there’s something really big besides the fact that Joey is alive.” Caroline rubbed her head and placed it between her knees to get more oxygen. And then she sat down in the sand again.
Annabelle, now next to her, put her hand on her best friend’s knee. “Tell us, what else? Is it Eddie? Is there something huge we still don’t know?”
Caroline looked up. Tears flooded her eyes, and she coughed, choking on the words. “Eddie. Has. Another. Child. A daughter.”
“No!” Annabelle yelled.
“Yes. He had a thing with some woman related to Thierry about ten years ago. I have no idea who she was, I just know she’s not alive, died around the time of the birth. Thierry and Eddie are keeping Eddie’s paternity a secret. They have payments between them.”
Annabelle rubbed her forehead. “So who is Eddie’s other child? Is she much older or . . .”
“It’s Rosie Moinot. Rosie is Eddie’s daughter,” Caroline answered, smacking the sand.
“Wow.” Annabelle put both hands on her mouth.
To Ryan, Caroline said, “You see, Rosie is not only my daughter’s best friend. She’s Eddie’s daughter.”
Ryan nodded, so gobsmacked by all this information that he had to take a few steps away from the two women sitting together by his legs. Staring out to the bay, he pondered all these developments in Caroline’s life. As a married man with his own family, it was not right to be so close to this mess. He swallowed the melancholy of his goodbye down hard. It had to wait, but not for very long.
“I see it now,” said Annabelle, nodding slowly and concentrating. “Rosie has that same wide, warm smile. That round face, the . . .”
“Right,” said Caroline. “Same build, same bossiness, same way of confronting situations hard. They have the same feet. Don’t you notice how kids’ feet are often the same as their parents’?”
Ryan and Annabelle looked at each other and shook their heads no.
“Well, I do,” said Caroline. “Fingers and toes run in families. And Rosie has his feet. Also, when she fell yesterday, Eddie sobbed, calling her ‘my baby.’ When I watched him comfort her, and touch her the way he touches our kids, it just hit me. That child is his. Rosie is his. I just know it.”
“I did think he was being kind of dramatic out there in the ring when she fell off Cashmere, like he was taking over Thierry’s role somehow. But I guess I just thought it was sweet, or controlling, or both—the way he always is both. Still, I just can’t believe Eddie would do this,” Annabelle said. “But they are for fuck sure related.”
“And,” Caroline added, “somehow whatever is going on at the barn might be linked back to Rosie.”
Chapter 56
That Briny Juice Forever
Ryan’s borrowed white Volvo rolled down Spring Farm Lane. A hundred yards before the entrance to Sea Crest Stables, Caroline said, “Ryan, pull over here.”
Ryan stopped as instructed, and all three got out of the car. They took a moment and considered the enormous barn complex. Caroline, planning carefully, said, “I think Annabelle and I should maybe walk in through the trees, and climb over that low horse fence.”
“You’re the wife of the owner,” Annabelle said. “You’re allowed to walk around, Caroline. I’ll go check on my horses. That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.”
“Nope. I do n
ot want to signal our arrival,” said Caroline. “This way, we can go in discreetly and find out what we need.”
“What I need is a good, dirty, martini. Up. Stirred, not shaken,” added Annabelle.
“That’ll be for later today at some good, out-of-the-way bar I know,” said Ryan. “For now, when I drive in, I can easily play lost tourist.”
“If anyone is here, they’re going to know you’re not a tourist,” Caroline explained.
“Why?”
“Because there’s a gate code only for Mondays, and very few people know that. If you, a tourist, drive into the stables, it won’t make sense. That’s the first reason.”
“So, what’s your plan, Sherlock?” asked Annabelle.
“Ryan shouldn’t get near the barn if Eddie is here.”
“It won’t be any tougher than my acting job in front of Eddie that day at Duryea’s restaurant. But if Eddie is here, I could say I was interested in the barn from a professional angle, or hired by Annabelle and wanted to see the wood board and batten barn siding or some bullshit.”
“Eddie knows exactly who you are,” Caroline said.
“And, by that, you are hopefully saying he knows my name?”
She gave him a look, shaking her head slowly, no.
“You don’t mean that Eddie Clarkson knows exactly what I’ve been doing with his wife?” Ryan asked. “Do you mean that?”
“That too.”
“What the hell? When did that happen?” Annabelle asked sternly, a bit miffed she found out when Ryan did. “Eddie has another child who happens to live part-time in your home because, inconveniently or conveniently, she’s your daughter’s best summer friend. Your husband knows about your summer lover, and your dead boyfriend is alive and waiting for us?”
“Check on all,” Caroline answered.
Annabelle leaned into her best friend, adding, “I’ll say one thing, I never thought our summer pact would lead to all this!”
“Summer pact?” asked Ryan.
“It’s just a girlfriend thing,” Caroline answered.
“Clearly.” Ryan smiled, knowing that drink at his favorite dive bar would never happen. Before he left, he wanted to tell Caroline how grateful he was, how she’d erased the humiliation he’d felt for a decade. She was distracted, but still, he felt he needed to try. “Caroline, come here for a sec.”
“Okay, but make it quick.”
“Excuse us, Annabelle,” Ryan said as he led Caroline away. He decided there’d be no more succumbing to his lust, no more of that thrill in discovering that hidden code to another woman’s sexuality. The score with Suzy was on an even keel now, and he was relieved. He was too lucky a man, for his family, and for his time with Caroline.
She turned to him, crossing her arms. “I’m going to find out everything now, I know I am.”
“You might, Caroline, you know, mess up the plan somehow,” Ryan said. He knew that if this Marcus guy were with security already, there were most likely law enforcement setting a trap. This being East Hampton, where there was very little crime except the random drunk banker driving around, he knew they would be happy to arrest a dickhead like Eddie Clarkson who’d hogged all their waves when they were young.
“I don’t give a shit whose plan I mess up. Eddie is still my children’s father, and if I can protect him or warn him, I’m going to. Don’t stop me.”
“It’s not my place to stop you. I never would,” Ryan said. Grabbing both her shoulders, willing her to focus, Ryan looked into those crystal eyes once more. The cornstalks weren’t quite flowering at the tips, it wasn’t the very end of summer when he thought this moment would happen, but it was time now.
Did she understand he couldn’t be a part of this? Would she, like he, be grateful for the subtle balance of distance and affection they’d accomplished together? It wasn’t so easy to do, after all, given their mutual circumstances. Would she, like he, marvel at the delicate line they tiptoed on? Would she always remember their oyster gorging, their hallway sex, or the liberating, fantastical ravaging in bed that night?
Caroline understood all of it: especially that nuanced, respectful equilibrium they shared. And she knew that Ryan Miller, pleading sadly with his eyes only, always the gentleman, always considering her needs first, wanted her permission to bow out now.
She tilted her head to the side, softening her gaze, expressing that she knew when he gave her the water bottle at the barn party and kept his finger on hers a millisecond longer than he needed to, they were in trouble. That she’d never forget how she succumbed to him that night, that silk tugging at her wrists. And that she’d forever think of him when she slid an oyster on her tongue, the briny juice bringing her back to their first date on a random Tuesday afternoon. How could she not?
Even without words from her, Ryan knew he had, as with her initial resistance in bed, broken through that steely resolve of hers. “Go,” he said. “I won’t and can’t stop you.”
“Thank you,” she said. Caroline kissed Ryan one more time softly on his lips, and he held her tight until she broke free. “I have to go now, Ryan. It’s the only way. I’ve got to confront this head-on.”
Chapter 57
Fathers May Not Know Best, but They Know
Caroline and Annabelle took slow steps on the pebbled sidewalks that led to the main stables. “Let’s go up over to the right side, to the second level,” Caroline said. “There’s a landing up there with a window and a deck. A viewing area for the main ring, mostly for the dads. If I remember right, in that storage area behind the Branch Water Lounge, you can see down into the stables.”
The women crept up a side staircase onto the balcony and interior lounge with several screens on one wall. Behind six leather lounge chairs, and a bookcase filled with antique horse ribbons and silver championship chalices, Caroline and Annabelle opened the door to the storage area. They climbed over cases of beer and Kentucky’s finest bourbon to get a good view of the forty horses below and the trunks in front of each stall.
Immediately, both women sensed something strange was happening. Philippe was down at the far end with those same men, near the side of a trunk. More canvas duffel bags were opened on the ground and emptied.
“You know, Annabelle, it’s all coming together,” Caroline whispered. “I swear these men paid Philippe earlier. I think it was a shit ton of money.”
“You saw actual bills?” Annabelle asked.
“I saw neat, tight packages all lined up on the floor in the shape of stacks of bills. Yes.”
“Not exactly the official way of paying someone,” Annabelle said.
“I mean, it was like hundreds of thousands of dollars, I bet,” Caroline said. “And, earlier, they’d slid a drawer out of the bottom of one trunk.”
“The bottom of a trunk is solid. It’s just a wooden box, how can you slide something out?”
“I’m telling you, Annabelle, they’ve rebuilt some of these. They have a secret side drawer on the bottom casing. The whole bottom of the trunk slid out.”
“Why?”
“Whatever those men are doing down there right now has to do with that bottom, sliding area. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t see Marcus or Joey yet, but I know it’s not legal.”
“Shhh . . .” Annabelle hushed Caroline. “Look down there, it’s your husband. Eddie is walking down the center hall. If Eddie is here, I can ask him outright something stupid, like I need carrots for my houseguests on the way to feed Seaside. Let’s go.”
By the time the women were on the last step, ready to stroll into the stables and confront the men, Joey had intercepted them.
“Oh,” Caroline said, breathlessly.
“You are here,” Annabelle said, her face red with emotion for her best friend. She placed her palms on her cheeks as a few tears started to trickle down her fingers. “I didn’t fully believe her.”
Caroline reached for Joey, almost falling into him, as he led her back up the stairs to the Branch Water Lounge. At t
he top landing, Joey and Caroline embraced for several long minutes, clenching their fingers around each other’s back. Caroline then held his face in her hands, curling his hair around his ears. “I had a feeling, and so did your father.”
“My father knew,” Joey said softly. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t tell you.” He kissed her forehead and grabbed her hands tight.
“I saw you in May on a boat, I swear . . .” Caroline wept, interlacing her fingers with his. “How could you? How could you not tell me you were okay?” She started sobbing, and then, suddenly, she pushed him away. She clenched her jaw; she was too happy that he was alive, but she was also furious he had abandoned her. She whispered, “You knew what it would do to me. What could possibly be worth that?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” he said, looking for a way to explain, his own eyes watering. He looked up at Annabelle first. “Is, she, can I . . .”
“You can, and please do. I’m her bona fide best friend,” Annabelle said.
Caroline nodded and moved her hands in circles to get Joey to go on.
“It was something I could not explain,” Joey stated. “Just, it was better for you to believe I was gone.”
“Why couldn’t you have just called?” she asked. “Just to tell me you were alive? Or . . .”
“I will just say this for now: I got involved in something I shouldn’t have, and then it got very bad very fast, and I had to leave. That’s all I can say. It was safer that way, for you.” Joey climbed up a few steps so he could look down on the men through slats in the staircase. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the bay, at our rock. It was just too crazy here for me to leave as planned. Things went on for longer than we figured. I was going to tell you everything there.”
Annabelle moved in, hugging Caroline protectively, holding her as she continued weeping. “Come on, honey, whatever you have to face is here,” she said. “And I’m with you, okay? Apparently, so is that ghost you won’t shut up about.”
Joey looked at Caroline, unable to stifle his boyish smile. She stared back at him, wiping away the wetness from her skin. The connection to a man she hadn’t seen in thirteen years felt as potent as it always had.
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